If you get a chance, check out the July issue of Classic Images Magazine which features a piece I wrote for the “Book Talk” column about Ann Dvorak. It’s basically a brief history of how I first encountered Ann and decided to become her biographer. I also discuss challenges and successes during the research process and what an integral part of my life Ann has become.

Special thanks to Laura Wagner who invited me to write this piece which accompanies her always insightful and often hilarious “Book Points.”

Case of the Stuttering Bishop is going to air on Turner Classic Movies on Wednesday, July 1 at 4:30pm EST

‘G’ Men is going to air on Turner Classic Movies on Wednesday, July 1 at 11:00pm EST

Two Ann Dvorak movies airing on one day is a rare treat indeed, and Turner Classic Movies is doing just that to kick off the month of July. Since the films are on over seven hours apart, I am forced to admit the this Dvorak Double Feature (of sorts) is probably just a coincidence, but that should not diminish our excitement over a double dose of Dvorak.

First up is Case of the Stuttering Bishop, where Ann plays the loyal Della Street to Donald Wood’s Perry Mason. This was the last of six Perry Mason films Warner Bros (First National if you want to be technical) made in the 1930s. Warren William played Mason in the first four (Ricardo Cortez played Perry once as well), and after the way Ann treated him in Three on a Match, it would have been great to see them paired up again, playing radically different characters than before.  I have to admit that it has been years since I have seen this one, and I don’t remember much about it. I recall enjoying it well enough, thinking Ann did not have enough to do, and being pleased that there really is a stuttering bishop (who might turn out to be a fake, but I don’t quite remember). One other thing that stands out for me about this movie is that Ann wears a blond wig for about five minutes, yet the three lobby cards I have from this film are from that one scene.

Case of the Stuttering Bishop was the last film Ann Dvorak made at the Warner Bros studio. She had battled them in court for the first half of 1936, trying to get out of her contract for, what she deemed to be, an unwarranted suspension. She lost the case and was loaned out to RKO for a couple of films while Warners tried to figure out what to do with her. They ultimately decided she was not worth the effort, and after casting her in Midnight Court and Case of the Stuttering Bishop, let her out of her contract early. Filming on the Perry Mason film wrapped up in December of 1936 and her last paycheck was ready as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. Talk about not letting the door hit you on the way out.

‘G’ Men has aired a number of times on TCM and I have discussed it previously. Just a quick recap: Cagney and Ann are great together, but do not share enough screen time, her song and dance number is a lot of fun, and her death scene is magnificent.

Enjoy!

The Crowd Roars is going to air on Turner Classic Movies on Sunday, June 14th at 4:30am EST.

I was taking a look on the Turner Classic Movies upcoming schedule of Ann Dvorak films and was surprised to see that between June and September they will be airing seven of Ann’s films.

The Crowd Roars – Jun 14, 04:30AM EST

G-Men – Jul 01, 11:00PM EST

The Case of the Stuttering Bishop – Jul 01, 04:30PM EST

A Life Of Her Own – Jul 07, 03:30PM EST

Blind Alley – Jul 09, 03:45AM EST

The Long Night – Aug 01, 04:00AM EST

The Long Night - Sep 19, 10:00AM EST

Our Very Own – Sep 27, 10:00PM EST

I am especially pleased to see The Case of the Stuttering Bishop and Our Very Own, which have not been aired in sometime, if ever. It’s been at least two years since A Life of Her Own aired which is great for the ten minutes or less that Ann is in it.

Click here to see my previous comments on the Crowd Roars which is airing tomorrow morning.

Happy watching!

So, for the past few years I have been working on an Ann Dvorak biography. In 1997, I started collecting memorabilia from Ann’s films and at the time thought I should probably write a book.  I did not really get serious about the project until 2002 which is when I launched the previous version of this website and started researching Ann’s life and career in ernest.

Late last year, I finally started writing the book itself which has proven to be a fairly grueling experience. Surrounded by stacks of notes, photocopies, books, magazines, and other assorted documents, I am sometimes reminded of my last semester of grad school when I was holed up in my tiny apartment with only Thelma Kitty and the sound of  Betty Hutton recordings to keep me company as I frantically wrote two lengthy research papers on the fate of the library profession. I do admit that I am not exactly on a deadline and writing about Ann Dvorak is far more interesting than composing twenty pages on library security, but it still requires a certain amount of discipline that I have yet to master. In my defense, I do have a full time job and a husband who wants nothing more than to cuddle up after work and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but at this point I really want to be done with the book.

Over the years, a number of people have contacted me through this website to ask how the book is coming, and I usually feel a bit guilty by my lack of progress. As a motivating factor, I figured I would start posting progress reports which hopefully will shame me into picking up the pace. Without further ado here is the first progress report on the Ann Dvorak biography.

Progress Report #1

At this time, I have written a little over 9,000 words. The first chapter focuses on Ann’s parents who were both vaudvillians and were involved with the early film industry. Since this is probably the only time anyone is going to really explore the careers of Edwin McKim and Anna Lehr, I feel strongly about discussing them in some detail. However, writing about stage performances from a hundred years ago and lost silent films has proven to be challenging and I think I relied too heavily on quoting newspaper reviews, which can quickly become boring. I really struggled with this chapter and will definitely need to go back and rewrite parts of  it.

Ann officially enters the picture in Chapter Two which talks about her early childhood, including the three films she appeared in, and her time spent in New York schools. The next chapter finds Ann living in Southern California with her mom and step dad, attending a private school, and her attempts at launching a journalism career after graduating.

I am now in the middle of the fourth Chapter where Ann has been hired as a chorine by M-G-M, and The Hollywood Revue of 1929 has premiered.  This chapter will continue with her stint as a dancer on the Metro lot and some discussion of her more notable films there, as well as her inability to get the studio to cast her in more substantial roles.

Well, that’s the end of the first progress report. Hard to believe I have been officially writing for a few months, and am only up to 1929. Now that Ann is entering adulthood and I am getting to the part of her life and career that I am familiar with, I should be able to crank her story out a bit faster. Thanks to all of you who have been patiently waiting to read Ann’s story, and for all the encouragement you have given me over the years.

Progress Report #2 to come soon!

The Crowd Roars is going to air on Turner Classic Movies on Tuesday, May 19 at 6:15am EST

Click here to see previous comments on The Crowd Roars.

Racing Lady is going to air on Turner Classic Movies on Friday, May 1st at 7:30am EST.

I have only seen Racing Lady once because my personal copy is like a 25th generation dupe, taped off of TN’T with bad commercial editing, and at one point the sound goes out for three minutes.

What I vaguely remember from the lone viewing (besides the horrible quality) is that Ann Dvorak never rides a horse in the film, she just owns and races them. Unless I am mistaken, she never rides a horse in any of her films which for some reason strikes me as very disappointing.  The other thing I remember from this film is Ann cheering on her horse as it practices by screaming “COME ON PEPPER MARY” with a little bit too mush gusto. No one can ever accuse Ann Dvorak of not giving 110% to every performance. One last recollection is the woodenness of Smith Ballew as he lays on the sweet romance.

Warner Bros and Ann had been battling each other in court for the first half of 1936 and once she came back from suspension,  they chose to loan her to RKO for Racing Lady and We Who Are About to Die. She would make only two more movies for Warner Bros before being released from her contract in December of 1939.

At this point, I realy don’t have much of an opinion on Racing Lady and am looking forward to viewing a copy that has sound throughout the entire film.

When I first became interested in Ann Dvorak, I did not have much trouble locating copies of her movies. Fellow fans like Laura Wagner over at Classic Images generously shared their personal film libraries with me and visa-versa. Despite this network of cinefiles, a few Dvorak titles proved to be elusive, with I Was an American Spy topping the list followed by Gangs of New York and She’s No Lady.

After a few years of searching I managed to finally track down a copy of Gangs of New York and was able to view UCLA’s nitrate print of She’s No Lady. My expectations for both these films ran pretty high as I hoped they would prove to be little seen gems. Turns out, they’re both kind of lousy. Gangs of New York centers on Charles Bickford playing two unrelated characters who happen to be identical (a plot device that irritates me to no end). Ann has limited screen time and is subjected to supremely unflattering hair, make-up, and costumes. The film could have been slightly redeemed by a hair-pulling catfight between Ann and Wynn Gibson that was filmed but, alas, ended up on the cutting room floor. She’s No Lady was the first film Ann made after leaving Warner Bros and is actually worse than the mediocre fare she was subjected to at the Burbank studio.  The film wants to be a screwball comedy, but falls flat and is one of the few times Ann turns out a less than stellar performance.

Other than three supposedly “lost” British films from the war years, I Was an American Spy was the last title on the Dvorak filmography I needed to view. Over the years dozens of people have contacted me looking for a copy. Some have relatives who were in the film or are related to the real-life participants the story was based on, while many others had seen the movie when it was released and have fond memories of it. I was anxious to view it not only because it was Ann’s favorite role, but also because I have more memorabilia from this title than any other.  After nearly a decade of searching for a copy of I Was an American Spy, I now am a proud owner, courtesy of the Warner Archive.

The big premiere was spent with my husband Josh and my friend Darin who has been with me through the whole Ann Dvorak journey, including the ill fated She’s No Lady viewing at a warehouse in Hollywood. Expectations were running low, and I braced myself for another disappointment as the Allied Artist logo came on the screen. I am happy to report that I was pleasantly surprised.  After a slow start, I found myself  really engaged by the end of the movie. No, it is not a high budget flick and the use of stock footage is a bit excessive, but it is a showcase role for Ann and she makes the most of it. She  goes from being vulnerable and lovestruck to hardened and vixenish, with an appetite for revenge. She slaps and gets slapped, is tortured with a hose, sentenced to death, does a fan dance on the drop of a dime (sadly, we only get a tiny taste of this) and performs a heartfelt rendition of “Because of You.“  I think this is the most substantial part she ever played in terms of screen time and it’s easy to see why she favored this role.  It’s a riveting performance, and is right up there with Three on a Match and Scarface. She looks gorgeous in the dolled-up nightclub scenes.  I Was an American Spy would prove to be Ann’s last hurrah, as she only made one more movie, the Secret of Convict Lake, where she has a standard supporting role.

After ten years of waiting to see I Was an American Spy, Darin and I were satisfied, but such a build up left us both feeling like the whole experience was a bit anticlimactic. My husband thought the film was “lousy” and I realize that I have yet to subject him to the many mediocre roles that comprise the career of Ann Dvorak. Compared to the majority of films that Ann made between 1933-1951, I Was an American Spy is a high mark.

As far a quality goes, the DVD is completely bare bones but the print looks nice enough. Considering I would have spent a couple hundred bucks for an ultra low quality copy, and was on the verge on scheduling a $500 screening on the Warner lot, $19.95 was a steal for this and worth every penny.

At long last! I have been looking for I Was an American Spy for over ten years and have had countless people contact me in hot pursuit as well. This 1951 drama starring Ann Dvorak as the real life Claire Phillips, who worked as a nightclub singer while spying on the Japanese and is eventually captured, was Ann’s favorite role.

Warner Bros now has what they call “The Warner Archive Collection” and I Was an American Spy is one of many great titles offered for $19.95. The print was supposedly restored recently, and should look great. My copy is ordered and on its way. I will give a full report once the grand premiere has taken place in my living room.

Click here to order your copy of I Was An American Spy!

The Long Night is going to air on Turner Classic Movies on Friday, March 20th at 8:00pm EST

By the late 1940s, Ann Dvorak had pretty much been relegated to supporting roles. While she generally no longer had the name above the title, these later films gave her the opportunity to play some colorful characters which resulted in memorable performances. In the Long Night she plays an assistant to the domineering magician Maximilian (Vincent Price). She has a soft spot for blue collar Joe (Henry Fonda) whose romance with a fragile girl (Barbara Bel Geddes) causes him to cross the temperamental magician.

Her character, Charlene, is hardened but sympathetic and Ann more than holds her own while sharing the screen with Price and Fonda. She was a naturally talented actress, but always benefited from working with strong directors (Howard Hawks, Mervyn LeRoy, George Cukor) and Anatole Litvak is no exception.

The Long Night is a gritty, but stylish noir thriller, and even though Ann Dvorak does not have a lot of screen time, it’s still worth watching.

If there is one thing Ann Dvorak was especially great at, it was dying on screen. Fortunately for us film fans, she had the opportunity to do this on a few occasions.  Just a warning that spoilers are ahead as we take a look at divine Dvorak death scenes.

Scarface (United Artists 1932)

I would imagine few people realize that Ann was only twenty when Scarface was filmed, and that this was her first real acting gig (she mainly just smiled big and hoofed around a bunch of MGM musicals prior to this). While her role as Paul Muni’s kid sister, Cesca Camonte, did not give her a lot of screen-time, it was still an important character in a big movie, with a really dramatic death scene.

The end comes for Cesca as she heroically (or stupidly, or creepily) stands by her big brother as he stands-off against the Chicago police and quickly loses his mind. As the cops riddle Tony’s apartment with a sea of bullets, he is unable to draw the bulletproof window treatments fast enough and Cesca is stricken while loading a gun. Tony’s cowardice emerges, as he seems more concerned with being left alone than with comforting his dying sister. The realization that her big brother is not what she thought he was fills her last moments with fear and disgust.

Cesca’s death could have easily come off as pure camp, but Dvorak’s execution of the scene is impressive. A touch of the melodramatic does slip in when she looks up to the ceiling and calls out the name of her dead husband (Tony’s best friend Guino, who he had killed hours before). I have viewed Scarface a number of times on the big screen, and every time she cries out “Guino! Guino!,” I always brace myself for the audience to start snickering. They never do, which makes me think that at times Ann was a better actress then even I give her credit for.

Three on a Match (First National/Warner Bros 1932)

I am particularly partial to Ann’s untimely death in Three on a Match. This film was the first time I ever encountered Ann Dvorak who quickly mesmerized me with her portrayal of Vivian Revere, a bored-society-wife-turned-cokehead.  She meets her ultimate doom by unceremoniously throwing herself out a window to save the life of her son who had been kidnapped by her loser boyfriend in an attempt to collect a ransom from the boy’s father. (Were you able to follow that?)

What’s so striking about this scene are the moments leading up to the big plunge.  No attempt is made to make her look like anything more than the worn out drug-addict she has become. She frenziedly attempts to open up windows that have been nailed shut, tries to calmly engage her son in a game of hide and seek so he’ll be safe, and finally scribbles a message on her dirty nightgown in lipstick while frantically praying. The first time I saw this, I was not quick enough to catch onto what she was doing and was shocked when she screams and jumps out of the widow the moment the gangsters enter her room. Her final scene in Three on a Match is disturbing, yet memorable and I became a fan for life.

‘G’ Men (Warner Bros 1935)

Ann may not have the main female lead in ‘G’ Men (that honor goes to Margaret Lindsay), but she definitely has the more interesting role. As Jean Morgan, a showgirl whose unrequited love for ‘G’ Man James Cagney leads her to run with the wrong crowd, Dvorak gets to perform a lively musical number and die in Cagney’s arms.

Ann dooms herself to death in this one when she turns coat on her hoodlum hubby (Barton MacClane) in order to assist Cagney on the right side of the law. MacClane has no problem coldly and callously gunning down his wife in a phone booth, which comes as a shock for first time viewers (it did for me at least). Ann gets to have the drawn out death scene which, like Scarface, could be cheesy as all get out, but in Dvorak’s capable hands Jean Morgan’s demise is heartbreaking. When she responds to Cagney’s  “I’ll see you later” with a tearful “I won’t be around,” I get welled up every time.

The Return of Jesse James (Lippert Pictures, 1950)

This lackluster western about a Jesse James look-alike (John Ireland) who resurrects the old James gang is one of Ann’s weakest films and she looks kind of awful in it (what’s up with those bangs?). Ann was only three years older than Ireland when this was shot, but the age difference comes off as considerably more (and not in Ann’s favor), and the two have zero chemistry.

Leave it to Ann to redeem this forgettable role with a magnificent death scene.  Her character Susan (Sue) Ellen Younger, has few redeeming qualities and spends most of the movie working Ireland for her benefit. In the end, the fake Jesse James gets wise to her backstabbing ways and gives her belly full of led as she is trying to make a getaway on a horse. She slowly sinks to the ground while clinging to the animal, making for a haunting end.

A Life of Her Own (MGM, 1950)

Ok, Ann doesn’t actually die on-screen in this one, but the movie is pretty much un-watchable once she bites it. I think it’s fair to say that the impact her character’s death makes on the entire film warrants inclusion on this list.

As Mary Ashlon, a washed up fashion model at the end of the line, Ann gives an Oscar worthy performance. She is bitter, pissed off, drunk, desperate, and depressed which means she is a fascinatingly fabulous character. Lana Turner actually pales next to Ann in this scene stealing performance that culminates with a soused-up Dvorak tirade about the cruelty of life.  The next scene reveals that Ann had subsequently thrown herself out a high-rise window, leaving the viewer wishing for the rest of the film that she had survived the fall.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Blind Alley  (Columbia 1939)

If Columbia had faithfully adapted this 1936 James Warwick play of the same name, it would have ended with gangster Chester Morris completely losing his mind at the hands of psychiatrist Ralph Bellamy and shooting his devoted partner- in-crime (Dvorak) before turning the gun on himself. Since the Production Code did not allow for so much nastiness, Chester is instead gunned down by the police, leaving moll Ann to cry over his fallen body and depriving the viewer of what could have been a great Dvorak death scene.

Out of the Blue (Eagle Lion, 1947)

This is one of the Ann’s few straight comedy roles, and she does a respectable job as Olive Jenson, a hard drinking, kinda pathetic goofball who latches onto a weak willed George Brent while his wife (Carole Landis) is out of town. I am listing this as an honorable mention because Olive suffers from a heart condition that causes her to pass out, giving the appearance of being deceased. That’s right, she fake dies in this one (and on more than one occasion), but always gets up to have another drink and charm us, the viewer, with this off beat performance.

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Just a side note: I was going to try and find these scenes on YouTube, but decided against it because: 1) The clips may disappear at some point 2) I’m kind of lazy 3) You should be watching Ann Dvorak films in their entirety!