A Star Is Born: The Making of the 1954 Movie and Its 1983 Restoration (36 page)

What caused Garland's erratic behavior has been the subject of much
conjecture over the years. Probably the most accurate assessment of her
situation was given by Gerold Frank in his biography of the actress:

There were ... times when nothing stimulated and all depressed her, when,
no matter how hard she fought, she had to turn to pills, to liquor, to chemical
help. Her dilemma was intensified by lack of food; she would go through
periods like an alcoholic, but with medication rather than whiskey; she would
become toxic; she would be unable to eat ... food would at least help absorb
and dilute the drugs.... Judy had never grown up emotionally. This had
nothing to do with her mentality, or sharpness, or cunning-intellectually
and physically she was a grown woman; emotionally, she was still Baby
Gumm.... Any stress could precipitate the problem. She couldn't describe
what it was because she couldn't describe it to herself. It wasn't actually a
pain; it was crankiness, irritability, depression. When she took pills to knock
out the depression-she wanted to be gay, entertaining, that was what she
had been brought up to be, that brought her all rewards, her very identity then the pills, and lack of food, did lead to acute physical pain-to migraine,
to drilling lights in her eyes ... which in turn led her to take more pills to
knock out the pain. Then, when the pain vanished, there was a great lassitude, a feeling of intense malaise, and an overwhelming fear that she'd get
out there and be unable to sing, unable to act.

In his autobiography, I Remember It Well, Vincente Minnelli related
that

it took me some time to find out that ... her screams of pain and shortness
of breath-were due to [the fact that] she was suffering the agonies of
withdrawal, and sadly she didn't tell me ... Judy probably didn't know
herself. I had taken her tangible demons for mental phantoms. She would
come through the ordeal with the help of a combination sedative and
analgesic administered by a physician who came to our house. Judy would
awake from the siege, renewed, and with invigoration and anticipation. Life
for her was beautiful on those mornings when she awoke from the nightmares of the previous evening.

And so it was on A Star Is Born. With Luft's help and a two-week
rest-and-withdrawal period, Garland returned to Warner Bros. on April io,
ready to finish what she would later refer to as "the most important picture
of my career." During her extended absence, Cukor and editor Folmar
Blangsted had assembled a rough cut of the film, and on March 25 it had
been screened for Luft, Garland, Warner, and several of the other top
executives of the company. Concerning this showing, Cukor wrote to Moss
Hart later in the week:

My reaction to the picture was clouded. I was so distracted by scene after
scene not coming off, especially since I remembered the rushes as being
completely successful. I'd never seen the picture assembled before this running. Some of the cutting took me aback to say the least ... James did seem
to go on with his drunken meanderings backstage; the proposal scene on the
recording stage was a mish mash, with the wrong reaction in the wrong
places. Mrs. Fiske's phrase "The firm, firm touch on the wrong, wrong note"
was sure applicable here. But we're getting on just dandy with the re-cutting.
The first reel, the exterior of the Shrine, is finished. It's a real humdinger.
We're well into the backstage of the Shrine, and that's going to be mighty
exciting too. We're working meticulously and carefully. I'm not letting them give me the bum's rush. They tried, mind you. . . . But when it's all
straightened out, production numbers added, etc., we'll have an honest,
exciting, impressive and moving film. Far wiser heads than mine (Sid Luft,
Alperson, Jack Warner ... ) were delighted. They stated unequivocally that
we all had a winnah.

It was after this screening that Warner evidently decided that they
indeed "had a winnah"-almost. The picture, even in its rough, unfinished
state, was so obviously exciting and moving that he was convinced that with
just a little more time, effort, and money, it could be one of the finest
pictures ever made by Warner Bros. Accordingly, he told Luft and Cukor
to reshoot not only the unfinished "Lose That Long Face" but also five
dramatic scenes that Warner felt did not show Garland off at her best,
either photographically or dramatically.

Work on these reshoots began on Tuesday night, April 13, back at
Robert's Drive-In at Sunset and Cahuenga; and for the next five days,
Cukor moved the company through the retakes quickly and effortlessly.
Garland, rested and enthusiastic, worked tirelessly and energetically. Ironically, the last dramatic scene taken was a redo of the first day's shooting
from way back in October: Garland as Esther Blodgett, stand-in for a star,
hiding her face and waving from a train window. After that, Cukor even
stayed on the stages to watch while Richard Barstow began redirecting and
reshooting "Lose That Long Face."

Having made all his cuts and corrections on the film with editor
Blangsted, Cukor left Hollywood on April 28 for New York, where he
would do several interviews about the film before sailing for Europe and
an extended vacation. When queried by Hy Hollinger of Variety as to why
the film took so long to shoot, Cukor, ever the gentleman, replied, "I really
don't know; maybe it's because I'm a slow director." He was so delighted
and relieved to be finished with filming that he even forgave Garland her
previous antics, commenting later that "all through the shooting . . . I
remember going up to Judy after each take and whispering, 'Not as good
as Kay Fwancis.' It was a bit of a running joke and it helped both of us
through the long shooting schedule without endless discussions about what
this or that scene meant or constant psychological investigation about the
significance of the whole thing.... I remember on the last day, the very
last take with Judy, I went up afterwards and in confidential tones told her,
'That was better than Kay Fwancis.' "

While Cukor was on his way to Europe, James Mason checked in at the
Disney Studios in Burbank, to begin work on 20,000 Leagues Under the
Sea; but at Warner Bros. there remained much more work to be done on
the unfinished A Star Is Born. Aside from the cutting, special effects,
scoring, dubbing, and myriad other postproduction details, one more musical number was still needed. Ira Gershwin, who had been at the March 25
screening, commented:

Everything about the picture looks and sounds great. There's only one
problem: what to do about a production number that's to wind up the first
half (the showing is to have an intermission-the picture runs about three
hours so far). The situation in the film is the sneak previewing of Vicki
Lester's first movie-a showing which makes her a star overnight. All that's
necessary is to put Vicki in a good number for four or five minutes, then show
the audience's enthusiastic acceptance of a new star, as they fill out the
preview cards in the lobby. Arlen and I wrote three songs for this spot:
"Green Light Ahead," "I'm Off the Downbeat," and "Dancing Partner,"
all good by anyone's standards, but it seems that the choreographer couldn't
get any production ideas. Could be that they may even interpolate an outside
number which would be a shame.

Everyone agreed that a song was needed at this point; what no one could
agree on was just what kind. According to Sid Luft: "The three songs [that
Arlen and Gershwin had written] were bad songs. Jack Warner said, 'We
need a ... big musical number here; we gotta show what makes her a big
star.' "

Luft had anticipated this, and early in April he had, unbeknownst to
Gershwin or Warner, again contacted Roger Edens. "I called him," recalls
Luft, "and he came over to the house, and I said, 'Roger, could you do
something for me? We need a four-or-five-minute production numbersomething expansive.' " Edens evidently discussed Luft's request with a
young songwriter named Leonard Gershe, and together the two devised the
idea of song recounting the supposed "overnight" success of a singer. In
it's original form, it was simple, humorous and touching in depicting the
struggles of an unknown from Pocatello, Idaho to climb to the top of the
show business ladder. They gave it the title "Born In A Trunk," after the
famous theatrical phrase. When Edens told Luft and Garland about it,
Luft recalled: "Judy and I thought it was such a great idea-the theme of it, that it doesn't happen overnight, that it's all hard work. It was a great
idea and the timing was right."

It appealed to Garland for another reason. For the first act finale of her
act at the Palace, she had sat on the edge of the stage and done a medley
of songs that were identified with the famous performers who had played
the legendary house. It had always been an audience pleaser, with standing
ovations, and she considered it a good-luck piece. Garland asked Edens
(who had come up with the idea for the Palace) if "Born In A Trunk" could
be re-written to incorporate a medley of some of her favorite songs. "[The
piece] was written as favor to me and Judy", related Luft. "[Roger] was
under contract to Metro, and he couldn't be caught doing something for
Warner Bros., so he moonlighted and Lenny Gershe received solo credit."

The two men were fast and facile professionals; using the structure and
format Edens had devised in 1952 for "The Broadway Ballet" in MGM's
Sin gin' in the Rain, they completed the entire number within two weeks
and Luft and Garland were able to present the entire number to Jack
Warner and Cukor in late April. They were counting on Warner's wellknown love of music, especially big song-and-dance spectacles, a holdover
from his own youthful days as a boy singer. Warner, remembering the
impact of the same type of number in Garland's stage show, and still
concerned that there were too few songs in the film, was very excited by
the idea, feeling that it would wind up the first half of the film in a rousing
and showmanlike manner. Cukor, however, felt that the film was already
too long, and that "Born in a Trunk," at least as outlined by Luft and
Garland, would add considerably to the running time without adding to the
dramatic impact of the story. But he was only the director, and in those
days directors could easily be overruled by producers and heads of studios,
which is exactly what happened. As Ira Gershwin perceptively remarked:
"This sequence was ... excellent for its original purpose-vaudeville and
nightclubs.... But it added fifteen minutes to [the] film, held up the show,
and cost $300,ooo. Big mistake (but all none of my business)."

Gershwin was right about everything except the cost; the budget okayed
by Warner was $250,000 for a rehearsal and shooting schedule that would
last from June 7 through July 28. Edens and Gershe had literally written
a short subject, a major production that opened with Vicki/Esther seen
doing a rousing version of "Swanee" as the finale of the show she is in. As
the audience cheers and applauds, she sits down on the stage apron and
recites and sings the story of her life as a trouper, from the day she was "born in a trunk in the Princess Theatre in Pocatello, Idaho," through her
first appearance on a stage as a tot running on to take part in her parents'
bows. She is seen next as a teenager, making her solo debut, singing "I'll
Get By"; then the "show must go on" tradition finds her performing
"When My Sugar Walks Down the Street" with her father after her
mother's death; her efforts at finding herself an agent are covered in
accelerating versions of "You Took Advantage of Me"; while her days as
a chorus girl are highlighted by "The Black Bottom." Visions of herself as
a chanteuse are humorously depicted in "The Peanut Vendor"; then she
finally makes it into a smart Manhattan supper club, singing "My Melancholy Baby," where she is discovered by a Broadway producer, who gives
her a chance for stardom, singing and dancing to "Swanee." Coming full
circle, she ends her account with a powerful, full-throated, anthemlike
finale about having been "born in a trunk in the Princess Theatre in
Pocatello, Idaho."

Warner's enthusiasm for the number was such that he evidently took
upon himself the responsibilities of producer, telling Luft in a May 15
memo:

Now that Huene is back and everyone is on salary, let's see if we can get this
into rehearsal as quickly as possible.... My impression is that the number
should be in front of the cameras by the first week in June, or before, if
possible. If everything is well organized and the sets are ready, I am sure Judy
can get up on the number in quick time. Just hearing her doing it a few times
at home, I am sure she can. The important thing is to prepare the costumes,
the sets, and Barstow's work so that we can get the rehearsals going. I may
be repeating myself, but it is so important that I must do so, as time is the
thing that really counts. Whenever you are ready for a run-through, I will
appreciate your getting in touch with me as I would like to go on the set with
you to watch the number and note how long it runs.

Warner, probably at Garland's suggestion, had hired the prestigious
Irene Sharaff to design the costumes and sets for the sequence, hoping that
she would be able to achieve the same results that she had on An American
in Paris. For Gene Allen and Hoyningen-Huene, this was a ticklish situation: "She designed none of the sets," states Allen. "She did the costumes,
and they were sensational. Her agent was Irving Lazar, so somewhere, that's
how all that language [about sets] got in there. We worked very well together. Cukor had left, but he had asked me to stay on, to protect his
interests. He did say he would like to keep it in the same'style that we'd
done. So I designed all the sets; I did some sketches, and Sharaff thought
they were terrific and Huene thought they were terrific ... they were all
the sketches for all those numbers. I did them all in probably two days,
including the big red scene I did for 'Swanee.' I just did rough little
sketches, but the great thing was when you're working with a team like
Irene Sharaff and Huene, to be the creative person who has this kind of
idea and they say `That's terrific, we like it-do it.' And Dick (Barstow]
went along with it. [The scenes in the agent's offices] were all [based on]
Mondrian-at least the last one was. For `The Peanut Vendor,' where
they're playing the rhumba, George Huene took my sketch of the bar and
followed it through. I had done rough little sketches and I had given
everything a greenish cast, and Huene took it and said, `This is what it
is-this is the color,' and so they did it just that way, with the people in
green makeup. Some of it's almost too stylized, but it works. For that stage
curtain, when [the girl and her family are performing in the beginning of
the number], Irene Sharaff had Lenny Gershe do all the ads that are
painted on the curtain-like the one for the spiritualist, 'Chummy chats
with far off friends,' that sort of thing. He just made them up and they were
perfect."