Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1963)

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He’s had other girls. Before Clara there was Vicki Thai, John Saxon’s ex-girl friend, whom Dick met in his dance class. He has also taken out Anne Helm and Joan Benny, among others. But Dick has always been a one girl at a time man and right now it’s Clara. Clara Ray’s own career often takes her out of Hollywood singing on the hotel, fiesta and operetta circuits. But when she’s home “Clarie and Dickie.” as they call each other, make a duo. Sometimes Clara cooks Dick a steak at her tiny Hollywood apartment while he works up an appetite on her piano; other nights the same scene shifts to Dick’s hideaway. When they’re feeling grand they dress up and dine at Windsor House or Trader Vic’s for Dick’s favorite Polynesian food. Once or twice they’ve shot the bankroll at the Beverly Hilton’s Escoffier Room, where you can get a modest little snack for about $25 a copy. Afterwards, if they aren’t due for a lesson or an MPT project, they like movies, off-Boulevard productions, or opera when it’s in town. On rare workless weekends, they usually head for the beach. Thursday nights, of course, TV is a must. Clara always wears the diamond pendant Dick gave her even when she does a “Kildare” show. She gives him potted plants for his sun deck and on his last birthday, after much trial and error, baked Dick a big fudge-iced chocolate cake. “He must like me” “I wanted it to be perfect,” sighs Clara. “I spent all day on it. put in a dozen eggs and two pounds of butter. But when I took it out of the oven right before the party it looked like an oversized pancake! It was so hard that I had to use both hands to cut it. I’d forgotten to sift the flour. But Dick actually ate a piece and said it was delicious. He must like me.” Clara Ray can speak plainer than that. If she won’t, facts will: Clara is the kind of girl Dick Chamberlain has always fallen in love with — a bundle of femininity, smart, talented and loaded with personality. She’s twenty-four to Dick’s twentyseven. They like the same things, have every interest in common. To Clara Dick is “A marvelous person, so dependable and sweet and we couldn’t have more fun together.” But when you mention marriage. she gazes demurely off into space. “Why,” she says innocently, “we’ve never had that on our minds at all!" Dick’s more explicit: “Marriage? Lord no — not now,” he protests. “I want to be married someday, of course. I think that’s probably the greatest adventure of all — and the most ticklish. Too many people toss it away. I might if I married now. I’m just not ready yet. Say, when I'm about thirty-two.” Dick’s brother. Bill, is just thirty-five, but as usual way ahead of him there. Bill and his pretty wife, Pat, have three handsome children. Carole. Bill. Jr., and Mike. Like all of Dick Chamberlain’s family, Bill and Pat keep resolutely out of Dick’s career, on the premise that it’s his private party. They don’t share in his publicity and refuse to talk about Dick. The only one who’s been curious enough to visit the “Dr. Kildare” set is his mother, still so pretty that Ray Massey mistook her for an actress. But a big “Welcome” is always out on the mats, both at Laguna Beach and Woodland Hills, where Bill lives. The Chamberlain brothers are closer now than they were as kids. Dick borrows family life mostly from Bill, Pat and the kids. To “Uncle Dickie,” Bill and Pat’s children are “my kids.” Dick spoils them with presents and sneaks off to play with them when he gets a chance. He even keeps a pair of roller skates hanging in his kitchen, so he can race them on the sidewalk when he comes out. a stunt which has mixed social blessings for the junior Chamberlains. “There goes that Carole Chamberlain with her Uncle Dick.” sniffed a jealous miss from the Collier Street School the other day. “She thinks she’s pretty smartl ” Last Christmas Dick took them with him aboard a float down Hollywood Boulevard's Santa Claus Lane where they fell promptly to sleep. What the neighborhood kids thought of that is unrecorded. If Dick Chamberlain does wait until he's thirty-two to make a home and found his own family, with Clara Ray or anyone else, he runs the risk of missing out on a hunk of important living, which even the most glorious career might not make up for. By then, unless they run out of patients, “Dr. Kildare” might still be hogging the TV screen, or Dick Chamberlain might be the toast of Broadway. Either way. chances are he’ll be rich. Already Dick makes four times the $400 a week MGM paid when they signed him. plus his loot from recordings. This spring he'll keep working straight through an eight weeks “Kildare” layoff to star in his first MGM movie. Any day, if he had time, he could take off for the big money singing at Las Vegas, or the prestige clubs and hotels all around the land. Not long ago Martin Green went to Vegas with Dick to catch Carol Burnett in her act. “When she came on Dick clutched the table as if struggling to hold himself hack,” says Martin. “You could tell he was just dying to get up there.” What he makes now Dick socks carefully away in a savings account. He took on a business manager the other day though he has no wheeler-dealer financial plans. “We’ll see,” he says cagily. “Frankly. I love money and I intend to save it and keep it.” Dick bought his car, a “second suit” and tuxedo with his first MGM paychecks, has banked most of them since. His only extravagances so far are Martin Green’s paintings. “Dick is always talking about buying a new car or a house,” says Clara Ray. “I don’t think he’ll do either soon. He’s cautious and intelligent about his money.” The house is one thing, Dick admits, “I want very much. I’d like to find a lot high in the hills with a wonderful view,” and build a place to suit my own needs. Then,” he grins, “I’d really be on top of the world.” But it could be. too. by that time, he'd add up to a crusty old bachelor still looking for the real Dick Chamberlain to step forward. For, Dick faces the trap most super serious actors face: all art and no reality can come up artificiality. And so far, Dick’s street is distressingly one-way. “More than anyone I know,” says a close friend, “Dick needs the anchor of a wife, the stability of a home, a family.” If Dr. Kildare could prescribe for Dick _