Kate luuuurved her, nothing else matters! Also, Mulligan — Irish redhead. Well, well…where have I seen this before?
Kate also loved Bobby Helpmann, but I’m not so apt to ring his praises. Heppy of the Questionable Tastes. Joooookes, he was a marvelous choreographer and theatre luminary; it’s just a running gag in my circle, so…
Our life stories are about the unrequited love affairs we’ve had with dead Irish redheads. Let’s co-write a book.
Plaza O4433. I listened to “Drop That Name” 75 times yesterday. I probably need help. Or something.
I can’t see him; he can’t see me!
Girl, I needn’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to “Drop That Name.” Talk about culture blast. BELLS ARE RINGING is such an “under the radar” musical, but for those Old Hollywood babies (and I know you’re out there), who are looking for a light comedy with some good tunes, this is it. Dean Martin is the male lead, and while I don’t think he has much chemistry with Holliday, it’s fun seeing them play opposite each other.
Just… Netflix that stuff. Or Novamov it! Whichever.
yes methinks judy H was involved with Mulligan when she passed away. his brief appearance in BELLS ARE RINGING in blind date bar scene is bittersweet … carry on …
Many thanks, Martha!! This brain of mine draws a blank at the most inopportune of times.
BELLS ARE RINGING is a great favorite of mine, while we’re at it. I think back to a 15-year-old me humming those Comden and Greene melodies as I’m rushing to Chemistry lab. “It’s A Perfect Relationship” was my most-played song on iTunes, that year. How random. But not really.
Grazie mille! YOU’RE A REAL PAL. Also, I read she dated Gerry Mulligan?!!? He’s like one of my favorites… Some wicked jazz he played w/ Chet Baker. Anyway…. love!
Prego! Mulligan is the “musician” to whom I refer, in fact! They were still involved when she passed away… At least, I think? I know they had a break at one point, but I read that book 8 years ago… ANY JUDY LOVERS WHO FOLLOW ME, PLZ SPEAK NOW, OR FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE.
PS, I think it was rather bitchy of you to refer to Judy as “Fatso” in your letters, dear Jasper. You didn’t seem to have much of an opinion of her as a personality or talent, either. To this I say: nuts!
A casual hello back to your trollface!
No pressure, huh? Ah, well, I s’pose we should both consider it lucky that I, too, went on a
Fat Judy binge in high school (thank you, interloan system!). And I’m sorry to report that both books, much like Sam Craig’s manners, leave much to be desired. Judy’s considered sort of B-grade material to biographers — of this, I am at a[n almost] complete loss, because her life story is the stuff of Hollywood lore: born the only child of Russian immigrants; worked in a NYC nightclub act with the likes of Betty Comden and Adolphe Green before heading West; came back East and made it big on Broadway; Kate Hepburn hires herself as Judy’s agent; wins an Academy Award; gets typecast, despite genius IQ; produces a son sometime in between all of this; divorces; has an affair with a musician; labeled a pinko by the FBI; career flops; dies tragically of breast cancer at the age of 44.
How could all of that not make for a fascinating read?
Since her career had more or less reached a dead-end by the time she hit 40, due to all of the reasons stated above, she has fallen by the wayside—-along with countless other typecasts.
The Gary Carey book, Judy Holliday: An Intimate Life Story, is good if you’re looking for a more detailed account of what I’ve just regurgitated from memory. Other than that, it offers no extensive research or particular “intimate” insight into the woman movie-goers in the 50s thought was just another “dumb blond.” Carey is a lazy author; he wrote a ~biography on Kate, too, and it sucks.
And, at the risk of myself being called “lazy,” you could copy the descriptors in the above paragraph and paste it below here, in reference to Judy Holliday: A Biography, by Will Holtzman. Although he offers more objective analysis of Judy’s downfall, his scholarship is a little “eh.” But it’s the best you’re going to get, in terms of a full-bodied biography on the actress.
Pardon the lack of eloquence, but I just really dig Judy Holliday. She was a tremendous wit, you’ll find, if you haven’t already.
Publishin’ because I heart Fatso, and you should, too.
I’m sorry for offending your botanist sensibilities, Max. I’ll be more conscious next time, promise.
And hush, Lindsay can still make a comeback. Her teeth, however, cannot.
(Now I have, like, 5 .gifs in my folder. Progress!)
Hullo! There’s no pressure to be witty on muh blag (and right back at’cha!). I’m like, the lowest common denominator of pseudo-writers. The last piece I wrote was a crackfic involving dead movie stars, not unfamiliar sights to this blog, competing in a three-legged race. Then bad sex happened. The End. (It was a request, OK?)
But thanks for the message!!!
Hi, I’m HollywoodHepcat! A handle I have used since the Dawn of Time! [On most calendar days,] I like a lady Peter called “Nags” (which is the most appropriate nickname I have ever heard for a person), select years of Chardonnay, and being pantsless!!!!!!!
Hi, pal, how are you?
No, because some person in navy blue knock-off Crocs said that, once, and I don’t want to be like her.
I would be a Dutch Elm with Dutch Elm’s disease. Or, whatever this tree is/was, circa Fall of ‘41:
(That’s the Thalberg Building, for those just checking in.) Because I’m a creeper and want to see Spence glowering at a flushed Kath’s dirty fenganails.
HAY GURL HAY, YOURSELF! :-D
SHOW HER WHAT SHE’S WON, OPRAH!
Well, I’ll send you some cold cream.
If I had that .gif I made 85443895776 years ago of Kattyslacks stupidly waving from the plane in SOTU, this is where I would employ it.
I… never prompt people to ask me questions because then I feel turrible for being late in the reply (I’m just really thoughtful!!!!!), but the last thing I want is a reputation for being stand-offish. I leave that for the pros. Or, ya’ know, people who’ve actually done something with their lives.
So, maybe shoot me an ask sometime tonight if you’re not too busy?
I’m just really lazy and haven’t saved any other .gif since lappy’s system restore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Like, if it were between Spence’s tongue thrust (omg) or Cary’s buttchin, I’d choose Cary’s buttchin. And Cary’s buttchin gives me the wig.
But I do like his polka-dotted tie. So.
First: I have a non-blog, in which I bemoan my misspent youth fangirling dead people. I only give the illusion of authority because I haven’t left the Intarwib since 1997. Quality, shmaulity. Your first post as of this moment is Garbo; therefore, your blog is resplendent.
Third: Be awkward [you’re not, btw] in the Sarlacc pit that is my inbox any ol’ time! It might take me a few days to respond because I am awful at that sort of thing, but there is no need to feel inferior over here, cool? We cool. No one wins awards for maintaining a tumblr!!! (Although, that Bea Arthur and Pizza blog was a strong contender for… something.)