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| The last Claire McCardell garment. Hard to see, but this also has a diaper bottom. Strange. Courtesy of the Met. |
Tweeting today: "Medley Toot Suite," Duke Ellington.
People Are Talking About . . . although the party's almost over . . . "The high comedy in which Shaw's Heartbreak House is played, with Maurice Evans silver bearded, his feet shuffling in embroidered carpet slippers, inducing everyone in his odd house to tell all, including the truth." Wait a sec, Vogue, I don't know this play, but from this blurb, all I can think is that people hear the shuffling and break down and confess. Go on. "It is a disconcerting analysis, particularly to his younger daughter, played with shining, rare style by Pamela Brown, who believes that all that is needed for the healthy life is horses: 'Go anywhere in England, where there are natural, wholesome, contented and really nice English people. . . the stables are the real centre of the household. . . .There are only two classes in good society in England: the equestrian classes and the neurotic classes.'" Ba BOOM.
We are talking about the little picture above the lyrics (which belong to a blurb some pages back, featuring Robert Morse, which has generated the least interest of anything yet appearing here. It's not one of the worst posts - it has Robert Morse!)
This is a very weird photo -if that's what it even is. First - the man is a dead ringer for my next-door neighbor, hard of hearing, movie mad, who has startled most of my visitors. Conversation stops and we wait for the hill to be stormed, the outpost taken, the steamy sex to run its course. Once it was Sid and Nancy. Now that other neighbors have complained and he uses earphones, I miss the company. I swear that's Robert in the picture.
Well, it's supposed to be Bernard Shaw - or Shaw. If I write Bernard Shaw, it may seem like I think his first name is Bernard, so let's stick to GBS. The play doesn't seem to have been a "high comedy." It's about silly old England going to it's doom and good riddance to the whole pack of ninnies. So-so review.
As soon as I looked up Pamela Brown and saw this photo, I knew exactly who she was (and possibly not the person in the Vogue photo.)
She had a supporting role in I Know Where I'm Going, a Michael Powell-Emeric Pressburger movie of 1945. It's sort of like I Capture the Castle, and not just in the structure of the title. Go see it!
At first I couldn't place Maurice Evans. Vaguely figured he was a Shakespearean actor - aren't they all? In addition to the vast amount of American television he did . . . I had the good fortune to see him in this, at the drive-in when it first came out:
Tomorrow: the next page! We did it!
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