He's Got Rhythm: The Life and Career of Gene Kelly (Screen Classics)

by Cynthia Brideson

  He and Betsy both hired lawyers to handle their divorce and division of property. Gene retained Greg Bautzer, one of the most prominent lawyers in Hollywood, while Betsy hired a green left-wing lawyer. Both spouses agreed upon joint custody of Kerry. Betsy did not foresee that she and Gene would have anything to argue about. “I was wrong,” she stated. “The day came when my lawyer told me, ‘Mr. Bautzer says that Mr. Kelly doesn’t agree to the community property division of assets. . . . [He] says he will accuse you of adultery and of giving $10,000 to the Red Chinese. Did you give $10,000 to the Red Chinese?’” Shocked, Betsy explained that she was a partner in a Parisian film company planning to shoot a movie in China. She had invested money in the film, but this did not mean she was donating to the Red Chinese. “For the first time in my life, I was so angry I couldn’t think straight. I went home and when Gene came in I told him to get out. I was ashamed of him. Wasn’t he ashamed of himself? . . . Wouldn’t he be ashamed in front of his friends? ‘What friends?’ Gene asked and left the room.”46

  After litigation, Betsy received $18,000 a year for ten years, though she claimed that her legal share should have been $250,000. Unwilling to wait the year California law required for a divorce, she flew to Las Vegas. There, she had six weeks to calm down. She admitted that she called Gene one night after six weeks. Sad and frightened she had made the wrong decision, she began to sob.

  “Betsy, just come back,” Gene said, a note of pleading in his voice.

  “I can’t. I promised,” Betsy replied.47 Whom she had promised—herself or Roger Pigaut—is unclear. What was clear was that she could not and did not come back.

  Betsy chose Paris as her new home base. She was pleased that Kerry had decided to attend high school in Europe; their proximity allowed them to see each other every other weekend. Betsy lived with Pigaut, who she said was wise enough “not to intrude on Kerry . . . just to be friendly and there.” Betsy and Pigaut did not marry, but they remained lovers and business partners. Betsy felt “sexy in Paris. . . . I had changed. . . . I wasn’t pleasing my other. I wasn’t pleasing Gene. I was free, just living, just being.”48

  Gene did not share Betsy’s joyous sense of domestic freedom. Along with his own feelings of personal failure, he had to contend with his mother’s disappointment. Harriet Kelly was stunned by her son’s divorce and the attention it received from the press. She did not blame Betsy for the dissolution of the marriage—she pointed her finger at Gene. Betsy believed that to Harriet, “anything unfortunate in any of the Kelly lives was Gene’s fault—it was heaven’s retribution for his success.”49

  Without the extroverted Betsy at home, Gene’s open-house parties went extinct. Betty Comden, decades later, surprised Betsy by saying, “The atmosphere in the house . . . came from you.” Betsy explained that Gene was “the dominant figure” at their parties, but he was “slightly removed . . . always pleasant and amused and attending to drinks, but not entirely there.”50

  Only Jeanne Coyne remained by Gene’s side throughout the ordeals of the divorce, the dissolution of his social life, and the heartbreaks in his work. Betsy remarked that during one of the last dinners she and Gene attended as a couple with Adolph Green, his wife, and Jeanne, she had noticed that each time Jeanne laughed at Green’s many jokes, she put her head on Gene’s shoulder. “I never guessed she was in love with Gene because she never flirted with him while our marriage was still working. She wasn’t that sort of woman.” After the dinner with Green, however, Betsy suspected Jeanne’s feelings went deeper than she’d realized and had a four-hour “heart to heart” talk with her. Betsy asked Jeanne whether she was waiting to marry Gene. “Yes,” Jeanne replied. “That’s great, but it won’t work until he gets analyzed. He’ll treat you like a child, like he did me,” Betsy told her. Jeanne said nothing. Years later Betsy understood that she had been wrong: Jeanne was already a grown woman and thus did not need to establish herself as an adult with Gene as Betsy had. Not long after Gene and Betsy’s divorce was finalized, on April 3, 1957, Jeanne moved back into Gene’s home.51

  More changes took place on North Rodeo Drive. Gene, in an act of rebellion against Betsy’s long-standing hatred for the Hollywood lifestyle, broke ground on a swimming pool in his backyard. Kerry explained that “he suddenly woke up to the fact that it would be rather nice to have a swim . . . as his whim decreed. . . . A swimming pool suddenly became a fun thing to have. It also gave the house a new ‘toy’ which in no way could be related to Betsy.”52

  Gene could not help but relate his career at MGM, which began with his marriage and ended with his divorce, to Betsy. Now, he had only one more commitment left to complete for the studio. After that, he could truly begin anew and direct what course his career and life should take—and with whom.

  Les Girls (1957) is not a great film, but it is notable in Gene Kelly’s career as the great dancer’s final picture for MGM. The atmosphere in the MGM musical department was no longer familial; many of Gene’s trusted colleagues, including Donen, Comden, Green, and Roger Edens, were no longer under contract. The fact that yet another new studio head had been appointed exacerbated the changed mood at Metro. In November 1956, Dore Schary was ousted. Executive Benny Thau took his place, but he was ultimately as unsuccessful as Schary in keeping the studio solvent. He approved a massive budget for Les Girls (over $3 million) despite the fact that musicals were no longer surefire moneymakers. The film faced heady competition—and not just from television. Now filmmakers had a new phenomenon with which to contend: rock and roll. How could Les Girls, with its score by an old master like Cole Porter, win young audiences’ attention when MGM had slated teen idol Elvis Presley’s third film, Jailhouse Rock (1957), for an almost simultaneous release? Aside from Broadway adaptations, the most original musicals now coming from studios were those in the emerging genre of rock musicals. The advent of rock and roll divided young and old Americans as much as jazz had in the 1920s.

  While Broadway musical remakes were merely bland and uninspired, rock musicals showed little semblance of artistry or wit. Hastily put together films like Shake, Rattle, and Rock! (1956, starring Bill Haley and His Comets) were vehicles for rock and roll stars rather than for viable screen personalities. Rock musicals brought forth no talents as exciting as Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney, with the one exception of Elvis Presley, who had charisma and whose films were more substantial than the average teen flick.

  In spite of rock and rollers, Cole Porter was still a strong presence in Hollywood. His song “True Love,” written for the Bing Crosby–Frank Sinatra–Grace Kelly picture High Society (1956) became a gold record and the film was the ninth-biggest grosser of the year. Love Me Tender, Elvis’s screen debut, came in at number sixteen. High Society’s success was largely due to its powerhouse cast; audiences were as fascinated to see Crosby and Sinatra share screen time as they were to see Grace Kelly, in her last film appearance, sing. Les Girls had only one A-list member in its cast: Gene. And he could not hold the weak picture together by himself—particularly since he was not as popular as he once was.

  Les Girls tells the story of Sybil Wren (portrayed by British actress Kay Kendall), who pens a tell-all book about her time in the dance troupe Barry Nichols and Les Girls. Fellow dancer Angele (Taina Elg) sues Sybil for libel. The narrative then shows the story from three points of view: Sybil accuses Angele of having an affair with Barry (Gene); Angele insists that it was Sybil who was having the affair. Last, Barry gives his side of the story, revealing that all along he was in love with an American dancer in his troupe, Joy (Mitzi Gaynor). The film ends on a comic note; Joy, who has listened to the other women’s testimonies from the back of the courtroom, suspects that Sybil and Angele did not completely invent stories of their relationships with Barry, which leads to another circuitous romantic dispute. The screenplay was lopsided; the three viewpoints failed to balance, and Gene’s character was virtually lost in the shuffle. The score, too, was unimpressive. Though Saul Chaplin declared that Cole
Porter was as “alert, articulate, and witty as ever,” the truth was that his compositions were not up to his usual standard.53 Not surprisingly, Les Girls was the last film Porter ever scored.

  Les Girls, whatever its faults, did not suffer from lack of talent. Aside from Cole Porter, other behind-the-scenes greats included George Cukor as director, Saul Chaplin as associate producer and musical arranger, Orry-Kelly as costume designer, and Jack Cole as choreographer. Sol C. Siegel, who had a fine track record for backing superior musicals such as Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) and, most recently, High Society (1956), served as producer.

  From the moment Les Girls went into production, Gene felt miscast. Indeed, Jack Cole described the film as “the essence of chic,” and Gene could not conform to Cole’s vision of staging numbers that were “more sophisticated” and enacted “with less bravura.”54 Jeanne Coyne, Gene’s assistant on the film, told Cole it was useless to attempt to make Gene into a Fred Astaire. Ultimately, the dance routines were as scattered as the script itself. Cole, ill with hepatitis, left the picture before its completion. Gene took over as best he could. As a consequence, the numbers serve as examples of Cole’s and Gene’s styles of choreography warring with each other.

  Gene enjoyed a friendly relationship with George Cukor, though he found the director’s lengthy shoots even more maddening than Vincente Minnelli’s. Cukor could spend two hours explaining uncomplicated scenes. “For Christ’s sake George, let’s just shoot the goddamn thing!” Gene often exclaimed. Cukor and the rest of the cast would laugh and then “everything would be fine.”55 Gene also enjoyed a genial—if curious—relationship with Kay Kendall. She was the only nondancer in the cast yet was the only one of “les girls” who, according to Saul Chaplin, had the magnetism to keep all eyes riveted on her. Gene and Kay had, up to this time, known each other only personally, having first met when he was working in London. They were friends, yet Saul Chaplin recalled that Gene seemed to bring out Kay’s occasional “violent temper.” “They [Gene and Kay] would disappear into one of their dressing rooms and scream at each other, using the foulest language imaginable. I never knew what prompted the arguments, but I’m quite certain they had nothing to do with the film. Just when we thought that there would be no more shooting that day, they would emerge arm-in-arm, laughing and joking as though what they had indulged in was normal behavior. For them it was.”56

  Given their electric chemistry, it is unfortunate that Gene’s most enjoyable number in the picture, a spoof on the rock and roll/motorcycle culture epitomized in the Marlon Brando picture The Wild One (1954), paired him with Mitzi Gaynor rather than Kay. The routine, “Why Am I So Gone about That Girl?” has Gene dressed in a black leather jacket and cap. The rest of his performance lacks the “charm” and “vitality” evidenced in this number.57 The very fact that Gene had declined the role of choreographer indicated that he was not invested in the film. In his mind, he was already gone from MGM. Filming wrapped in April 1957.

  Upon its release on October 3, 1957, Les Girls did surprisingly well, not only in the United States but in England. Reviewers did not seem to sense Gene’s underlying lack of enthusiasm for the picture. Bosley Crowther wrote a glowing account: “Mr. Kelly is more winning in this picture than he was in An American in Paris—which is some!”58 A critic for Picturegoer expressed similar appreciation for the film and made conspicuous mention that Queen Elizabeth chose it to be screened for the Royal Film Performance at London’s Odeon Theatre in Leicester Square.

  At last Kelly’s back! And, fittingly, in right royal fashion. . . . But Gene Kelly BACK? Who says he’s been absent? Haven’t we seen him recently in Invitation to the Dance and The Happy Road? Well, some may hold the view that the star in those two pictures was indeed Kelly. But not the majority of picturegoers. . . . In Les Girls, out have come the straw hat and the dancing shoes. . . . This is the bubbling, full-of-life Kelly we know. Welcome back! Which, by the way, is a sentiment with which the Queen will probably agree.59

  The review, though complimentary, minimized the attempts Gene had recently made to broaden the scope of his work and dancing technique. The critic may have thought Gene was back, but his performance was truly a farewell. What the writer saw as the real Gene was merely a projected personality. Les Girls ultimately grossed $3,865,000, but because of its high production costs, it lost $1,635,000.

  Gene’s tenure at MGM was at its end, but Benny Thau had one last favor to ask of him. Would he agree to direct The Tunnel of Love? A Doris Day vehicle sans music, it seemed a simple task. Gene agreed because, in his words, he “just couldn’t take sitting around with nothing to do.”60 The picture was not slated for production until January 1958. In the meantime, Gene received an offer from a most unexpected source: Warner Bros. After Danny Kaye and Paul Newman turned down the role of Noel Airman for the studio’s adaptation of Herman Wouk’s best-selling novel Marjorie Morningstar, Jack Warner suggested Gene as an ideal choice for Airman, a dance teacher and producer of amateur theatricals who can also sing, compose, and speak several languages. The picture would not begin filming until August 1957.

  As he waited for production to start, Gene watched his protégé Stanley Donen again triumph in a solo directorial project, Paramount’s Funny Face (1957), starring Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn. The same year, the singer Gene had taught to dance, Frank Sinatra, made a hit in the role Gene originated on Broadway, Pal Joey. Both films ranked in the top twenty highest-grossing movies of 1957.

  The year Gene left MGM, the studio was $445,000 in debt, with gross receipts $18 million less than the year before.61 Though Les Girls won an Academy Award for Best Costume Design and Golden Globes for Best Musical/Comedy and Best Actress (shared by Kay Kendall and Taina Elg), it did not help relieve the studio’s debt. After Benny Thau’s brief reign ended, Sol C. Siegel, producer of Les Girls, appeared to be MGM’s savior. Under his aegis, the studio released Arthur Freed and Vincente Minnelli’s Best Picture winner, Gigi (1958), starring Gene’s discovery Leslie Caron. MGM nevertheless continued to lose money because of high overhead costs. Regardless of Metro’s tumult, Gene later expressed regret over not having fulfilled the original terms of his contract. “Had I hung on a few years longer, I would have qualified for several thousands of dollars [$25,000] a year for life,” he explained.62 Gene left after sixteen years under contract, which was not long enough to qualify for an MGM pension.

  Instead, Gene was now his own boss, earning money largely through freelance work in all mediums: stage, film, and even television. During filming for Les Girls, Gene had already begun venturing into television. “I find myself getting ready for a TV debut,” Gene told a columnist in January 1957, “in a voice sounding as if he still didn’t believe it.”63 Indeed, a writer for the Los Angeles Times had only the month before called Gene “one of the real hold outs against TV.”64 However, he succumbed to the “dreaded tube” in “The Life You Save,” an episode of the CBS-TV anthology series Schlitz Playhouse (which began in 1951). The episode was set to air on March 1, 1957. Gene maintained a positive attitude about his transition to the small screen: “In Europe, television is still an experiment. It is shunned as a career handicap by most of the top stars there . . . already I find myself getting ready for a TV debut. . . . What makes it more unique, they didn’t even ask me to dance. I’m just playing a straight dramatic role.”65

  Gene’s television debut revealed an actor far different from the Gene Kelly the columnist for Picturegoer had rhapsodized over in his review of Les Girls. The teleplay tells the story of a beautiful deaf-mute girl whose mother (Agnes Moorehead) encourages a one-armed bum (Gene) to marry her daughter. “Unfortunately, Mr. Kelly was burdened with a lot of nonsensical lines and did not show up very well in his first TV appearance,” wrote a critic for the New York Times.66

  Gene’s inauspicious beginnings on television led him to refocus his attention on his upcoming film projects. But, as his biographer Clive Hirschhorn observed, the brutal fact remained that �
��everything [Gene] did couldn’t match up to [his] glory days.”67

  Part 3

  Still Going Strong

  1957–1972

  18

  A Hundred Million Miracles

  “Everything for me has been happenstance. The good parts have been the luck of the Irish and the bad parts I generally worked out for myself,” Gene reflected in 1980.1 For him, the period 1957–1959 was more a time of fortune than adversity.

  The first instance of Gene’s Irish luck was winning the role of Noel Airman in Warner Bros.’ Marjorie Morningstar, directed by Irving Rapper. The part was the first substantial dramatic assignment Gene had received in a prestigious picture (as compared to his other dramatic films, which had been strictly programmers). “It’s hard to play a fellow of charm who falls apart,” Gene admitted when he accepted the role.2 Though a few Warner Bros. executives gave Gene only “begrudging acceptance,” arguing that he was “too old, too dark, too much the dancing man” for the part, Gene changed their minds once the cameras started rolling.3 Forty-five-year-old Gene was convincing as the thirty-two-year-old Noel, even when shown beside his leading lady, twenty-year-old Natalie Wood.

  Gene’s primary challenge in playing Noel was the fact that the character’s struggles, in a number of ways, were too similar to his own. At the beginning of the picture, Noel is the idol of young hopefuls at a summer camp in upstate New York. There, he choreographs and composes annual musical revues that are far too good for an amateur venue. He eventually tries his luck on Broadway, but his experimental play fails to garner any attention. He takes to drinking to soothe his hurt ego but eventually returns to the summer camp. There, a new group of wide-eyed young performers consider him the last word in show business.