Fay Wray in It Happened in Hollywood. She's broke, so she wears it constantly, but I love love love this outfit.
Many films, especially Hollywood products, allow viewers to escape their drab lives and immerse themselves in another (often more glamorous) reality. It Happened in Hollywood, on the other hand, shows you the underside of the movie biz right at the peak of the studio era. Richard Dix plays a cowboy hero on the silver screen who can't make the leap into talking pictures and Fay Wray is his leading woman whose career is slowly fizzling into oblivion. Morally opposed to playing gangsters (the studio's remaining offer), Dix decides to pack it in but his transition back to ordinary life is interrupted when a hero-worshiping kid appears on his doorstep. Dix attempts one last hurrah by hosting a big blow-out party for the kid, Billy, at the ranch he used to own during his heyday. In an effort to impress the child on a limited budget, Dix invites a host of impersonators of famous Hollywood stars, who manage to fool Billy into believing he's dining with the crème de la crème of the movie industry.
Now, impersonators. I have not yet been able to locate much biographical information about the impersonators in It Happened in Hollywood (I'm very curious about Carol Dietrich!), but some sites have indicated that the actors filling these roles were in fact the industry doubles or stand-ins for the stars. What a wonderful, weird, underbelly that's not often talked about yet alone depicted onscreen. Stars need fill-ins? Even today they don't often admit they need them, as if it's embarrassing to admit that there might be someone else out there that physically resembles you but is worth less and can be paid to stand on a mark for hours, or maybe jump out of a plane for you, because it's cheaper. I remember one distinct description of a double and that is of Bruce Willis' (an apparent life-long colleague to Willis); he is discussed in Julie Salomon's The Devil's Candy: The Bonfire of the Vanities Goes to Hollywood. To imitate someone whose entire self is a brand, to dress like them, affect their mannerisms, to use their catch-phrases -- can there be any profession more debasing than to completely sink one's own identity and adopt another's? Even when delightful and impressive, there's always something just slightly off, even off-putting, about observing an impersonator. We scrutinize them for flaws and inaccuracies. Failing pretty badly at 1930s movie trivia, I couldn't identify half of the impersonators in It Happened in Hollywood. The May West double (she even gets a bit of dialogue) was terrible but I couldn't take my eyes off the Chaplin one because he was just spot-on. Anyway, happy whatever, Billy - here's a pile of second-rate imitations! Luckily Billy gets conked out in a subsequent scene and seems to have been impressed enough and polite enough a child not to ask for anything in addition to the single, "star"-filled lunch.
This is from The Samuel Fuller Collection box set which contains quite a number of films where he contributed to the script (as in It Happened in Hollywood) however, if you're looking for films he may have directed (you know, like sitting in a director's chair, like in the cover art on this box set) and upon which he made a firm stamp, watch out because this collection does not include many of those.
Now, impersonators. I have not yet been able to locate much biographical information about the impersonators in It Happened in Hollywood (I'm very curious about Carol Dietrich!), but some sites have indicated that the actors filling these roles were in fact the industry doubles or stand-ins for the stars. What a wonderful, weird, underbelly that's not often talked about yet alone depicted onscreen. Stars need fill-ins? Even today they don't often admit they need them, as if it's embarrassing to admit that there might be someone else out there that physically resembles you but is worth less and can be paid to stand on a mark for hours, or maybe jump out of a plane for you, because it's cheaper. I remember one distinct description of a double and that is of Bruce Willis' (an apparent life-long colleague to Willis); he is discussed in Julie Salomon's The Devil's Candy: The Bonfire of the Vanities Goes to Hollywood. To imitate someone whose entire self is a brand, to dress like them, affect their mannerisms, to use their catch-phrases -- can there be any profession more debasing than to completely sink one's own identity and adopt another's? Even when delightful and impressive, there's always something just slightly off, even off-putting, about observing an impersonator. We scrutinize them for flaws and inaccuracies. Failing pretty badly at 1930s movie trivia, I couldn't identify half of the impersonators in It Happened in Hollywood. The May West double (she even gets a bit of dialogue) was terrible but I couldn't take my eyes off the Chaplin one because he was just spot-on. Anyway, happy whatever, Billy - here's a pile of second-rate imitations! Luckily Billy gets conked out in a subsequent scene and seems to have been impressed enough and polite enough a child not to ask for anything in addition to the single, "star"-filled lunch.
This is from The Samuel Fuller Collection box set which contains quite a number of films where he contributed to the script (as in It Happened in Hollywood) however, if you're looking for films he may have directed (you know, like sitting in a director's chair, like in the cover art on this box set) and upon which he made a firm stamp, watch out because this collection does not include many of those.
Just look at that imitation Joe E Brown wolf down ice cream!
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