Authors: Marc Eliot
“Movie stars operate in an ether …”
Peter Rainer,
Los Angeles Herald-Examiner,
December 1, 1986.
Cherrill's claims of Grant's violence.
The story has been published in various forms elsewhere, most notably in Higham and Moseley,
Cary Grant,
but without a shred of supporting evidence. No police report was ever filed. No medical report exists. Grant's fit of violence may have taken place, but if Grant was leaning ever so slightly toward divorce, Cherrill probably was, too, and incidents of violence nearly always serve as an avenue of sympathy for the victim at civil trial.
“I had been at a party with friends …”
This quote appeared in several newspapers and in Wansell,
Haunted Idol,
102.
“You know what whiskey …”
Quoted in Godfrey,
Cary Grant,
66.
The Grant/Cherrill divorce proceedings.
Public records on file at the Los Angeles County Superior Court.
“My first great chance came in 1936 …”
Quoted in Grant, “What It Means to Be a Star,”
Films and Filming,
July 1961.
“Cary was the perfect central-casting fag …”
The source of the quote insists upon being and will remain anonymous.
“too effete.”
The quote appears in various forms in numerous publications, including Harris,
Cary Grant,
71. The source here is the offspring of a well-known Hollywood figure of the time, who wishes to remain anonymous.
Grant accepted radio work.
Grant may have had other motives for suddenly changing his mind about appearing for free on the airwaves. He had heard that Virginia Cherrill was in New York alone, and he couldn't resist having a paid excuse to make the trip east, in the hope of somehow running into her and reconciling, neither of which happened.
“I could never get weak-kneed …”
McGilligan,
George Cukor,
86.
“the queen of the roost.”
Ibid., 125.
Frank Horn.
Ibid., 127.
“Until then he was a successful young leading man …”
Schickel,
Men Who Made the Movies,
182.
Cukor … claimed … that he had discovered Grant.
For the rest of his life Cukor insisted that
Sylvia Scarlett
was the film that “discovered” Cary Grant and that therefore he, Cukor, was responsible for Grant's long and illustrious Hollywood career. Sarris, in
You Ain't Heard Nothin' Yet,
reflects on all those who claimed Grant as their discovery:
“Mae West has tried to claim credit for ‘discovering’ Grant for
She Done Him Wrong
but he had already made seven movies before the West come-on certified his stud status. The late George Cukor insisted that
Sylvia Scarlett
put Grant over with the moguls. Since the movie itself was such a commercial and critical dud at the time, and almost destroyed Katharine Hepburn's career, Cukor's assertion seems downright bizarre. Nor did Grant's involvement with Marlene Dietrich and Josef von Sternberg in
Blonde Venus
do much for his own image. Although he was listed in casts with such yesteryear icons as Carole Lombard, Sylvia Sidney, Tallulah Bankhead, Jean Harlow, Frances Farmer, and even Grace Moore, he was most effective in a light-fun way with Nancy Carroll in
Hot Saturday
and
The Woman Accused,
and with Joan Bennett in
Big Brown Eyes
and
Wedding Present.”
“
Sylvia Scarlett
was my breakthrough …”
Quoted in Nelson,
Evenings with Cary Grant,
83.
“I am most keenly reminded …”
Bogdanovich,
Who the Devil Made It?,
382.
“If I had stayed at Paramount …”
Nelson,
Evenings with Cary Grant,
84.
Grant's decision to leave Paramount.
He would not make another movie for Paramount until 1954, when he came out of retirement to star in Alfred Hitchcock's
To Catch a Thief.
“As the tall, dark, and handsome male star …”
Steven Cohan, “Cary Grant in the Fifties: Indiscretions of the Bachelor's Masquerade,”
Screen
33, no. 4 (Winter 1992).
Signing with Frank Vincent.
According to Higham and Moseley,
Cary Grant,
Grant was not actually represented by Vincent and Edington but was their partner, having secretly invested much of his savings in the business. Higham and Moseley claim as their source Kendall Carly Browne, Vincent's longtime personal secretary, who “confirmed” that Grant was, in fact, his own agent and split his standard 10 percent commission three ways.
Harry Cohn.
Cohn (often referred to as “Horrible” Harry Cohn), his brother Jack, and Joe Brandt had at one time all worked for Carl Laemmle, the founder of Universal Pictures. Cohn began Columbia Pictures in 1924 from C.B.C. Films Sales Company, which he had founded in 1920. C.B.C. stood for Cohn, Brandt, and Cohn. Harry Cohn changed the name after a major financial reorganization, and because everyone in Hollywood referred to it as “Corned Beef and Cabbage.”
a vulgarian, womanizer, and tantrum-throwing tyrant.
Sarris,
You Ain't Heard Nothin' Yet,
29.
“Howard was the most restful man …”
Quoted in Brown and Broeske,
Howard
Hughes,
125. A necessary word about the nature of the Grant-Hughes relationship, erroneously described in Higham and Moseley. Brown and Broeske express it best: “Following Grant's death in November 1986, writers began depicting their association as a lascivious homosexual affair. Several of them claimed that Hughes and Scott were lovers. Cary and Howard supposedly fell into each other's arms when the romance between Scott and Grant cooled.
But there are no direct sources to prove a Hughes-Grant affair … three exhaustive studies of Howard's life found no hints of bisexuality
[emphasis added]… ‘Howard had so many enemies, including the FBI, that even the most discreet homosexual encounter would have been uncovered,’ said Robert Maheu, the former FBI special agent who became Hughes's second-in-command in the 1950s. And Noah Dietrich told his biographers that he had heard the rumors but knew them to be false.” Brown and Broeske claim to have read Hughes's entire 2,059-page FBI file, which was personally supervised by J. Edgar Hoover. They insist there is no trace of any homosexual activity on Hughes's part, nor in the 100,000-page legal, sexual, and psychological abstract ordered by the Hughes estate. Curiously, one of Higham and Moseley's “sources” for “proof” of Hughes's homosexuality and his supposedly ongoing affair with Cary Grant was Noah Dietrich, one of Hughes's personal aides, who died before they named him as one of their sources. To date, the author has found no evidence of Hughes's homosexuality, and no one who claims to know of any affair between Hughes and Grant. Brown and Broeske also strongly question Grant's “homosexual” affair with Scott, but their research here is marginal at best.
the famed Trocadero nightspot.
The famed restaurant and club was located at 8610 Sunset Boulevard. Along with Ciro's (8433 Sunset) and Mocambo (8588 Sunset), it was the favorite spot for the show-business crowd during the height of the studio era. The Trocadero was one of Grant's favorite places to relax, as was the Brown Derby restaurant, located near Hollywood and Vine.
“For years I had begged Paramount …”
Quoted in Carroll,
Motion Picture,
February 1941.
Phyllis Brooks on first seeing Cary Grant.
“The first time I saw Cary was at Marion Davies'…he was there with Ginger Rogers. He was so tanned he was almost black, while Ginger was lobster red from the sun. It was funny.” Brooks is quoted in Nelson,
Evenings with Cary Grant,
89.
“the love of her life.”
Ibid., 89.
“the Brooks.”
Waterbury, “Story of Cary Grant,” 55.
“The great majority of screwball comedies …”
Sarris,
You Ain't Heard Nothin' Yet,
96–97.
Irene Dunne.
Dunne's other film roles prior to
The Awful Truth
include John Stahl's
Back Street
(1932), John Cromwell's
Ann Vickers
(1933), William Seiter's
Roberta
(1935),
and James Whale's
Show Boat
(1936).
The Awful Truth
was her twenty-third movie. She would costar opposite Grant twice more, before playing what would become her signature role, Mama in George Stevens's
I Remember Mama
(1948). She was nominated a total of five times for an Academy Award for Best Actress, including for
The Awful Truth,
but never won.
“Frustration arises inevitably …”
Sarris,
You Ain't Heard Nothin' Yet,
95. The best short essay on screwball comedy (with essential references) may be found here on pages 89–100.
Frank Capra, who was threatening to walk out on … Columbia.
Although his relationship with Cohn was a difficult one, Capra continued to make films for Columbia until 1939. In 1934
It Happened One Night
was the first picture to win all four of the major Academy Awards—Best Picture, Best Director (Capra), Best Actor (Clark Gable), and Best Actress (Claudette Colbert). Capra won again as Best Director in 1936 for
Mr. Deeds Goes to Town.
That picture was nominated as well but lost to Robert Z. Leonard's
The Great Ziegfeld.
Capra won Oscars for
You Can't Take It With You
(1938, Best Director, Best Picture) and nominations for Best Director and Best Picture in 1939 for
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.
In 1946, as an independent (Liberty Films), he was nominated as Best Director and Best Picture for
It's a Wonderful Life.
“a comedy of
re
marriage.”
Film critic and historian Richard Schickel quotes Cavell on screwball in Schickel,
Cary Grant,
72–73.
Sons of the Desert.
This 1933 Hal Roach comedy was directed by William Seiter and distributed by MGM. In the film, Laurel and Hardy lie about a convention they want to go to, telling their wives that Ollie must go for a curative rest to the mountains. The lie snowballs and nearly causes the two “boys” to lose their wives, before a confession by Laurel more or less redeems them.
Grant and McCarey.
Peter Bogdanovich interviewed McCarey in 1969, shortly before his death, and asked the director what it was like to work with Grant on
The Awful Truth.
McCarey responded with a one-word answer: “Impossible.” When Bogdanovich asked him in what way, McCarey cited Grant's insecurity. The complete interview may be found in Bogdanovich,
Who the Devil Made It?
The Awful Truth
and the Hays Office.
The film tested the limits of the Hays Office in more ways than one. Not only did it hint at unpunished adulterous behavior on the part of its lead, it also dealt comically with divorce, a subject that the censors always found questionable in comedy. The Hays Office much preferred separation by death and a noble widow or widower to even the suggestion of a happy survivor of a bad marriage. Giddy single exes, like double beds, did not often get by the official watchdogs. The film also contained what was, for its day, a very racy bedroom scene between Grant and Dunne, in which the dialogue was colorful and both stars were dressed only in their nightclothes. Dunne, to the consternation of the Hays Office, looked quite fetching in her nightie.
“remarkable for the extent …”
Andrew Britton, “Cary Grant: Comedy and Male Desire,”
Cine-Action!
7 (1986).
“resplendent but characterless …”
Kael, “Man from Dream City.”
“Cary Grant represents a man we know.”
Alfred Hitchcock, from an interview by Peter Bogdanovich,
Esquire,
August 1962.
Radio adaptation of
The Awful Truth.
The radio version proved so popular that Lux repeated it several times. Then, in a highly unusual move that demonstrated nothing so much as the enduring popularity of the film, the Gulf Screen Guild Playhouse purchased the radio rights and did an entirely new version, retaining only Ralph Bellamy from the original cast, with Robert Young and Carole Lombard cast as the Warriners.
while Scott was making Rouben Mamoulian's.
The connective strands fascinate. After
The Last of the Mohicans,
Scott made one more film at Paramount, Rouben Mamoulian's
High, Wide, and Handsome,
which costarred Irene Dunne, just before she was let go in the general bloodletting that took place at the struggling studio. Dunne moved to Columbia, where she was immediately cast opposite Grant in
The Awful Truth.
Scott then moved to Fox, where he appeared in
Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.
Bringing Up Baby.
Some of the background on production and finances is from McCarthy,
Howard Hawks.
Other sources as cited.
the two had to “lock-step” their way to the manager's office.
The Hays Office finally approved the scene because of its heavy comic content, after being convinced by Hawks that absolutely no erotic intent was attached to or suggested by the scene.
“Only one actor was agile enough …”
“Appreciations,”
New York Times,
July 1, 2003, editorial page.
“Sure, the government gets eighty-one cents …”
Quoted in Waterbury, “Story of Cary Grant.” The interview was conducted in the spring of 1938, before Grant's sudden departure in October for London.