Natasha Richardson

1963-2009

The details of Richardson's sudden death are being reported around the globe, as her fame and that of her theatrical family make her skiing accident international news. Her resemblance to her mother Vanessa Redgrave is striking, particularly when hearing her speak in her own voice. The first time I ever encountered it, she and her husband Liam Neeson were providing introductory commentary on the revival of The Man Who Came to Dinner, starring Nathan Lane and being broadcast live on PBS.

To my own surprise and embarrassment, I have never seen a performance of Ms. Richardson's, on stage nor on film. Like everyone else on the planet, I have always been aware of her mother's illustrious career, and was lucky enough to catch Vanessa on stage at the Kennedy Center a few years ago, playing Hecuba. (I recall thinking that she swiped the film version of The Trojan Women from star Katherine Hepburn years ago, though I'm not sure that opinion withstands the test of time.) Natasha's grandparents included Sir Michael Redgrave and the fine actress Rachel Kempson, who worked until her death at age 92 (PBS freaks will remember her small but vivid performance as Lady Manners in The Jewel in the Crown). Her sister Joely has been on my radar since I ran across Nip/Tuck on TV, and I have already mentioned the personal interaction I had with her aunt Lynn Redgrave. Her uncle is the acclaimed British actor Corin Redgrave, and her father was film director Tony Richardson.

But I'm a bit ashamed to admit that Natasha Richardson's performances have escaped my view. Her stage work included what was reportedly a revelatory Anna Christie on Broadway, and she won the Tony for the acclaimed revival of Cabaret in the mid-90s (she has my sincere admiration and gratitude for showing that many musical theatre roles are best played by actors who sing, rather than singers who try to act. Her performance was so finely tuned, nobody cared that her singing voice was not that of the typical Broadway chanteuse). I've missed her film work, too, which consisted of a healthy mix of small indie films (A Month in the Country, Asylum, The Comfort of Strangers) and the occasional big-budget flick (The Parent Trap, Maid in Manhattan).

Her greatest achievements were surely on stage, and included Nina in The Seagull and Blanche in Streetcar Named Desire. Most recently she played opposite her mother in the concert staging of A Little Night Music.

She leaves behind two sons by her husband Liam Neeson, and of course, her extended family of Redgraves and Richardsons, probably comprising the most acclaimed theatrical dynasty of the late 20th century.

Millard Kaufman

1917-2009

Never heard of him? Me neither, but he died the other day at the ripe old age of 92. He was a longtime screenwriter with two Oscar nominations to his credit, for movies of which I have also never heard: Take the High Ground and Bad Day at Black Rock. He was considered a terrific script doctor at MGM, and also wrote a bit for television. He attached his name to the 1950 script of Gun Crazy, the film noir classic which was actually written by the blacklisted Dalton Trumbo, as a favor to their shared agent. In 1992, he officially requested that his name be removed from the film's credits and be replaced with its rightful author. His first novel ("Bowl of Cherries"), which he wrote in his late 80s, was an unexpected smash, and his second book is due out this fall.

So, Millard Kaufman seems to have been an upstanding gent and worthy of recognition, but you may wonder why he is receiving an obit in these pages. I do not, after all, write about everybody who dies, just about folks who hold some interest for me. (It is why I did not report on the death of radio pundit Paul Harvey, who died a few weeks ago. I'm sorry he's gone, of course, but am not all that interested in him or his work.)

Well, here's why. Back in 1949, Kaufman penned the script for a short animated film called Ragtime Bear, and included a character based on his near-sighted uncle. A year later, Kaufman wrote Punchy de Leon for the same character, and a star was officially born:

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY

Now go get snockered.

Ron Silver

1946-2009

"They say that Hollywood is sex without substance, and Washington is substance without sex, so maybe the marriage of the two is mutually intriguing."

So said Ron Silver, an actor by trade but an activist by inclination. He was long known for championing leftish causes such as First Amendment rights and gun control. It was an unwelcome surprise to the liberal Hollywood community when he reversed many of his beliefs and spoke at the 2004 Republican Convention in support of Bush's reelection, calling himself a "9/11 Republican." While falling short of joining the Republican Party (he officially became an Independent), the about-face was not warmly welcomed in Hollywood. Silver was to complain that he lost work due to his support of the Bush administration's conduct in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Silver's career included television, film, and the stage. He was a supporting player in the waning days of Rhoda, and appeared as a regular on several other unsuccessful sitcoms. He made a splash on stage with two portraits of Hollywood, Hurlyburly and Speed-the-Plow, the latter providing Madonna with her only Broadway appearance. (He won the Tony for playing the same role which Jeremy Piven deserted in the recent Broadway revival. I won't shut up about it here.) Other stage appearances included co-starring with Marlo Thomas in her Broadway debut, Social Security.

Among many roles, he played several real life folks, including lawyer Alan Dershowitz (Claus von Bulow's attorney in Reversal of Fortune), Henry Kissinger (Kissinger and Nixon) and male chauvinist and lousy tennis player Bobby Riggs (When Billy Beat Bobby). He made a strong showing in one of my favorite films, Silkwood, playing a union organizer who inadvertently causes Karen Silkwood's death.

He had a rare leading role in another of my favorites, a little known movie called Garbo Talks. His portrayal of a dying woman's son was a sweet departure; he more commonly played characters full of fast talk and deft manipulation. In the 90s he had recurring roles on Chicago Hope, Veronica's Closet, and The West Wing, the latter earning him an Emmy nomination.

Silver will be remembered as much for his political activism as his acting career. He was the president of Actors Equity for most of the 90s, and founded the Creative Coalition, a political action group centered on arts funding and public education. He actively campaigned for Bill Clinton as well as George W. Bush, and believed that Democracy was not a spectator sport.

Ron Silver died yesterday after a two year battle with esophageal cancer. He was 62.

Friday Dance Party: A Huttonannny!

I've been thinking about Betty Hutton lately. Haven't you? Hutton was a huge film star in the 40s and early 50s, though no one has ever heard of her these days. She is chiefly remembered for having replaced Judy Garland in the film adaptation of Annie Get Your Gun. She suffered her own mental demons later in life, addicted to alcohol and sleeping pills, and even attempted suicide in 1970. Apparently her conversion to Catholicism reversed her downward spiral, and she cleaned up her act a bit. She went back to school, earning a Masters degree, and worked various odd jobs until returning to Broadway in the 80s as one of Dorothy Loudon's replacements in Annie.

She's largely forgotten now, which is a shame. I first became aware of this dynamo when, as a kid, I stumbled upon one of her old movies, The Perils of Pauline. In it, she introduced a couple of swell Frank Loesser tunes, including "I Wish I Didn't Love You So" and my favorite, "Rumble Rumble." I've used the latter at auditions occasionally, but nobody can touch Hutton's manic version. She was a topnotch clown, with a malleable face which rivaled that other female comic star of the period, Martha Raye (Hutton was much more attractive, however, and could believably play romantic scenes as well as comic ones). Her comedy songs were always gems, written by the top composers of the day such as Johnny Mercer, Cole Porter, Irving Berlin, and of course Loesser. She burst onto the scene in 1942, in a supporting role in The Fleet's In, swiping the film from star Dorothy Lamour with her hilarious rendition of "Arthur Murray Taught Me Dancing In A Hurry." A year later she was teamed with another Paramount superstar, Bob Hope, in Let's Face It, and by the end of the decade, she was the studio's top-grossing female star. She took billing over Fred Astaire in 1950's Let's Dance, and her performance as Annie Oakley the same year is generally considered classic.

Hutton broke her contract when Paramount refused to allow her husband at the time (she had four total) to direct her next film, and her career began its swift decline.

Here's just one example of Hutton's song styling, complete with machine-gun lyrics and bulldozer delivery. There's even a bit of dancing, in honor of the week's Dance Party, and a special guest, too. I can't stop talking about it!

Betty Hutton died two years ago this week.

COLLISION

My past and my present collided full-force on Sunday. It was our final performance, so I suppose I should announce that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead is dead. I have to say I am sorry to see its demise. After experiencing some frustration with playwright Tom Stoppard's intricate wordplay ("too smart for the room," as some comedians might complain), our company emerged with an engaging, entertaining and even endearing piece. The houses were good, for the most part, with only one or two quiet ones; I can't tell if the odd newspaper review we received (I mentioned it here) affected our crowds or not. But the audiences seemed to follow the show easily enough, and even my folks had fun. (My father's enjoyment had a bit to do with the fact that I had composed a Cheat Sheet for him in advance; though he actually saw me in a full production of Hamlet, he didn't remember a thing about it, and Stoppard's play is better enjoyed by those familiar with Shakespeare's play).

My old high school buddy Randi enjoyed it, too. I have not seen her in...well...let's just say, it's been SEVERAL decades. She found me on Facebook and discovered, by reading my extremely colorful Status Updates, that I was working in Asheville. Turns out she moved here about three years ago, so she snagged tickets for herself and her husband and came to our closing performance. This picture of Randy (she's on the right) is blurred, but my memories of her are not. Back in the Day, she was part of the crowd which included the drama kids and the gang involved in the school's chorus. My very first full-length show, in fact, was Our Town (just like everybody else's, I suspect), in which I played the Stagemanager, and Randi played the hero's kid sister. Ah, memories....

When Randi approached me after the show on Sunday, I could have sworn I had gone back in time. Her bubbly, cheerfully sardonic personality was fully intact, and physically, she had changed very little. It's amazing that I have such clear memories of those days, but cannot remember where I parked my car an hour ago. We had a lovely chat for half an hour or so, and promised to meet again for a longer catch-up. I had to cut our reunion short in order to pop out to our director's house for a low-keyed BBQ with the cast and crew.

It was only then that I began to feel the usual letdown which comes with the closing of a show. Admittedly, my responsibilities in this particular production were not huge, but I had a lovely time with this crowd from NC Stage, and I hope to work with them again. (I wrote a bit about them here). I think they are doing things right, growing at the right pace (not that I'm such an expert about such things), and most importantly, seem to be able to keep the high stress factor which always accompanies theatrical endeavors from affecting their work, or their lives. Not an easy feat.

Sydney Chaplin

1926-2009

As Charlie Chaplin's third son, Sydney struggled to step out of his father's shadow. He had only limited success on film (appearing in two of his father's) but found greater fame onstage. He gained a reputation of being able to hold his own opposite powerhouse leading ladies. He won the Tony as Best Featured Actor in a Musical for his performance in Bells Are Ringing, opposite Judy Holliday:

(Chaplin is in the middle, flanked by Holliday and Jerome Robbins)

He avoided getting mowed down by Barbra Streisand in her starring vehicle Funny Girl, winning a Tony nomination for Best Actor in a Musical for his portrayal of Nick Arnstein:

Chaplin was not seriously considered to appear in his shows' film versions; his roles went to established movie stars. Dean Martin played his character in Bells Are Ringing, and Omar Sharif played Arnstein in Funny Girl (with most of the character's singing requirements removed). After several subsequent Broadway flops and some forgettable European movies, Chaplin retired to California and opened a restaurant. He died this week at the age of 82, leaving behind a son, a grand-daughter and, thanks to his father's four marriages, eight half-siblings, including actress Geraldine Chaplin.