Brass Diva: The Life and Legends of Ethel Merman (55 page)

Zanuck was certain Ray would give the film some needed appeal to
younger audiences. Lang was less convinced, writing Ethel from his recovery
bed: "J. Ray would play the priest but I am secretly hoping that something
happens where we won't have to use him at all. However, he might be good
in that part since I understand he is something of a religious fanatic."25 Ray
had a nasal speaking voice and a weak, rather awkward presence when not
singing, and in the final picture, he rarely looks comfortable.

Marilyn Monroe was added late in the game. Initially, O'Connor's love interest had been written with Gaynor in mind in a pairing that would have
been easily convincing. But once Fox settled on Gaynor as his sister, the role
of the girlfriend opened up for Monroe-or someone like her-and things
changed. The first reference to Monroe actually appears in the January 1953
draft: "Tim is having himself a time with a curvaceous Mona Dawn star, a
Marilyn Monroe of the 193os."26 Different tales relate how Monroe finally
won the part. One attributes the choice to Berlin, who had seen a photograph
of her at the home of Fox executive and fellow New Yorker Joe Schenck.
Berlin's biographer writes, "He was seized with the inspiration that just as
Merman had personified the thirties in Alexander's Ragtime Band ... Monroe could enliven this cavalcade and bring it into the spirit of the fifties. He
insisted that Schenck call Monroe, even though it was two in the morning."17
Monroe, however, was not even remotely interested and accepted the part
only after Zanuck offered her the lead in Billy Wilder's upcoming sex comedy, The Seven Year Itch. (Like Merman, Monroe shines less brightly without
a solo spotlight. And like Merman, she knew it.)

Once Marilyn was signed on, the writers toned down the role of Tim's
girlfriend. Before, she had undergone various permutations that all added up
to the same thing: a floozy. Initially, she was the punningly named "Mona Dawn," then a hard-boiled "Peggy," and then "Lilly Sawyer," a woman who
had been "married three times and divorced once"-so Molly wouldn't need
to worry if Tim proposed to her, according to the script.28 Her final incarnation was as the sexy and ambitious, but ultimately harmless and wholesome,
singer, Vicky Parker.

Costumes were by the beloved and respected Broadway and Hollywood
talent Miles White, whose credits included Broadway's original productions
of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Pal Joey. Ethel adored his work, and the two
developed a cordial relationship; Monroe, on the other hand, refused to be
outfitted by him, bringing in (William) Travilla to do her outfits. White did
everyone else's. The behind-the-scenes battle is actually referenced in the
movie, when Vicky refuses to wear a fourteen-hundred-dollar purple dress
that had been designed for her.

Rounding out the talent was Bob Alton, also retained from Call Me
Madam. Zanuck had considered assigning Jack Cole as choreographer but
preferred Alton, "because there must be a nostalgic quality to the numbers
and there must be nothing that looks too very sophisticated or that resembles 'fantasy.' 1129 There's No Business Like Show Business was one of the last
jobs Alton did in his career, which was cut short by his early death. Ethel had
worked with Jack Cole on Something for the Boys. Monroe had just completed
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes with him, and once again she was emphatic: she
would not work with Robert Alton on There's No Business Like Show Business, persuading Fox to procure Jack Cole to choreograph her numbers only,
giving her work an entirely different feel from everyone else's.

Production started in the spring of 1954. Although the film had been hurt
by Lang's medical problems and Trotti's death-not to mention the writers'
and Sol Siegel's lack of conviction-the actual production went smoothly.
Ethel wrote in her memoirs that there was "little emotional stress and strain
involved in working in a Walter Lang picture-you're surrounded by people
you like."30 Only a few complications came into play: Gaynor sprained her
ankle and couldn't dance for several days. Ethel had to take time off to "stave
off an appendectomy. '131 (Fresh from doing Person to Person with her, Edward
Murrow sent roses.) O'Connor-who had been so ill on White Christmas
that producers replaced him at the last minute with Danny Kaye-missed
only a few days' work.

Then there was Marilyn Monroe, whose "difficult" behavior on set was already legendary. On this project, she did not endear herself to colleagues,
keeping to herself and complaining openly about being paired with O'Connor, whose small frame and youthful looks, she claimed, "would make people think I was his mother." (Monroe was a year younger than he.) In
"Lazy," a number she performs with O'Connor and Gaynor, Monroe defied
directions to do it barefoot, insisting on high heels that made her tower over
her male costar.

Decades later, Gaynor said, "[Marilyn] didn't seem to be aware of the
rest of us." She went on to describe what happened before one of her
lunches with Ethel: "One day we asked [Marilyn] if she'd have lunch with
us. She said, `No, I'm going to have lunch off the lot.' She seemed very
moody and depressed. When she came back after lunch she was smiling
and friendly and said, `Hi!' to everybody. Ethel said, `Girl, do you know
what happened? Why, she went home and had lunch with Joe!"132 Thirty
years later, in Bob Thomas's biography on Merman, Gaynor said that those
naughty stories were how she "managed" Ethel's growing impatience with
Monroe. "I found a way to keep Ethel cool.... Whenever Marilyn
wouldn't come out of her dressing room, I gave Ethel a wink, hinting that
something naughty was going on in there. Of course that wasn't true, but
if Ethel thought maybe some hanky-panky was going on, she could enjoy
the situation."33

The press circulated endless reports about the young star: Marilyn was collapsing on the set, was not showing up, was not releasing her phone number
to the studio. Her husband at the time, baseball legend Joe DiMaggio, had
to accompany her, both to quell rumors of their spatting and to lend her
moral support. When he posed in photos with Ethel on the set, one gossip
columnist speculated that he had been more eager to come and watch her,
not his wife.34 Monroe's moods swerved from one extreme to the other. Some
days she was garrulous and charming, but most of the time she kept to herself. Merman and Gaynor eventually gave up asking her to lunch.

Reports flew that Monroe was too fragile, too tough, too combative, too
scared. Apparently she was at once too cold and too hot for the crew to handle. (Nonessential personnel were sent away when some of her dance numbers were filmed.) Such was the press that wanted to keep Marilyn Monroe
as the too-much-for-mere-mortals icon she had already been made into. Unsurprisingly, lines in the final movie serve up that Monroe to audiences:
When Tim meets Vicky at the hatcheck room where the aspiring singer
works, she speaks in heavily studied elocution, and he jokes, "Once again,
more from the chest." Then, "Tell me, what's a girl with such pear-shaped
tones doing checking hats?" (Censors warned that that line "should not be
delivered in such a way as to indicate that the pear shaped tones are her
breasts." )35

The Dress That Broke the Censor's Back

Even though Hollywood's Production Code was losing its teeth in the 1950s,
Fox still submitted material to the Breen office for approval during early
stages of film production. This included lyrics to Berlin's new numbers,
"After You Get What You Want You Don't Want It," "Lazy," and "A Man
Chases a Girl," to be sung by Monroe, along with "Heat Wave," the 1931
number whose lyrics had been changed for Ethel's rendition of it in Alexander's Ragtime Band, when thermometers peaked from the waving of a
woman's feet, not her seat.

Religion proved a dicier issue. As Steve, Johnnie Ray celebrates his departure for religious studies by performing a rock-gospel ballad, "IfYou Believe,"
a number ideally suited to his performance style. The subsequent ordination
scene generated a barrage of letters back and forth between Breen's office and
the studio, and Fox brought in a Catholic authority to supervise the scene for
accurate and respectful treatment. Lines had to be changed, particularly when
Steve tells his parents that he's leaving the act to become a cardinal. Terry's response was modified from "The only Cardinal I want in this family is one that
plays ball with St. Louis!" to "the only Cardinal I expected to see."

There were other concerns. "As we interpret it, the character of Geoffrey
[the designer with whom Vicky spats] would appear to be suggestive of a
pansy. We are sure you realize we cannot approve a characterization of this
kind."36 (This was hardly the only gay moment in the picture, just one that
they caught.)37

One of the most ironic battles in the filming of There's No Business Like
Show Business involved Merman and Marilyn, but probably neither of them
knew anything about it. In April and May 1954, Fox submitted photographs
of their planned costumes for the approval of the censorship board. The
board approved a chorus girl's outfit that consisted of a sequined bra, exposed
midriff, and high heels, as well as an outfit for Vicky (for "After You Get. . . "),
a risque form-fitting flesh-colored dress with design work strategically placed
at the tips of the breasts. Gathered satin material was placed at the hips to
cover some of that area, although it didn't hide the skirt's slit to the upper
thigh. The studio's caption: "The cloth of the garment which fully covers
Miss Monroe's torso under the net is a heavy flesh colored crepe which is in
no sense transparent. "31 Approval was not a problem.

A glossy of Merman posing in a matronly but dazzling "black evening
gown, feather skirt" was also submitted. Responded Breen's office, "While
this photograph itself does not indicate any unacceptable exposure of the lady's body, the costume is one that could possibly become troublesome....
We therefore respectfully urge that you handle the photographing of the costume with the possibility in mind that it could result in unacceptable breast
exposure which we would be unable to approve in the finished picture."39
Only in Hollywood could Marilyn Monroe be passed for approval but Ethel
Merman be deemed indecent.

Shining Star

Although Merman is not as central to the movie's story as she was to
Madam's, she is almost as commanding a presence. Part of this is due to what
she doesn't do well, relinquishing the spotlight, and in that regard she is every
bit Marilyn's match. In her numbers with Dan Dailey ("Midnight Train," the
kitsched-up "Alexander's Ragtime Band") and with Mitzi Gaynor ("A
Sailor's Not a Sailor ..."), Merman injects a firm comic touch, and their upbeat, in-your-face energy is a study in contrasts with Monroe, who performs
as if on drugs, with "Lazy" accentuating her languorous style. (She performs
the piece reclining on a couch.) Since There's No Business Like Show Business
is about show business, most of the numbers are very stagey, and the cast, especially Merman and Dailey, were directed to ham it up, just as they might
have done in their early stage careers. That energy and sense of fun are
contagious; one film viewer wrote that it's the "old timers" like Merman and
Dailey who always "mop up the proceedings" in '5os musicals like this.40
Theater historian John Clum takes a different view:

The film offers one of the weirdest smorgasbords of performing styles of any
fifties musical.... The camera avoids close-ups-this is a Cinemascope
movie-which benefits Merman. She can perform as if she were on stage. The
dialogue scenes are another matter. Merman has a veteran stage performer's
habit of looking straight ahead when listening or talking to another character.... With Merman's indifferent but loud line delivery, Monroe's offbeat delivery with her eyes moving back and forth as if she thought someone would
pull a gun on her, and Johnnie Ray's spacy, Smiley acting ... combined with
the chronic perkiness of O'Connor and Gaynor, this is a camp classic.41

Camp or not, Ethel radiates when performing "There's No Business Like
Show Business" at the finale. (Ironically, it was not the studio's first choice of numbers; "God Bless America" had been.) It was, of course, Merman's
anthem as much as Berlin's, and in this way she lays claim to the entire picture, and it is one of her best performances captured on film. She is completely on voice, sustaining notes without sliding off pitch, performing
with vocal force and clarity, considerable chest depth, and control. Most
striking, however, is the emotional depth of the performance, and what she
creates is more than her usual vitality and spirit, for she is also able to convey the sadness that usually lurks behind the task of "going on with the
show." ("There is no such a thing as the show must go on, but you have to
go on," as Roger Edens said.)42 Ethel channels the loss Molly experiences
as a mother, doing so with a song that normally does not lend itself to
pathos. We catch the choked-up joy Molly feels when her eye catches her
lost son and husband in the wings. Molly/Merman doesn't miss a beat, but
it is hard for the audience not to, if only for a moment. It is a shining example of Merman performing while vocalizing, and her work here as both
vocalist and actor gives a hint of the power she would bring to her role in
Gypsy five years later.

While the film was being shot during the spring of 1954, Bobby and Ethel
Jr. visited their mother when they could get away from school. But what to
do over the summer? The estranged Bob Sr. stepped in. A confirmed Manhattanite, Levitt rented a house north of the city in Rye, New York, so that
Ethel and Bobby could spend the warm summer months with him. Ethel
knew that this was a sacrifice and appreciated it, joking that Levitt "refused
to move any farther up than Seventieth Street.... so leasing a house as far
north as Rye was like renting a sod cottage on the tundra to him; it was quite
a gesture."43