IRENE DUNNE TODAY

 Of all the great female stars of the 1930s and 40s, Irene Dunne has been the most neglected of late. Garbo, Harlow, Davis, and MacDonald's films have been revived theatrically, and at least the Lombard, Crawford, and Shearer pictures have been shown on television. Legal problems and remakes have prevented most of Irene Dunne's best pictures from being televised, a great pity when one realizes that she was nominated for the Academy Award five times, and was the only performer of her era to excel equally in the three disparate fields of light opera, melodrama, and sophisticated comedy. With all of this in mind, as well as the fact that Miss Dunne's personal popularity has endured extraordinarily, last fall both the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and the M.H. Memorial Museum of San Francisco mounted extensive retrospectives of Miss Dunne's films. For all of us who worked on these tributes, it was an enormous effort, but the satisfaction of bringing this unique career back to light made it all worthwhile.

 The project was initiated in San Francisco by Earl Anderson of the De Young Museum, who is a personal friend of Miss Dunne, having served with her on the California Commission of the Arts. Anderson had corresponded earlier with Dr. Philip Chamberlin of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and when Mr. Anderson proposed that the two museums share the Irene Dunne Festival, Dr. Chamberlin readily agreed. Shortly thereafter, Dr. Chamberlin invited me to help him mount the program, which was to run every Saturday night in the fall. At the same time, we organized a tribute to seven great cinematographers which ran concurrently on Friday nights.

 The first problem was to select which of Miss Dunne's films to show, a most difficult matter, for although she made a moderate 42 films in 22 years, at least 30 of them were major efforts deserving rivival. The Museum's calendar allowed us only eight Saturdays to represent all the the diverse aspects her career. Miss Dunne was quite surprised when we told her of our plans, but she compiled a list of her twelve favorite films and this became the backbone of the series. Her list contained only two comedies, however (THEODORA GOES WILD and THE AWFUL TRUTH), and knowing that the public remembered her best for her comedies, and feeling that I should try to balance a heavy dramatic story on a double bill with a funny one whenever possible, I proposed various additional titles. We decided to add LIFE WITH FATHER, THE MUDLARK, MY FAVORITE WIFE, and JOY OF LIVING to the list. As many of the films had never been seen anywhere since their first release, finding prints and getting clearances to show them was an enormous chore which Dr. Chamberlin handled with great finesse. In all discussions, Miss Dunne was completely cooperative, and never attempted to impose her will. When I suggested that we opened the series with either CIMARRON or SHOWBOAT, Miss Dunne said simply, "I think ROBERTA would be better," and after screening ROBERTA we knew she was right.  

 ROBERTA opened the series on October 3, 1970 and was a smash hit in every way. The auditorium was completely sold out and over 2000 people had to be turned away that night. After opening with a short excerpt from OVER 21, we brought Miss Dunne on stage. She was beautifully gowned, and her remarks were brief, charming, and wyrly humorous. The audience response to ROBERTA was fantastic; there was wild applause and cheering after each of the numbers, which included Ginger Rogers belting out "I'd be Hard to Handle" (complete with French accent), Fred Astaire's "I Won't Dance," four Astaire-Rogers dance routines which are among the best they ever did, and Miss Dunne's singing of "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," "Yesterdays," and "Lovely to Look at." Originally produced by RKO, ROBERTA was purchased by MGM for a remake. Many believed the orginal version was lost, but MGM managed to find a severely damaged print from which a dupe negative and new prints have been made. The soundtrack was re-recorded, but remains fuzzy at the beginnings of the reels, so that Miss Dunne's renditions of "Smoke" and "Lovely" are somehow distorted. Nevertheless, ROBERTA is one of the most delightful musicals ever made, and as it ended opening night, the audience rose in a body and gave Miss Dunne a prolonged standing ovation.

 A GUY NAMED JOE opened the next program and the audience loved it too. It is also one of Miss Dunne's favorites, although she later told me that making it was the most difficult experience of her career. After the company had been shooting for several weeks, Van Johnson was critically injured in a motorcycle accident; the studio, MGM, decided to shut down A GUY NAMED JOE until he recovered, and meanwhile, Miss Dunne began work on THE WHITE CLIFFS OF DOVER. Ten weeks later Johnson returned, and A GUY NAMED JOE resumed, but since WHITE CLIFFS could not be shut down, Miss Dunne had to act in both films simultaneously. "I always live the characters I played," says Miss Dunne, "and to have to be these two entirely different women at the same time was unbearable. And yet I think A GUY NAMED JOE is one of the finest pictures I ever made." The second feature that night was THE AWFUl TRUTH, a classic of such great and well-deserved reputation that nothing need be added here. Columbia kindly loaned us an original nitrate print, and the audience went wild at the farcical antics of Cary Grant and Irene Dunne, particularly at Miss Dunne's impersonation of a vulgar hussy.

 LIFE WITH FATHER is not one of Miss Dunne's favorites, and she told me that Michael Curtiz bombarded her with pleas for weeks before she finally consented to appear in it. (Had she ultimately declined, the role probably would have gone to Mary Pickford, who wanted to make a comeback, had tested for it, and was the only other strong contender. Miss Dunne also related, "They sent us all down to Westmore's one Sunday morning to get our hair dyed red. When they went to rinse the dye off they discovered that there was no water -- the plumbing for the whole block had been turned off because they were repairing the street. We called up the Mayor and everybody we could think of, but to no avail. Fortunately, somebody hit the idea of diluting the dye with gallons of cold cream; otherwise we would have been bald, hair dyes were so crude in those days." The screen rights to LIFE WITH FATHER reverted back to the owners of the play after seven years, and it was never shown on television until last year, when CBS presented a drastically cut version Christmas night. Warner Brothers made available to us a 35mm nitrate Technicolor print. As LIFE WITH FATHER and MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION are both extremely long films, we presented only the last three reels of the latter. MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION is undeniable dated, and was directed in a most stagebound manner. Nonetheless, I was quite surprised by the torrents of laughter with which the excerpt was received.

 Nobody laughed, however, the next week when we presented LOVE AFFAIR, which is essentially an old-fashioned, sentimental melodrama despite the bitter sophistication of the comedy sequences at the beginning. "I say LOVE AFFAIR is my favorite of all my films not only because it was so well done, but also because we had such a good time making it," said Miss Dunne. "I always worked well with Boyer, and Leo McCarey was a marevelous director and a very dear friend. We shot in continuity and we had such a good time doing the shipboard sequences (much of which was improvised) that when the story had us dock in New York, we felt a real letdown just as if we had returned from a real trip. Nobody could think about anything to pep up the script and they had to bring in teams of extra writers." Originally produced by RKO, the property was purchased by 20th Century Fox, where a remake, again directed by Leo McCarey, was released under the title AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER in 1957. The remake copies the original as closely as and possibly could, employing the same dialogue and staging throughout. Nevertheless, the two films are quite different. AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER is funnier, lighter, and less involving than LOVE AFFAIR, and in my opinion, LOVE AFFAIR is clearly the better of the two.

 The second feature with LOVE AFFAIR was THE MUDLARK, contrasting Miss Dunne's most familiar, glamorous image with a character role quite unlike any other part she ever played, that of Queen Victoria. The film has faults cinematically; it is overlong and disjointed, yet amusing and wholly captivating. A little boy named Andrew Ray has the title role and steals every scene he is in. Miss Dunne dissapears into her role and make-up so completely that one must study the familiar nose and mouth to be sure it is really she. A highlight of the film is Alec Guinness, as Disraely, delivering an astounding oration that was shot in one ten-minute take.

 CIMARRON, like ROBERTA, was bought by MGM for a remake, and the original was preserved from a badly worn print. There are problems with the soundtrack in a few parts, and some sections of the picture are quite scratched, but the film is complete in 124 minutes, and the scenes of the Oklahoma landrush and the growth of Osage from village to metropolis are spectacular. Aside from the landrush and a brief gun battle, there is none of the action the public expects a Western to deliver. Instead, the plot focusses on the characters, and the audience got restless during some of the extended dialogue scenes.

 The companion feature was the comedy JOY OF LIVING, which was chosen mainly because Irene sings four Jerome Kern songs, Lucille Ball and Alice Brady are in the cast, and because of its short length of 85 minutes. Even at that is seems overlong; some very slightly amusing scenes drag on and on, and three of the songs are thrown away with constant attempts on humor which prove unfunny. Yet the audience enjoyed it, and it well demonstrated that Irene Dunne's talent could save an otherwise mediocre vehicle. As there was no known 35mm print of JOY OF LIVING, Dr. Chamberlin received permission from RKO to have a new copy struck from the original nitrate camera negative, which is stored by the American Film Institute's National Film Collection at the Library of Congress in Washington. After the screenings in Los Angeles and San Francisco, the print of JOY OF LIVING was donated to the National Film Collection as a token of gratitude for the invaluable assistance that the AFI and its archivists, Sam Kula and David Shepard, have rendered in the last three years.  

The 1936 version of SHOWBOAT proved to be every bit as sensational as ROBERTA and it came even closer to being lost. MGM (a most cooperative studio in all aspects of this program) checked its vault records and discovered that it had aquired the camera negative to the 1936 production when it purchased the rights to the property from Universal. It was among the 20 features MGM owns that it has yet to preserve on safety film, and the nitrate negative was in badly decomposed state. Both museums agreed to help support the cost of making a new print and MGM's lag went to work. The negative was so badly shrunken that every frame had to be optically enlarged to make the new fine grain print. From that a dupe negative was struck and the soundtrack was re-recorded. It was a most painstaking operation and when the lab checked the print the day before the screening, it was discovered that the first four reels were out of sync in parts. They were hurriedly printed up again, this time in sync, but with a very pale, flat image.

 Nonetheless, SHOWBOAT was an outstanding success. Hundreds were turned away, and those who got in raved about Paul Robeson's brilliant rendition of "Old Man River" and Helen Morgan's stunningly simple "Bill" and "Can't help Lovin' that Man of Mine." Irene Dunne is absolute perfection in the role of Magnolia. She was in her early 30s when SHOWBOAT  was filmed, and up to that time she had always played dignified young matrons on the screen, which had earned her the image of "the great lady." She dispells all of this immediately when she launches into a strange, trucking dance as Hattie McDaniel, Paul Robeson, and Helen Morgan sing the second chorus of "Can't help Lovin' that Man of Mine." The sight of Irene Dunne childishly swaying to and fro is hysterically funny and yet somehow touching. It completely erases any previous image of Irene Dunne as sophisticated lady. Her Magnolia is a prim, willful child, as much ignorant as innocent, coming into the full bloom of womanhood in the second half of the film.

 Leo McCarey wrote the screenplay and produced MY FAVORITE WIFE, and assigned Garson Kanin to direct it. Kanin handled McCarey's unique style of humor skillfully, and the results are only slightly less marvelous than THE AWFUL TRUTH. Miss Dunne recalls, "We were just about to start shooting that when Leo was in a terrible automobile accident, and for a while they didn't know whether he would live of not. We were so worried about him that the first few weeks of shooting were pretty grim, but he recovered and came back to take charge of the cutting and previewing." The picture as released seems to be two-thirds of the story that was shot. In cutting the film, McCarey chose to eleminate some sequences entirely, rather to trim all of them down to give the picture a conventional running time. Going trough Miss Dunne's still collection, I found extensive sequences involving a press conference and a second dinner party to which Randolph Scott was invited. MY FAVORITE WIFE was produced by RKO but is now owned by 20th Century Fox, where one remake was started under the title SOMETHING'S GOT TO GIVE with Marilyn Monroe, and another one with Doris Day and James Garner called MOVE, OVER DARLING was finally released in 1963.

 ANNA AND THE KING OF SIAM was included in our cinematographer's series as tribute to the late Arthur C. Miller, who won the Academy Award for his brilliant photography. Miss Dunne recalls that she turned it down at first, but Darryl Zanuck persisted, and after he enlisted the support of Charles Feldman, Miss Dunne's agent and trusted friend, she relented. "One can't always be the best judge of what to do professionally," said Miss Dunne. "I've always been glad I took Charlie's advice and played Anna." ANNA was withhelf from television until last year to protect the subsequent musical version, THE KING AND I.

 On paper, the plot of PENNY SERENADE seems to be that of a trite sudser, but it is completely redeemed and elevated by the absolute conviction of George Stevens' direction and the performances of Cary Grant and Miss Dunne. Grant's scene, in which he pleads to keep the child he has adopted, is nothing short of masterful, and in my opinion, is the greatest achievement of his entire career. Miss Dunne has a similar bravura moment, but she is extraordinarily effective with her underplaying of emotional scenes other actresses would have handled with elaborate histronics. The understatement of the birthday party sequence, outwardly cheerful but actually tragic, is sublime; the sequence in which Grant and Dunne bring home the newly adopted infant and don't know how to take care of her is hilarious (it was shot in one ten-minute take); the quite desperation on their faces when the child dies is heartbreaking. Stevens makes his characters real and the audience loves them as they become intimately involved in their lives. The younger generation is used to seeing horrible violence in films and can remain unmoved no matter what atrocity is shown on screen. But such compelling delineation of personal tragedy is unbearable, and many college students who came to see PENNY SERENADE expecting to see the usual Grant-Dunne comedy were profoundly shaken at its conclusion.With it we ran the first half hour of THE WHITE CLIFFS OF DOVER. A wartime romance in the Mrs. Miniver vein, it is one of the few Dunne films that seems somewhat dated when viewed in its entirety.

 The final program of the series paired George Stevens' I REMEMBER MAMA  with THEODORA GOES WILD. RKO supplied the shorter reissue version of MAMA, which lacks many of the transition and quiet moments of the full version, yet ironically seems longer and more episodic. Cutting, however, does not diminish the enormous warmth and charm of I REMEMBER MAMA; Miss Dunne's complete transformation into the earthy Norwegian mother, as well as her work in THE MUDLARK, are of such excellence that one regrets she didn't pay any other character parts. DeWitt Bodeen, who wrote MAMA, and Harriet Parsons, who produced it, were the guests of honor that evening. Miss Parsons recalled how she first offered the role to Greta Garbo about the same time David O. Selznick sent her the script of THE PARADINE CASE. Garbo rejected both, saying only, "No mamas, no murderesses."

 The series closed with the rollicking THEODORA GOES WILD, a Columbia low-budgeter that proved to be a real sleeper, and is now regarded by many as one of the classic comedies of the 1930s. This too was withheld from television until last year. Contrary to reports published elsewhere, Miss Dunne says that she did not want to do THEODORA at first, and took a long trip to Europe with her husband, Dr. Francis J. [sic] Griffin, thinking that another actress would surely be cast as Theodora in her absence. But returning, she found that THEODORA  still awaited, and she had to do it. Despite her misgivings, and those of director Richard Boleslawski, it proved to be a wonderful movie and a perfect conclusion to the series.

 The Irene Dunne series proved to be the most popular of all the Los Angeles County Museum of Art has had to date, and the simultaneous series in San Francisco which presented essentially the same program, did very well also. There were, of course, several other excellent Dunne films which time limitations and other logistical considerations prevented us from including. 

 BACK STREET, which was one of Miss Dunne's favorites, was well received when it was presented at this year's New York Film Festival. HIGH WIDE AND HANDSOME  had Miss Dunne playing a traditional operetta heroine with adorable expertise in a vehicle stylishly directed by Rouben Mamoulian. Jerome Kern's "The Folks Who Live on the Hill" and "Can I Forget You" (staged in an arena with Irene surrounded by torches) are beautifully sung by Miss Dunne, and her duet of "Allengheny Al" with Dorothy Lamour gave her a rare chance to show how well she could handle boisterous material. SWEET ADELINE is sillier, but Miss Dunne is beautifully photographed as she sings "Why Was I Born" and "Don't Ever Leave Me." The two films which immediately followed CIMARRON, BACHELOR APARTMENT and THE GREAT LOVER, are unfunny sex farces. When I told Miss Dunne that I had screened them she shook her head and said, "Oh, what you must suffer because of me. THE SILVER CORD was a pretty good picture; STINGAREE and AGE OF INNOCENCE were all right," she'll admit. But she groans when I mention ANN VICKERS, 13 WOMEN, and THIS MAN IS MINE. 

 Irene Dunne today is virtually the same woman that millions of moviegoers fell in love with thirty over thirty years ago. She is funny, brilliant, and yet somehow wistful. She is always kind and always honest, and if she is talking about something and honesty and kindness come into conflict, she'll stutter for a seconde or two, trying to reconcile them. When she can't, kindness always wins out.

 She still sings all the time, and as beautifully as ever. She is slender as a Vogue model and her face looks only a dozen years older than that of the seductive siren in THE AWFUL TRUTH. Of all the luminaries of the past, Irene Dunne is by far the best equipped to continue her career right where she left off. Will she ever make another picture? She easily could, and she really should, but I very much doubt that she ever would.

 Irene Dunne acted most recently on a G.E. Theatre TV show about ten years ago. When I asked her if she considered herself retired, she replied, "Well, my brother Charles asked me if I had stopped smoking. I said 'No, but I'm not smoking now.' Well, I'm not acting now. If something came along that was very challenging and rewarding, I might do it. I like to act, but I don't have to act to be happy. When I first started, I did five pictures in one year, and there was so much else I could have been doing." After 1935, Miss Dunne scaled her movie activities down to two films a year; after 1941 she maintained her stardom with only one picture a year, while some her contemporaries were grinding our four and five. She had married Dr. Griffin in 1927; in 1936 he retired from the practice of dentistry to manage her investments and they adopted their daughter Mary Frances.

 Miss Dunne has always known she could be excellent in a good vehicle, but she would rather not act at all than settle for being good in a mediocre picture. Nor would she have measured up to her own high standards had she limited herself to being a movie star when she had interests and talents in so many other fields. In the 1940s, her layovers between pictures became longer and longer, and Miss Dunne turned her attentions increasingly to raising her daughter, business, politics, charity and the pursuit of knowledge.

 IT GROWS ON TREES in 1952 was a real dud, and without formally deciding to retire, Irene Dunne hasn't made a picture since. Certainly some of the countless projects she has been offered must have come up to her high standards, but she was just too busy, and enjoying what she was doing too much, to consider them. She was an expert golfer, and played frequentely with her husband, but when his heart condition caused him to give it up, she stopped playing too. As his health declined, she withdrew from her outside activities and spent all of her time with him. Dr. Griffin died in 1965, and although his widow was grief-stricken, she carried on. Miss Dunne moved the offices of their corporation (which has real estate holdings throughout the Southwest United States) into her home. Taking care of the business, continuing her many charitable affairs and minding her two grandchildren (who live nearby and often come to stay for a while), her schedule today is even more exhausting than when she was acting.

 Politically she is less active today than at some times in the past. Always a staunch Republican, she is quick to dissasociate herself from Hollywood's extremely conservative clan, and a few weeks ago she told a reporter, "The extreme right is just as dangerous as the extreme left." Her passion for travel causes her to take many trips every year, and her thirst for knowledge in all fields makes her read voraciously whenever she gets the opportunity. 

 So I very reluctantly admit that although producers continue to ask Irene Dunne to make another picture, she probably will never find the time. Even though her outside activities made her pictures comparatively few and far between, they undoubtedly enriched her as an actress, as well as a person. Having just seen all of her "lost" films, I can say with certainty that Irene Dunne's film career was one of the few which fulfilled all of its varied possibilities, giving American motion pictures an actress of classic beauty, humor and intelligence.