Raymond Stanley

INTRODUCTION

Raymond Stanley (1921–2008)

The followingpages contain excerpts from—and sometimes the bulk of—interviews, meetings and occasional exchanges at press receptions, with a wide spectrum of performers over the past 30 years or so. From those encounters I have tried to retain, for this book, information and anecdotes that still are of interest today, or shed light upon the interviewee.

It always has been my policy to ask questions which I personally wanted to know the answers of, and to avoid questions which someone obviously has been asked countless times before. I believe that the major part of this book contains facts new to most readers. In some cases I have detailed briefly my prior interests and knowledge of the interviewee.

Most of the encounters have taken place in Australia where I have been fortunate to obtain the co-operation of all concerned.

On a personal note: I arrived in Australia towards the end of 1958 having arranged with the editor of England’s leading theatrical periodical, the trade weekly The Stage (founded in 1880!), to supply any appropriate news, reviews and articles. Some six months later I undertook similar duties for the American Variety, usually referred to as ‘the Bible of show business’.

This proved to be a double ‘Open Sesame’. It meant more to people performing Down Under to be reported upon in these two international weeklies than in the local press. I believe this still applies, although certain local publicists disagree with me. Therefore, I had no difficulty in obtaining the interviews, and in some cases was sought out by those concerned.

I have tried never to interview anyone I did not want to, although in a few cases I was ‘persuaded’ to, and finally won over. Seldom have I interviewed anyone without knowing a great deal about their career, frequently surprising them with my knowledge.

I remained with Variety until 1977, when I switched to Screen International, which proved an even better deal as it provided the opportunity to visit a number of film sets. Then in 1985 I changed to The Business of Film which, although financially a better prospect, did not bring me in touch with the people I should like to have contacted. Along the way I have written for numerous other periodicals as well, both in Australia and other countries. I still am writing for The Stage.

During a six months’ visit back in England in 1961 I purchased a large reel-to-reel tape recorder: useful for recording purposes rather than note-taking or relying upon one’s memory. But oh, it was such a nuisance to carry around and have to plug in to power points at the various venues! Today I am surprised at how tolerant everyone was with it.

Since then I have utilized a small cassette recorder or a pocket microcassette-corder. Unfortunately there have been occasions with these have failed to work satisfactorily, when batteries have run down, and once again I have had to rely upon my memory.

Meeting these people has highlighted the fact that, despite all the glamour and fame, basically – when one gets down to talking ‘man to man’ – they are just like anyone else. The big surprise always is how much shorter a lot appear away from the screen: Bette Davis and Marlene Dietrich to give but two examples.

There really have been only three occasions on which I was unable to obtain the interviews I wanted. The first was when Eartha Kitt made her first Australian tour. I attended the press reception for her, a personal interview was more or less lined up, then the news broke of her separation from her husband and she refused all further interviews. However, I did meet her backstage on a subsequent tour.

Then there was Judy Garland. It had all been arranged, as I relate in this book, but she was a very sick lady and there were no interviews with her in Melbourne.

The third person was Claudette Colbert, always one of my favourite film stars, and who came to Melbourne with Rex Harrison to star in Aren’t We All?. There was a press reception for Harrison, but not for her. There had been articles on her in the Press prior to her arrival in Australia, written in London or New York. As far as I know there was one radio interview, and that was all. Apparently she did not think it necessary to do any publicity; the play perhaps would have done better at the box office had she not been so ‘press shy’.

Today I do regret that I did not do in-depth interviews with some people I met briefly at press receptions, actors such as Ralph Richardson and Michael Redgrave. I could easily have arranged it. Why didn’t I, I ask myself now. It probably was because at those particular times I could see no immediate venues for placing pieces on them.

It is my earnest wish that all readers will get something out of this book. It is written for those who enjoy reading about show business (with an occasional piece of trivia thrown in!), and to provide clues for future biographers.

Judith Anderson, 1954. Photographer unknown.

New York Public Library, New York

Judith Anderson as Medea, New York, 1949. Photo by Avedon.

New York Public Library, New York

JUDITH ANDERSON

At the 1966 Adelaide Festival of the Arts Dame Judith Anderson was seen in four performances of a program that consisted of excerpts from Macbeth and Medea. Reviews following the first performance were not the best for Dame Judith and her supporting cast, and I went along on the second night with sinking heart.

The first half of the program, lasting about half an hour, was devoted to all the major Lady Macbeth scenes. Looking impressive in simple but dignified royal blue robes, the actress was most subdued a great part of the time, but never failed to bring out the beauty of the verse, and gave new meanings to a number of lines.

As Medea, in a condensed version o the Robinson Jeffers’ adaptation, which occupied about an hour and a quarter of the second half, with one brief interval, Dame Judith looked beautiful in a loose yellow gown and again did not overdo the ranting. She managed almost at time to inject humour into the situations and only once or twice get the impression of being a little stale in the part.

After the poor reviews I was pleasantly surprised and quite enthusiastic, and could recall few performances I had seen in Australia to equal this, and felt impelled to go backstage, introduce myself and congratulate the Dame.

I had expected someone tall and regal and, on entering her dressing room, was amazed to be confronted by a tiny old lady with a black shawl around her shoulders, so different to the onstage illusion that had been created.

She listened almost impatiently to my words of praise and cut me short.

‘What did you think of my leading man?’ she asked.

‘I thought he was very, very good,’ I truthfully said.

‘Then will you do me a favour?’ she asked. ‘Go to his dressing room and tell him so. The reviews have been so unkind to him, so unjustified.’

Incidentally, Dame Judith had taken no fee for her performances, but donated her services to the Festival.

A few days later I saw her again – in a huge auditorium – alongside an Australian actor, enthusiastically reading English translations of Yevgeny Yevtushenko’s poems when the Russian poet gave three public recitals of his work.

Coral Browne. Photo by Friedman-Abeles.

New York Public Library, New York

Coral Browne as Lady Macbeth in Macbeth, Old Vic, London, 1955. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

CORAL BROWNE

Legendary are the tales I have heard told concerning Australian-born actress Coral Browne, some of which are absolutely true, as I was told them first hand by a friend who was in the company during the time she played at the Old Vic.

Several of these anecdotes, slightly distorted, have already seen the light of print. One, which, to my knowledge, has not is of when she temporarily left the Old Vic to play Vera Charles opposite Rosalind Russell in the film version of Auntie Mame.

From Hollywood she sent a postcard to members of the Old Vic Company saying: ‘Here in Hollywood you can get any kind of sex you want—with man, woman, child or dog—at a price!’. At the bottom of the card she wrote: ‘P.S. I’m broke!’

Also I was told about her generosity and consideration. She heard about the death of the father of one young member of the company who, straight from drama school, for the moment was playing only minor roles.

Realising how hard it was for him to exist on £7 a week, and with a widowed mother and younger brother still at school, in the nicest way, so as not to offend the proud boy, she persuaded him to accept some of her husband’s cast off clothes.

I had always enjoyed and greatly admired her stage performances, ranging from Maggie Cutler in The Man Who Came to Dinner, the title role in The Last of Mrs. Cheyney and Lady Frederick, her classical roles at the Old Vic and many more. It had always been a disappointment she had not been more active in films.

In 1961, with a brief to interview Australians in London for an Australian theatre monthly, Coral Browne would be high on the list.

Coral Browne as Lady Frederick Berolles in Lady Frederick, Savoy Theatre, London, 1946. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Coral Browne as Marie Paule in Bonne Soupe, Comedy Theatre, London, 1961. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Accordingly, I wrote her, requesting an interview, and received a telephone call from her agent’s office agreeing and setting up the time of 5 p.m. one afternoon at the Comedy Theatre, where she apparently was rehearsing in the play Bonne Soupe.

‘On no account must you be a minute late,’ I was warned and then, with uncontrolled curiosity in the voice came the query: ‘Have you ever interviewed Miss Browne before?'

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Then the best of British luck to you!’

That particular afternoon was being spent with Peter Cotes and his wife Joan Miller, at their then home at Crystal Palace. Naturally, I was anxious to leave and be on time, and seeing how I felt, Cotes said he would drive me there. But the time was speeding along and Cotes showed no signs of hurrying and I began to panic, knowing I should he late. By the time we left even Cotes realised we should not make it on time.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘Joannie will ring the stage door and say you’ll be a little late.’

A little late! We seemed to strike every traffic jam possible and it was exactly 5.30 p.m. when, hot and sweaty, I alighted from Cotes’ car at the Comedy stage door. Would Coral Browne still be waiting—and what would her mood be like?

I was shown into an empty room and, before I had an opportunity to sit down, Browne herself entered, and, just as I was about to make my apologies she burbled: ‘You poor man—I am so sorry to keep you waiting like this. We’ve only just finished the rehearsal.’ I made no comment, but began the interview.

It was not the greatest of interviews. There was nothing devastating in the way of wit, which I had hoped for, and naturally the bulk of it was aimed at Australian readers. Since leaving the country in 1934 she had only returned once, for her grandmother’s funeral. It had always been her intention to go back one day for a theatre engagement, but something always occurred to prevent it.

Coral Browne as Laura Foster in Simon and Laura, 1954. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Coral Browne as Katherine Dougherty in The Pleasure of His Company, Haymarket Theatre, London, 1959. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

‘All the plays I’d like to do there are being done by someone else, just as I’m making my plans. For instance, there was Simon and Laura, in which I appeared in the West End. Googie Withers and John McCallum came and saw me in it, and the next thing I knew they had arrange to tour it Down Under!

‘Cyril Ritchard wanted me to co-star with him in The Pleasure of His Company, in which I was appearing in the West End. Then I took over in the American production in Chicago and …

‘About three years ago I was going to tour Australia with the Old Vic Company, playing Cleopatra to Harry Andrews’ Antony, as well as other roles. Then Mr. Andrews had a film commitment he couldn’t get out of, so that also failed to mature.’

She assured me she did intent to appear on the Australian stage again.

‘It isn’t easy though, with a husband and a home to look after. Of course it isn’t like the old days when there were long sea voyages that took up so much of the time. One wonders how people like Marie Tempest managed it—so much travelling time without pay.’

Browne obviously was very proud of being an Australian and still retained her Australian passport.

‘Wherever you look here in England in the arts you are sure to find Australians at the top: Joan Sutherland, Sidney Nolan, Loudon Sainthill, Ray Lawler. Who wouldn’t be proud to be Australian? And I’m proud I’ve still got some of my Australian accent left!’

We discussed the then current West End theatre, and she admitted it was losing its appeal and certainly not what it had been. About the ‘kitchen sink’ drama she was most dogmatic.

‘There isn’t any beauty in it. When the theatre can offer so much beauty, visually and vocally, who wants to go and see an angry young man twiddling his toes through the holes in his socks? I saw Roots, after a really wonderful lunch, but the smell of liver cooking in the theatre made me want to vomit by the end of the first act!’

Of playwrights of that time, she felt Arnold Wesker could write good plays and admitted she had a great admiration for Harold Pinter.

How did she like acting on television?

‘It’s terrifying, absolutely terrifying. To be judged by one’s first performance in a play is simply awful. When opening in the West End, the audiences’ reactions are vital. And one doesn’t get this with television.

‘Another thing, all the plays one would like to do on television appear to have been done. But I’d certainly appear in a Pinter play on TV if he wrote one for me.’

Films did not fill her with the same dismay.

‘Making films seem easier as one gets older,’ she observed.

Then she made the comment that playwrights did not seem to be writing plays for the stars.

‘There’s Edith Evans, for instance—the greatest actress in the English-speaking world—every playwright ought to be writing plays furiously for her. Yet since Fry’s The Dark Is Light Enough, no one has bothered to write her a play.’

She confessed that Lady Macbeth was her favourite Shakespeare role.

‘I always get to the theatre hours before when playing in Macbeth, to sink myself in the role, something I’ve never done with any other part.’

As with all the other people I interviewed in London, I sent Coral Browne a copy of the article when it was published. She was the only one to write me a letter of thanks. In it she said: ‘I liked the interview very much and gave it to Harold Pinter!’

Coral Browne as Albertine Prine in Toys in the Attic, 1960. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Coral Browne as the Countess in The Rehearsal, Theatre Royal, Brighton, 1963. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

In the late 1970s Geoff Burrowes (who later produced The Man From Snowy River films) told me he was hoping to being out Browne and her husband, Vincent Price, to co-star in a vampire film to be called Romance in the Jugular Vein, but this never happened.

In 1980 Price came to Australia to perform on stage his one-man Oscar Wilde show, and was accompanied by Coral Browne. There seemed to be little publicity about her return to her homeland. One would have expected all sorts of offers to have been made to her, but this did not happen.

Next time... John Carradine

‘Now, what do I know about John Carradine?¹ What questions can I ask him?’

I was experiencing a temporary memory blackout. To my shame, I couldn’t name a single John Carradine movie, yet I must have seen him dozens of times, mainly as villains, in horror films and leads in numerous B pictures. He was tall, thin and gaunt, and with saturnine features. That much I could recall. And I was on my way to interview him!

It was February 1981, and it had all happened so rapidly. The New Zealand Film Commission had invited me to New Zealand for eight days, all expenses paid, to write about their burgeoning film industry, and visit sets of three films which simultaneously were before cameras around the country. A sudden pilots’ disruption had aborted plans, then unexpectedly a seat on a plane was available and, days behind schedule, I was on the first leg of the trip, in Auckland.

There I was due to visit the set of a horror film called The Scarecrow.² However, shooting had taken place all throughout the previous night and the production office informed me there was no shooting that day. Producer, director, cast and crew currently were getting much needed sleep. I would meet the producer later in the day, but meantime an interview had been set up for me with the picture’s imported star—John Carradine.

Normally I would have turned this down, aware it had no hope of being published. All that was needed was a few words with the Hollywood star, sandwiched somewhere into an article on the film’s production. Now there was no choice. A charade of doing an interview had to be maintained. An interview for which I was in no way prepared; until that moment I had no idea Carradine was in Auckland!

The Scarecrow apparently was to be a ‘funny, scary and moving picture.’ It had been adapted from a novel by Ronald Hugh Morrieson, published in 1963, and was set in a small town in the early fifties. Carradine was playing Hubert Salter, a magician and murderer, hypnotist and necrophiliac, who insinuates himself into the heart of the town somewhere between the pub and the funeral parlour.

‘Salter’s a very difficult role,’ the producer later told me. ‘We know all the obvious people in New Zealand and auditioned them. I made a list of about six American and English actors who could play the role. I approached them all, but each was either far too expensive or else unavailable. One of them was John Carradine.’

Eventually the film was cast with a local actor who seemed perfect for the part. Then a call came from Carradine’s agent, saying he was available after all—did they want him? The producer checked with the investors.

‘They were anxious to get Carradine purely and simply for the commercial possibilities, which made it very embarrassing for us back here. So we cast Carradine and he’s turned out splendidly.’

John Carradine as Othello, 1943

J. Willis Sayre Collection of Theatrical Photographs, Washington University Libraries

John Carradine as Nickles in Elia Kazan’s touring production of J.B., 1960–61. Photo by Friedman-Abeles.

New York Public Library, New York

I looked out of the window of the taxi taking me to the Auckland suburb where Carradine was staying in a flat. It was a reasonably warm summer’s day.

With a small tape recorder clutched tightly in one hand, I knocked on the door of the flat. After what seemed a lengthy period, I heard some shuffling and the door slowly opened and a tall, frail-looking, very aged man stood in the doorway. It was John Carradine. Although he was 75 at the time, he looked even older.

He was expecting me and ushered me into the main room of a very dark, dingy, and untidy flat. He introduced me to his wife, who could have been anywhere between fifty and seventy. Plump and not looking at all well, she was seated in front of a television set with a blanket covering the lower portion of her body, viewing a Western. All throughout the interview (except for a brief break when she made some coffee), Mrs. Carradine³ watched that Western, so that the noise of the dialogue, horses and gunfire sometimes made it difficult to hear what her husband was saying.

Carradine too sat with a blanket around his legs. Both seemed to be suffering from the cold (although it was warm outside) and presented rather a depressing sight.

He spoke with long pauses and a distinct drawl but seemed to have total recall. Probably he was disliking the thought of being interviewed as much as I was of interviewing him; but circumstances had forced us into this peculiar situation.

Not having a clue what to ask, I began with very conventional questions, to which he politely responded, but without any enthusiasm. They were the questions he must have been asked scores of times. But he was doing the job required of him.

John Carradine (right) as DeLacy, a blind hermit, with Keith Jochim as The Creature in Frankenstein, 1980. Photo by Martha Swope.

New York Public Library, New York

David Dukes as Victor Frankenstein and Julian Glover as Henry Clerval in Frankenstein, 1980. Photo by Martha Swope.

New York Public Library, New York

He told me that he had been able to come to New Zealand because of the abrupt folding of Frankenstein, the play he had opened in on Broadway.⁴

‘I had a year’s contract and thought it would run for a year, but the critics didn’t like it. I thought it was good. It was a very expensive production. Elaborate and magnificent, wasn’t it honey?’ He referred to his wife who merely nodded her head and continued staring at the television set in front of her.

‘It was a magnificent production. We had about six weeks of previews and it just lasted one night. The preview audience loved it. Almost immediately after it I was offered this film.’

What had attracted him to the part?

‘A job! It’s a good role. A nasty guy. I’m a degenerate scoundrel.’

Wasn’t coming to New Zealand, working with people he knew nothing about, a bit of a risk?

‘I don’t care who I work for so long as they pay me. That’s the important thing. I work for a living. If I know a man’s dishonest, I don’t work for him.’

Poster for John Ford’s film The Grapes of Wrath, 1940

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John Carradine and Louise Platt (centre) in a scene from the film Stagecoach, 1939

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What were his favourite film roles? What had given him the greatest satisfaction?

‘Oh, The Grapes of Wrath⁵ … The unfrocked preacher Casey in The Grapes of Wrath, Captains Courageous⁶ and—among the dozen greatest pictures ever made—Stagecoach⁷ … The gambler in Stagecoach.’

‘When you were making those movies, had you any idea of the impact they would make?’

‘I knew they were bigger pictures. In the first place they were John Ford⁸ pictures, and he never missed. Ford only made one flop. It was called a flop when it was first released, but now it’s not considered so. That was Mary of Scotland,⁹ which I was in. You knew any picture of Ford’s would be of quality, and I did eight pictures for Ford.’

‘Was he your favourite director?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘What other directors?’

‘I liked to work with so many of them. Richard Boleslawski,¹⁰ I liked very much; he was a very fine director, but unfortunately he died early. He directed me in The Garden of Allah¹¹ and Les Misérables.¹² He also directed Clive of India¹³—the first time I worked for him—with Ronald Colman.¹⁴ He was a great gentleman and a fine director.

‘Then I did a number of pictures with Cecil de Mille: The Sign of the Crossand his last film, The Ten Commandments,¹⁵and several others in between. I did a sculpture—a bust of him … He gave me permission to do a bust of him, which I did in 1931. We were good friends.’

‘Were there any films you made which you think should have been rated greater that they have been?’

‘Oh yes, I think The Grapes of Wrathshould have got an Oscar—at least a nomination.

‘Yes, but that has since become a cult film. Are there any others?’

‘Captains Courageous … Winterset—which introduced Burgess Meredith¹⁶ to the screen—was a great picture but didn’t seize the popular imagination.’

‘What about the actors you worked with? Who did you enjoy working with most?’

‘I enjoy working with actors. I of course did several pictures with Spencer Tracy,¹⁷ who was a hell of an actor. He was a fine actor. I don’t think he was the best actor in the world. No. But he was a damn good actor; he was very convincing. He had a quality—which the critics noticed—called sincerity. He had a tremendous sincerity. That was something professional in Hollywood. He was a hell of a nice guy.’

‘What about actresses? Which did you admire?’

‘Oh, I got along with all of them. I got along very well with Hepburn,¹⁸ and we’ve been good friends over the years.’

David Carradine in Kung Fu, 1973

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Poster for The Long Riders with the Carradine brothers, Robert, David and Keith, 1980

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I asked him about his sons, three of whom had been in films: David, Keith and Robert.¹⁹

‘I’m very proud of them. They’re doing very well, and they’re good actors. They all worked on the stage with me, under my direction. That’s how they learned their business.’

Now Carradine seemed to be taking an interest in the interview. I asked if he had tried to discourage them.

‘No. I said, “look, the theatre’s a literary profession, so go to college and take an Arts course and major in English literature, because that’s what you’re going to deal with all your life.” And they did very much as I suggested, except they didn’t stay at college. David did, he went all the way through.

‘Keith got started in college, in a production there of The Lion in Winter²⁰—playing the King—and that did it for him, he got bit. So, he quit. Came back to the West Coast and ran into David, and David was about to try out for a part in the musical Hair,²¹ and he invited Keith to go along with him for his audition. When they got there the people took one look and said: “We don’t want you, we want your kid brother.” They hired Keith on the spot and took him to New York. He was in Hair for a year; that got him started in a big way. David never was in Hair; he went on to other things.’

‘Are you critical of their performances? Do they come to you for advice?’

‘No, they don’t. In fact, I’ve given them advice just once. I saw David in a production of Romeo and Juliet, and I went backstage afterwards because I knew he was aware I was out front. I had to go back to him. He was 19 at the time, playing Tybalt. I thought he was pretty good.

‘He said: “Well?” “You smile a good deal,” I said. “What’s wrong in that?” he asked. I said: “Nothing, except that Tybalt is not a pleasant man. If you smile it can’t be a pleasant smile, and if you want to know how to achieve that, well smile only with your eyes. Let your eyes smile and it becomes menacing.” So, he tried it and wrote me later and said it worked like a charm. That’s the only time I ever advised them.

‘Of course, they worked under my direction. I’d directed Keith and Robert in Tobacco Road²² with me, and I directed David in Hamlet.²³ I was playing Hamlet and was directing the production and he played Laertes. I’d seen him play it with somebody else and he wasn’t very good. I said: “Come and play it with me and I’ll show you how to play Laertes.” I did and he did, and it worked out. He was the best Laertes I ever had. Then David had his series, Kung Fu,²⁴ and we all worked in that. We haven’t worked together as much as we’d like to.

‘Three of the boys were together in The Long Riders.²⁵ They had two scripts for that, one of which included the boys’ stepfather, but they didn’t do that script, and they had wanted me for it. Too bad because the boys were expecting me to be along with them in that. But it didn’t work out that way.’

Publicity still for Laurence Olivier’s 1948 film of Hamlet

Elisabeth Kumm collection

John Gielgud performing Ages of Man in New York, 1958. Photo by Friedman-Abeles.

New York Public Library, New York

‘You obviously have a great love of Shakespeare.’

‘Oh yes, that’s why I became an actor.’

‘Are there any roles you wish you had played?’

‘I’ve not played Lear, and I wanted to play Lear. I’d still like to—if I can get away with it. Some people have said it’s an impossible role, that it’s impossible to play Lear. I don’t agree because I’ve seen it well played. I’ve seen Morris Carnovsky²⁶ do it very well.’

‘Have you seen any of the English actors do it? Gielgud²⁷ for instance?’

‘The only time I saw Gielgud was when he did his Shakespeare recital.²⁸ I didn’t think much of it. I’ve done the same things myself and I thought I did a better job with it.²⁹ “The Seven Ages of Man”,³⁰ which he did, he did nothing with it at all. He gave it no expression, it requires a certain amount of anemometry [sic], which he didn’t do. He makes nothing of it at all. It’s a tour de force for an actor, that one speech, and he did nothing with it.’

‘How did your recital differ?’

‘Well, I made something of it. He just read the words. That’s the only thing I’ve seen him do. I haven’t seen him play Hamlet. I saw Olivier’s³¹ film Hamlet. I saw Burton do it on Broadway without any scenery³²—and half a costume and that sort of thing, and I didn’t think much of that. They put out the news in their publicity that this was done as a sort of semi-dress rehearsal. That was no excuse for it: having not much scenery and not much in the way of costumes. If you’re going to do Hamlet, then do Hamlet!’

‘What did you think of Olivier’s film of Hamlet?’³³

‘I didn’t think very much of it. I knew him then and he was very young. I couldn’t fault him for what he did, I could only fault the direction. For instance, with the line “The play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the King,” he did a strange thing. On the line before that he took a run up the corridor, pirouetted, elevated himself on his toes and said “The play's the thing …” I couldn’t understand why he’d do that.’

‘But he was his own director on that!’

‘I guess he was. I guess he was. But I haven’t seen him do it on the stage.’

‘What about Maurice Evans?³⁴ How do you rate his performances in Shakespeare?’

‘I didn’t like him at all. He sang it—he sang it all. Chanted it, and that sort of Shakespeare went out fifty years ago.’

Poster for the Italian-language release of Orson Welles’ film of Macbeth

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Paul Robeson as Macbeth, 1943

New York Public Library, New York

‘Orson Welles?’

‘Orson Welles was extraordinary. He didn’t stay with it very long. I didn’t see his Lear, which he played briefly on Broadway. But I saw his Macbeth. I saw it on the stage and then saw the picture. It was unbelievably bad. He had some idea it rained all the time in Scotland. Whenever you saw Macbeth, he was standing in a puddle of water, being drenched with water pouring down.³⁵

‘Then they tried to use something resembling a Scottish burr. It wasn’t very good and finally re-dubbed the whole soundtrack and got rid of the burr, but it didn’t help the picture. It was a terrible flop. I saw it in Boston, at the opening performance. There were local drama students there and within twenty minutes they whistled it off the screen. That was that.’

I asked Carradine what other Shakespearean performances had impressed him, and he thought deeply before replying.

‘Well, I was impressed with Paul Robeson’s Othello³⁶ in a way. I was impressed by the fact he didn’t do anything. He was a lumbering man; he didn’t move well, so they put him in a chair centre stage and said: “Sit there,” which left all the action to Iago. Jose Ferrer,³⁷ who played Iago, just danced around Othello all evening, and I didn’t think much of him. Robeson had a magnificent voice, but it was a very limited voice. He had about eight notes. As a singer he had eight rich bass notes, but that’s not enough.’

‘What about the Julius Caesar film, with Gielgud, Brando and Mason?’³⁸

‘Well, I thought Brando was full of splendid surprises. He didn’t mumble, his English was impeccable, and I thought Gielgud was very bad in the instigation scene but wonderful in the quarrel scene. I don’t know why there was such a difference in his performance in those scenes.

‘I’ve played Cassius several times and I was anxious to see what he would do with it. In fact, I wanted to play it, I tried to get the part myself in the picture, but they chose Gielgud. But I was pleasantly surprised with Brando because he was known as a mumbler and his English was perfectly clear and crisp, British and natural. I thought he did a very good job.’

‘What do you think of English actors as a whole?’

‘By and large they’re the best actors there are. They have the best training you see. They don’t get a chance in the West End of London till they’ve had three years of repertory. By that time, they’ve played everything—Shaw and Shakespeare and Chekhov—everything. They may not be great artistes, but they know their business. English actors are the best actors we have in the English language.’

Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More in A Man For All Seasons, ANTA Theatre, New York, 1961. Photo by Friedman-Abeles.

New York Public Library, New York

‘Have you ever seen Paul Scofield?’³⁹

‘Yes, I have. I saw him do A Man For All Seasons.⁴⁰ He disappointed me. He did nothing with it at all, but he may have had an off night. It’s the only time I’ve seen him. But, having seen it, I decided I wanted to play it and, when he quit it, bearded the producer [Robert Whitehead] in his den and tried to get the part, but he wanted an Englishman and brought over Emlyn Williams⁴¹ to do it for three months. Then, when I heard Williams was quitting, I bearded Whitehead again, and this time he chose the understudy, who was an Australian actor. I got a chance at it later and I’ve done it several times since. It’s my favourite part in the theatre now.

‘I had a very amusing experience with it. I was doing it in South Dakota in the States, and it was an outdoor theatre—the stage was covered, but the audience was not—and during the intermission we had a cloud burst. Of course, the audience got soaked and sheets of water poured down on the stage and the apron was just flooded and before we started the second act, the stage hands came out with big wide brushes, and swept all this water off the stage into the orchestra pit, and I just couldn’t wait for the second act to start, because I knew what would happen.

‘The second act starts with the Common Man coming out and saying: “A lot of water has gone under the bridge …”.’ Here Carradine burst out into hearty laughter. ‘I just couldn’t wait, and of course the audience roared—it was so apropos.’

‘All these great roles you’ve played on stage—how do you feel when you’re playing murderers and suchlike in films?’

‘They’re jobs. I love to act. I remember one time I was doing a TV show written by Raymond Massey, The Hanging Judge. He’d had it done on the stage in London … ’⁴²

‘With Godfrey Tearle.’⁴³

‘Yes, Godfrey Tearle, and he was the wrong man, he was a too warm-hearted personality to play this cold-minded judge. So, when de decided to do it in the States, Massey decided to play it himself on TV and he hired Cedric Hardwicke⁴⁴ and me to play the opposing counsels. I was Counsel for the Defence and Cedric was Queen’s Counsel.⁴⁵

‘We had a scene together playing a game of pool in our club, and we consulted each other about it, and I said: “Why don’t we actually play a game of pool and sandwich the lines in between shots—really play the game of pool.” So, we did. John Frankenheimer,⁴⁶ who directed, thought that was a wonderful idea, and he loved it.

‘When we got through it, we were sitting on the sidelines of this big rehearsal hall in this big Hollywood studio. It was in the summer season, and we had this huge rehearsal hall and this was the dress rehearsal, and Cedric and I were sitting on the sideline watching the rest of the rehearsal and Cedric turned to me and said: “You know, John, we have something in common.” Well, I’d known Cedric for 25 years at least by that time and we’d been pretty good friends for years. “What is that, Cedric?” I asked. “We both love to act, and we’re damn good at it!” he said.

‘Cedric was a fine actor. He had a wonderful quality that I noticed even before I ever met him. A wonderful quality of stillness in his face. Not a muscle ever moved, yet he conveyed wonderful things. First time I’d seen him was in Les Misérables—as a matter of fact that’s where I met him. I was playing the young student who starts the French Revolution, and he was playing the Bishop from whom the candlesticks are stolen, and his acting had a quality of extraordinary serenity. He had that in his face, and it always impressed me. Tremendous serenity in his face.

‘He was a fairly serene man considering he had a great deal of trouble in his life. His wife was a dipsomaniac—they didn’t live together—he had her in an asylum in Canada. She would escape every once in a while: get a bowl of liquor and make a mess of things. And he had this to contend with for years and all his friends knew it. He was very fond of her, because she was a lovely lady when she was in her right mind. But he had to suffer this for years, he never divorced her. So, his life was not a serene life. He had an extraordinary modest serenity in his personality considering the trials and tribulations he had to suffer.’

‘Well, he was a great Shavian actor. What’s your opinion of Shaw?’⁴⁷

‘I’ve only played one Shaw play, and that was one of his very early plays they revive in London every couple of years or so. That’s a play called You Never Can Tell.⁴⁸ I played the waiter—a lovely role. Some top English actor plays it every five years or so. They get the top actor of the time, and they love to do it. I did it in stock somewhere. I was travelling doing stock all over the country, you know, doing different plays.’

Surprisingly, Carradine never played in Chekhov, Ibsen, or O’Neill. During the War, he told me, he had his own Shakespeare company, touring the West Coast of America.

John Carradine as Othello, with Sonia Sorel (the second Mrs. John Carradine) as Desdemona, 1943

J. Willis Sayre Collection of Theatrical Photographs, Washington University Libraries

John Carradine as Hamlet (right), with Robert Duke as Laertes, 1943

Wisconsin Center for Film & Theatre Research

‘I did three plays: Hamlet, Othello and The Merchant of Venice. It was a big heavy production, a beautiful production, which I designed. When I played San Francisco, they not only complimented me on my acting but for my production, designing the set and my direction. It was a going proposition, very successful.

‘After eight weeks of touring the West Coast, I was about to embark on a cross-country tour and couldn’t get out of Los Angeles. I couldn’t get a truck, couldn’t get a baggage car, couldn’t get anything. This was ’43. So I had to give it up. I played Shylock, Othello and Hamlet. Sometime I played Iago.’

I brought the conversation round to more contemporary playwrights, like Tennessee Williams.⁴⁹

‘The only Tennessee Williams play I ever did was Cat On a Hot Tin Roof, which I liked. I played Big Daddy. Do you know, the funny thing was it was offered to me some years before when they were first doing it. They were rehearsing out of town—New Orleans—and they called me up and wanted me to do it in New York, but I couldn’t get away, I was engaged in another production. I was doing Volpone on Broadway with Jose Ferrer—I was playing Voltore and Jose Ferrer was playing Volpone—so I couldn’t do it. I found out they got Burl Ives. [Carradine’s memory was at fault here. He played in Volpone in 1948 and Cat On a Hot Tin Roof did not premiere until 1955!]

‘Tennessee’s original idea for the part was a tall gaunt man, instead of a beefy man like Burl. Tennessee revived it under his own aegis in Paris a couple of years later and he got a tall gaunt man to play Big Daddy. He was talked out it apparently by the production people in New York. He had wanted me for it, but I was not available. It was too bad, because it’s a great part. But I did it later, just for one week.’

The interview had come to an end. I had enjoyed it more than I thought possible, and so I think he had. I was getting up to leave, when he suddenly said: ‘Put your recorder on again—here’s an anecdote you might like to record.

‘I had an idea about Romeo and Juliet. I was playing Mercutio and the tradition was that Mercutio was killed offstage and Benvolio comes on and informs Romeo: “Mercutio is dead, that gallant spirit, etc. etc.”

‘I had a better idea for it. Instead of having Benvolio come on and announce the death of Mercutio, I had him come in carrying the dead Mercutio in his arms, with his sword still in his dead hand, and I had Romeo run to him and help him, and they laid Mercutio on a bench upstage and at that point Tybalt comes in and challenges Romeo, and Romeo turns, prises open Mercutio’s dead hand and with Mercutio’s sword he turns on Tybalt and kills him. It’s a hell of a piece of business.

‘I found out—oh, years later—that Henry Irving did it in 1880. The same piece of business. Nothing new under the sun! I thought I’d invented a wonderful piece of business—and Irving did it in 1880! Same piece of business!

‘When it was done on Broadway the producer hired Jack Hawkins⁵⁰ to play Mercutio. I was trying to get the part, but he decided he wanted Hawkins, which was all right with me because Hawkins was a fine actor—a hell of an actor, one of my favourite actors in the world was Jack Hawkins. I thought: “Well, I didn’t get the part, but I’ll tell them the business I invented.” At that time I didn’t know that Irving had done it—and I told the producer, but they didn’t use it.’

Whilst still in New Zealand I was told a nice little ‘in’ story of John Carradine on The Scarecrow set.

‘Carradine, playing the murderer, comes into the town disguised as a visiting magician. They drove him onto the set in a Mercedes to give him the right treatment; it was an all-night shoot, about 1 a.m.

‘He got out of his Mercedes, walked slowly over to the front of a movie theatre and there was this big poster saying: “Dracula—starring John Carradine”.⁵¹ He looked at it, didn’t flicker a muscle, just looked at it, obviously thought something, and then walked on. He was getting into position. Didn’t say a word. But it obviously made quite an impression, seeing that poster.’

Poster for the film The Scarecrow, produced by Oasis Films and New Zealand National Film Unit, 1982

National Library of New Zealand

I have never seen The Scarecrow, but understand it is a very bad movie.

I often wonder what Carradine was like, in his heyday, playing Shakespeare. Ephraim Katz’s admirable The International Film Encyclopaedia says that in Hollywood Carradine had a reputation as an eccentric and a ham, and was known as the ‘Bard of the Boulevard’ for his habit of reciting Shakespeare in his booming voice while walking the streets.

Lloyd Fuller Dresser, in The Illustrated Who’s Who of the Cinemais kinder and says: ’The man’s credits are a roll of honour of the American cinema.’

Leslie Halliwell’s description of Carradine is of an actor ‘who scored a fine run of character roles in the thirties and forties but later sank to mad doctors in cheap horror movies, touring meanwhile with one-man Shakespeare readings’.

Endnotes compiled by Elisabeth Kumm

1. John Carradine (1906–1988), American film and stage actor.

2. The Scarecrow, directed by Sam Pillsbury, was released in 1982. It was known as Klynham Summer in America.

3. Carradine’s fourth and final wife, Emily Cisneros, whom he had married in 1975.

4. Frankenstein was a play by Victor Gialanella, with incidental music by Richard Peaslee. It was directed by Tom Moore. The principal roles were played by David Dukes (Victor Frankenstein), John Glover (Henry Clerval), Keith Jochim (The Creature) and Dianne Wiest (Elizabeth Lavenza). John Carradine played DeLacey, a blind hermit. The play commenced previews at the Palace Theatre, New York, 9 December 1980, eventually opening on 4 January 1981, but it closed the same night.

5. The Grapes of Wrath was a 1940 American film based on John Steinbeck’s 1939 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel of the same name. The film was directed by John Ford. The principal roles were played by Henry Fonda (Tom Joad), Jane Darwell (‘Ma’ Joad) and John Carradine (Jim Casey).

6. Captains Courageous was a 1937 American adventure film based on Rudyard Kipling’s 1897 novel of the same name. It was directed by Victor Fleming. Its virtually all-male cast included Freddie Bartholomew, Spencer Tracy, Lionel Barrymore, Mervyn Douglas, Mickey Rooney and John Carradine.

7. Stagecoach was a 1939 American western film directed by John Ford. Based on a short story by Ernest Haycox, it followed nine strangers riding through dangerous Apache territory in the 1880s. The principal stars were Claire Trevor and John Wayne.

8. John Ford (1894–1973) was an award-winning American film director best known for his westerns, notably Stagecoach (1939), The Searchers (1956) and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962).

9. Mary of Scotland was a 1936 American costume drama based on a 1933 play by Maxwell Anderson. It starred Katharine Hepburn as Mary, Queen of Scotland, and Fredric March as Bothwell.

10. Richard Boleslawski (1889-1937) was a Polish theatre and film director. Resident in America from 1922, he founded the American Laboratory Theatre in New York in 1923. He made several important films for major studios before his premature death aged only 48.

11. The Garden of Allahwas a 1936 American adventure film based on the 1904 novel of the same name by Robert S. Hitchens. The stars of the film were Marlene Dietrich and Charles Boyer.

12. Les Misérableswas a 1935 American drama film based on the 1862 novel of the same name by Victor Hugo. The film starred Fredric March as Jean Valjean and Charles Laughton as Inspector Javert. John Carradine played the small role of Enjolras, a revolutionary.

13. Clive of India was a 1935 American biopic starring Ronald Colman as Robert Clive, the nineteenth century colonist and founder of the British East-India Company.

14. Ronald Colman (1891–1958), English film actor and leading man in Hollywood from 1920s-1940s.

15. Cecil B. DeMille (1881–1959), American film director. His 1927 silent film The King of Kings, based on the life of Jesus established his reputation as a maker of epic films. His first sound film was The Sign of the Cross (1932), based on the 1895 play by Wilson Barrett, and starring Fredric March as Marcus Superbus, with Elissa Landi as Mercia. The Ten Commandments (1956) was a Biblical epic based on the life of Moses. Shot in VistaVision with colour by Technicolor, it starred Charlton Heston in the principal role. According to the Guinness Book of Records it is the eighth most successful film of all time.

16. Burgess Meredith (1907–1997) was an American film and stage actor. He established himself as a leading man in Hollywood after playing Mio Romagna in Winterset (1936), a film based on the 1935 play by Maxwell Anderson, loosely based on the Sacco and Vanzetti trial. It was directed by Alfred Santell.

17. Spencer Tracy (1900–1967), American film actor and major star of Hollywood’s Golden Age. During the 1940s and 1950s he co-starred in nine films with Katharine Hepburn.

18. Katharine Hepburn (1907–2003), American film and stage actress.

19. David Carradine (1936–2009), Keith Carradine (b.1949) and Robert Carradine (b.1954)

20. The Lion in Winterwas a 1966 play by James Goldman, based on events surrounding Henry II of England and his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine. The play premiered at New York’s Ambassadors Theatre, with Robert Preston and Rosemary Harris in the central roles.

21. Hair was a 1967 rock musical by Gerome Ragni and James Rado, with music by Galt MacDermot. Featuring nudity and drug taking, it championed the hippy movement and free love. Several of its songs became anthems for the anti-Vietnam War peace movement, namely ‘Age of Aquarius’. Having its premiere off-Broadway in 1967, it moved to the Biltmore Theatre in April 1968 where it played 1,750 performances. It spawned numerous touring productions and was hugely successful in the UK and Australia.

22. Tobacco Roadwas a 1933 play by American playwright Jack Kirkland. In 1970 John Carradine mounted a touring production in Florida with son Keith, who was later replaced by son Robert.

23. John Carradine directed a production of Hamlet at the Gateway Playhouse on Long Island in 1963, with himself as Hamlet and son David as Laertes.

24. Kung Fu was an American martial arts television drama starring David Carradine as Kwai Chang Caine. The series ran for 63 episodes between 1972 and 1975.

25. Long Riderswas a 1980 American western film directed by Walter Hill. It starred four sets of real-life brothers as the central protagonists: the Carradines (David, Keith and Robert), the Keaches (James and Stacy), the Quaids (Dennis and Randy), and the Guests (Christopher and Nicholas).

26. Morris Carnovsky (1879–1992), American stage and film actor. He played the title roles in Othello and The Merchant of Veniceat the American Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford, Connecticut during the 1950s.

27. John Gielgud (1904–2000), English stage and film actor.

28. Gielgud’s one-man Shakespeare recital was called Ages of Man. Devised by Oxford scholar George Rylands in 1939, Gielgud first performed it at the Edinburgh Festival in 1957. It was a huge success and he subsequently took it on tour around the world over the next decade. 

29. In 1952 he gave a one-man recital at the Village Vanguard, a nightclub in Greenwich Village. The recital include Shakespeare as well as passages from Shaw, Rupert Brooke, and the Bible.

30. ‘The Seven Ages of Man’ is the colloquial name given to Jaques’ speech from As You Like It, beginning ‘All the World's a stage’ (Act II, Scene VII, Line 139. The speech compares the world to a stage and life to a play and catalogues the seven stages of a man’s life.) 

31. Laurence Olivier (1907–1989), English stage and film actor. He directed three major film productions of Shakespeare: Henry V(1944), Hamlet (1948) and Richard III (1955) with himself in the title roles.

32. Richard Burton (1925–1984), Welsh actor. He played Hamlet on Broadway in 1964. Directed by John Gielgud, the production opened at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre on 9 April and ran until 8 August. Achieving 137 performances, it became the longest running Hamlet on Broadway. The production’s success has been attributed in some part to Burton’s romance with Hollywood actress Elizabeth Taylor, whom he married just before the play opened in New York.

33. See Note 31.

34. Maurice Evans (1901–1989), English stage actor active in America from 1936. He first played Hamlet on Broadway in 1938, when the play was performed in an uncut version for the first time. In 1945 he produced his ‘GI’ Hamlet, a modified version of the play that he had performed before troops during WWII.

35. Orson Welles (1915–1985), American stage and film actor, director and producer. Considered something of a Wunderkind, he shot to fame with his first film, Citizen Kane,in 1941. Prior to this, in 1936, he achieved notoriety when he directed a production of Macbeth for the Federal Theatre Project’s Negro Theatre Unit. Featuring an all-black cast, and moving the action from Scotland to the Caribbean, it became known as the Voodoo Macbeth. Welles did not play Macbeth on Broadway, but he did star in his own 1948 film of the play. It was shot in just 23 days at Republic Studios in Los Angeles using sets left over from low-budget westerns. Welles played King Lear at New York’s City Center during January 1956. Prior to this, he had played the role in a 1953 live television version directed by Peter Brook.

36. Paul Robeson (1898-1976), American actor and vocalist (bass baritone). Played leads in The Emperor Jones, Show Boat and All God’s Chullin Got Wings on Broadway and in London. He also carved out a significant career as a concert singer and recording artist. His rendition of ‘Ol’ Man River’ remains unequalled.

37. Jose Ferrer (1912–1992), American film and stage actor.

38. Julius Caesar was a 1953 American film directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz. It featured Marlon Brando (Mark Antony), James Mason (Brutus), John Gielgud (Cassio) and Louis Calhern (Julius Caesar).

39. Paul Scofield (1922–2008), English stage and film actor. His only Broadway appearance was as Sir Thomas More in A Man for All Seasons (1961).

40. A Man for All Seasonsby Robert Bolt began as a 1954 BBC radio play featuring Leon Quartermaine as Sir Thomas More. In 1956 Bolt adapted it for BBC television with Bernard Hepton in the title role. In 1960 it reached the stage. After a short try-out season in Oxford and Brighton, it opened in London at the Globe Theatre on 1 July, with Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More, Leo McKern as the Common Man, and Andrew Keir as Thomas Cromwell. When the London season closed on 1 April 1961, the play transferred to Broadway’s ANTA Playhouse, opening in November 1961 with Paul Scofield in his original role of Sir Thomas More. Leo McKern now played Thomas Cromwell, and George Rose was the Common Man. The play enjoyed an 18-month season on Broadway, winning a Critics Circle prize and five Tony awards.

41. Emlyn Williams (1905–1987), Welsh actor and playwright. Emlyn Williams played Sir Thomas More in A Man For All Seasons from 25 June 1962 to 4 May 1963. He was replaced by William Roderick who had played the role in South Africa.

42. Raymond Massey (1896–1983), Canadian stage and film actor. Father of actors Anna and Daniel Massey. In 1952 his (only) play The Hanging Judge, adapted from Bruce Hamilton’s 1948 novel Let Him Have Judgement, opened at the New Theatre in London on 23 September 1952, with the recently knighted Sir Godfrey Tearle as Sir Francis Brittain, an ruthless judge who is revealed to be leading a double-life. It was directed by Michael Powell. The following year it was produced as a radio play on the BBC with Boris Karloff as the Judge. A US TV production, directed by John Frankenheimer, aired in January 1956, with Raymond Massey as the Judge and Cedric Hardwicke as the newspaper magnate, Sir George Sidney. In 1958, Raymond Massey swapped to the role of the newspaper magnate in a UK television adaptation, directed by George More O’Ferrall, with John Robinson as the Judge (Robinson had played Sir George Sidney in the original stage production).

43. Godfrey Tearle (1884–1953), American-born, British stage and film actor. Son of actor Osmond Tearle and brother of actors Malcolm and Conway Tearle. The role of Sir Francis Brittain in The Hanging Judge was his final stage appearance.

44. Cedric Hardwicke (1893–1964), English stage and film actor.

45. Contemporary reviews and other sources suggest that Cedric Hardwicke played Sir George Sidney and that John Carradine played Colonel Archer, the police constable. See Note 42.

46. John Frankenheimer (1930–2002), American film director. His best films were made in the 1960s: Birdman of Alcatraz(1962), The Manchurian Candidate(1962), Seven Days in May (1964) and Grand Prix (1966).

47. George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950), Irish playwright and critic. The term ‘Shavian’ refers to someone or something encapsulating the views and ideals of Shaw.

48. You Never Can Tell was an 1897 play by G.B. Shaw written in the style of a farce. Though it has been staged many times, Carradine exaggerates the frequency of its revival in London. Following its original production at the Royalty Theatre in 1899 (a single Sunday performance by the Stage Society) and at the Strand Theatre in 1900 (six matinee performances), it was revived at the Court (1905, 1906 & 1907), Savoy (1907), Garrick (1920), Little (1927), Westminster (1938), Wyndham’s (1947), Haymarket (1966 & 1987), and Lyric Hammersmith (1979). On these occasions, the role of the Waiter was played by James A. Welch (1899 & 1900), Louis Calvert (1905, 1906, 1907 & 1920), J.D. Beveridge (1907), Frank Darch (1927), Stanley Lathbury (1938), Harcourt Williams (1947), Ralph Richardson (1966), Paul Rogers (1979), and Michael Hordern (1987).

49. Tennessee Williams (1911–1983), American playwright. His most famous works include The Glass Menangerie (1944), A Streetcar Named Desire (1947) and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1955).

50. Jack Hawkins (1910–1973), English stage and film actor. Romeo and Juliet played 49 performances at the Broadhurst Theatre from 10 March 1951. It was directed by Peter Glenville and the production was designed by Oliver Messel. The lovers were played by Olivia de Havilland (her Broadway debut) and Douglas Watson.

51. John Carradine played Dracula in numerous films: The House of Frankenstein (1944), The House of Dracula (1945), Billy the Kid vs Dracula (1966), Mil Mascaras vs Las Vamiras (1969), Blood of Dracula’s Castle(1969), McCloud Meets Dracula (1977), Vampire Hookers (1978), Nocturna, Granddaughter of Dracula (1979). For more on Carradine’s Dracula movies watch:

Next time... Carol Channing

Carole Channing as seen by cartoonist Hirschfeld. From the cover of the Princess Theatre program, 1972. Frank Van Straten collection.There was great excitement in May 1972 when Carol Channing¹ appeared on stage in Melbourne. Although not very familiar through films, but slightly more so via television, she was nevertheless, one of the legendary names of Broadway, mainly because of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Hello, Dolly!.²

About a fortnight before Channing’s first night, attending another opening, I was having drinks in the interval in a room set aside for Press and VIPs for that purpose. Suddenly impresario Kenn Brodziak³ walked into the room with an extraordinarily tall woman, with a blonde ‘gollywog’ hair-do and the most enormous brown eyes. It was Carol Channing, and I was introduced to her briefly.

Brodziak had booked Channing to play Melbourne and Sydney, but unfortunately the sudden demolition of the Theatre Royal in the harbourside city had meant that she could only appear in the one city. The 1,600 seater Princess Theatre obviously was too vast to sustain a four and a half week season to packed houses, so business was not as great throughout the run as might have been hoped for.

As to the first night, perhaps I should quote from my review in Variety:

It’s impossible to recall any single overseas entertainer having such an overwhelming first night reception in Melbourne as Carol Channing in her non-stop 90 minute performance at the Princess Theatre here.

Wisely, entrepreneur Kenn Brodziak had provided no supporting ‘warm up’ acts and certainly the blonde star needed none. The premiere audience – a star-studded one, embracing most theatre, tv and radio personnel not working – commenced applauding immediately the eight-piece orchestra struck up the ‘Dolly’ tunes in its overture. The red stage curtain rose to an empty stage of royal blue curtains, and the audience wildly applauded an invisible Miss Channing. Eventually the blue curtains parted to reveal the star herself in dazzling tangerine and with such enthusiasm was she greeted it was about three minutes before she had a chance to speak.

Cleverly she went from one number to another intervening patter to cover her costume changes, partially hidden by side screens as she did so. The chatter seemed almost off-the-cuff and again and again, quite naturally, brought in allusions to people, places and things only familiar to a Melbourne audience – and always in the right context.

Most of her songs she must have performed hundreds of times, yet they came out fresh and true: ‘Calypso Pete’, ‘I’m Just a Little Girl from Little Rock’, ‘Cecilia Sisson’, ‘You’re the Cream in My Coffee’.

Accompanied by Aussie guitarist Bruce Clarke, there was a branching out into a new field with country and western songs, while her impressions of Carmen Miranda, Brigitte Bardot as Lady Macbeth and particularly Marlene Dietrich were surprising eye-openers to he immense and versatile talent. At the end of course came the show-stopping numbers, ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’ (with ‘rocks’ thrown into the audience) and ‘Dolly’.

Again and again there were all-round gasps at the stunning dresses, some evocative of the ’20s, as were her songs and dancing.

It was very nearly a one-woman show. Six male dancers … efficiently performed on cue.

The applause at the end – handclaps, cheers and feet stamping – was sustained. The audience in the stalls rose to their feet to applaud, and one lost count of the numerous curtains as the star was called back again and again by an appreciative crowd that just refused to leave. For about the first time ever, Australia was seeing a major Broadway musical comedy star in action and right at her peak. For Carol Channing it must have been a memorable occasion: to make one’s debut, so successfully, in a strange land where hitherto one was mainly only known as the originator of the Hello Dolly song, some tv appearances and a role in the pic Thoroughly Modern Millie. But from now on a lot of Aussies are going to think of Carol Channing when they think of America. She is a first-class ambassadress.

Carol Channing. From the Princess Theatre program, 1972.

Frank Van Straten collection.

Press photos at Princess Theatre, 12 May 1972. Photo by Laurie Richards’ Studios.

Australian Performing Arts Collection, Arts Centre Melbourne

The morning after the first night I had a telephone call from Kenn Brodziak.

“How did you like Carol’s show last night?”

“I thought it was great, just great.”

“Have you doe your review of it for Variety?”

“Yes.”

“Carol and Charles [Charles Lowe, her husband⁴] would like you to have supper with them after the show one night next week?”

The venue for supper was a Chinese restaurant and Brodziak and his right-hand man at that time, Robert Ginn,⁵ also were present. In fact, I was taken to the restaurant by them, so that we could await the arrival of the Lowes.

I already knew from Brodziak, indeed the fact had been in the Press, that due to an allergy, Channing could only eat organic foods and carried her own food around with her to restaurants. According to Brodziak, this was the first time he had heard of organic food and, informed of it before hand, he had scoured the countryside for vegetables and meat.

Soon Channing arrived, dressed in a man’s tuxedo, looking very tall and elegant. With her she brough two flasks, one containing food, the other apparently water. She made no fuss about it, but just took food and liquid from the flasks as we ate. There was no embarrassment at all.

She refused to call Brodziak by his Christian name: “He’s my boss, just like David Merrick,”⁶ she told me, “and I always address him as Mr. Merrick.”

It was pleasant chatting to Channing and her husband over the meal, but hardly anything memorable cropped up.

Although she had played in Shaw’s The Millionairess some years before,⁷ she seemed to have no yearning to appear in other classics. She did mention, however, that Laurence Olivier was interested in getting her to appear in a play at London’s National Theatre some time.⁸

Before the season ended, I attended another performance., and went backstage afterwards. With great ceremony, she insisted on giving me one of the rings which she usually threw into the audience during the performance.

Carol Channing as Dolly Levi in the original 1964 Broadway production of Hello, Dolly! Photo by Friedman-Abeles.

New York Public Library, New York

Carol with Sir Robert Menzies and Mary Martin, backstage at the St James Theatre, New York, 1965 during Dolly

Courtesy of Frank Van Straten

According to the very experienced press agent for the Princess Theatre, Channing was the most co-operative star he had ever worked with. She had notified him in advance that she would do whatever he arranged, and she went through with a television appearance at 7 am and other assignments until the following midnight.

“When we met, she told me: ‘You’re the expert. You do the public relations with no interference or backseat driving from me.’ We understood each other.”

She was to finish her show in Melbourne on the Saturday night and would be flying back to America via Sydney on the Monday.

“Would it be of help to you,” she asked Brodziak, “if I do two shows in Sydney on the Sunday?”

The large Regent Theatre (which was housing another show during the week) was booked and a small classified advertisement inserted in one of the Sydney papers.

Immediately both performances were booked out and on the day scalpers were selling tickets at greatly inflated prices.

Aware that, due to the over-length of the season, houses in Melbourne had not been as packed as they might have been, Channing insisted on performing the two Sydney shows without any fee.

There was one amusing anecdote Brodziac later told me. For some reason Charles Lowe was out of Melbourne one Sunday, so Brodziac arranged to take Channing to whatever she wanted to see. She opted for the film A Clockwork Orange.⁹ They agreed to meet near the box office of the cinema.

Standing there awaiting the star, Brodziac was approached by a man whose face seemed familiar but to whom he could not put a name. This was nothing surprising as, acquainted with so many people, this has frequently happened to him.

Acknowledging the unknown standing before him, Brodziak said: “Well, it’s nice to see you again, but I have to go now. I’m waiting for Carol Channing.”

“I am Carol Channing!” came the response.

Without her wig, and dressed in a suit, she was totally unrecognisable to Brodziak!

Carol Channing is one of the few stars Brodziak has kept in touch with throughout the years, always seeing her when in New York, and exchanging cards at Christmas.

Poster from Lorelei, the 1973 musical version of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, the Anita Loos book that also formed the basis of the 1953 movie starring Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell.

Courtesy of Frank Van Straten

Carol Channing in the 1982 Broadway revival of Hello, Dolly! Photo by Martha Swope.

New York Public Library, New York

Endnotes compiled by Elisabeth Kumm

1. Carol Channing (1921–2019) was an American actress, singer and dancer. Carol Channing’s season at the Melbourne Princess ran from 17 May 1972–17 June 1972. In 1970 Channing had performed a version of her one-woman show at Drury Lane Theatre. Titled Carol Channing with Her Ten Stout-Hearted Men, it ran from 22 April to 23 May. She also toured the show throughout the USA during 1971.

2. Channing played the lead roles in the first Broadway productions of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1949) and Hello, Dolly! (1964). She revived both roles throughout her career, including playing Dolly on Broadway for the final time in 1995.

3. Kenn Brodziak (1913–1999) was an Australian theatre entrepreneur, often referred to as “Mr Show Business”. Through his company Aztec Services, which he founded in 1946, he oversaw the tours of a diverse range of performers, from Winifred Atwell to Marlene Dietrich, and Bob Dylan to the Beatles. From 1976-1980 he was managing director of J.C. Williamson Productions Ltd.

4. Charles Lowe (1911–1999), American theatre producer. He married Channing in 1956 and was seen as ‘the guiding force’ behind her career. Yet after 41 years of marriage, they divorced, and it was revealed that their relationship had been abusive and loveless.

5. Robert Ginn (b.1944), Australian theatre producer who worked closely with Brodziak.

6. David Merrick (1911–2000), American theatre producer. An unauthorised biography by Howard Kissel published in 1993 had the sub-title The Abominable Showman.

7. During July/September 1963, Carol Channing toured the USA in The Millionairess. The play did not open in New York. In 1952 the title role had been performed in London and New York by Katharine Hepburn.

8. Laurence Olivier (1907–1989), British actor and manager, was the first director of London’s National Theatre, 1963–1973. The largest of the three theatres within the National’s new building, opened in 1976, was named in his honour.

9. A Clockwork Orange (1971) was 1971 dystopian crime film adapted, produced, and directed by Stanley Kubrick, based on Anthony Burgess’s 1962 novel of the same name.

Raymond Stanley; photographer unkownRay Stanley was a journalist specialising in the entertainment industry. He wrote for a number of publications in the UK and Australia, notably The Stage (UK),giving information on theatre companies, actors and forthcoming shows. He also interviewed a number of actors and became friends with them, establishing a long correspondence, keeping their letters.

In December 2020, Theatre Heritage Australia was contacted by one of the executors of Raymond Stanley’s estate, seeking assistance with the sorting and cataloguing of a box of letters and other papers ahead of donating them to a suitable institution.

The letters turn out to have an interesting take on the attitudes of people involved in theatre and shed light on what was happening at the time.

Decoding the letters often in difficult handwriting or simply signed with a first name meant a lot of detective work was needed. We were convinced that there was a Ted Bramphas, who turned out to be Edward Brayshaw. Another, whose signature seemed to be ^^^^^^  ^^^^^ was eventually recognised as John Krummel, OAM, actor, director and producer whose career dates from 1960. He has the distinction of being convicted of using obscene language on stage in The Boys in the Band at the Playbox Theatre in 1969. He was arrested by a policeman who confessed on the witness stand that he was not a playgoer and would not have seen this play, except that there had been a complaint about it and he needed to see it to express that it was offensive to him. Not long after the law was changed. John Krummel’s letters however are from a later date, when he went to England. He at times seemed to admire and at others despise the standards in the UK. He also wanted to emulate what was good but feared he would never live up to their standards. Luckily for him, and Australia, he came home and enjoyed a distinguished career.

Most of the Raymond Stanley letters date from the 1960s and 70s and give us a good insight into the people and productions of the day. Some are from very well-known figures, others from actors whose existence has largely gone from our minds. It is this latter group which holds the most interest. Those from the “stars” tend to be mundane.

Bing Crosby, detail of a photograph sent in response to a fan letter

Judy Leech collection

Bing Crosby’s letter to Raymond Stanley, sent from New York City, 18 April 1935

Letter from Phyllis Diller to Raymond Stanley, 12 April 1969

Letter from Cole Lesley, sent on behalf of Noel Coward, from the Chevron Hilton Hotel, Sydney, 31 May 1963

The earliest letter is from none other than Bing Crosby and was written in 1935 replying I suspect to a schoolboy with a crush on the singer. Crosby has courteously replied thanking Ray for his interest and saying he always appreciates suggestions. (What were they one wonders?). It is obviously typed by a secretary but is signed “Bing”. Our awe at seeing letters from people we may idolise is tempered by the fact that many of these have less than interesting contents. John Gielgud sent two letters; the first to Corporal Stanley dated 1943 saying that he is not interested in reading the corporal’s play, so don’t send it! The second is from 1950 and declines to do an interview. Phyllis Diller was more friendly, on her very decorative personal stationary she says she has no idea when she will next visit Australia but hopes it will happen—“I am so enchanted with Australia. The people and the country are great.”

Another youthful enthusiasm was evidently for Noel Coward. There are two letters written not by The Master himself but his 1943 secretary to Corporal Stanley saying that Mr Coward says “thank you very much indeed for your letter and your good wishes for the opening of his London season”—so no autograph there! Nor in the second letter written by Cole Lesley, for many years Coward’s companion. Mr Coward “wants me to tell you how much he enjoyed the interview with you, also what a pleasant change it was to receive such a charming letter of thanks for having given one”. Also supplied is the address in New York where a copy of the publication with the interview can be sent, and it appears to be the residence rather than an agent’s address.

While many of the letters are short and simply to arrange meetings, others, offer frank assessments of companies, directors and other actors, some of which are libellous. The identity of these writers is supressed, as is others who may find their youthful opinions now embarrassing.

For example one remark which is probably not intended seriously but slightly maliciously reads “fancy the Tivoli burning down. [Gordon] Cooper [joint managing director of the Tivoli] probably put a match to it himself—oh that’s libellous. Don’t quote me—I’m sorry.”

Lewis Fiander and Barbara Stephens in Rumors, Footbridge Theatre, Sydney, 1990; photographer unknown

Fairfax Theatre Archive, Beleura House & Garden, Mornington

First page of a letter from Lewis Fiander to Raymond Stanley, dated 1 September 1962, and sent from London

As Ray lived in Melbourne, inevitably the letters refer to people and productions interstate or overseas. Lewis Fiander writes in 1961 to say he is off to England to do Hughie in The One Day of the Year.¹ Meanwhile he reports on a production of The Merchant of Venice ² in Sydney. Lewis went on for two performances as Shylock which got him “a good-bad crit” in the Sunday Mirror and he reports that there were calls to the box office asking if he would be doing it again. He then did a play for Channel 7 (in the days when plays were broadcast direct from the theatre) of Shaw’s Candida.³ He complained that they had to produce one and a half hours of uncut Shaw in nine days.

The Old Vic was touring Australia and Lewis went to Twelfth Night,⁴ which he thought was hideous. He also saw Lock Up Your Daughters ⁵ in Sydney, which he didn’t think “was as well produced as it should have been. It just seemed rather brash and bawdy in a very unsubtle way”. He also saw the last week of Bye Bye Birdie:⁶ “ one of the best produced and cast musicals seen here for a long time.”

A year later he writes from a London address in St John’s Wood [very upmarket]. He reports on The One Day of the Year, which has the roughest last week of rehearsals. We eventually opened with three tough but very successful “press first nights”. The very first performance was greeted with cheers and three curtain calls taken with the house lights on, ordered by the Stage Director. “Having now learned what bastards the press can be;—looking back I realise how well the play was receive. Despite very good notices for me I was unhappy with my work, but during the last week and a half I gave what I believe to be my best work to date. Never have I been so close to a character as Hughie and the memory of the last scene with Ronnie will stick with me always.”

He continues that after a few weeks without work “out of the blue, this dreadful crazy American film man summoned me for an audition. I read the part—got it—and before I knew where I was, found myself in uniform standing beside Dirk Bogarde and 300 POW extras. Ray, the film was awful. Bogarde is a honey. My part—small. The producer a drongo. But as time went by this cheap six week epic (I was booked for 3 days but stayed for the full nine weeks duration) was thrown together and now I wait to shudder at the result.” For those curious the film was called The Password is Courage.

First page of a letter from Jon Finlayson to Raymond Stanley, dated 11 October 1967

Second page of a letter from Jon Finlayson to Raymond Stanley, dated 11 October 1967

Jon Finlayson had a long career as an actor, writer, director, producer and singer. After beginning by touring the whole country with the Australian Boys Choir, he went on to create several long-running intimate revues. He spent many years in musicals and appeared as a straight actor with several companies, including the MTC.

On the 11 October 1967 he wrote to Ray that he was “terrible at writing letters but very good at answering them!” He’s right! The answer is nine pages long and covers several months in Sydney, in which he describes “an incredibly busy, fraught year for me—dashing and whirling around and trying to do lots of things all at once”.

He described Gypsy ⁷ as being fraught with setbacks. “Lesley Baker who was just marvellous as Mme Rose, developed voice trouble just before the opening and had to go off for 2 weeks within 2 weeks of the opening. Would you believe that her understudy refused to go on—and I had to rehearse a replacement while I was in the middle of rehearsing the 2nd edition of the Revue. ⁸ Then, with the new revue opened but one night, and me off to Adelaide as one of the Guests of Honour at the Drama Festival (Combined Unis), Wendy Blacklock developed the same trouble as Lesley and went out of the revue for a week.”

“I arrived back to find Lesley back with Gypsy but one of the dancers out, injured, and had to replace her without the help of Sheila Guye [?] who’d broken her knee cap while I was away shocking the University professors with my attitude toward ‘academic theatre’! Lesley’s voice has broken down again and we’re closing Gypsy early with the replacement playing the last week.”

His plans for the immediate future went array as he had picked a dancer out of the chorus (“who, incidentally was just great!!”) when she had an offer to go to Hong Kong “just as I was preparing to utilise her very heavily in some of the shows coming up, like Bye Bye Birdie, Guys and Dolls (I hope), Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (I hope) and West Side Story (I hope). Please, not a word about these as they are not yet settled. I want to find out what Nancye Hayes is up to also”.

“From this, you’ll gather that it seems likely that I’ll keep on with Menzies next year. I don’t know about the Astor [Theatre Restaurant] bit; I had such a drama with them about the last panto. They allowed me to approach a cast for an entirely new revue to open at the end of August and then (contrary to all our gentlemens (?) agreement) decided not to do a new show at all. Now, after I put in fourteen new items (once I’d started making changes I just couldn’t stop) they are kicking about having to pay royalties on some of the material. Really, they are the absolute end!!”

He continues that he was approached about the Phillip Revue but his calendar was so full that the dates made it unlikely he could fit it in. And then, after showing us [well Ray] that he was possibly the most experienced revue person around, he goes on to say that he truly doesn’t believe that revue is his medium.

He was asked to direct Rigoletto ⁹ for the Trust Opera Company “but wheels within wheels here; internal politics and a decision to do the concert from stock costumes and sets and not as I’d conceived it, made it impossible for me to accept”.

He also saw some productions at the Old Tote. He avoided The Dance of Death ¹⁰ because the cast of big names give him a pain in the neck. However “Jenny’s Hedda ¹¹ I’m a fraction more interested to look at, but somehow the clique-ness of The Old Tote and its audience is rather in-bred (perhaps because I’ve never been asked to work there?) and despite excellent notices for the production and cast, I really feel I must organise myself to go there, rather than want to go.”

“Saw Fiddler ¹² on opening night and will see it again next week just before it closes. Hayes [Gordon] is tremendous, quite remarkable. This is what it is all about to me! The best musical comedy leading man this country’s ever seen—bar no-one. His selflessness, his stillness his sheer hypnotic quality was a revelation, despite the appalling inconsistency of some of the supporting players … I haven’t seen a show at The Ensemble for an age—they are doing Miller’s Vichy ¹³ next and possibly I’ll do something if I can fit it in...”

Bob Hornery, with Dino Panozza and Barbara-Jane Cole, in a scene from Il Magnifico, Nimrod Theatre, Sydney, 1984; photograph by J. Van Loendersloot

Fairfax Theatre Archive, Beleura House & Garden, Mornington

Alan Edwards, Patricia Kennedy and John Krummel in Best of Friends, Northside Theatre, Sydney, 1989; unknown photographer

Fairfax Theatre Archive, Beleura House & Garden, Mornington

Bob Hornery, such a delightful actor who pretended to be so disreputable, also wrote from England. He first had a role in the Regent Park summer theatre production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. ¹⁴ Later he wrote: “I have been lucky enough to have been chosen to appear in the Chichester Festival … I have 3 lovely roles and I also understudy Danny Kaye, which I feel is a great honour. It is a practically all-star cast and I am doing 3 wonderful plays.” ¹⁵ Bob joins the coterie who admire the National: “I didn’t think I would ever see perfection in a theatre but there it is in every production at the National. Olivier’s Othello ¹⁶ was superb & the Crucible ¹⁷ magnificent.”

Patricia Kennedy’s opinion differed somewhat: “On the whole I believe the RSC [Royal Shakespeare Company] is stronger and better balanced than the National, though some productions had weaknesses, I think, and some immature acting especially in Twelfth Night.” ¹⁸

From Tony Llewellyn Jones comes a rare letter from Melbourne. This actor’s early career was with the MTC, where he managed to appear as the juvenile lead over several productions and years. He writes: “Sumner’s production of MUCH ADO ¹⁹ works I think (Just.) As you [are] no doubt well aware there are similarities to the Zeffirelli production [for UK’s National Theatre]—but so what? That production hasn’t been seen here except on television, and if things like the laundry, the singing & mock Italian accents work why not, use them? It is the first Shakespeare I’ve ever done professionally—and it has excited me—and continues to do so each night. I think I play against the text a number of times—so that it doesn’t really hang together, but dammit the play is full of inconsistencies & absurdities anyway, so (again) why not play for the moment? After the country tour of the production, I go back to the Nimrod Company to play Don John in John Bell’s production of the play!!! And then Buckingham in Richard Wherrett’s production of Richard III.” ²⁰

There is another mention of the National Theatre Production of Much Ado About Nothing²¹ from Brian James, veteran Australian actor, who visited England in 1967 and “saw Zeffirelli’s Much Ado, with Lady Olivier [i.e. Joan Plowright] playing Beatrice (Maggie Smith is pregnant)—a gay send-up of the Italian way of life—(Neil [Fitzpatrick] was awfully good, playing Baltasar [sic] as a sleezy, broad-beamed Italian singer with a weavey walk in a white suit and panama—and two lovely songs.)”

First page of a letter from Tony Llewellyn Jones to Raymond Stanley, sent from Hopetoun Road in Toorak and dated Monday, 14 July [1975]

First page of a letter from Brian James to Raymond Stanley, dated 24 October 1965, and sent from his Taylor Square address in Sydney

“Judi Dench is very moving in The Promise ²²—so good to be swayed between laughter and tears—in this beautiful little play set against the siege of Leningrad … Can’t get into Fiddler on the Roof—everyone is raving about Topol the star … Through Neil Fitzpatrick’s kindness I was able to get that rare thing a seat for Strindberg’s Dance of Death ²³—a strange pre runner of Edward Albee. What can one say about Olivier! Surely his Othello couldn’t have been better than this—such beautiful detail, effortless control, unexpected humour—and heart!”

Brian spent some time in Nottingham, where actor/manager John Neville was highly acclaimed through the country for his work in the Playhouse Theatre. “It is everything a theatre should be in a community—I do hope our new theatre in The Arts Centre will embrace some of the qualities this one has. The amazing thing is that it has acquired such stature under John Neville’s vital direction, in such a comparatively short space of time.”

In his next letter a few months later, he writes “ John Neville has, more or less, been sacked by the Nottingham Theatre Trust—justifiable uproar about this.”

He continues: “The months since April have been pretty exciting—and I feel I have learned a good deal, just by observing, seeing different standards of work—and studying. I hope it will show in any work as time goes by! It was so good to see Bob Hornery get such a hand at Chichester in The Farmer’s Wife ²⁴ as a randy 90 year old Devon man! Irene Worth was stunning, with John Clements, in Heartbreak House; ²⁵Trevor Nunn’s production of The Relapse, ²⁶ excellent … I’ve been very moved by Michael Blakemore’s production of A Day in the Death of Joe Egg ²⁷—black comedy about young parents of a spastic child, but it packs quite a wallop. Glad that it is going to Broadway. Rumour has it that Kevin Colson will do the male lead in Cabaret ²⁸ opposite Judi Dench.”

There are two other letters from Brian James written a couple of years earlier from Sydney.

Brian thanks Ray for sending him notices of Inadmissible Evidence. ²⁹ “I really don’t think Palmer ³⁰ and Standish ³¹ understood what Osborne was trying for—Palmer’s reference to the playwright’s use of the telephone instead of bringing characters on stage is an example of this. No thought for the terrible isolation of Bill Maitland with the phone the only thing left to resort to … I will pass your letter onto Robin [Lovejoy] when I see him: he has been rather depressed by the reaction to the play: business, in the Tiny Tote, has not been good and, a fortnight ago, when the visiting interstate Trust producers came to Sydney for a weekend conference, not one of them made any remark on this production.”

Two months later he writes: “John Sumner was over here earlier last week with George Ogilvie—that’s an interesting appointment isn’t it?—and I spent a short time with him. I understand the last season has been quite a financial success at the Union; although he seemed rather disenchanted by the critics views of Inadmissible Evidence and The Homecoming³² as plays. It is quite possible that I’ll be working with him again shortly in some of the plays in the new season at Russell Street but I’ll await conformation by letter this week.”

“Virginia Woolf ³³ is doing very well at the Tiny Tote for its third season—never know why they can’t play a season right through and have done with it! They certainly sent the play to some outlandish places like Coff’s Harbour—which seems like plain stupidity to me.”

Sophie Stewart at her home at Church Point, Sydney, 1962; photograph by Alec Iverson

Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales

Letter from Sophie Stewart to Raymond Stanley, dated Sunday, 29 November [1970], and sent from her Church Point home in Sydney

In a number of cases the writers show a motive to get help or advice about work. One such correspondent is Sophie Stewart, a Scottish actress who married the Australian actor Ellis Irving and managed to split her career between Britain and Australia. In about the mid-1960s she writes: “A very quick scribble to thank you so much for your letters, cuttings and for contacting George Fairfax [at that time at St Martin’s Theatre]. So far we haven’t heard from him—but we live in hopes! I’ve written to Johnnie Ladd at Bettina [Welch]’s suggestion—just in case George falls through.”

Sophie then says they will be driving down from Sydney to Melbourne for an unnamed production. “The publicity is fine—so pleased. Keep it dark—as yet—but I think I am going into My Fair Lady ³⁴ playing Mrs Higgins. It will be a tight squeeze for time and rehearsals but I can do it, I hope.”

In 1965 she writes from Sydney that she and Ellis are off to the UK. “While we were on tour with Hay Fever ³⁵ we had a very attractive invitation to play at the 1966 Pitlochry Festival. [Pitlochry is a small Perthshire town which for several years held an acclaimed summer season in its tiny theatre.] Negotiations went on for a month or two and it was only about a month ago that we got the ok from Pitlochry to give you the news … It was too good an offer to turn down, especially with things so quiet here. We are really thrilled about it and I am very excited at the thought of playing again in my native country! We are going to do The Cherry Orchard with Ellis playing Gayev this time; The First Mrs Fraser with us in the Marie Tempest and Henry Ainley roles; ³⁶ Lady from Edinburgh, ³⁷ the play that was written for me by Aimie Stuart and Arthur Rose, and which I played for 2 years at the Playhouse in London; … Pitlochry is holding back its announcement of our appearance until The Stage gets it from you … I have cancelled my Stage now, so if your article appears before we leave would you be a dear and send it to us.”

The couple later returned to Australia and found work difficult to obtain but she pursues several angles: “Bettina [Welch] has told me of your letter from Peter [Cotes]—dear Peter, so difficult—so I am in the picture! Anyway he can but wait and see. Things are deadly dull and one despairs of the theatre. However I have written and/or contacted everyone we can think of. I had a nice non-committal letter from John Sumner. I have written Irene Mitchell as you suggested about The Queen’s Highland Servant, ³⁸ but there hasn’t been time yet for a reply. John Tasker is madly keen to direct it and he tells me that Irene has already asked him to direct a play for her in the new season. So this might work out.”

“It’s so sweet of you to keep us in contact with things—we do appreciate it … Meanwhile if you are in touch at all with the St Martins, a persuasive word from you might help!”

1972 saw Sophie and Ellis back in Scotland where they bought a small cottage. Sophie had been offered work as a Lady in Waiting in Crown Matrimonial in London but as the contract was for twelve months she turned it down. She seems to have remained in Scotland until her death at five years later at the age of 69.

Letter from Henri Szeps to Raymond Stanley, dated 24 January 1971, sent from Sydney

Henri Szeps in Three Hotels, Ensemble Theatre, Sydney, 1994; photographer unknown

Fairfax Theatre Archive, Beleura House & Garden, Mornington

In 1971 Henri Szeps wrote to say that he was planning a trip to England and “wondered if there are any people you could suggest to me or even if you could write me some kind of letter of introduction to someone. Please don’t go through any kind of trouble over that but if you can think of anyone I would be most appreciative”.

In 1963, Edward Brayshaw took the road of so many other Australian actors by going to England. If he thought it would be the road paved with gold he was disappointed. Shortly after arriving he turned down an invitation to understudy in a Ray Lawler play: “that is not what I came here to do” but took a very minor part in a film called 663 Squadron calling it “an awfully good break”.

Obviously Edward found work as 18 months later he writes: “Things have been going very well for me for the last 9 or 10 months. After the film was finished I had a pretty grim patch.” His agents were “no good for me so I changed and after being 4 months sitting on my prat! Now with the new one [agent], I am doing OK”.

A year later he writes “Ray, I love it here and want to stay permanently … Your news about the theatre scene in Australia is very depressing Ray, but this is really why I find the scene here not as pleasing as I had looked to expect. I feel that it lies in the writing or rather lack of it and it is the same everywhere London, NY and on the Continent. I feel in many ways, certainly in Britain, that the Angry Young Man period (while extremely good and very necessary) brought into the theatre a lot of unskilled people in all fields. Because at the time it was fashionable to shun the traditional, the experimental and the establishment, and replace it with a scruffy set of people who have none of these thing, who have got hold of the reigns and led us to a new ground and created their own ESTABLISHMENT which is just now dull and it will take some time for this to disappear and the pendulum to settle then we will have the interesting theatre again.”

Brayshaw remained in England and worked in the theatre and TV until he died of cancer at the age of 57 in 1990.

The view of a playwright, who I shall not name, is outlined in two letters from the 1960s. In the first he writes about the invitations he has to go to the UK for a production of one of his plays but he is wary. Through the letter he constantly repeats that he is wary because he knows “the behind scenes West End well enough to realise that rather than helping to clear up the muddle that always goes on at this stage, my presence would probably increase it”. He is emphatic that he is not vain or arrogant but at an earlier time a play of his had a “seedy run” at a prominent theatre company. “The reasons for the seediness are many … one of the main reasons was in the enormous amount of rewriting I did, quite placidly, for the director. Often I felt he was wrong but, since he was a reputable man esteemed in the West End, I rewrote without a quiver. This time I am being very wary … if it is muted down too much, is subtle-ized, made too sensitive (and even worse Anglicised) whatever the play has is gone.”

He persist in saying that he doesn’t regard himself as “Strindberg, or Tennessee Williams or Albee” but he still gets very irritated at the way he is treated. Nevertheless he is keener on a British production of his plays. “I have turned down offers from creatures like John Sumner, Robin Lovejoy etc... you’d better ask me about that. Briefly, I’ll admit to a preference for being launched in London even though I’m an enthusiastic lover of my own country: it’s only in its theatre area I jack up: it seems to me too too fantastic that our ‘national’ theatre should be dominated by pommy poofters, & that the Australian (!) Eliz[abethan] Theatre Trust is controlled by a refugee from the Vienna Boys’ Choir.”

First page of Bob Hornery’s letter to Raymond Stanley, posted from London in May 1966

Second page of Bob Hornery’s letter to Raymond Stanley, posted from London in May 1966

From England Bob Hornery writes that he enjoyed one of Ray’s articles in The Stage and “needless to say I agree with everything you say. Latest reports don’t seem to be so encouraging. The Tivoli close-down was a hell of a blow. Apparently little theatres—Union & St Martins, Tote etc are doing all the business. Is this so? I hear terrifying rumours that Carrolls & Williamsons are both pulling out! Surely not!”

Brian James also comments on Ray’s assessment of Australian theatre in The Stage ³⁹ when he comments on an article which is headed “Setback of standards in Australia”. Brian says “Congratulations! It does make one furious to read of the amateur standards continuing to exist in this organisation—and bad amateur at that, judging by your account I’m so glad someone has shown them up so publicly. And it makes one sad to think that young people like my youngest nephew, will be judging Shakespeare from this type of production.”

There are a number of passing comments from actors who either despair of theatre in Australia or praise it above the standards they are seeing overseas. For instance from England Edward Brayshaw wrote: “I have seen some of the worst theatre here that I’ve ever seen anywhere. The last two Old Vic productions were just so bad as to be laughable particularly OTHELLO. ⁴⁰ The one thing that I feel is that We at home have been very unjustly maligned and convinced into thinking we are fathoms below standard and in actual fact many of our shows are infinitely better particularly in the staging and regardless of what you are lead to believe give me any time the old Aussie DRIVE and ATTACK at least you can hear us.”

Letter from Marie Stopes, 24 June 1957, sent to Raymond Stanley prior to his departure for Australia in September 1958

Perhaps, to end, the most surprising correspondent is Marie Stopes, known best for her foundation of the Society for Constructive Birth Control and Racial Progress. She had seen a letter from Ray in The Times, which was evidently about a book he was planning on William Archer ⁴¹ (best known as a journalist who wrote extensively about various aspects of theatre in the late 19th and early 20th century). Ms Stopes wonders if Ray would be interested in the fact that “Archer was one of the Vice-Presidents of the Society which I founded and of which I am still the President, and that he was very helpful and interested in our work”.

It is surprising how far an interest in one area can spread. Raymond Stanley’s love for and fascination with theatre began when he was a child and stayed with him through his life. He does not appear to have wanted to go on the stage but at one time was interested in becoming a dramatist and was an office holder of the Playwrights Club in London. I met him in the 1970s and 80s at various media conferences and other theatrical gatherings and his knowledge of theatre, playwrights and productions was extensive.  These letters add to our knowledge of the theatrical world and will one day be conserved at an appropriate place for others to study at their leisure.

Endnotes compiled by Elisabeth Kumm

1. The One Day of the Year was performed for the first time in the UK at the Theatre Royal, East Stratford, 23 October 1961.

2. The Merchant of Venice opened at the Palace Theatre, Sydney, 23 May 1961, with John Alden as Shylock. Lewis Fiander played Launcelot Gobbo and Robyn Nevin was Nerissa. Fiander took over the lead role during Alden’s indisposition.

3. When Peter Cotes was in Australia during the early 1960s, he directed a television version of George Bernard Shaw’s Candida for HSV-7. It was presented as part of the General Motors Hour on Sunday, 5 August 1962. Cotes’ wife Joan Miller played Candida, with Geoffrey King as Morell and Lewis Fiander as Marchbanks.

4. When the Old Vic toured Australian in 1961, they brought with them three plays: Duel of Angels, The Lady of the Camelias and Twelfth Night. With Vivien Leigh and John Merivale as the stars, Twelfth Night was directed by Robert Helpmann and featured sets by Loudon Sainthill. It was seen at the Theatre Royal, Sydney, in October and November 1961.

5. Lock Up Your Daughters with Hy Hazel and Richard Wordsworth played at the Sydney Palace Theatre from 8 June 1961 to 14 October 1961.

6. Bye Bye Birdie was seen at Sydney’s Her Majesty’s Theatre, 21 October 1961 to 25 November 1961, with Patricia Finley and Frank Buxton as the leads.

7. The first Australian production of Gypsy, directed by Jon Ewing, opened at the Menzies Theatre Restaurant, Carrington Street, Sydney in September 1967. Founded by Jon Ewing and Hayes Gordon, a series of ‘mini musical’ were staged at the Menzies during 1967 and 1968 including Brigadoon, Kiss Me Kate, Sweet Charity, Annie Get Your Gun, Little Me and Bells Are Ringing.

8. Revue at the Loo, written by John McKellar and produced by William Orr, opened at the Astor Theatre Restaurant in Woolloomooloo on 21 March 1967.

9. The Elizabethan Trust Opera Company’s 1967 season comprised five operas, staged at Sydney’s Tivoli Theatre from 26 August to September 1967. For Rigoletto, the director was Stephan Beinl and the designer Rob Reid. Roger Covell, writing in the Sydney Morning Herald (20 September 1967), noted: “Stephan Beinl’s production did nothing actively objectionable, but also very little that was positively illuminating.”

10. Presumably Jon Finlayson is referring to the Independent Theatre production of  The Dance of Death which opened on 13 September 1967. This featured Ron Haddrick as Edgar and Jacqueline Kott as Alice. The director was Robert Levis.

11. The Old Tote production of Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler opened on 23 September 1967, with Jennifer Hagan in the title role. Robert Quentin was the director.

12. Fiddler on the Roof played at Her Majesty’s Theatre, Sydney, 16 June 1967 to 21 October 1967, and was revived the following year, 5 October 1968 to 1 February 1969.

13. Arthur Miller’s Incident at Vichy played at the Ensemble Theatre from 12 October 1967 to 2 December 1967; directed by John Macleod. Jon Finlayson was not in the cast.

14. A Midsummer Night’s Dream opened at the Open Air Theatre. Regent’s Park on 6 June 1966.

15. The three Chichester plays were: The Farmer’s Wife (30 May 1967), which starred Irene Handl; The Beaux’ Stratagem (5 June 1967), with Prunella Scales, Peter Egan and Anton Rodgers; and The Servant of Two Masters (8 August 1967), with Danny Kaye. However the last named was replaced by The Italian Straw Hat when Kaye pulled out of the show.

16. Othello opened at the Old Vic in London on 23 April 1964, with Olivier as Othello, Maggie Smith as Desdemona and Frank Finlay as Iago; directed by John Baxter, with settings and costumes by Jocelyn Herbert.

17. The National Theatre production of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, directed by Laurence Olivier, opened at the Old Vic on 19 January 1965. Principal roles were performed by Colin Blakely, Robert Lang, Sarah Miles, Frank Finlay and Joyce Redman; with setting and costumes by Michael Annals.

18. Twelfth Night opened at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon on 21 August 1969, with Judi Dench as Viola and Donald Sinden as Malvolio. John Barton directed, with sets by Christopher Morley and costumes by Stephanie Howard. This production was brought to Australia the following year, with Dench and Sinden reprising their roles.

19. The Melbourne Theatre Company presented Much Ado About Nothing at the Russell Street Theatre, 17 June 1975 to 9 August 1975, with Jennifer Hagan and Frederick Parslow as Beatrice and Benedick; directed by John Sumner; costumes by Kristian Fredrikson.

20. Richard Wherrett’s production of Richard III opened at Sydney’s Nimrod Theatre on 24 October 1975, with John Bell in the title role. The following month, John Bell’s Much Ado About Nothing, with Anna Volska and Peter Carroll as the Beatrice and Benedick opened at the same theatre.

21. Franco Zeffirelli’s Much Ado About Nothing opened at the Old Vic in London, 16 February 1965, with Maggie Smith and Robert Stephens as the sparring lovers; with settings by Zeffirelli and costumes by Peter J. Hall.

22. The Promise by Aleksei Arbuzov, translated by Ariadne Nicolaeff, opened at the Fortune Theatre in London, 17 January 1966, with Judi Dench, Ian McShane and Ian McKellen; directed by Frank Hauser. In November 1967 the same production played at Henry Miller’s Theatre in New York with Eileen Atkins, Ian McShane and Ian McKellen.

23. Strindberg’s The Dance of Death (translated by C.D. Locock), opened at the Old Vic in London, 21 February 1967, with Laurence Olivier as Edgar and Geraldine McEwan as Alice; directed by Glen Byam Shaw, with designs by Motley.

24. The Farmer’s Wife. See endnote 15.

25. George Bernard Shaw’s Heartbreak House was produced at the Chichester Theatre on 18 July 1965, with John Clements, Diana Churchill, Irene Worth, David Bird, Bill Fraser, Doris Hare and Anton Rodgers in the principal roles. It was directed by John Clements, with sets and costumes by Peter Rice.

26. Trevor Nunn directed the RSC revival of The Relapse at the Aldwych Theatre, 15 August 1968, with Barrie Ingham and Frances de la Tour as Lord Foppington and Miss Hoyden.

27. Michael Blakemore’s production of Peter Nichols’ A Day in the Death of Joe Eggwas first produced in Glasgow prior to opening at the Comedy Theatre in London on 20 July 1967. Principal roles were played by Joe Melia, Zena Walker, John Carson, Phyllida Law and Joan Hickson.

28. Cabaret opened in London at the Palace Theatre in 1968, with Judi Dench as Sally Bowles, Kevin Colson as Clifford Bradshaw, Barry Dennen as the Master of Ceremonies, Peter Sallis as Herr Schultz and Thelma Ruby as Fraulein Schneider. Harold Prince was the director, as he had been for the original Broadway production.

29. Inadmissible Evidence by John Osborne opened at the Union Theatre, Melbourne, on 18 October 1965. It featured Edward Hepple as Bill Maitland and Bunney Brooke as Jane Maitland. John Sumner directed, with scenery by Richard Prins.

30. Howard Palmer was the arts critic for The Herald (Melbourne).

31. H.A. Standish was the arts critic for the Sun News Pictorial (Melbourne).

32. The UTRC production of Harold Pinter’s The Homecoming was performed at the Union Theatre, Melbourne, from 8 November 1965 to 27 November 1965, with Frank Thring as Max, Alan Hopgood as Lenny, Edward Hepple as Sam, Malcolm Robertson as Joey, Frederick Parslow as Teddy and Jennifer Claire as Ruth. John Sumner directed and Kristian Fredrikson designed the scenery.

33. The Australian premiere of Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf took place at the Old Tote in Sydney on 25 April 1964, with Jacqueline Kott as Martha, Alexander Hay as George, Wendy Blacklock as Honey and Kevin Miles as Nick, and directed by John Clark. After a nine and half week season, the play toured to Brisbane and Adelaide, returning to Sydney in August 1964 for a further four weeks at the Palace Theatre. Following another tour, it returned to Sydney for a third season, playing at the Tote from 30 November 1965 to 18 December 1965.

34. When J.C. Williamson’s revived My Fair Lady in 1970, Sophie Stewart played Mrs Higgins, alongside Robin Bailey as Higgins, Rona Coleman as Eliza and Kenneth Laird as Doolittle. John McCallum was the director.

35. Sophie Stewart and Ellis Irving toured Noel Coward’s Hay Fever (directed by Alan Edwards) throughout New South Wales, opening at the Orange Drama Festival in February 1964. The tour was jointly sponsored by the Arts Council of New South Wales, Australian Elizabethan Theatre Trust and Old Tote Company.

36. Sophie Stewart headlined the 1966 Pitlochry Festival. She appeared in four of the six plays: The First Mrs Fraser (9 April 1966), Dear Charles (16 April 1966) and The Cherry Orchard (31 May 1966) and The Way of the World (28 June 1966).

37. Sophie Stewart created the role of Cristabel in Lady from Edinburgh when the play was given its world premiere in November 1944 in France under the auspices of ENSA. She starred in the first UK performance at His Majesty’s Theatre, Aberdeen, on 26 February 1945, and in Glasgow and Cardiff, prior to a sixteen month season (560 performances) at the Playhouse in London from 10 April 1945 to 10 August 1946. The play was revived for the 1955 Pitlochry Festival, with Agnes Lauchlan as Cristabel, but it was not a success.

38. The Queen’s Highland Servant by William Douglas Home was first performed in the UK in 1968 with Pamela Stanley as Queen Victoria. The proposed season at St Martin’s Theatre in Melbourne did not eventuate.

39. See ‘Setback of Standards in Australia’, The Stage, 17 August 1967, p. 20.

40. Othello opened at the Old Vic on 30 January 1963 with Errol John as Othello, Adrienne Corri as Desdemona and Leo McKern as Iago. The production prior to that was The Alchemist, which starred Leo McKern.

41. Raymond Stanley’s book on Archer was Tourist to the Antipodes: William Archer’s Australian journey, 1876-77, St Lucia Press, University of Queensland, 1977.

Grateful thanks to Leslie Cartwright, co-executor of the Will of Raymond Stanley for giving permission to republish the letters.

And a big thank you to Ingrid Hoffmann, Archives & Curatorial Manager, Beleura House & Garden, Mornington, for assistance sourcing some of the photographs.