Clash By Night
For all the respect and power she commanded in Hollywood, Barbara Stanwyck had a reputation for being very generous and considerate to the young actors who worked with her. After 65 films and 25 years in motion pictures, she certainly had her patience and generosity tested during the making of
Clash By Night (1952) by a co-star whose on-set difficulties have become legend. Although still a young actress and not the top star she was destined to be, Marilyn Monroe was already sorely testing the patience of directors, co-stars, and crew. Yet by all accounts, Stanwyck never lost her temper with the younger woman during the making of
Clash By Night or spoke harshly of her in the years to come.
In Fritz Lang's intense study of adultery and betrayal in a northern California fishing village (a change from the original New York location of Clifford Odets' play), Stanwyck plays Mae Doyle, a woman disillusioned with life and men who returns to her home town and marries a simple, decent fisherman - Jerry D'Amato - for security. But the bitter, restless woman soon finds herself falling for Earl, the cynical but far more sexually attractive projectionist at the local movie theater, exactly the kind of man she was trying to get away from. Although she has had Jerry's baby, Mae begins an affair with Earl that almost ends in tragedy.
Monroe played the relatively small part of Peggy, the high-spirited cannery worker who is dating Mae's brother. Playing one of her first important roles, Monroe was nervous to the point of vomiting before every scene and breaking out in red blotches on her hands and face. She was often late, forgetful, and uncommunicative. Lang, not one to suffer actor idiosyncrasies lightly, was at his wits' end with the young actress, but Stanwyck was a model of patience. The director recounted a scene in which Stanwyck had to hang clothes on a line while talking to Monroe, who repeatedly blew her lines. The seasoned professional had to remove the clothes from the line and start over to accommodate the newcomer, but Lang said, "Not once did she have a bad word for Marilyn. She understood her perfectly."
Stanwyck admitted years later that Monroe "drove Bob Ryan, Paul Douglas, and myself out of our minds." She told the
Toronto Telegram in 1965 she found Monroe "awkward. She couldn't get out of her own way. She wasn't disciplined, and she was often late, but she didn't do it viciously, and there was a sort of magic about her which we all recognized at once. Her phobias, or whatever they were, came later; she seemed just a carefree kid, and she owned the world." Monroe ended up turning in a performance that was enthusiastically received by critics, strengthening the resolve of her studio, 20th Century Fox, to develop her into a major star.
Not that Stanwyck didn't have her on-set difficulties, too, although the difference in the way she and Monroe handled them illustrates why Stanwyck is still considered one of the best-liked, most professional actresses ever to set foot before a camera. One day during the shooting of
Clash By Night, she complained to Lang that a scene they were working on was very badly written and that she could never play it. Lang disagreed. "Barbara, may I speak very frankly and openly with you," he later recalled saying. "I think the scene reminds you of a rather recent event in your private life, and that is why you think it is badly written and you cannot play it." Lang said Stanwyck looked at him for a second and then said slowly, "You son of a bitch." The director didn't repeat what the private event was, although around this time, Stanwyck was getting a divorce from her husband of 12 years, actor Robert Taylor, who had reportedly fallen for another woman. Nevertheless, Lang said she turned on her heels and played the scene "so wonderfully that we had to shoot it only once." Although he said he never worked with any artist in the U.S. or abroad more cooperative than Barbara Stanwyck, this was the only picture the two made together.
Director: Fritz Lang
Producers: Jerry Wald, Norman Krasna, Harriet Parsons
Screenplay: Alfred Hayes, based on the play by Clifford Odets
Cinematography: Nicholas Musuraca
Editing: George Amy
Art Direction: Carroll Clark, Albert S. D'Agostino
Original Music: Roy Webb
Cast: Barbara Stanwyck (Mae Doyle), Paul Douglas (Jerry D'Amato), Robert Ryan (Earl Pfeiffer), Marilyn Monroe (Peggy), Keith Andes (Joe Doyle), J. Carrol Naish (Uncle Vince).
BW-105m. Closed captioning. Descriptive video.
by Rob Nixon
Keith Andes (1920-2005)
Keith Andes, the tall, raw-boned actor who had a notable career in film, television and stage, died on November 11 at his home in Canyon Country, California.
He was 85. His death was ruled a suicide by the Los Angeles County coroner's office. He had been suffering for years with bladder cancer.
Born John Charles Andes on July 12, 1920, in Ocean City, New Jersey, Keith been began performing in his teens for school productions and for local radio stations in his hometown. After he graduated with a B.A. in education from Temple University in 1943, he pursued a stage career in earnest, and in 1947 scored a triumph in the Broadway musical
The Chocolate Soldier, where he won a Theatre World Award for his performance. That same year, he made his film debut as one of Loretta Young's brothers in
The Farmer's Daughter (1947). Although his film career never quite took off, one could certainly envy him for playing opposite two of the hottest blonde bombshells of their generation: first with Marilyn Monroe
Clash by Night (1952); and then Jayne Mansfield in
The Girl Most Likely (1957).
If Andes lacked the star power to be a consistent Hollywood lead, he certainly had no problems with television. Here, his stalwart presence and commanding baritone made him more than servicable for television through three decades: (
Goodyear Theatre,
Playhouse 90,
The Ford Television Theatre); '60s: (
Perry Mason,
The Rifleman,
Star Trek,
The Outer Limits,
Glynis); and '70s (
Cannon,
The Streets of San Francisco).
Andes made his last notable screen appearance in the Al Pacino vehicle
And Justice For All (1979), before falling into semi-retirement and doing occassional voice work. He is survived by two sons, Mark, Matt; and three grandchildren.
by Michael T. Toole