I Love the Illusion: The Life and Career of Agnes Moorehead (39 page)

At home in 1963.

Agnes and her frequent stage co-star, Charles
Boyer.

Lord Pengo
was based on the
true story of art dealer Sir
Joseph Duveen and his attempts
to establish a national gallery of
art, as well as his rocky relationship with his son, who Pengo
wishes to follow in his footsteps. The young man has a
mind of his own, however, and
wants to be an abstract painter
rather than an art dealer. Paul
Gregory hired the noted playwright S.N. Behrman to write
the script and veteran Vincent
Donehue to direct. For the
pivotal role of Lord Pengo, Paul
had only one actor in mind all
along and that was Charles
Boyer. As Pengo’s son, Derek,
Gregory cast Brian Bedford.
Agnes was cast as Pengo’s loyal

secretary who never deserts him and may have been secretly in love with
him. The cast also included Henry Daniell, and, fresh off
Camelot,
actor
Laurie Main.

To this day Gregory considers
Pengo
“a very satisfying show.” Even
though Behrman was getting on in years and “didn’t want to do a lot of
rewrites,” and Boyer “didn’t want to learn any new lines,” Gregory loved
working with them, calling Boyer “a wonderful man and a marvelous actor
— one of the best” and that Behrman “enriched my life.” As for Agnes, Paul
contends that she was “very excited about the show,” but insisted on having
billing equal with Boyer’s — above the title. Boyer was fond of Agnes, but
when Paul went to Charles about Agnes’ demand, the Frenchman put his
foot down. “Boyer wouldn’t let her,” Paul recalls. “Really, her part as the
loyal secretary didn’t call for it either. Charles said, ‘Give her as big of
billing as she would like
UNDER
the title.’” Paul contends that Aggie
occasionally “seemed to care more about her billing than the part,” and, as
late as 1973, when she did
Gigi
on Broadway, Paul maintains that “she
would bitch to me about not being billed above the title. Sometimes she
never let her talent take the
front seat — too often her ego
did.” Paul may have suffered a
memory lapse regarding
Gigi
since Agnes is billed above the
title and is, in fact, second only
to Alfred Drake. Still, one can’t
blame Agnes for trying. Why is
it that Agnes is faulted for
caring more about billing than
the part when Boyer, himself,
insisted on solo billing above
the title? Nevertheless, Boyer
did keep his solo billing.

The part of Miss Swanson, to
be honest, was not a stellar one.
The character could be considered
“long suffering” and cosmetic
with no real depth of her own
and used mainly as a sounding
board for Pengo. Paul and
Agnes realized this and Paul, in a letter sent along with the script in July
1962, acknowledges its shortcomings and promised to beef it up: “By no
means is it all I hoped for from the standpoint of Miss Swanson; however,
I think you will be able to do marvelous things with it. And further, before
we even get into rehearsal I feel there will be additions which will strengthen
considerably your part as well as the whole play . . . In the meantime, keep
the pot boiling. You know I love you, dear Aggie, and please know the only
real pleasure I get in all of this hectic carry-on is greatly related to the fact
that I know of your devotion, which helps more than I can say.” The script
was indeed punched up, but not by the degree which would enhance Agnes’
part substantially.

During rehearsals for
Lord Pengo,
Aggie befriended the likable British
actor Laurie Main, who was cast as Boyer’s valet. Main had just come off a
successful run in
Camelot
and found that Agnes had seen him in that play
and was highly complimentary of his performance. “During the
Pengo
rehearsals we gravitated toward one another.” They would often go out to
dinner together and found that they shared an interest in books. In fact,

Agnes, at one point in their friendship, promised that Main would inherit
her books if she died before him. Main was impressed by the way Agnes
came to rehearsals knowing her lines and being prepared, “which is rare for
an actor.” He explained that many actors find their way during rehearsals
but that Agnes seemed to already have her interpretation of Miss Swanson
already figured out. He also found her “helpful to other actors,” but “she
didn’t push herself on you. You had to gravitate toward her and ask — but
if you did she was more than willing to offer advice.”

Main has happy memories of
Lord Pengo
with the exception of the director,
Vincent Donehue. He contends that Donehue had no sense of humor and
kept trying to make a light comedy-drama something darker. Still, the
actors were a “joy to work with” and Boyer and Agnes had a “marvelous
relationship — one of mutual admiration.” He also enjoyed working with
Henry Daniell, even though he was “fast approaching his dotage.” He
recalls that he and Agnes were in the wings awaiting their entrance for a
scene when Daniell suddenly, not realizing that the play had begun, walked
out on stage while Boyer was performing a scene. Daniell just stopped,
stunned to see the curtain up and a scene underway, and turned around and
came off stage muttering, “my mistake,” but otherwise unphased.

Paul Gregory kept his promise not to
open his new play in San Francisco,
where
Prescription Murder
had been
butchered by local critics. Instead the
show opened on September 25 in
Detroit. If Paul thought the change of
venue would mean better reviews, he
was mistaken. “This is a wordy play
which would not be the least bit harmed
if about a half-hour were cut from it.
Boyer, for example, has been given
much too much to say,” per the critic of
the
Daily Collegian
. But Agnes was
singled out with a bouquet: “Agnes
Moorehead plays Pengo’s secretary with
all the artistry one has come to expect of
this excellent actress.” While in Detroit,
Agnes conducted a freewheeling
interview with the
Detroit Free Press,
vigorously defending
Lord Pengo.
“I must
disagree with some of the critics remarks . . .
It is a comedy-drama which develops its
characters well, and that takes words and
time . . . This is a charming, tender, sensitive
and funny play. When the curtain goes
down no one goes away feeling depressed.”
Still, Paul realized that the show needed
some retooling and during the Detroit
engagement an entirely new first act was
introduced “replacing an act which had
been found talky and static when the play
opened here.” The
Detroit News
found the
new act an improvement: “the new Act one
served as a clarification and enlightenment
for the entire play.” The reviews remained
mediocre when the show moved to
Philadelphia but
The Inquirer
gave the play
a rave calling it, “highly polished theatre shining with wit and nimble in its
plot manipulation.” Meanwhile, critic Ernest Schier sniffed, “Agnes
Moorehead breaks down and cries near the end because, she says, the Great
Pengo is not long for this world. She may be right, at that.”

Lord Pengo
opened at the Royale Theater in New York City on
November 19. Aggie was deluged by telegrams from friends as she made her
first Broadway appearance in a play since
Don Juan in Hell
— more than a
decade earlier:

Ann Sothern
Rita Hayworth
Baron Polan

The New York critics were mixed. The
New York Times,
the most critical:
“. . . It lacks the indispensable ingredients needed in the theater — the
development of character and a story with dramatic tension . . . he (Pengo)
is dying and he knows it. He says goodbye to his blunt, loyal assistant, Miss
Swanson, in a scene meant to be touching. Agnes Moorehead plays with
gruff integrity and Mr. Boyer covers his emotions with a debonair manner.
But it is too late. One no longer cares.”

But John McClain, of the
New York Journal-American,
countered, “It has
been a long time since such skill and charm have been displayed in a role
so ingeniously conceived (regarding Boyer) . . . Agnes Moorehead provides
magnificent support . . .
Lord Pengo
is stylish and sophisticated.”

Basil Rathbone offered Aggie an accurate assessment when he wrote her
on 11/25: “What an excellent cast — maybe you all made the play look
better than it really is . . . I do think the author has been a little lavish with
Lord Pengo and a little sketchy with the rest of his characters.”

While the reviews were not what was hoped for, the box office was strong
and one night brought to the Royale Theatre one of the most beautiful and
fashionable women in the world — the First Lady, Mrs. John F. Kennedy.
At the invitation of playwright S.N. Behrman, Mrs. Kennedy accompanied
him to see
Lord Pengo
along with Mr. and Mrs. Vincent Price. Mrs.
Kennedy was clad in a two-piece gold and white brocade suit trimmed in
black and red. Her appearance at the theater generated huge excitement not
only from the audience but from the cast. It seemed fitting that this First
Lady who emphasized style and elegance as well as an appreciation of art
should attend
Lord Pengo.
Yet according to Laurie Main, when the First
Lady was presented to the cast the only secure place deemed by the Secret
Service was the ladies’ room backstage; one by one the cast and crew would
make its way into that ladies’ room to meet Mrs. Kennedy. Later, Agnes
would write Vincent Price, “Not that I want to crowd J. Edgar Hoover out
of a job, but didn’t I hear your hearty laughter in the audience Tuesday
night? If I’m right, you selected a most exciting performance with Jackie
Kennedy in the audience. I was told Marlene Dietrich was there too but no
one was aware of it until too late. When she can be overlooked, I guess our
First Lady is
glamorous.
Were you sitting anywhere near her?”