The Queen of Pre-Code. The Grande Dame of Dangerous Curves…and a awesome right hook. Way before Big Valley, Barbara Stanwyck was a force to be reckoned with on the Big Screen. Shortly after silent movies were out and Pre-Code (The Hayes Office dictating morality in Hollywood) came in, was a period where women and women’s stories ruled Tinseltown. Full of moxie, these hard-scrabble femme fatales, black widows and “loose” women tore through the screen to grab their audience by the throat…and heart. And none was as rough and tumble as Stanwyck. She was the definition of “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” and Babs took no prisoners. From her earliest films, she was a force of nature, a broad with a mind of her own and more brains than all the men around her, combined. One of my absolute favorites was “The Furies” (Criterion Collection) about a rich, cattle farming family on a border frontier in the middle of a land-dispute with native Mexicans. But the real fight is between father and daughter Fury, played by Walter Huston and Stanwyck. Wow, this is one of my favorite movies that no one has ever heard of before. And Stanwyck won’t lie down for anyone here, let alone a man. She bests her leading men at everything…including eating the scenery. I just love it! You wouldn’t know it, but by the time The Furies was made (1950), Barbara had made 61 movies. Six-One, people!! Such classics as Baby Face, The Woman In Red, Stella Dallas, The Lady Eve, Meet John Doe, Double Indemnity, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers, Sorry, Wrong Number; the list goes on and on.

I love Barbara Stanwyck because she played women who would eat me alive. Women you couldn’t possibly help but fall in love with, right before they vanquish you. You know the type I mean. And if you don’t then watch some of her movies and you’ll get what I mean. The kind that give as good as they get, never give up without a fight and will stand by their man and family no matter what. Cross them at your own peril. That goes for loving them, too. But if you do manage to find your way into their heart, the intensity of their love and affection for you will make you feel ten feet tall.

In real life, Barbara Stanwyck was considered a lesbian about town in Hollywood and has become somewhat of a gay icon. But any attempt to label her by such categories diminishes in comparison to the animal magnetism Barbara exuded on-screen for all audiences, whether they be male, female, gay or straight. Barbara was infinitely watchable because she was confident and at home in her own lovely skin. Such a master of her craft and profession, her credit role has break-out role after break-out role, even after The Hayes Code made it hard to portray a modern woman taking life on her own terms and bowing down for no one. Barbara was a firebrand both on and off the screen. But she was also extremely loyal and once you became her friend, you stayed one for life.

I could go on and on about how much I admire Ms. Stanwyck, but time better spent would be renting one of her movies – like “The Furies,” and bracing yourself for one hell of a wild ride. You won’t be disappointed. And you may just fall in love with her like I did a long time ago. Just remember never to turn your back on her.

Jean wasn’t the drop dead gorgeous leading lady I usually fell in love with as a kid. She was the funny, best friend type who found romance and love almost as an aside to the antics that took center-stage in her movie vehicles. She was tough and didn’t take any guff and only after seven reels (that’s old time movie talk for when movies where eight 10 minutes reels) did she melt into her leading man’s arms and surrender to his charms. This was the formula that worked and worked well with Jean. And no film brought out her tough-girl turned all gooey-eyed for love than “Only Angels Have Wings” opposite the formidable Cary Grant with an assist from Will Rogers and a very young (almost unrecognizable) Rita Hayworth.

The film was directed by Howard Hawks, a man’s director, who spun the story of a far outpost where the mail is flown by tiny airplanes over gargantuan mountains and cavernous chasms. The fly-by-night (literally) outfit is run by Cary in one of his serious Joker/hard customer roles that he was perfect for early in his career. In walks Jean, sparks fly initially, but then she sees the brutality of how these men live and die and decides to take a walk. But then she comes back, deciding Cary is a good man underneath. The storyline is contrived, but so well constructed and true to character that eccentricities don’t matter. Ya see, Cary had his heart broken and ever since lived by a code of honor and logic. Jean doesn’t get it until Rita walks in, then realizes what she needs to do to win over Cary. But ya see, to win over Cary you have to act like he acts, be tough and unsentimental. That’s what this script was all about from one uncompromising frame to the next – until the very end where Jean wants Cary to tell her to stay and wait for him. But Cary’s character would never do that. Instead he lets a double-headed coin do all the talking for him, and you see him take off in a plane on another dangerous mission while Jean melts on the ground.

I thoroughly enjoyed “Only Angels Have Wings” and fell head over heels for Jean in the process. She made a ton of movies in the 30′s – mostly lightweight comedies with Jimmy Stewart (Mr. Smith Goes To Washington) and Gary Cooper (Meet John Doe) but it’s with Cary that she really lets her hair down and does some of her best mugging for the camera.

Jean was beautiful, funny and accessible. She was one of the boys. The sexy, smart and ball’s out kind of dame that makes guys like me wish we lived back in those days when smart, sassy and moxie where everyday words. I’ll have to settle for watching Jean on screen and dreaming of her smile and infectious laugh that colored everything she said in a high-lilting voice. Jean’s dialogue sparkled along with her eyes, with a personal style that today’s stars would die – or pay exorbitant amounts of money – for. Reese Witherspoon is today’s Jean Arthur, only Jean had better material and equally better Leading Man material. But I’m splitting blonde hairs now. The most important thing is that funny was sexy then as much as it is now. Only smarter. And funnier. And sexier.

I wrote my first novel about my favorite leading lady of all-time, Greta Garbo. It’s inspired by a shocking statement The Swedish Sphinx uttered herself at a cocktail party in the 1960′s. “Hitler was a big fan of mine. He kept writing and invited me to come to Germany. And If the war didn’t start when it did,” she went on, “I would have gone and I would have pulled a gun out of my purse and shot him, because no one would dare search me.” I created the book trailer above with the help of my brother, the extremely-talented Tom Sylvan. You can check out Tom’s other amazing work at his website, www.tomsylvan.com

It’s hard to believe that Whitney is really gone. Her funeral today will be closure for her family and close friends but it will take far longer for her legions of fans to fully comprehend the woman with an angel’s voice has really ascended. That’s because Whitney was as beautiful as she was talented. This was never more apparent than in the film The Bodyguard, in which she starred opposite Kevin Costner.

The role wasn’t a stretch. Whitney is a diva/movie star who is being stalked by a killer on the eve of her appearance at the Oscars for a breakout movie performance. The movie was good, but the soundtrack was amazing! Whitney’s voice was as much a star of the movie as was her luminescent beauty. She was captured at the (in my opinion) height of her physical beauty in this film. Whitney had a wholesome, accessible beauty. Those huge, soulful eyes and that incredible smile that made your heart melt. Then when she sang, she blew our collective minds. That’s how I’ll always remember Whitney and how I believe everyone who ever heard her sing will as well.

Whitney Houston was a wonderful, prideful and completely vulnerable woman. She brought these traits to her character in The Bodyguard. She wasn’t acting so much as projecting her own persona onscreen. Now, watching in the knowledge she is gone is a bittersweet experience for this cinephile. Sad that her life and talent was painfully cut short, but grateful that we have her movies and music to remember her by. I think as time goes by we’ll all begin to appreciate how special she was and forget her very public meltdowns. It’s the least we can do for such a beautiful woman with the voice of an angel.

I can’t help but love Norma Shearer. She was so beautiful, ballsy and, in her day, the reigning queen of Hollywood. That is, if Garbo hadn’t been. Fascinating how someone who would otherwise be number one in the world, exists opposite another who is their match and then some. Just like John McEnroe had Bjorn Borg and Tom Brady has Eli Manning to contend with – Norma had the almighty Garbo raining on her Hollywood parade.

Not that we should feel too bad for Norma. After all, she was married to Irving Thalberg, the wunderkind at MGM who made silver screen art and tinseltown magic while Louis B. Mayer made money. But even though he was married to Norma and gave her all the choice parts, even Irving knew Garbo transcended her time. As accessible Norma was to the masses, Garbo was inaccessible like a true star in the sky. As likeable and glamorous in an earthly way as Norma was portrayed, Garbo was the goddess who touched down on terra firma long enough to steal our hearts – then quickly ascend back into the heavens. But this wasn’t the biggest reason Garbo has endured and been remembered while Norma Shearer has largely been forgotten. No, the biggest reason is how the two stars fates were constructed on-screen.

Norma always got her man. And, like in hugely successful THE WOMEN, she wasn’t above groveling to get him the lecherous ass back. In stark black & white contrast – Garbo was the vamp who found redemption through love, then died for it. She found truelove just before they shot her, like in MATA HARI, or, before she kicked the bucket in CAMILLE. These roles, inherently dramatic and romantic visions, couple with Garbo’s unbelievably gorgeous face – made her the queen of the silver screen without equal. Norma, beautiful and comedic – could never pull off such high drama even if she wanted to.

But this blog is about Norma Shearer. Taken by herself, she was an often wonderful actress opposite stars like Clark Gable in FREE SOUL. She was exuberant and shimmered an inner-glow that I believe she possessed in real life. Most attractive, however, was how she stuck by her man Irving in real life. Thalberg was a very sick man and died young. Norma truly loved him and protected his image long after he passed. Tragically, in her own life after Hollywood, Norma sought out seclusion (not unlike her arch-screen nemesis Garbo) and appeared frightened by the aging process we are all subjected to. It saddens me that we glorify our leading ladies at the height of their beauty, then toss them aside so easily once they hit 30, or younger. Are they not the same women we fell in love with at first sight in their 20′s?

Norma will always be remembered. Maybe not like Garbo. But even Garbo, while most know the name, has been relegated to a bygone era. Lost in the sea of technology, special effects and irrelevant, male-oriented storylines that disgrace our cinema screens today. I’m hoping for a resurgence of interest in golden age Hollywood stars as a result of this year’s silent screen Oscar-contender “The Artist”. The storyline of which was lifted from the very-real life love story between Garbo and John Gilbert. But that’s for another blog. Today I want to celebrate Norma. May she be remembered as a classy dame who knew how to have fun and hold her man.

What can I say about the legendary Myrna, one of the most beautiful, smart, sophisticated and versatile actresses ever to grace the silver screen. Myrna Loy was truly timeless. Her appeal is not restricted to fads or fashion, trends or a time-specific ideal. Myrna would have been famous no matter what era in history she was born into. We’re just lucky she was born late enough to be immortalized in light and sound for all the generations that came after her to share in the fun.

Myrna is best known for The Thin Man series of movies with William Powell and that little dog. The interesting thing about watching Myrna play straight man to Powell is similar to watching a rift in the time/space continuum occur right before your eyes. Myrna is modern, from her acting (understated) to her make-up (again, understated) to the way she effortlessly walks through the film like she is taking a stroll through the park. By contrast, Powell is a contrivance of his time; a drunkard vaudevillian yellowing around the edges as if you discovered a dusty, faded photo of a long lost relative in your attic along with moth balls, an old bag of your grandfathers golf-clubs and wooden tennis racket. Now, before you think I’m hating on Powell (I really enjoy the guy) watch the first Thin Man and you’ll immediately get what a mean. The poor sod just can’t keep up with Myrna no matter how hard he tries. And trying hard is the worst thing you can do opposite a natural.

A lot of the leading ladies in this series rise effortlessly above the material they were cast in simply because everything but the leading lady (and possibly hair and make-up) was run by men. Very few women, if any, were behind the camera and so everything was filtered through a forced-perspective of male wish fulfillment. What was in control by a woman, the actress herself, was her acting ability and her wits in front and behind the camera. Myrna was a force to be reckoned with even before she became famous. She knew her appeal, knew how to look good, sound good and, most importantly, not let the schmuck playing opposite her ever get the upper-hand. But there was something even more special about Myrna Loy. As if she was in on the joke. That all-knowing look only a woman can give the world, letting us know they know we’re full of it – but it’s all right.

I had a friend down in Los Angeles who adored Myrna. He judged all other woman by her impossible standard. Inevitably, the schmuck would always end up leaving wonderful women simply because they were human, fallible and, god forbid – burped, belched or farted in his presence. Any imperfection and he was done with them. The irony is, Myrna was as human as any of these women. She definitely had a great sense of humor (which this guy did not, but thought he did) and would have given my friend the time of day in real life.

Real life. I wonder sometimes if I was ever lucky enough to meet my leading ladies in the flesh, in living color, if they would resemble the image in my mind’s eye after watching their shimmering image on the silver screen. Of course, I’d be in shock initially. But I mean after, when the shock wore off and we got to know each other human to human. That’s where I think Myrna Loy would rise to the very top of the list for me. Funny, direct, accessible – these are the qualities most appealing and desirable in a woman for me. And these are the very same qualities that make Myrna Loy timeless. As bright a star today as 60 years ago when she strolled across a sound stage and became immortalized in light. May that light never fade on my beloved Myrna Loy.

Norma Jean glowed from within. The kind of natural, healthy beauty that resided at the center of the woman who would become Marilyn Monroe. I love MM, but Norma Jean I LOVE. As much as Marilyn is a beautiful, tragic icon, Norma Jean is the wholesome, feminine beauty that doesn’t need make-up, or, any make-up for that matter – to be beautiful. The glow of youth and freckles was all she needed for her fans who knew her when she was an up and coming starlet. Then the legions of Marilyn fans would look back at Norma Jean as a “before” picture of the woman reborn as a Hollywood sex goddess.

Norma Jean never went away. She was always there, but cloaked in the image she created and called Marilyn. The innate innocence and optimism Norma Jean exuded in her early glamor shots can still be discerned in the later, Marilyn photo shoots and films. Her inner essence was the fire that made Marilyn so attractive in the first place. The refinements to her image that solidified her as a sophisticated star: platinum blonde hair, beauty mark, porcelain skin thanks to Max Factor – worn like a mask translucent enough to let Norma’s inner glow shine from within.

Psychologically, Marilyn and Norma Jean co-existed in one, beautiful skin. I wish that Marilyn, the more sophisticated and cunning of the two personae, could have protected Norma more. But then again maybe it was because of this fragile duality we love so much to this day. Maybe neither Marilyn nor Norma Jean were strong enough to withstand the assault of Hollywood and all its ugliness upon them. And that’s the love/hate relationship I have with tinseltown. Without them, I’d never have known and fallen in love with all the leading ladies of my childhood and young adulthood. But in the bargain comes the fact Hollywood tends to destroy everything it touches, especially natural beauty like Norma.

Sometimes I fantasize Norma Jean living out a long, normal life never having gone Hollywood. But then the world would not have Marilyn. Norma Jean wanted to be everything to everyone and paid the ultimate price. Marilyn knew only too late the bargain she had made. I love them both, each in there own way. But if I had to pick, I’d take Norma Jean by the hand and run aw ay while there was still a chance to save her. Run away from the flickering light of the film projector that has made her immortal…as Marilyn.

This is my favorite photograph of the amazingly luminous Carole Lombard. Carole died in a plane crash in January 1942 after appearing in a USO show to sell War bond during World War II. She was a brilliant and beautiful actress with a bawdy sense of humor and loved men almost as much as they loved her.

Only 33 when she died, Carole lived the high-life in Hollywood, was known for hosting some of Hollywood’s legendary parties and attracted some of the most handsome leading men both on and off the screen. Clark Gable would ultimately take the role of Rhett Butler in Gone With The Wind because he needed enough money to divorce his previous wife and marry Carole. They were married in 1939 and by all accounts the love of one another’s lives. That’s saying something even for golden age Hollywood where marriages lasted almost as long as the Santa Ana winds.

I encourage any film lover to check out Carole Lombard’s screwball comedies of the 30’s. She was the highest paid actress (next to Garbo) and made five-times what the U.S. President made in a year. Carole was accompanied by her mother and publicist on the flight that would ultimately take all their lives, including 19 other people (mostly servicemen). She wanted so much to get back to Gable, her husband that she chose to fly rather than take the train. Her colleagues, both afraid of flying, begged her not to go. So Carole flipped a coin – heads by train, tails by plane – and the rest was sad Hollywood history.

I’ll always love Carole for her bawdy sense of humor, the way the light caught her eyes and that lovely blonde hair. She was as smart as they get, and I like to think that, if she lived, she would have been one of the greatest actresses ever to grace the screen. Even though her life was cut short at the top of her game, Carole lives on with a gay spirit and infectious laugh in the movies that capture her essence for all-time. And death can’t even tarnish such a pure, luminous light as Carole Lombard.

I’ve loved Nastassja Kinski since the early 80’s. She had the beauty of Ingrid Bergman mixed with an animal sexuality that gets a teenager boy’s attention. And though I’d seen her in Tess, I didn’t know how deep my love for Nastassja was until I saw Paul Shrader’s underrated and underappreciated Cat People.

I don’t classify Cat People as a guilty pleasure because it is, in fact, a compelling story of a young woman wrestling with her own sexuality and needs. The fact that she turns into a black panther after making love doesn’t detract from Kinski’s ability to infuse her portrayal of character Irene’s pathos with genuine confusion and fear. Then, to evolve into a confident and empowered woman in the end is truly an acting tour de force.

I fear that Nastassja has gotten a bad rap for all the nudity in Cat People and many other roles she portrayed in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s. Of course, I’m not going to complain that this lovely woman has the courage and conviction of her roles to show us her beautiful body. Both my teenage-self back in the 80s and today would like to publicly thank Nastassja for sharing her beautiful curves in addition to her acting chops. I just wish she’d gotten better roles along the way.

Like many actresses, Nastassja was confined to doing a lot of crap, and is primarily remembered today for being in that “CAT” movie. But to take her whole acting career into account, is to see a very talented actress who didn’t mind showing everything. And for that, I’ll always love her.

Greta Garbo was the undisputed Queen of Golden Age Hollywood, or more accurately, Tinseltown from her 1927 silent film debut up to her abrupt departure from the screen in 1941. So much has been written about Garbo that there is very little new light to be shed on the luminous screen creation that was Garbo. The one thing I can add to all the biographies and hagiographies of the iconic actress, however, is why she remains more relevant today than when she was the highest paid woman in the U.S. ($5,000 a week in 1932) and the most recognizable face on the planet. Garbo remains relevant to today’s celebrity-obsessed culture simply because she started it all. She was the first star whose private life became fodder for the tabloids, literally her every move became a matter of record in every newspaper throughout the world.

The list of firsts involving the screen queen goes on and on:

The first time in history a newspaper hired a plane to fly over a celebrity’s house to capture a “candid” photo of the star sun-bathing nude.

The first time a King visited a movie set to pay homage to a movie queen (King Gustav of Sweden to MGM in Hollywood). Of course, Garbo refused to meet him.

The first time a celebrity (since Cleopatra) went by one name.

Garbo. Historians of film still talk about “the Rapture” seeing her face in close-up on screen had on theater audiences, both male and female, throughout the world. Never before had a human visage been captured in light so perfectly and so large – big enough to see every perfect pore of skin (covered in silver make-up made for her by Max Factor himself – so she would literally shine), every eyelash (all natural); ever internal thought conveyed through voluminous eyes.

Garbo, aka “The Face” was said to be the most beautiful woman who ever lived. But more than that, Garbo brought about modern screen acting, making her counterparts Norma Shearer and Marion Davies by comparison, appear to be pantomiming. Screen legend Bette Davis was so obsessed with Garbo’s acting that she stole onto a movie set to see Garbo in action. She came away nonplussed. Later, she saw the footage of that days shooting and was blown away by what the camera saw. Davis said Garbo’s affect on the artificial eye was nothing less than “witchcraft.”

All Garbo’s directors and fellow actors agreed. Seeing Garbo act with the naked eye seemed like nothing special. But then, when the film emulsion was processed and negative became positive – Garbo the screen goddess in all her glory appeared as if by alchemy. Nothing less than magic. Her ability to convey emotion without uttering a word, even moving, seemed supernatural. So much so that the occultists of the day considered Garbo to be more than mortal. She became known in the press as, “The Immortal One.”
Of course, Greta Garbo was not immortal. After her final film, “Two Faced Woman” flopped in 1941, she bid the world goodbye and moved into an apartment in Manhattan, New York and aged quietly, reclusively, until her death in 1990. Yet up until virtually her dying day, Garbo was stalked relentlessly by paparazzi while other glamorous movie stars of her era like Hedy Lamarr, Rita Hayworth and poor Norma Shearer were forgotten once their beauty and fame faded from view.

Why? The easy answer is that Garbo’s steadfast rejection of the modern day cult-of-personality she helped to foment fueled our desire to capture her image evermore in the spotlight. As if, simply by virtue of the fact a famous person wanted to be left alone – we couldn’t allow it in our new age of media obsessed, fame monsters and attention whores. But I have a sneaking feeling there was more to it than that. My sense is that Garbo was more than met the eye, even when she became a shriveled, wrinkled, white-haired old lady. I think Bette Davis was onto something when she gazed at Garbo with those big, Betty Davis blue eyes of hers. I think Garbo was a witch. The most beautiful witch who ever lived, and whose cinematic spell will continue to be cast on generation upon generation of movie lovers – for as long as there is light.