Separated At Death

I hope you have been enjoying my Top 25 Favorite Films every Sunday. When I prefaced the unspooling of my list with some cute little factoids a while back, I did it so hastily that I made a few mistakes. I had written that there was only about four or five people who appeared in more than one movie on my list. As I write up each film, I have uncovered more. For instance, Thelma Ritter also shows up twice. As I mentioned with #24, she was a major player in "Pillow Talk." But, she also pops up in a film that is very high up in my rankings.

And then I also neglected to mention Mary Wickes. She was a supporting character in "White Christmas," my favorite film coming in at #23. But, she also is prominent in one of my favorite all-time musicals, "The Music Man," which came in much, much higher.

But, that's not the crux of this post. Thinking about Mary Wickes, I was reminded about a rather bizarre situation that I got to watch unfold about two years ago. Only in Hollywood...

I've written in the past of the wonderful Alex Film Society in Glendale. About five times a year, they take over the glorious Alex film palace and show a classic old movie replete with cartoons, newsreels, and anything else that promotes the memory of moviegoing in days gone by. What makes these evenings even more special is the attendance by some of those folks who might have been involved in the production of the film. Usually, most of the principals have since gone off to the Forest Lawn soundstage. But, every once in a while, they turn up a gem who is subsequently interviewed by a film historian before the picture starts.

So, two summers ago, the Alex film de noir is "The Music Man." There is no way I am missing this. As we wait outside the theater as the overflow Saturday night crowd gathers, a car pulls up and out pops Jane Withers. You know her. She was this child actress who was always pulling Shirley Temple's hair back in the 30s. The big claim to her fame came later when she spent a dozen or so years dumping Comet on dirty sinks as Josephine the plumber. She looks pretty much like the picture to the right, so I am guessing that she has a regular weekly visit to the beauty parlor. (She also shows up in "Giant," another film on my list.) 

Of course, my second thought was a little more pointed as I asked my friends.

"What the hell is she doing here?"

Nevertheless, we take our seats in the theater and Miss Jane has a roped off seat about four rows away. The appointed film historian for the evening appears on stage and starts yakking up some "Music Man" factoids. Apparently, Shirley Jones was supposed to be a surprise guest, but she has been detained elsewhere...probably because husband Marty Ingels couldn't find his socks. 

But, the historian adds, there was somebody present who also can talk about the film's production.

"Everybody say hello to Jane Withers."

Me: "Huh????"

Jane stands and waves to wild applause from the rafters. Then, she starts to address the crowd. She starts talking about how much fun "we" had making the movie.

Me: "Huh????!!!!"

Jane goes on to mention how she calls Shirley all the time and they have so many memories of such a wonderful production.

Me: "HUH??????!!!!"

I've seen "The Music Man" over a dozen times in my life. JANE WITHERS IS NOT IN THIS MOVIE.

Nevertheless, Jane prattles on and on. She finally stops just short of telling how she would massage Robert Preston's bunions every morning.

Meanwhile, aisles away, my mind is racing. How could this film historian allow this to happen? Did he simply not want to pull her plumber overalls down in public? Because, clearly, she grabbed a fumble and ran it like Gale Sayers.

The film starts and I suddenly realize what happened as soon as the River City townswomen show up for their first number. Jane Withers has been confused with Mary Wickes! The audience even claps when Mary Wickes appears on screen. 

They are acknowledging her presence in the audience. Except she's been dead since 1995. I know this for a fact because I have friends who knew her well.

For some reason I cannot explain, I was very angry the whole night. Did the film historian make a mistake that Jane Withers did not want to correct? Or was it vice versa? Or maybe Jane inhaled so much scouring powder in her life that she has been rendered mentally incompetent? She certainly did nothing to clarify the huge gaff. Indeed, she basked in the glory as if it was the opening night of a Jane Withers film festival.

And, even though, I didn't know her. I felt genuinely bad for Mary Wickes. I know she was a terrific character actress. I have been told she was a magnificent lady to know.

I now use Ajax exclusively.

Dinner last night: Crispy Spicy Beef at the Cheesecake Factory.