Brass Diva: The Life and Legends of Ethel Merman (66 page)

Cointreau goes on to note that Ethel's desire to bring dignity to Rose not
only brought depth to the role but also generated sympathy for it. "Ethel
never thought that Mama Rose was horrible or filled with dementia. You
loved her because she did it from a place of innocence," he says.108 Historian
Gerald Bordman agrees: "Her electric personality made the abrasive, almost
unpleasant Rose seem a little lovable."109 Merman's belief in the inherent goodness of a relatively unsympathetic character makes her depiction of Rose
all the more potent.

Still, portrayed in a decade of Momism, Rose was far from universally
loved. One woman, who had seen the show as a young teenager, found the
character outmoded, out of sync with what mothers were "supposed" to be
like in the world at the time and when relating to their children. She perceived Rose as out of touch, over the top, and a bit camp, features that, again,
fans or critics may have imposed on Merman herself. Clearly for that viewer,
the values and brand of motherhood that Merman depicted as Rose were as
passe as vaudeville itself.

Ironically, Merman's ability to convince people that she was Madame
Rose, in the standout performance of her career, convinced some that Ethel
was not performing at all but was simply playing herself. That her persona
could be so "Rosified" points to changes not only in Merman's persona but
also in larger cultural attitudes toward women, family, ambition, and fame.

Gypsy came out nine years after Billy Wilder's movie Sunset Boulevard was
released and three years before Robert Aldrich's Whatever Happened to Baby
Jane? Both movies tell the stories of older female celebrities whose successes
and productivity were well behind them. The stars who played them-Gloria
Swanson, Bette Davis, and Joan Crawford-were cast for that reason and
were lauded for their "bravery" in taking such unflattering roles. The women
played their characters with verve, and the direction of both films highlights
the physical signs of their aging-faux-glamorous clothing, excessive makeup
and wigs-as indications of their deluded desires to recapture lost youth and
fame. Although these characters stood outside the category of Philip Wylie's
mothers, they were no less victimized by its scorn, although less for their putative power than for having once been beautiful stars. Rose didn't prompt
many critics to comment on her physical appearance; it was her psychological
makeup that was deemed out of whack and past its prime, since this was a
character who refused, like Norma Desmond of Sunset Boulevard, to move
with reality or the times. (For many, of course, that stubbornness is part of
Rose's allure.)

Merman's magnetic performance as Rose inspired other stars, such as Kaye
Ballard and Liza Minnelli, to go into musical theater themselves. Ballard
would go on to play Madame Rose (but "no one came close to Merman," she
insisted),"' and when Liza Minnelli performs, she performs "Some People"
to acknowledge these historical "roots." Other stars have been just as awed
by Ethel's Rose. One wrote: "Dear Ethel: I guess every once and a while we
all get kinda blase and tired of our business. Hence this note. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for inspiring me so very much, I can't wait
to get before an audience again. You're the true champ of all time. God bless
you, and I love you and everything you stand for. Most humbly, Jerry
[Lewis].""'

Today, middle-aged women recall seeing Gypsy as children with their mothers. Many now are mothers themselves who take their daughters to revivals or
play them the original cast recording, handing down an important memory.
One says she and her eleven-year-old always sing along to the album and attended the Bernadette Peters revival together. "It's fun passing along my love
for this show by sharing it with her. The songs are my favorite. I never saw
Merman-I [first] saw Tyne Daly, who was amazing, but we listen to the Merman recording. It must have been great to see her do it."112 Diane, a businesswoman, recalled: "Ethel Merman simply blew me away. It was electrifying in
that audience.... I remember how her voice enveloped me in that theater. My
strongest memory was `Everything's Coming Up Roses'; I thought it was a really happy song. `Rose's Turn' was lost to me-I must have thought it was too
grown up, but I remember the intensity she gave off when she was doing it."113

Other women were less wowed. The manager who worked at the Broadway Theatre during Gypsy's run there recalls that many middle-aged and
older women didn't care for the show at all. They had grown up with Ethel
Merman and had followed her career, and now these women were mothers
themselves. Here she was, playing this horrible "jungle mother." "They felt
betrayed by Miss Merman," theater historian Miles Krueger remembers the
manager saying, 114 as if the star were attacking them and their life choices,
even though their Mama Rose was a world away from Merman's intentions.

The Gypsy Tour

Ethel was able to spend several weeks relaxing before preparations began to
take Gypsy on the road, seeing family and friends from Queens, spending
time at home, socializing at nightclubs, attending events. In April she attended the opening night of Vivien Leigh's return to Broadway in Duel of
Angels; in May, she took in jazz pianist sensation Frances Faye. She attended
dinners honoring the widely liked Dinah Shore and another for Bob Hope,
a luncheon at the Friar's Club and one for the Banchees, the group that honored journalists. The following month, when Hedda Hopper reported that
the single Ethel had "slimmed down," it might well have been from going to
all of these engagements.

Rehearsals for Ethel's tour of the show began early in 1961; Merman's old
friend Lew Kessler would be continuing as pianist for the tour. Jule Styne
helped with the initial conducting and arranging, and Milton Rosenstock
would conduct on tour. Cast changes included Julienne Marie who played
Louise; Herbie was played by Alfred Sandor.

Conserving her energy, Ethel avoided booking matinee and evening shows
on Wednesdays, making Saturday her only two-performance day. The tour
opened on Wednesday, March 29, 1961, at the Auditorium Theatre in
Rochester, New York, and there it remained through April i. Although Gypsy
didn't perform quite as well there as the tour of The Sound of Music had, it
did well. The next stop was Detroit's Riviera Theatre (April 3-15), where
Shirley Eder, the gossip columnist based there, attended with her husband,
Edward Slotkin, and threw a party for Ethel. The local press reported, "Miss
Merman was amused at comments that she was `holding up very well.' `I get
lots of sleep,' she laughed, `and lead what I guess you'd call a normal life. But
I've been around so long that a lot of people expect me to come onstage in
a wheel chair. They should remember,' and her eyes twinkled impishly, `I
started very young.' "115

Everywhere the show went, reviewers took note of the overwhelming, sustained applause of crowds when Ethel took the stage. To calm the pandemonium, Merman often had to do something she didn't want to-break out of
character and bow.

From Detroit the show went to the Cleveland Public Music Hall, where
it played for six days, starting April 17 during a late-season snowstorm. The
weather did not dampen her reception. Harlowe Hoyt of the Cleveland Plain
Dealer wrote: "It is a new Merman who plays Rose Hovac [sic], mother of
June and Louise.... And some way or other, it is a more mature Merman,
as though the duty of introducing her two youngsters into the theatrical
world imbues her with a responsibility that has toned down her ebullient
spirit to characterization more sincere than any of her previous roles."' 16 The
next stop was three weeks at Boston's Colonial, a sixty-year-old theater whose
records the show broke. Its grateful management ran a huge public thankyou to Ethel Merman in Variety on behalf of "the legitimate theatre ticket
agencies of Boston and New England," predicting that Gypsy would gross two
hundred thousand dollars during its run. (On this ad Ethel wrote, "This has
never been done before by the ticket men.")117 The day before Mother's Day,
Gypsy closed in Boston.

From there it went to Toronto's O'Keefe Performing Arts Centre, where
it-and Merman especially-were well received. The press complimented her for "toning down [Rose's] cannibalism" and "offering the impression that
Rose basically has only her children's interest at heart."118 Two days before the
show opened, a Toronto TV channel broadcast Straight, Place and Show in
honor of the arriving star, and Gypsy stayed in Toronto from May 15 to 27.

The next stop for the Gypsy train was Chicago. Mayor Richard Daly wrote
in advance to welcome Ethel, just as Toronto's mayor, Nathan Phillips, had
done. Chicago was a bigger deal than Toronto, though, since Ethel had last
performed there in April 1937, in Red, Hot and Blue! The start of that show
had been postponed a day because the scenery was late in arriving, and Merman had found the crowds distant and cool. Apparently they'd had a chance
to warm up, for Gypsy ran there from May 29 to August 3:

They're wrong about Ethel Merman. She's not like a brass band. She's like a
symphony orchestra. When the vivacious 51 year old star talks about her children or her four month old granddaughter, she's all violins and cellos-warm,
mellow, and affectionate. When she talks about her long (5,000 performances)
career, she's woodwinds and French horns, full of love for her work and gratefulness for the warmth of her public. And when she talks about how Chicago
has received her in Gypsy, her izth hit and the first time she's ever been on the
road, she beats the drums and clashes the cymbals.119

Merman returned the favor by calling Chicagoans a "hep audience. 11121
While there, Ethel did local benefits for Easter Seals and area hospitals; she
socialized with local figure Eddie Bragno (whom she still called "a friend and
a most enjoyable escort," but informed the press not to consider them "a romantic duo").121 Benay Venuta was there for part of the run, as was Bobby,
and again Merman saved city maps for her parents, marking out "my hotel"
and "theater." As she happily told Radie Harris, "This `Gypsy' life is for me.
You suddenly discover that ALL the people aren't at El Morocco and the
Stork, and because they don't live in N.Y. they must be `square.' And everything really comes up roses on the road, with a Mayor to present them in
each city!" 122

Ethel was enjoying new fans and colleagues: a card and flowers from
clothing designer Danny MacMahon; a long letter from an "usherette" at
the Chicago Shubert, who thanked her for coming to Chicago (Merman
writes, "I have answered this"); and other cards, one from the Chicago crew
depicting an audience weeping, another of elephants never forgetting. Gypsy
closed two days earlier than planned in the Windy City to allow extra time for the gear and crew to get to San Francisco, where it was to open Monday,
August 7.

Reviewers across the country often started by saying that they had never
been Merman fans or had understood what the fuss was all about, though
after seeing Gypsy, many wrote they were ready to take it all back. It's as if seeing her live gave them a conversion experience. In that regard, touring gave
Merman a way to show that she was more than the one-dimensional performer that circulated in the national imagination. By now, references to
Ethel-and her voice-were downright predictable: "one of a kind," "inimitable," "leather-lunged." If the show itself received some criticism from the
out-of-town critics, Merman still reigned supreme with them. Still, no one
was prepared for the reception Ethel got in San Francisco.

That August, the curtains at the Curran Theatre were half an hour late
going up because the scenery and props, which had arrived ten hours late,
were still being hung. When Rose finally went down the theater aisle, a
long, deafening ovation greeted Merman. Neither she nor the city recalled
anything like it. "Not since the San Francisco earthquake," wrote Radie
Harris. 123

The overwhelming reception was not just from an audience grateful that
Ethel had gone "west of the Hudson," although that was a tremendous part
of it. Much was specific to San Francisco, a culturally savvy town that appreciated theater and a visit from Broadway's living legend. (Chinese- and
Russian-language papers in the city even reviewed the show.) The city's large
gay population was a significant part of the welcoming chorus as well, appreciative of a living theater icon who had come to visit.124

Several slightly gender-bending Gypsy artifacts are included in Ethel's
scrapbooks. A local columnist challenged his readers to "list ten stars ... who
could replace Ethel Merman in Gypsy. Noel Coward is ineligible." Another
comes from a postcard Ethel received while staying in San Francisco. Glued
to the back of it is a newspaper clipping of the publicity portrait of her in
Gypsy, and under it the caption reads "Zero Mostel." "Something wrong
here?-F," wrote the sender, possibly Fred Clark, Benay's husband, who often
sent Ethel gag notes. Another clipped newspaper photo has Ethel putting on
her eye makeup, the caption missing an s so that it read "TARRY EYED." Merman had the humor to save them all.125

In San Francisco, Ethel also had a chance to visit with Ethel Jr. and Bobby,
who had both come in for the show. She had time to shop and was spotted
once at a local Woolworth's. There were the usual social engagements before she even arrived, Ethel told an interviewer, "I have been invited to 61
black tie dinners and 103 barbecues."126 She stayed in the exclusive Nob Hill
area and on one occasion had the chance to express her appreciation of the staff
at the Mark Hopkins Hotel there. Buddy Hackett, Ethel's upcoming costar in
It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, told the press, "Last night we had three cartons of leftovers from a Chinese dinner delivered to her [because Gypsy features
Chinese food] at the Mark [Hopkins].... It was 4 am.... It seemed like a
great idea then. I hear Ethel's fired the whole staff!"127 Merman's handwritten
note is stapled to the clipping: "He did send over the food, but I never saw it
I had put in my `Do Not Disturb' at i o'clock and was awakened by the operator. She got hell from management for disturbing me and I got a letter of apology from management, but no one was fired-that's what Buddy made up."