By Myself and Then Some (15 page)

He told me what he wanted to do – a simple test. He’d pick the scenes. He couldn’t have been nicer. And he frightened me – I was terrified I’d say the wrong thing. We finished lunch and headed back to Charlie’s office. I shall never forget walking behind Charlie and Howard, who were talking and talking and taking forever to walk one block. I thought then, ‘God, why don’t they move? Do they always walk so slow?’ I was trained in the speed school of the East, where there was never time to do all you wanted to do, so you always walked quickly – just short of a run, as though you had a real destination. I could have walked ten blocks in the time they took to walk one. Well, I’d better get used to it. My future was in the hands of these two men.

Back in Charlie’s office Hawks asked me if there were any particular parts I would feel comfortable playing for the test. I couldn’t think of any, I told him – I had been asked to understudy Claudia on tour, but hadn’t accepted. I would prefer to leave it up to him. I was taken back to Westwood with nothing to do for the rest of the day. I walked around more of the village, then wrote about ten letters home.

I thought about Hawks and what an odd person he seemed to be. He was not a demonstrative, relaxed sort of man. He was inscrutable, speaking quietly in a fairly monotonous voice. He seemed very sure of himself. Charlie called me at day’s end to tell me that Howard liked me and that we would make the test the following Friday.

The sun shone every day. The most perfect weather I had ever known. Balmy air, incredible clear blue skies. Everyone seemed to have a car. As I was beginning to find out, life in California was impossible without one.

I waited around the office for Charlie, talked to some of the other
agents; in a couple of days I became a regular fixture in that office. When Charlie came in I would ask for news of the test. When would I know what the scene would be? When would I see Hawks? He said. ‘Take it easy’ and laughed at my impatience. I always wanted to know everything right away, no horsing around. Charlie said I’d see Howard on Monday – the weekend was coming up and no one did anything on a weekend. He took me out for an early dinner one night and asked if I’d like to come up to his house on Sunday for lunch and the afternoon. Absolutely, I said, how would I get there? ‘I’ll come and get you, of course.’ It was beginning to get to me, always having to depend on someone else for transportation. In Westwood, having no car was impossible – I was stranded.

Back in my room I’d carry on conversations with Charlie before the proverbial mirror. I had a terrible crush on him. He had a wife, but I thought their life together must be odd if he could have dinner without her. My idea of marriage was that a husband and wife did everything together from the end of a workday on. I had a lot to learn.

Mother called me on Saturday morning, anxious to hear everything. She felt so far away, she
was
so far away, but I couldn’t tell her anything definite. It’s always difficult to explain delays, what takes time. Especially when you’re not sure yourself.

On Sunday Charlie took me to his house. It was on Coldwater Canyon, which is still Beverly Hills but not the flats. The house couldn’t be seen from the street. He brought me out to the poolside, where his wife, Jean, was sitting. She was beautiful – blond hair, dressed in gold gabardine slacks, a white silk shirt, and three strands of pearls. She was very friendly and open. How could Charlie not have dinner with her every night? The house was marvelous. Spanish, all on one floor, beautifully and comfortably furnished. Outside up some steps was the pool and poolhouse. Did people really live like this?

We had lunch outside. What total luxury! To have your meals out of doors in the sunshine. It was God’s country.

Jean had been a Ziegfeld girl when she was very young and, I was later to learn, had had many men at her feet. Understandable. Of course I told her all my hopes and dreams – that I prayed the test would take place soon because patience was not my strong point. She was reassuring, knew how hard it was to be in California and not know anyone – I was to feel always welcome there, call on her anytime.

The next ten days were endless. On the phone at least once a day to Charlie, so frustrated – postponement after postponement. One letter to my mother dated April 15:

And on April 21:

I had seen Howard a couple of times more. I read scenes for him. He took me to lunch and told me about his directing experiences with various actresses. It was always what he said to them, or to Howard Hughes, to Jack Warner – he always came out on top, he always won. He was mesmerizing and I believed every story he told me. Once he made some remark about a Jew and I turned cold. I’m sure I paled visibly, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘Oh, no, don’t let him be anti-Semitic. God, don’t let me come all this way and have it blow up in my face. It just couldn’t happen now.’

I told Charlie about it. ‘What will I do when he finds out? What will
he
do?’ Charlie laughed and said, ‘Howard just talks. Don’t worry about it, he and I are friends, have been for years.’ They didn’t move in the same social circle, however. I was panic-stricken.

The day before my test I was driven out to the Warner Bros. studio to see Howard and Perc Westmore, head of the make-up department. After all this waiting, something was going to happen at last. Driving to Warner Bros., new territory for me – Sunset Boulevard, the Strip, with its famous nightclubs, restaurants, Schwab’s drugstore, where Lana Turner was supposed to have been discovered, along Highland Avenue to Burbank down a curved road to WARNER BROS. printed in large black letters on buildings (which turned out to be sound stages) on
enormous billboards, to the main gate. Here was the home of Bette Davis, Muni, Flynn, Sheridan, Cagney, Bogart, Greenstreet, Lorre – the list was long. There were many separate buildings looking like houses which turned out to be executive offices, dressing rooms, makeup department, music cutting rooms, wardrobe. The car stopped at a small house with the name HOWARD HAWKS hanging over the door like a doctor’s shingle. Opposite him was another bungalow with the name HAL B. WALLIS on it. I was led into Hawks’ outer office and announced by a secretary. The inner door opened and out Howard came with a smile. He put his arm around me and said, ‘You’re going to make your test with a young man named Charles Drake. You’ll meet him after lunch and we can go over the scene.’ Howard had decided that
Claudia
was right for me, so we were doing a scene from it. He walked me over to make-up so that Perc Westmore could have a look at me and said, ‘You know, Perc, the test is tomorrow morning, see what color Betty will need, and that’s all.’ Westmore took me into his room, sat me before his make-up mirror, and examined my face. He said, ‘Ummhumm’ and pushed my hair back. ‘We can pluck your eyebrows and shave your hairline, straighten your teeth.’ I was terrified and very upset. I said I’d like to call Howard, which I did practically in tears and repeated it all. I said, ‘You don’t want that, do you?’ He said absolutely not and spoke to Westmore, saying, ‘I want her exactly as she is, nothing changed, a light natural make-up for tomorrow.’ Perc understood, he only thought some of those touches would be an improvement. But no, Howard had chosen me for my thick eyebrows and crooked teeth and that’s the way they would stay.

I went back to Howard’s bungalow and he took me down the street to the green room for lunch. The green room was for the actors – round tables, walls adorned with large photographs of the stars. It was full. Next to the green room was a large commissary for crew, extras, etc. There was also a large dining room at the end of the lot where the brothers Warner and their producers ate. Wherever I went around the studio my head was on a swivel. This was where movies were made. There was so much to absorb. It looked almost like a private home in parts – trees, lawns. It was so much more complicated than I had thought, so much grander.

Howard told me that make-up people were used to doing someone over, that Perc was very good at his job but just had to be told. ‘He
probably thought I wanted you to look like Dietrich. If they try anything tomorrow – to change your hair or anything – don’t let them. Tell them I want you to look just the way you do now.’ I was relieved. Of course Howard knew how frightened I had been. What would they have done if I hadn’t called him?

We went back to Howard’s office, where tall, blond, handsome Charles Drake was waiting. He was a young hopeful at Warners – Howard had used him in
Air Force
. We went into Howard’s office and read the script – I knew it, actually. Of course I was nervous. It was strange to play a scene with a complete stranger. I was trying to impress him, to impress Howard. Howard gave me a little direction along the way, we didn’t make any physical moves, but he talked about interpretation. Finally he said, ‘Okay, you’d better go home, study and get a good night’s sleep. You’ll have a long day tomorrow.’

I thanked him and thanked Charles Drake and was driven back to Charlie’s office, a complete and utter wreck. I was to stay the night at Jean and Charlie’s and be picked up the next morning at 7:30, so I went back to my hotel, got my toothbrush and pajamas (I always wore pajamas), and was taken back to the office, where I studied my scene until Charlie had to go home. It was hard to keep my mind off the importance of the following morning. Would I be good enough, would Howard like me? ‘Think of the scene, remember what Howard told you when you rehearsed it in his office.’ I could only do my best. But what if my best wasn’t good enough? Like all things in my life, it became crucial, a matter of life or death. I’ve never understood less than an extreme. I somehow got through dinner with Charlie and Jean, though I couldn’t eat. They both kept telling me, ‘You’re in the best possible hands with Howard. He wants it to be good, he will take enormous care. Don’t
worry!
It’s going to be all right.’ God, how I must have bored them.

Jean took me to the spare room where I was to spend my last hours. The next day the long, slow march would begin – the switch would be pulled. I kept repeating the scene over and over to the mirror, the wall; my stomach was jumping so, I felt so sick, I had to crawl to the bathroom to throw up. Did everyone go through this, or was it just me?

Back to bed, mind racing – it would not stop. Howard’s face flashing before me – what did he really think? And the Jewish business? If I was asked I’d have to tell the truth. Coward! It’s awful to be so frightened.
I finally went to sleep. A knock on the door – 7:15 already. I jumped up, threw cold water on my face, quickly dressed, grabbed my script and was ready. I wanted to get to the studio, start to work. I loved to act – it was just that this was a whole new thing to me – I’d learn the methods – ‘Don’t panic – don’t panic.’ Jean had slipped a good-luck note from her and Charlie under my door. I walked out the front door into the sleeping world. It was so peaceful – morning dew, sunshine, birds – a beautiful day. Would it be a lucky one?

The studio car was waiting – I was on my way – over Mulholland Drive down to the San Fernando Valley to Warner Bros. I was taken back to that make-up department. My hair was washed and set and I was put under the dryer. Someone brought me a cup of coffee. There was a lot of activity in the make-up department between seven and nine. All actors working in the movies being shot were there. All the leading actors. A shooting day begins at 9:00 a.m. and ends at 6:00 p.m. I was introduced to Dennis Morgan, Gary Cooper, Ann Sheridan. It was exciting to see those stars getting ready for work – exciting just to see them.

At about nine o’clock I was taken out from under the dryer and sent to Perc Westmore’s room to be made up. He was doing Ann Sheridan, so I had to wait awhile – tests came second to actual filming. Finally Perc was ready. I sat in that chair again and he started on me. He was very friendly, but I don’t think overly pleased with not being allowed to redesign my face. He said, ‘Wouldn’t you like your eyebrows a little thinner and rounded? I think they’d look much better, no one on screen has eyebrows as thick and angular as yours.’ I said, ‘No – Howard wants it this way. Perhaps he’ll want to make some changes later.’ (But I didn’t believe that – the way I was was the way I was and nothing would really change that.) He did put false eyelashes on me, which I hated. I asked him to cut them – I wanted them shorter than my own so they’d never be seen – but he left them a little longer. He said they would help.

Then my hair had to be combed out. Everything took much longer than it was meant to, particularly the first day. I was afraid my hair would be too curly. No one had ever set it before – I always did it myself, I was used to it. And I wanted the wave in the right place on the right side – starting to curve at the corner of my eyebrow and ending, sloping downward, at my cheekbone. Of course it
was
too
curly, my hair always acted up when I didn’t want it to. I was getting more and more nervous.

Finally they were finished. The sound stage, Stage 12 (they were all numbered), was enormous. Going through a door that says DO NOT
ENTER WHEN RED LIGHT IS ON,
which means that filming is in progress. I entered this dimly lit stage and saw Howard. He kissed me on the cheek, said, ‘You look good, how do you feel?’ ‘Terrified,’ said I, ‘nervous.’ There was a camera, but not like the Rolleiflexes I had known, rather, a large apparatus with a seat behind it which moved. And a cameraman and quite a few other men in the area – the ‘crew.’ They had been lighting another girl – ‘Have I been replaced already? Don’t panic’ – who turned out to be a stand-in for me. So many strange people – so many new faces – so much equipment for this one scene between two people. Finally Howard said, ‘Okay, let’s try a take.’ Please, God, don’t let me be sick. Howard was marvelous – spoke softly, trying to soothe me and get the best out of me. I felt as secure with him as was possible for me to feel, given the circumstances. A letter dated May 3 to my mother: