Screenland (Nov 1950-Oct 1951)

Gary and Dana Andrews grab a bite between scenes of 20th CenturyFox's "The Frogmen." (jumbled) . the practically permanent five o'clock shadow which darkens his lower cheek areas and his chin, and his choice of clothing are eloquent indications of his unique and unstudied individuality. At heart he is a natural-born nudist. He hates clothes and wears only what is necessary. Even that must be comfortable. His standard attire around town or about the studio when he isn't actually working in a picture consists of a short-sleeved, open-necked shirt of some hilarious plaid or island print. Plus a pair of khaki shorts. Plus a pair of totally disreputable moccasins. The khaki shorts have a history. Gary brought them out of the Army with him, after four long years of service. At first he wore them in their original length, but as New York's Summer increased, he hacked off the pants at the knees. He was working, in "Born Yesterday" at the time and his appearance scandalized the motherly wardrobe mistress. "The very idea! A successful young actor in a successful Broadway production," she blustered. "Look at yourself. You might be a tramp. A downright derelict. That's the impression you give." While Gary was on stage that night, clad in tweeds proper for his role, the wardrobe mistress took some long stitches toward semi-respectability for Merrill: she turned up hems in the shorts. During many seasons Gary has carried on a vigorous one-man crusade for sensible clothing for the New York male. "New York is a tropical city in the Summer," he has pointed out to anyone who eyed or commented upon his attire. "Every man should wear short-sleeved, open-necked shirts and shorts from June until September. Look at you, my friend, in your tan wool gabardine — sweltering. Look at me in my beachcombers — comfortable." So far this crusade has produced nothing in New York except envy and oblique glances. In Hollywood the outfit is considered standard equipment. This situation represents only one round in the perennial battle between Merrill and raiment. When he signed his Hollywood contract with 20th Century-Fox, he decided that he must conform to the wardrobe code which less relaxed males have prescribed for themselves. At least when he was in front of a motion picture camera. He stood still for the fittings of several business suits and for dinner clothes. Feeling unbearably Victorian, he presented himself to the studio, mentioning that he was ready for any social emergency. So ... he promptly worked in Left: Gary adores his children, has to be kept from overindulging them. "I'm on the verge of carrying snapshots," he grins in wry humor. "Me!" Right: Gary and Bette on the Queen Elizabeth before sailing to England. He loves high places, wide open spaces, and the early morning hours in a city. eight pictures in rapid succession, six of which required him to wear a uniform or parts of a uniform while his own expensive and elegant wardrobe flirted with moths. When he was packing preparatory to making the plane trip to England for "One Man's Poison," his wife Bette came, into his bedroom with an efficient list of essential items of wardrobe for the picture. "Be sure to pack a pair of goodlooking pajamas and your best robe," she said. "I don't own either pajamas or a robe," he announced with pride. "Someone must have given you both at some time in recent years," Mrs. Merrill protested. "What does your mother send you for Christmas and your birthday?" "Greetings. Never pajamas or a robe." insisted Nature Boy. (Please turn to page Hi))