Favorite Actresses, #2: Myrna Loy

First Movie I Saw Her In: The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)

Three Favorite Movies: The Thin Man (1934) After the Thin Man (1936); The Best Years of Our Lives (1946).

Honorable Mention: Test Pilot (1938)

Favorite Movie with William Powell: If you have to ask...

Favorite Performance: The Thin Man (1934)

Why I Like Her: Anyone who reads this blog knows how mad I am about the Thin Man movies. A lot about what I like about them has a lot to do with Myrna Loy. She’s the definition of cool and calm with a biting, sarcastic wit that’s second to none. That, in a nutshell, is why I like her so much. No layers of complicated emotions, no inner “torment”, just a dame who’s relaxed and in control. She’s someone who’s confident, funny and has the world in the palm of her hand. Well, that and because Loy is also such a distinctive-looking beauty with her "trademark" nose and her voice with its sophisticated tones. She was the strong woman behind the man. I worship her performance in The Thin Man, a film where she was denied even an Oscar nomination but makes off with most of that film’s best lines. She has an introduction even better than her perpetual co-star, William Powell.

Myrna Loy’s cool demeanor is the ultimate Hollywood illusion. It was also one of the great fantasies of the movie-going public. I’ve commented before on how I feel about the “ideal wife” tag that was used to sell her image and once again I’ll say that I much prefer the witty tippler who implored her husband to solve another mystery. I love how Myrna conveys confidence in her roles. As Nora, she’s unflustered by Nick’s consoling of Maureen O’Sullivan’s character. The wrinkled nose face Myrna makes at Powell shows that she’s not jealous but rather secure that Nick isn’t up to anything sneaky. Women adored her because she was no man’s fool and was every bit as intelligent—if not more so—than any male character.

Myrna’s characters often knew best and had a wonderful wisdom about them. Take the scene in The Best Years of Our Lives, when daughter Theresa Wright claims that her parents never had any difficulty in their relationship. Myrna’s character responds with some of the most moving dialogue in the film:

"We never had any trouble." How many times have I told you I hated you and believed it in my heart? How many times have you said you were sick and tired of me; that we were all washed up? How many times have we had to fall in love all over again?”

I can hear those words spoken in Loy’s distinctive voice with a touch of sadness at remembering the pain. Of course, the Academy failed to nominate her for this or anything else.

Myrna Loy’s career, like that of Ginger Rogers, tapers off after the mid-1940s. Less roles for aging actresses—Hollywood’s ongoing shame—and less interest for any woman over 40 essentially all contributed to Loy’s withdrawal from movies. Despite being massively popular during the 1930s and ‘40s, she’s never mentioned as one of the great stars of her time. Ever for the underdog, the underappreciated, and the just-plain forgotten, Myrna Loy ranks so high on this list because in her prime she was as appealing an individual that Hollywood ever produced. She was criminally underrated in the looks department despite having played exotic beauties in many of her silent films. She also gets overlooked as a comedic actress because comedy has always been cinema’s second citizen. Those who become enamored with classic film can claim Myrna Loy as their own private find, a neglected treasure of wit, elegance, and sass who is just as fresh today as she was seventy-five years ago.

Favorite Actresses, #3: Ginger Rogers

First Movie I Saw Her In: Stage Door (1937)

Three Favorite Movies: Top Hat (1935); Swing Time (1936); Stage Door (1937).

Honorable Mention: Weekend at the Waldorf (1946)

Favorite Performance: Stage Door (1937)

With Astaire: Top Hat (1935)

Why I Like Her: Ginger’s been covered at length in the Discovering Ginger Rogers entry. However, I could talk about her all day…

Liking Ginger Rogers was easy as pie once I actually saw her on screen. After about thirty seconds of watching Ginger in Stage Door I already considered her one of my favorites. She made me a fan from the start. Right away I was impressed at how modern she was. Ginger wasn’t melodramatic or whiny, she was more like how a real young woman would be during the 1930s; that is, if RKO technicians were tending your hair, makeup, and wardrobe, as well as providing your dialogue. Despite those small details, she came off as strikingly real. Ginger is also solely responsible for getting me interested--make that fascinated--with 1930s movies.

It’s hard to believe that I dismissed her out of hand as Fred Astaire’s untalented other half! My goodness, what was I thinking??? It’s an embarrassing admission but one I must admit to lest I fall into such stupidity again. Confession is good for the soul… However, Ginger was less a great star than a cultural cliché (“Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did but backwards and in heels.”) That’s such a dismissal of her ability. Ginger won an Oscar over staggeringly good competition in 1941 with her win for Kitty Foyle (the merits of the film is grist for another thread) but Astaire never did win a competitive Oscar, so she had that much on him.

Ginger’s comedic ability is second to none as she had great timing and a snappy, breezy way of speaking that made her a great choice for what were referred to as “working gal” roles. She was earthy without being foul, delicate without being helpless and graceful and feminine without sacrificing toughness. She could get into a catfight, moon over a dashing man, and crack wise with the likes of Kate Hepburn and Gail Patrick. She’s also the only actress of her era who could sing a Gershwin tune, dance while conveying a variety of feelings, and excel at drama and comedy—I say that in every entry, don’t I? For my money and for what’s up there on screen, Ginger Rogers is the most talented actress on this list. I’m amazed at all the things that she could do well and she’s alone at the top in that respect. The unfortunate aspect of Ginger’s career is that she turned her back on musicals and dancing which she should’ve kept at and could’ve continued doing, especially after her Oscar win, which put her on the top of the heap.

My interest in Ginger Rogers wanes considerably after 1945. Less interesting roles and films did nothing for her career as well as some inconsistent performances that were strangely out of character. However, from about 1932 to 1945 she was as good as anyone ever was or will be.

Favorite Actresses, #4: Barbara Stanwyck

First Movie I Saw Her In: Double Indemnity (1944)

Three Favorite Movies: Ball of Fire (1941); The Lady Eve (1941); Meet John Doe (1941)

Honorable Mention: Sorry, Wrong Number (1948)

Favorite Performance: Drama: Double Indemnity (1944); Comedy: Ball of Fire (1941)

Why I Like Her: Barbara Stanwyck is the Golden Age actress I was ever exposed to, via The Big Valley (1965-69), the Western TV show where Babs played Victoria, the matriarch of the Barkley family. She was billed as "Miss Barbara Stanwyck" and even to my child brain of thirty years ago, she made an impression. I knew that this woman was something special (even when I wasn't gawking at Stanwyck's ravishing co-star, Linda Evans). Stanwyck was the first movie star-turned-TV-star that I ever watched with regularity.

It wasn't until the mid-1990s that I would reconnect with Stanwyck and this time, it would be her her film career, which I had been vauguely aware of but hadn't seen. Discovering Barbara Stanwyck the film star was a constant, unfolding joy. In fact, it remains one of my favorite discoveries since my full-fledged obsession with classic film.

Stanwyck was brilliant at both comedy and drama, played cold-bloodedness and jubillance with equal expertise and I was stunned at how sensual and hypnotic she was as Phyllis Dietrichson, the black widow of Double Indemnity. It was a helluva introduction to this side of the actress! However, the "lighter side" of Stanwyck was what made me like her even more. Once again, a woman who can be funny is a guaranteed success in my book. My three favorite Barabara Stanwyck performances all come from her stellar year of 1941 where she appeared in Ball of Fire; Meet John Doe; and The Lady Eve. In the last film she tantalized and beguiled Henry Fonda and in the first two movies Stanwyck and Gary Cooper were simply wonderful together. Never in a million years would I think that that combination would work as well as it did.

Stanwyck will never be thought of as a great beauty but as Sugarpuss O'Shea in Ball of Fire, she has a sexy, playfullness about her that makes her wonderfully appealing. Proof once again (as if anyone needed it) that beauty is a way of being, not looking. Stanwyck has Cooper and company eating out of her hands in that film.

In an earlier, largely unread post I put forth the theory that Barbara Stanwyck's legacy has grown bigger in the years since her death in 1990. I confindently place her "up there" with three other major actresses of the 1930s-40s. Stanwyck was well-respected in her movie star prime, receiving four Oscar nominations but never winning. The Academy finally honored Stanwyck with an honorary Oscar. Better late than never. Go here for her emotional acceptance speech.

Given my long history and lifelong appreciation for Stanwyck, it wouldn't surprise me if she eventually rises to the top spot on this list. I still need to see her more obscure 1930s work. It'll no doubt be just as rewarding as first seeing her as the tremndous performer she revealed herself to be when I was just discovering her as a movie actress.

Favorite Actresses, #5: Carole Lombard

First Movie I Saw Her In: My Man Godfrey (1936)

Three Favorite Movies: Hands Across the Table (1936); Nothing Sacred (1937); To Be or Not to Be (1942)

Honorable Mention: The Princess Comes Across (1937)

Favorite Performance: Hands Across the Table (1936)

Why I Like Her: Who's that gorgeous gal in the Hollywood Dreamland masthead? Before I ever saw a Carole Lombard movie I was floored by how beautiful she was in photographs. She remains the most photogenic movie star ever. But if good looks were all that mattered, Hedy Lamarr would be the World's Greatest Movie Star.

Nothing appeals to me more than a beautiful woman with a sense of humor; it can't be beat. Lombard was known for her bawdy and uninhibited wackiness. If she were in her prime today she would own Hollywood. Her personality would be ripe for interviews and priceless "sound bytes." In fact, many Carole Lombard stories are brilliant in their raunchy but absolutely priceless content (They can't be repeated here; sorry, we're a family blog).

But it's Lombard the actres that appeals to me most. Lombard, like many of her Golden Age peers, was able to do comedic as well as dramatic roles. There were also those seriocomic scenes within her films when Carole could straddle the line and dazzle using elements of both. There's a scene in My Man Godfrey where her character is "distraught" over Godfrey. It's great how she's able to feign the depths of gloom but make it hilarious at the same time. It was perfect behavior from her character who was wildly immature but was falling in love with William Powell's Godfrey. The scene is exactly the kind of emotional meoldramatics that an "angst-ridden" teenager might engage in---fun for the whole family! It's the best scene of faux-torment ever put on film. I'm convinced that that scene alone was responsible for her Academy Award nomination for Best Actress that year. Carole's greatest strength was her mastery of comedy, bringing along with it a pathos that such an undertaking requires

Despite Lombard's appeal, her fame and reputation is tied to her romance with Clark Gable and to her early, tragic death at age 33 in a plane crash in 1942. Despite a handful of memorable performances (and her reputation as Hollywood's "Profane Angel"--watch the My Man Godfrey outtakes for Carole's "potty mouth") perhaps her filmography lacked that definitive Lombard performance. My Man Godfrey is an ensemble piece, To Be or Not to Be is Jack Benny's film, and the lone movie she did with Gable---1932's No Man of Her Own--is the answer to a trivia question. For better or worse, Lombard is best remembered for what she was offscreen and that's a tragedy in itself. This list consists of several underdogs and forgotten actresses but none are as tied to the Golden Age as Carole is. The fact that she existed in the 1930s (like Jean Harlow) and perished at the beginning of World War II tied her to that age of America more than any other performer.

We'll never know what Carole's career would've been like during and after WWII but she appeared to be on the comeback trail with To Be or Not to Be (playing "Straight Man" to Jack Benny; she did it marvelously) but it requires major guesswork and grasping at straws to envision what "might've been", and that is the greatest tragedy, the not knowing. The fact that such a vibrant, spirited, and caring person died at such a young age is something I often think about when I watch a Lombard film.