Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1957)

talent or her will. Uncertainly and on painful muscles at first, she danced with growing confidence. In “Lullaby of Broadway” she did some of the most difficult steps the art has to offer, including the trick of dancing up and down a long flight of stairs. Doris Day was dancing again. She had a happy home-life. Her studio was happy with her talents and perfectly willing to pay her hundreds of dollars for making pictures that were fun to make. But to her, one question now became paramount. “Can I act?” She quit the studio. She quit to freelance, to wait for some producer — any producer — to give her a solid dramatic part. It is a rough decision for any actor to make. Rougher still for Doris, who had a million-dollar reputation as “the girl next door,” but little more than her own intuition to assure her she could act. As one critic remarked, with more flipness than charity, it was like quitting musical comedy to wait for an offer from grand opera. Doris had plenty of offers. She was too valuable a property to remain ignored. But her would-be producers all wanted to star her in the same sure-fire roles that had helped keep Warner Brothers a prosperous concern. She turned them down, but a gnawing doubt began to creep in. Lonely years of breaking into Hollywood, in which hard work was her only antidote to misery, were now taking their toll. And she had worked harder than she or anyone else knew. Easy lines that an experienced actress could toss off with the lift of an eyebrow had been an ordeal for her, and the difficult lines that she had mastered were not so much the product of inspiration plus training as they were of sheer perseverance. To mental turmoil was soon added a health problem, memories of which are painful even today. At this critical point she wanted comfort only from Marty, from Terry, and from her mother. Least of all did she want to be hunted up by the press and interviewed on love, marriage, success and the details of her private life. In return for this “lack of cooperation,” the Women’s Press Club of Hollywood voted her their Sour Apple of 1954 as a symbol of their disapproval. Upon receipt of this news, Doris came close to collapse. “It was the lowest period of our married life,” Marty admits frankly. Then came the big offer from M-G-M to star with Jimmy Cagney in the highly dramatic “Love Me or Leave Me,” a turning point in her professional life. The picture was based on the life of Ruth Etting, a famous singing star of early radio and speakeasy days, who in private life was the unhappy victim of too many bouts with the bottle and with a husband whose tenderness seldom rose above a belt on the jaw. Marty, who had given up his role as agent in favor of keeping business out of the family, was perfectly willing to let his wife find herself in a difficult role, but her friends were horrified. “How can you play Ruth Etting?” she was asked countless times. “You don’t drink. You can’t stand brutality. And think of your fans. They know you as the wholesome girl in the high-necked gingham dress. How can you let them down in a picture that deals with sex and booze and even murder?” But Doris went ahead. She turned in a performance so outstanding in its dramatic intensity that it won for her the International Laurel Awards Poll conducted by motion picture exhibitors. On the strength of tickets purchased at the box-office window, Doris Day was the top actress of the world, successful as never before. Shortly before the end of shooting on “Love Me or Leave Me,” Doris ran into Alfred Hitchcock. “Now,” he said. “What?” asked Miss Day. “ ‘The Man Who Knew Too Much.’ ” “Good.” It was one of the shortest negotiations in Hollywood history, but then, because of the length of the title, it was pretty long-winded for those two at that. Doris knew she wanted to work for Hitchcock, and Hitchcock knew he wanted Doris for the remake of his all-time favorite movie. Need they say more? With the release of “The Man Who Knew Too Much,” Doris made permanent her right to be called a dramatic actress and a star of the first magnitude. Then came “Julie,” an independent venture by a new company called Arwin Productions, which happens to be Mr. and Mrs. Martin Melcher. Now she is busy with “The Pajama Game,” a vehicle for the full measure of her triple-threat talent, as a singer, as a dancer and as a dramatic actress. But it is not in the flowering success of her current career, deeply satisfying though it is, that the real climax of Doris Day’s story comes. It is in her personal life, her fresh hold on the world, created by her years of struggle, of pain and joy. In part that fresh look arose from her recent work. “When Marty and I were working as business partners on ‘Julie’,” Doris says, “it made us realize how important our family life is, and I think that is the most important realization that has ever come to me.” But the climax is more than that, too. Last summer Doris took a serious operation in her stride. Upon release from the hospital she asked her doctor, “Will I be able to play tennis?” Thinking she was asking only if the operation would interfere with her tennis style, he answered, “Think nothing of it. You can play all the tennis you want.” Whereupon Doris hired an instructor and put in an hour a day on the courts for the next week. When she reported her progress to her doctor, he was appalled. “I didn’t mean you could play tennis now,” he protested. “I meant after you had recovered from your operation.” “Oh, that,” said Miss Day. “I recovered from that the day I left the hospital.” That’s Doris Day on the health side. But more important, her “rest” in the hospital had given her time to think over certain other matters. As a result, she had decided that she was going to learn about baseball, and swimming, and tennis, and fishing, and all the other sports she never had time for when other kids were picking them up instinctively. She would recapture her youth while she was young enough to enjoy it, and old enough to appreciate it. That’s exactly what she’s doing, with enthusiastic support from Marty and Terry, who are enjoying their roles as sports instructors to the full. And Doris is having more fun than she ever dreamed possible. All the confusion and all the indecision are gone. And what will happen in the future? Back once more to the drifting, aimless program of letting whatever will be, will be? No, it’s a delightful philosophy and makes a charming song, good for a fortune in records alone, but it’s no longer for Doris. She has found her career, her family and her home. 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