Screenland Plus TV-Land (Nov 1952 - Oct 1953)

"The waltz/' announced Gene. "The good old-fashioned waltz." That's interesting, because Gene has made his professional dance reputation doing dynamic, electric dances. In an interview, he once compared his own kind of dancing to Fred Astaire's (whom he admires greatly), saying, "My wn style is strong, wide, open, bravura. His is intimate, cool, easy." I think perhaps the reason Gene enjoys an easy-going, conventional, graceful dance like the waltz on social occasions is the complete relaxation it provides for him. He doesn't have to think about what he's doing — he can enjoy the rhythm, the tempo, without taxing his creative instincts. That's desirable because dancing is his work. It's another thing for people who dance for a hobby. To those of us who do, there's a stimulating chance to exercise our imaginations as well as our muscles, and it's a thing a man and woman can find real pleasure in enjoying together — in public or dancing at home. "There are lots of guys like me, you know," said Gene, "who just don't like to get dressed up. With just a little en couragement, they'd enjoy stirring from their easy chairs to dance — if they just didn't have to get too dressed up in the bargain." Sounds like a great idea to me for keeping a man interested. He'll dress up while he's courting you, but he'll still dance after the contest is over — if he doesn't have to put on a tuxedo to do it. Kelly loves to dress for comfort. On the set, except for costuming for picture scenes, he lounges around in Navy tans from a government surplus store, and at home he happily clothes himself in denims and an old T-Shirt. When we were having lunch, his only concession to elegance was a beige cashmere sweater, and that was secured to his person with the sleeves knotted around his neck collegeboy style. "Dancing," he said, breaking into his engagingly boyish grin, "it seems to me, is awfully important to people. It's fun, it's exercise, and what better way is there to kindle — or re-kindle — a romantic feeling than by dancing cheek to cheek?" I can't think of any better way, unless it's sitting in a movie theatre watching Gene and his leading lady dance — holding hands in the dark with your fellow. Another Doris Day? Continued from page 40 blasting the tune over loudspeakers. "About eight months after I did the number I was playing at the Thunderbird Hotel in Las Vegas — still toying with the idea of a screen career. One night my close friend and manager, Joe Shribman, told me that Milton Lewis of Paramount was in the audience. I braced myself and decided I'd impress him — or else. I about knocked myself out doing the act. Afterwards I went over to Mr. Lewis' table. He smiled sweetly at me — and said nothing. I later told Joe, 'Well, that's that. It's back to TV and radio and nightclubs for us.' "Two weeks later when I was in New York I got a call from Paramount telling me to make a rush test at the studio in New York. I didn't even have time to get my hair fixed. I sang 'Come On-A My House' and 'Tenderly.' When the studio saw the test, which was certainly not a great production, I was signed to a contract. On my arrival in Hollywood, I was given a more extensive test." And so Rosemary was put into "The Stars Are Singing," with Anna Maria Alberghetti, Lauritz Melchior, among others. And Paramount has been doing nip-ups ever since. Rosemary reacted to her new career in anything but a relaxed manner. She was all nerves at first. When she reported to the studio she was told she would have to take some dancing lessons from the dance director. "I was ready to turn right around and forget a screen career," Rosemary remarked with a grin. "I could never dance. 1 used to stand on the band stand at clubs and watch the dancers perform. I was always amazed that they could do such routines. I was sure I'd never be 68 able to manage the simplest 1-2-3 step. Well, after working for a while I was indulging in a bit of Terpsichore. Now it looks as though I'll have to go in for a lot more of it. I don't mind, though, since I feel a little more secure now. "I'll never forget the first day's shooting either. I was so scared. Fortunately, I had an understanding director — Norman Taurog. After the first day's shooting he said to me, 'Rosemary, I'm going to break a long-standing rule of mine for you. I have never allowed any player to see rushes of her work, but I want you to see yours.' He took me into the projection room and I got a good look at what I had done the first day. I was lelieved to find it was not a gruesome affair. By letting me see the rushes Norman helped to give me confidence and self-assurance." Before Rosemary got her picture break she was, of course, already known to thousands of fans for her records. Among her hits was "Beautiful Brown Eyes." Altogether she has made many records, not one has been a dud. Yet — here's an interesting item: this young lady can't read a note of music. When she was making the picture the orchestra would play the number through a few times, and then she'd go into her song. "I don't ever want to learn to read music either," Rosemary said. "I'm afraid it would make me too critical of myself and I'd ruin my style." In Rosemary's career, there were several turning points. One was the day Joe Shribman decided to cast his lot with Rosemary and act as her manager. Another was the help given her by the nation's disc jockeys, all of whom adore her. She is really a personal friend to them. The third was the day she and her sister, Bettie, tossed a coin to see how their one quarter would be spent. To start from the beginning, Rosemary was born in Maysville, Kentucky, on May 23, 1928. Music early became a part of her life since her grandfather used to take her and her sister to the Negro churches to hear the spirituals. From this music Rosemary got her innate sense of rhythm. "Grandpa used to run for Mayor of our town," Rosemary explained, "and I'd campaign for him by going around the neighborhood singing songs like 'My Old Kentucky Home.' I was seven at the time. I don't know whether my songs did it — but grandpa was always elected. "Then my sister and I began to sing at different affairs held in town. Eventually, we all moved to Cincinnati, Ohio, Between takes on "No Time For Flowers' Viveca Lindfors, try out a few provocative ' set, Director Don Siegel has the star, poses for saucy scene about to be shot.