Posts Tagged ‘Hollywood’

Dr Alfred Kinsey and Kenneth Anger unearth Aleister Crowley’s Satanic frescoes in Thelema Abbey, Sicily.

Geoff Stanton

“As Keith and Anita learned more about the powers of darkness, they grew secretive. They knew the subject frightened me, and they got rid of me when Kenneth Anger or other demonic friends came to call. Keith was impressed when Kenneth ticked off all the great artistic rebels who’d flirted with black magic – Blake, Byron, Oscar Wilde, Yeats and De Quincey…” (Tony Sanchez, Up and Down with the Rolling Stones)

There is something largely missing from popular cinema and music these days, and that’s Satan. I might be sounding old-fashioned – but Satanism had some style. While 1969 turned many things bad – Hells Angels, heroin, peyote, Charles Manson, Dick Van Dyke – Kenneth Anger’s pact with the devil was reaping psychedelic fruit. Anger was a powerful force. His grasp of the symbolic – reckoned with the Satanic creed of ‘Do What Thou Wilt’ – alchemised into works such as Scorpio Rising and Invocation of My Demon Brother, and dealt the decade a final score.

And along the way he also scared some people. In fact, his “awesomely evil 11-minute masterpiece” Invocation – starring himself, Anton LaVey (the High Priest of the Church of Satan), Charles Manson sidekick Bobby Beausoleil (later to serve life imprisonment with Manson for first degree murder), and featuring documentary footage from a satanic cat funeral, a ceremonial skull smoking session, a mummified psychic and a synthesized Moog soundtrack by Mick Jagger – was not as out of this world as the man himself.

Kenneth Anger, camera in crowd, shooting footage that will end up in ‘Invocation of My Demon Brother’.

“We all were just a little afraid of Kenneth” said Tony Sanchez, the Rolling Stones’ drug manager, in his Stones biography. “Again and again inexplicable things involving him would happen. Once, for example, Robert Fraser arranged an opening party for some white sculptures that John Lennon and Yoko Ono had created. I saw Kenneth clearly at the party, but when I went across to talk to him he seemed to have vanished.

“I thought little of it at the time until that afternoon when Anita, Marianne, Keith and Mick all said that they too had seen Kenneth but had been unable to find him. ‘Anyway’ said Anita ‘it’s very strange because Kenneth told me he wouldn’t be able to come to the exhibition because he was going away on business in Germany’. Kenneth didn’t return to London for two weeks, and by then numerous people all remarked on having seen Kenneth across the crowded room, but had been unable to speak to him. Eventually we asked almost everyone who had been there if they has spoken to him – and none of them had”.

Kenneth Anger sporting his trademark Lucifer tattoo.

The myth of Kenneth Anger quickly spread through the shakers’ inner circles.  The Rolling Stones, Marianne Faithful, Jimmy Page – all were eager to move in its current. “Kenneth Anger told me I was his right hand man” Keith Richards told Rolling Stone Magazine. “It’s just what you feel. Whether you’ve got that good and evil thing together. Left-hand path, right hand path, how far do you want to go down? Once you start there’s no going back.”

By ’69 Anger was considered a fierce original in Europe and the United States – both influential and genuinely independent.  From his early 1947 film Fireworks, through to Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome (1954) and Lucifer Rising (1972), Anger became, as Jonas Mekas put it “one of the most complex personalities working in cinema.  Whatever he does, be it cinema or life, he does it fully, to the bottom… Kenneth Anger, the True Cosmic Explorer.”

The Kenneth Anger enigma begins in 1935, back-dated by his own hand, where he claimed to have performed the role of the Changeling Prince in the Warner Brothers film A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Whether or not the child was him is debatable – studio key books state the character was played by a girl named Sheila Brown. Anger’s biographer denies this. Bullshit or not, the claim somehow adds to Anger’s ability to transcend the chair.

“Kenneth Anger claimed to be a Magus, though he refused to reveal whether toad sacrifices had been necessary for his promotion” wrote Sanchez. “What is indisputable is that Anger does appear to have certain powers, and he has been linked with extraordinary incidents.”

Kenneth Anger/ Sheila Brown as The Changleing Prince from 1935′s Midsummer Night’s Dream. IMDB goes with Brown. His later work Rabbit’s Moon was also influenced by this film.

At the Cinémathèque Française, 1955.

With an interest in the occult piqued at an early age by Frank L Baum’s Oz books, by the 1950s Anger was travelling the Satanic grottoes of Europe – voyaging firstly through Italy to make a film about the sixteenth century occultist Cardinal d’Este, before emerging in Paris around 1955 (where he met Jean Cocteau). He continued to produce short films, filming 20 minutes of footage for his film Rabbit’s Moon (set under a blue filter, it involves a clown longing for the moon) at the Films du Pantheon Studio. When the studio closed the production down, footage was stored in the labyrinthine archive of the Cinémathèque Française.

In 1955 Anger spent three months in Cefalu, Sicily to shoot a documentary about Aleister Crowley’s frescoes in Thelema Abbey. The Abbey of Thelema was a small villa establised as a temple and spiritual centre by Crowley  in 1920. The name was taken from Rabelais’ satire Gargantua and Pantagruel, where the Abbey of Thélème was an ‘anti-monastery’ in which inhabitants spent time “not in laws, statutes, or rules, but according to their own free will and pleasure.”

Thelema Abbey, Cefalù, Sicily, circa Kenneth Anger.

Early Hollywood star Jane Wolfe at Abbey of Thelema at Cefalù, Sicily. She lived there from 1920 until it closed in 1923. Wolfe kept records of magic practice, later published by the College of Thelema in Northern California, as The Cefalu Diaries. She gave up a Hollywood career to join Crowley.

Anger’s film would have made an fascinating excursion – complete with shuddering organ, grotesque undercoats and a resident evil, no doubt. But unfortunately it has been lost. “The film was made for Houlton Television which was  a branch of Picture Post – an extinct British Magazine.” said Anger “They lost it. I tried to find it and it’s untraceable. I lived in Crowley’s house, alone, but that kind of thing doesn’t bother me. I had to. It was the only way to get it done.

“I spent three months there scraping the whitewash, which had turned to stone, off the walls. They were still there – all those hyper-psychedelic murals: goblins and demons in fabulous color, scarlet and pumpkin-red. Actually they were good paintings, similar in feel to Ensor”.

But it was the 1960s that truly brought the demons to the surface.

Satan was getting a lot of press. And Anton LaVey – founder and head of the Church of Satan – was spearheading business. The symbolism and ritual of the occult appealed to the anti-establishment; hippies were looking further than flowers, thinkers were pressing the boundaries. On the screen, occult-obsessed films had sprung from the drying patch of Hammer horror – movies such as Eye of the Devil (starring Roman Polanksi’s beautiful but doomed wife Sharon Tate), The Devil Rides Out, The Devils Own and – perhaps – later on The Exorcist. Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby was the cream of the crop – LaVey adding it was “the best paid commercial for Satanism since the Inquisition.”

Anton LaVey in Kenneth Anger’s Invocation of My Brother Demon. He plays … Satan! He would later be technical adviser for The Devil’s Rain, a story of a cult of devil worshippers starring Ernest Borgnine, William Shatner, Tom Skerritt, and John Travolta.

In 1966 blonde starlet Jayne Mansfield - reputedly a Church of Satan Priestess (following some publicity shots she did with LaVey) -  stole the headlines after being virtually decapitated in a car accident, alongside boyfriend Sam Brody. Anton LaVey, reportedly obsessed with Mansfield, took it badly. He had put the curse on Brody.

Gossip now dragged Satan through the undertow of magazines and media. And LaVey seized the wheel. In 1969 he publicly married journalist John Raymond and socialite Judith Case, performed a satanic funeral of Navy machinist-repairman Edward Olsen at Treasure Island (reciting the eulogy while a Navy musician played Taps), performed a satanic baptism on his own 3-year-old daughter Zeena (who chewed gum throughout), appeared on Johnny Carson’s seventh anniversary show and released the Satanic Bible.

A Satanic wedding in the 1960s.

Satanists Michael Aquino and Anton LaVey with Sammy Davis Jr, Circle Star Theater. Davis reportedly noticed Anton LaVey in the front row, and gave him the Sign of the Horns. He was later presented with a second-degree certificate, medallion, and membership card for the Church of Satan.

LaVey and Jayne Mansfield in a series of publicity shots, shortly before her death.

It was also around this time Anger began to gather a reputation. And around the time he started working on his opus, Lucifer Rising.

Again to Sanchez: “His life’s work was to have been a film of homage to the devil, Lucifer Rising. For the role of Lucifer Anger employed a good looking young man named Bobby Beausoleil, who played guitar with the Californian rock band Love. Mysteriously, after many months of filming, Beausoleil appeared to go beserk and carried out a singularly bestial murder which ended with his writing on a wall with his victim’s blood”.

Rumour has it that Beausoleil was kicked out by Anger after he hid an enormous parcel of marijuana in house. Anger later claimed that the guitarist took the footage for Lucifer Rising with him, and buried it somewhere in Death Valley. Kenneth Anger therefore placed ‘the curse of the frog’ on him – by trapping a frog in a well.

It was not long afterwards that  Beausoleil became associated with the Manson family and murdered music teacher Gary Hinman – after a bulk sale of LSD to some bikers went bad. He is currently serving a life sentence for first degree murder.

Bobby Beausoleil on the doorstep of Anger’s Russian House, ‘Do What Thou Wilt’. Bobby Beausoleil did, and is now spending his life in prison. 

The role of Lucifer was subsequently offered to Mick Jagger, with Jimmy Page brought in to compose the soundtrack. Page’s interest in the occult is well known – from the early seventies he owned an occult bookshop and publishing house, “The Equinox Booksellers and Publishers” in Kensington High Street, London. The company published a facsimile of English occultist’s Aleister Crowley’s 1904 edition of The Goetia. Page had also purchased and lived in Crowley’s estate of Boleskine – an old home by the side of Loch Ness in Scotland, originally purchased by Crowley because its isolation and layout reflected the order required to speak to spirits, as per instructions found in the The Book of the Sacred Magick of Abra-Melin the Mage.

“I feel Aleister Crowley is a misunderstood genius of the 20th century” Page told Sounds Magazine in 1978. “Because his whole thing was liberation of the person, of the entity, and that restrictions would foul you up, lead to frustration which leads to violence, crime, mental breakdown, depending on what sort of makeup you have underneath. The further this age we’re in now gets into technology and alienation, a lot of the points he’s made seem to manifest themselves all down the line.”

For personal reasons – heroin – Page never completed the job. What he did deliver was twenty-three minutes of music three years later – five minutes short of Anger’s demands and the final cut. Page recently released the recording as ‘Lucifer Rising and Other Soundtracks’ in 2012.

Anger’s view of Page has meanwhile soured over the years.  “He’s a multi-millionaire miser,” he told Mark Berry, in a great interview for Bizarre Magazine. “He and Charlotte, that horrible vampire girl – the druggie that got him on heroin – they’re both junkies. They had so many servants, yet they would never offer me a cup of tea or a sandwich. Which is such a mistake on their part because I put the curse of king Midas on them. If you’re greedy and just amass gold you’ll get an illness. So I did turn her and Jimmy Page into statues of gold because they’ve both lost their minds. He can’t write songs anymore.”

The final soundtrack was delivered – remarkably – by the incarcerated Beausoleil. And it is quite stunning; an hypnotic reel of looping psychedelic guitar, with ancient harmonics fuzzing at the core. It was Anger’s most expensive film because it involved a trip to Egypt. In the film Marianne Faithfull played Lilith – a demon. “I said to Marianne Faithfull, don’t bring any drugs because they’ll execute you” recalled Anger. “So she hid her heroin in her makeup box underneath her face powder. I think she was powdering her face with heroin.”

Marianne Faithfull before The Sphinx as Lilith the demon, in Kenneth Anger’s Lucifer Rising.

And the hallucinogenic stories from The Rolling Stones camp meanwhile continued to flourish. Tony Sanchez relates Anger’s participation in the wedding of Kieth Richards and Anita Pallenberg – which he suggested be a pagan ceremony. He then explained that the door of the house where the ceremony is held must be painted gold with a magical paint containing special herbs, which represent the sun.

“The next morning I was awakened by Anita yelling hysterically to Keith from the hallway” says Sanchez. “I pulled on my dressing gown and ran downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. ‘Look Tony, look’ she screamed pointing to the door. I was astonished to discover that it had been fastidiously painted inside and out in gold. ‘It must have been Kenneth, but I can’t work out how he did it’ said Keith. ‘The security people put the strongest lock you can buy in that door, and there’s no way anyone could have got a spare key.’ ‘It must be another of Kenneth’s powers’ said Anita. ‘It means he can fly into the house anytime he wants to’.

On the subject of magic, Anger cryptically told Mark Berry: “I never talk about it with people that aren’t magicians. Because they would think you were a fucking liar.”

Anger himself offers a more sober assessment of his transmuting abilities. In Out! Demons Out!: An Oral History of the 1967 Exorcism of the Pentagon, Anger recalled his method of infiltrating the Pentagon to attack Mars, the God of War. “I just walked right in. I had studied how the Pentagon staff were dressed, and I was just like them. I wore a dark blue conservative suit. I even had a small American flag on my lapel. There were these hothead lefties, who, their idea was they would take over and kill the capitalists – not very practical.

“I had a map of the Pentagon. I went into every single men’s room and left—in a place where it was bound to be discovered, usually on the seat —a talisman which was written on parchment paper, drawn in india ink. Each one was drawn individually using one of Crowley’s talismans as my guide. They probably could figure out it was something occult. They know about those things, and they have a reference library.”

“He’s still our ruling god. Mars loves bloodshed, and he is a force that’s still operating in the world—it’s a force that according to modern thinking is irrational, but nevertheless there. Freud would have called it the unconscious or something but I believe that these are actual living entities. Not ‘living’ in the way like humans living and breathing, [but] living in a way that are much beyond our capacity, because they’ll never die.

“I didn’t stop until I had scattered all 93 of my talismans—because 93 is a sacred number for Crowley. Then I walked out, it was all very inconspicuous. The security guard looked at me and gave me a nice look, like we’re all looking after each other. If I’d been stopped and put in handcuffs that would’ve been unpleasant. That isn’t the way I want to spend my time in Washington—I had a ticket to the opera for later that week.

Film makers Donald Cammell, Dennis Hopper, Alejandro Jodorowsky & Kenneth Anger. Message to Hollywood 2012: Pull your socks up and make some decent pacts.

By the 1980s Anger was living largely in retirement, screening his films at universities and film festivals. He was also living off the pulp-gossip of his Hollywood Babylon books 1 and 2, which trawled through the scandalous underbelly of Hollywood stardom. They contained highly litigious litanies of debauch and revelation (including the Fatty Arbuckle sexual assault scandal, the murder of William Desmond Taylor, the Hollywood Blacklist and the murder of Sharon Tate) most of which continue to be debunked. Film historian Kevin Brownlow criticized the work, quoting Anger as saying his research method was “mental telepathy, mostly”.  A documentary of Anger called Kenneth Anger’s Magick was also released around this time. Its director Kit Fitzgerald claimed Anger told her he was now so broke he had been forced to sell his air conditioner.

Anger has said Hollywood Babylon 3 has been written, but is on hold in his top drawer – he can’t afford the inevitable litigation from The Church of Scientology. He has called today’s Hollywood a “dried-out prune of a place”, with stars that are not worth gossiping about. “I covered most of the people who were interesting to me in the first two books.”

Mental telepathy – mostly.

But among the murders, madness, drug addictions and demons, the best of Kenneth Anger stands out for the hypnotic power of his films. “Like many people, I was astonished when I saw Kenneth Anger’s Scorpio Rising for the first time,” Martin Scorsese said in an introduction to the released DVD. “Every cut, every camera movement, every color, and every texture seemed, somehow, inevitable, in the same way that images of the Virgin in Renaissance painting seem inevitable—in other words, pre-existing but dormant, and brought back to life through some kind of evocation.” Anger’s splicing of pop soundtracks with imagery – as far back as 1964 – is also regarded as pioneering, influencing Scorsese’s generation first-hand.

And whether his other-world powers remain intact or not, Anger today remains a rarity and a raconteur, stranded somewhere between Old Hollywood and modern oblivion. He remains both reviled and respected. Depending on where you stand.

As mentioned, there are a number of interesting interviews with the man. Check out Mark Berry’s intriguing chat with the bloke. Below are videos Lucifer Rising, Anger’s commentary on Invocation of My Demon Brother and lastly his 2004 revisit to the Crowley’s Thelema Abbey.


By Geoff Stanton

“They called John Cassavetes a cinema-verite director in one of the obituaries. That’s French for ‘the cinema of truth’, the kind of documentary film-making where the director stands back and doesn’t interfere, while things happen naturally. John Cassavetes never made a cinema verite film in his life. He was always in there up to his neck, swimming against life and shouting instructions to those in his wake. But don’t take that as a criticism. Cassavetes made films that gloriously celebrated the untidiness of life, at a time when everybody else was making  neat, slick formula pictures.” (Roger Ebert, ‘Awake in the Dark’ 1989)

“He deliberately tried to keep you off-balance, so you wouldn’t bring out old-fashioned technique and old ideas” said Peter Falk. “But it was impossible. I didn’t understand him. I wanted to strangle him.”  In 1970 the volatile friendship of Peter Falk and John Cassavetes yielded Husbands; criticised – by Ebert amongst others – for rambling scenes, chaotic turns, infantile meandering. Fair enough. But the story of male friendship remains genuine and true to form – a testament to the friendship that actually broke through the sweat-session improvisations and, for Falk and Cassavetes, endured through to the director’s death.

Pitched against Cassavetes’ creative momentum, Falk’s quiet instinct was not far from Columbo’s own shrewd intellect – the eternal TV detective to whom the great actor remains spliced. But his work with Cassavetes thoroughly wrenched the man from the mac. “There was no character” he later later admitted. “There was me.”

“You never knew when the camera might be going. And it was never ‘Stop. Cut. Start again.’ John would walk in the middle of a scene and talk, and though you didn’t realize it, the camera kept going. So I never knew what the hell he was doing. But he ultimately made me, and I think every actor, less self-conscious, less aware of the camera than anybody I’ve ever worked with.”

Cassavetes’ work was usually about the personal politics of strain; women go mad (or start off mad), men stay lost, dark, rebellious. His story pitch is bare, ripe with alienation and anger. Husbands was the story of three friends – Falk, Cassavetes and Gazzara – fast approaching forty, angrily aging in a fuel of alcohol and frustration, yearning for the freedom and the strength of youth. After a funeral of a friend they go on a bender that takes them as far as London and almost beyond return.

But Falk’s introduction to the idea actually began en-route for a hot dog. Recognising Cassavetes at an LA Lakers game, they began talking respective projects. Cassavetes’ contempt for the Hollywood system was clear – he impulsively agreed to work on Falk’s project because he respected his previous work, refusing to listen to an obligatory pitch. Cassavetes also had an idea about three old friends who went on an epic drinking binge after the death of a friend – he thought Falk would be perfect for a role.

Brother, can you spare a dime? Peter Falk, John Cassavetes and Ben Gazzara at the bar, working those extras. 1969.

Starting out as a live television star of the 1950s before leading an actors workshop when he made the acclaimed Shadows, Cassavetes had long turned his back on Hollywood and become an outsider. He pitted himself against the system, struggling to finance and distributing his own films at a time when getting a non-studio film into theaters was virtually impossible.

Peter Falk, by contrast, had started with a master’s degree in public administration and worked as an efficiency expert before deciding to take a chance on an acting career. Despite being remembered for Columbo, he had two Oscar nominations for Best Supporting Actor in 1960 and 1961—for his roles in Murder, Inc. and A Pocketful of Miracles.

'There are phases in everyone's life that are extreme' said Cassavetes, 'when emotions are heightened'. John Cassavetes, Ben Gazzara and Peter Falk mid-sweat session mode, 1969 © Time & Life images

“Because we keep forgetting that we’re in a bad situation – that’s what make it seem terrific” explains Cassavetes to Falk and Gazzara at one of their intensive work-shops, where they comb through the bar scene in countless ways. The story interested Cassavetes less than the “unguarded moments” he could catch on film, and in many ways the sweat sessions would trace the heat necessary to prep them.

“The only good part about the story was that it served as a basis for us to use for our individual expressions” said Cassavetes. “Actors will put their money where their mouth is, and directors won’t – that’s what it boils down to in my book.”

The alchemy of amateur and professional actors – with some performances from extras that Cassavetes claimed ‘are better than professional actors’ – produced a long, but innovative and genuine film that left Falk (who reportedly even got mugged for real while filming in New York) recharged, invigorated and slightly beweildered. “I had no idea what Husbands was about” he admitted after the shoot was through. “After it, I told him, ‘I’ll work with you as an actor, but not as a director’”.

John Cassavetes, 1969

Peter Falk and Ben Gazzara. Improvising or not? You decide. 1969

A scene that may have come straight from a Husbands improv featured on The Dick Cavett Show, where Falk, Cassavetes and Gazarra were invited to talk about the film. The three emerge comfortably scotched and in a cloud of cigarette smoke. True to form, Falk tries to give a serious pitch several times before being interrupted by a dancing Ben Gazarra, a commercial break and an unexpected swizzle upon Cassavetes’ shoulders.

Sony, not sure what to do with it all, labelled the film “a comedy about life, death, and freedom.”  Cassavetes meanwhile had to cut it by an hour and a half to get it down to contractual length. Columbia, the studio that produced the film, cut another eleven minutes off it anyway following some negative reviews and audience walkouts.

But the film was also praised for its innovation and genuine sense of camaraderie. Life Magazine featured the three friends – John Cassavetes, Ben Gazzara, and Peter Falk – as its cover story in May.  And the friendships endured. Cassavetes subsequently directed Falk on A Woman Under The Influence, regarded as his masterpiece, and the lesser lauded gangster flick Mikey and Nicky. He also appeared with Falk on Columbo.

“Can you recognise a difference between real sentiment, and sentimentality?” Falk ultimately challenged Dick Cavett’s audience. “We made a picture that doesn’t have any sentimentality in it. But has a great deal of feeling in it. It has the kind of emotions that we all experience, but you really don’t see on the screen. The kind of emotions that get lost – but they’re no longer contrived in our film. They’re genuine. Delight, hope, irritation, frustration, anger, friendship, love. Beweilderment, confusion. They’re all there. Go see it.’

Falk may well have agreed with Roger Ebert when he said “I met Cassavetes a few times and then I understood his films in a better way. They were like he was. Now that he is gone his films will have to speak for him, and few directors have left behind work that duplicates more exactly the pleasure of being in their company”.



John Cassavetes, Peter Falk, Elke Krivat, Ben Gazzara at the 1982 marriage of Krivat and Gazzara, © Time & Life images.

John Cassavetes, Elke Krivat, Ben Gazzara, and Peter Falk, at the 1982 marriage of Krivat and Gazzara, © Time & Life images.

John Cassavetes, Elke Krivat and Peter Falk © Time & Life images.

Published in Filmink Magazine 2010

In the late fifties Hollywood came to Melbourne in the form of producer/director Stanley Kramer’s haunting post apocalyptic classic ‘On The Beach’ starring Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, Fred Astaire, Anthony Perkins and Donna Anderson. That collision is now the stuff of legend…

Geoff Stanton

It’s now fifty years since American filmmaker Stanley Kramer – a producer and director of note who would come to define the concept of social commentary in cinema, with credits like ‘The Defiant Ones’, ‘Judgement at Nuremburg’ and ‘Guess who’s coming to Dinner’ – arrived in Melbourne to film the big screen adaption of local novelist Nevile Shute’s ‘On The Beach’. Set in the shadowy aftermath of a nuclear war, the film locates the distant Australia as the planet’s last vestige of society.

With the rest of the world destroyed or dying, Australia will soon fall prey to the winds that carry lethal doses of nuclear fallout and radiation. Looking over the precipice into destruction, the population continues on in a kind of living eulogy, grimly aware of their collective and fast approaching fate. The powerful delivery of the film’s cautionary and apocalyptic tale was unprecedented. But the Melbourne based production of the film eventually became epic in its own right.

 Stanley Kramer directs extras out the front of the Melbourne State Library as the radiation cloud moves in. As published in Philip Davey’s ‘When Hollywood came to Melbourne’, from The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA (Los Angeles, California).


“When you see such a dire warning of apocalypse filmed in your own city with familiar every day surroundings it is extraordinarily close to the bone” says Philip Davey; historian, cinephile and On The Beach authority extraordinaire. Davey’s research has faithfully followed the footsteps of production, the ghost of Aussie Newsman Ted Madden (editor and publisher of News Weekly) his spiritual guide. American Director Stanley Kramer coaxed Madden into the engine room of Hollywood then inviting him along for the ride. “Kramer originally approached him to do a feature, and ended up inviting him to become part of the crew. Madden wrote a blow-by-blow description covering the 3 months. It must have been sensational.”

Kramer’s constellation of luminaries – Peck, Gardener (knuckle-swinging Sinatra in tow), Fred Astaire (in his first dramatic role), a young Anthony Perkins and starlet Donna Anderson – certainly alighted our shores with the bombast of a highball. The myths and folklore surrounding the convergence of two wildly different frontiers – and the hauntingly poignant film created – continues to fascinate. For Australia in particular the experience of Kramer’s masterpiece stands as rare vision.

 

 

Rum, Radiation and Death Sweats

It is one of the more lighthearted moments in the Pastoral Club as the city slowly winds down:
“How much of this Gould Campbell have we got left?” one old gent asks the barkeep.
“About four-hundred bottles, sir.”
“And in its prime. Shocking. Four-hundred bottles of vintage port in the cellars and barely five months to go. How can the club members be expected to get through four hundred bottles with five months to go?”
“I think it needs another year actually” replies the other gent, sipping on his port.

Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner and Fred Astaire on location at Canadian Bay, Melbourne. Photos by W.John Haysom, from the W. John Haysom Collection, La Trobe Picture Collection, State Library of Victoria.

Nevil Shute’s story is strikingly devoid of the violence and mayhem implicit in most post-apocalyptic neighbourhoods. In fact, in 2009 On The Beach could almost be a nostalgic portal onto an Australia of the 1950s. Ice tinkles about the clubhouses, pool cues clatter. Downtown shoppers in high heels and pillbox hats swarm about Flinders Street Station. People frolic at the beach and yacht races are skippered in the sun. Some critics were initially scathing of the denial inherent in the characterisations. Davey says this was a fundamental misunderstanding. “To me the story of a nuclear war without any obvious destruction or carnage or anarchy just made it more realistic. The idea that people are carrying on and planting a garden that will never come actually makes it more devastating.”

It was Donna Anderson’s first major role. She and Anthony Perkins play Mary and Peter Holmes – a young Australian couple with a newborn, striving to carry out daily rituals in the face of imminent doom. As the radiation cloud draws nearer their predicament becomes heartbreaking. Perkins is forced to decide whether to issue his young family the suicide pills or wait for the inevitable. The slow unravelling of routine turns the pitch from brooding ominous to near macabre. The wilting quaver of signage (“There Is Still Time…Brother”) in front of Melbourne’s State Library, and the ever-diminishing Salvation Army band beneath it, brilliantly convey the double-edged tone characterising this remarkable film.

Stanley Kramer directs Donna Anderson and Anthony Perkins.

Anderson vividly recalls her memories. “I had been under contract to Stanley Kramer for 3 years,” she tells Filmink. “He saw me in a dance show when I was 15 and signed me to a contract, and I continued my dance classes and studied with my drama coach Nina Moise. I had occasional meetings with Stanley for him to review my progress. At one meeting he mentioned he was going to do a film called On the Beach and he was thinking of casting Debbie Reynolds in one of the parts – or he might consider me for that role. The story was incredibly powerful – we truly believed it might happen. People were buying and building bomb shelters all across America. I believe it is as powerful today – an analogy of man’s relentless self-destruction.”

“Shute based his experiences on the Blitz in London” says Davey. “They got on with things regardless of the awful blitz and carnage. He wrote about good people who had something forced on them who had done absolutely nothing to deserve this”.

Kramer felt that it was a perfectly crafted expression. “Tension between the US and the Soviet Union was constant and ominous” commented Kramer later in his career, “Many people expected nuclear war to begin at any moment and end within half an hour. The world and everything in it is either dead or doomed to die”. Kramer had in fact acquired the rights for the book before it had even been published. Australia was to be the place where a final ensemble ruminate their loss. Living as an expatriate near Victoria’s Mornington Peninsula it was probably not an incredible flight of imagination for Shute to imagine the outside world had gone silent.

From this mute world family man Captain Dwight Towers (Peck) charters the Swordfish into Melbourne’s final pocket of humanity; where scientist Julian Osborne (Astaire) rues the stupidity of mankind, the garden of Mary and Peter Holmes (Anderson and Perkins) wilts before it has sprung and Moira (Ava Gardner) – former beau of Osborne, soon hopelessly hooked on Towers – drinks to forget.

Gregory Peck as Captain Dwight Towers. From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

As Astaire immortally tells Perkins (after Perkins admits he has been trying to persuade his wife to kill herself and their baby): “I envy you. You have someone to worry about.”

If you’re going to make a film about the end of the world – Australia’s the place to do it

It was journalist Neil Jillett from the Sydney Sun who penned the controversial line famously attributed to Fiestress Ava Gardner. But, to be fair, it wasn’t wide of the mark. “You have to remember that for them at the time, it was being on the moon,” says Davey. “It was the other end of the universe”.

It was amongst the middling jostle of tramlines and churning pub belts that the Trojan behemoth of Hollywood wheeled its wares. At the time Melbourne was something of a backwater – barbells jangled for last drinks before 6pm, the meat pie with fish and chips provided cornerstones and the calendar hinged upon Cricket, footy and horse racing.

Donna Anderson remembers it fondly. “This was my first experience away from home and family and I found Melbourne fascinating. I seem to remember sheep running right down the middle of a city street! I loved all the fresh fish at from the small cafes. I was surprised at some of the whinging from colleagues longing for the easy comforts of home. I thought they were missing the adventure of this new experience. I also remember the different expressions like “I’ll ring you in the morning”. Tony and I assumed our driver meant he would telephone us, but he always ended up ringing the doorbell! I was treated so well by, but the celebrity part was sudden and strange. We had a lot of interviews. It was hard to figure anyone really wanting my opinion about anything.”

Hollywood heavyweight Gregory Peck agreed it was a story that needed to be told. He was also fascinated with the character of Dwight Towers – a man of duty who desperately missed his family. Peck saw many possibilities in this conflicted character and immediately began working on the script, sending incessant notes to Kramer. Casting the dance legend Fred Astaire as nuclear scientist Julian Osborne was, on the other hand, an inspired but risky choice for Kramer. It was one that would pay off. Astaire is a revelation.

Anderson: “I First I met Fred on the plane to Melbourne. He went out of his way to make me comfortable. Anxiety, and maybe the sleeper berths on the plane, caused me to have laryngitis so when we arrived in Sydney he did all the talking. Which was fine by me! We had a week of rehearsal and I met Tony at the studio. Tony was also staying at the Savoy Hotel. I was in a suite and he had taken a humble single room at the back. I was overwhelmed by all the space, especially after growing up and sharing a bed with my sister. Tony and I enjoyed sight-seeing Melbourne together – we ate constantly.”

From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

Peck meanwhile stayed with his family in the lavish confines of the Kurneh estate in South Yarra. The sprawling house contained antiques formerly owned by Napoleon. “Gregory Peck seemed short on humour to me,” admits Anderson “although I spent very little time with him. But the cast and crew found his over-long pauses between his lines abundant material for good natured imitation.”

Gardner meanwhile had recently been released from a five-year contract with MGM and was keen to re-establish her career with a suitably powerful role. Her involvement was an exciting but potentially fraught venture. Aware of the signature tumult that followed Gardner, Kramer wrote a morals/penalty clause into her contract in which she could be dismissed for any indiscretion bringing the Stanley Kramer Corporation into disrepute. Following her rejected income-tax application, he also sent a legal team to Canberra to explain why the star’s involvement was in Australia’s economical interests.

From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

Donna Anderson remembers Gardner fondly. “I didn’t spend much time with Ava either, but I did spend one looong night with her and one of our still photographers – bar hopping. She kept one bar open all night where I did a table dance, if I remember correctly, before going to her apartment where she made scrambled eggs. She suddenly wanted no more pictures taken and developed a change of attitude toward the photographer. She threw him out before breakfast after which I went back to the Savoy for much needed sleep.”

Ava Gardner fronts the crowds while at work. From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

Not surprising, according to Davey. “The media treated Gardner appallingly. They’d be outside her flat at about five in the morning when she came out with her hair in rollers, ready to be made up on set. She had a clause in her contract that said all photos had to be vetted by her. But rags like The Truth would have people hiding in the Tea Trees at Canadian Bay taking distorted photos of her, so it’s little wonder that she reacted the way she did. She actually went to Sydney a few times to escape it all. But then again, it was there that she threw a glass of champagne over a reporter.”

Madden concurs: “I was particularly appalled by the attitude of some of my colleagues at the press conference Ava held at Essendon Airport. This is the one thing about this assignment so far that is getting under my skin.”

Tony Charlton, Kramer’s Australian Media Liaison Officer, (later celebrated sports commentator) recalled the press conference in Davey’s When Hollywood Came to Melbourne: “Ava stepped off the plane looking gorgeous and went into a less than pretentious VIP lounge. One of the first questions was “Are you still in love with Frank Sinatra?”, which nearly ended the press conference as Ava went bananas (Gardner had recently divorced Sinatra). It was then a difficult job trying to get her and the media together. She wouldn’t talk to anybody after that”.

Davey comments: “There was a pub where they were filming in Berwick, and the story goes that they were making these gin cocktails by the bucket load for her. But she was a consummate professional and never turned up drunk on set. She did her job and she was well liked by most of the team. It was just that the media got up her nose.”

Hollywood heavyweights – Ava Gardner and Fred Astaire. From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

Gardner’s ruffled state-of-grace probably wasn’t aided by Frank Sinatra’s fleeting visit, in which he famously punched a journalist. Davey recalls: “Frank still had his attachment to her at the time, when he came to do his 1959 tour. I was actually chatting with Gardner’s chauffeur and he told me that he took her to the Chevron – which was where they had a bit of a big night that ended up in Frank decking one of the press. That was just before the show Sinatra did at Melbourne’s Festival Hall, which Ava followed him to. Sinatra said he wanted to dedicate a song to someone in the audience. The song was ‘The Lady is a Tramp’”.

Spectacle was clearly in the can well before any camera was mounted.

You mean to tell me this whole damn war was an accident?

The mammoth infiltration and mobilisation of Melbourne remains testament to Kramer’s tenacity. As he worked his way through echelons of authority he gradually roused not only the interest, but the support of institutes such as The Royal Australian Navy, The Victorian Railways, The Victorian Police and Prime Minister Sir Robert Menzies.

Due to the grim anti-war sentiment of On The Beach’s, efforts at acquiring armed carriers, a nuclear submarine and naval officers from the US Navy had fallen unsurprisingly shy. Firstly, the US Navy told Kramer, he would have to get facts straight. If there were atomic apocalypse only 500 million would die – not the entire world. One of Kramer’s prime contacts in Australia was Victorian Promotions Committee member Don Chipp (who later founded The Australian Democrat Party). While showing Kramer about town Chipp introduced the director to a wide range of influences.

Peck relaxing in Canadian Bay. From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

Prime Minister Menzies was at first reticent about helping Kramer. But he soon realized the value of having such a high profile film with Australia as the backdrop. “There is no doubt,” Menzies wrote to the Minister of the Navy “that some decent measure of co-operation is called for when a reputable company makes a reasonable request. If the company is prepared to meet all the Navy’s out of pocket I cannot see why full co-operation should not be extended.”

Kramer meanwhile succeeded in recreating the Swordfish using several gargantuan metal shells and a structure of plywood within the generous brackets of Melbourne’s Royal Showgrounds.

“Moving a Hollywood production to the backwater of Australia to produce a film of this quality was amazing,” says Davey. “At the time the Australian film industry was right down the toilet. There was no infrastructure, and Kramer had to bring most of the equipment in by ship. He also had to turn the Showgrounds into sound stages, which was almost a hopeless cause because of all the noise to contend with. You had an airport up the road, and a train station in the Showgrounds. And then there was the dog racing and trotting calls going on the entire time. By all accounts the sound guy was tearing his hair out.”

And there were other pressing problems. Despite screenwriter John Paxton’s faithfulness to the novel, the relationship with author Shute rapidly had hit an irredeemable low. Shute vehemently objected to the script’s insinuation that Towers and Moira become more than friends. But Kramer knew that he would be “lynched” by cinemagoers if he didn’t offer them something more emotionally substantial amid the gloom. Peck agreed. Meanwhile, Shute fought tooth and nail to regain control of the characters and reinvest them with moral fibre.

Kramer’s driver Robert Brown recalled Shute’s final meeting with Kramer at the author’s home in Langwarrin: “There was a hell of a blue. Kramer blew his top. I think it was the way Shute was talking.”

Says Davey: “Most people suggest that Shute was a very difficult man. Madden’s widow showed me an arch file of several hundred reams of notes – they suggest Shute never appeared on set because of his unfortunate relationship with Stanley Kramer.”

The Beach of Destruction

From a local perspective the groundswell of interest was unprecedented. “My father was actually working at the Showgrounds building phone boxes there, and one day he saw Fred Astaire” continues Davey. “Dad had grown up in the era of Fred and Ginger Rogers so he was completely blown away.”

One of the biggest problems soon became crowds of onlookers. Gregory Peck’s Personal Secretary drew a glimpse of madness in his diary: “The people here are most demonstrative when the personalities of Hollywood go anywhere. They applaud and cheer and practically tear the house down. It’s heart warming to see and hear but it can also be frightening at times. They have never had anything like this here, and the people are in a mad frenzy trying to get a glimpse of one of them.”

Peck and fans outside the Queen Victoria Memorial Hospital. From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

“The experience had a kind of ‘other-worldliness’ to it,” says Anderson. “I was suddenly in a strange country and experiencing sudden celebrity. At first, rather than enjoying it, I found that it was kind of frightening. The only person I have seen that seemed to have accepted it with relish was Cary Grant. Fred Astaire seemed quite uncomfortable with the attention.”

One woman who skirted this nexus of stardom was Rena Pope (now Rena Grantham). Australian model, society figure and Chief Instructress at the Elly Lucas School of Elegance (charges included Olivia Newton-John in the 1970s) Grantham had been cast as an extra in the pivotal party scene alongside Peck, Gardner and Astaire. “Firstly, to be an extra in that movie at the time was like being a movie star today” says Grantham. “Melbourne had nothing in it at the time, and to be involved in a big movie like this with all these movie stars was fantastic. The atmosphere was electrifying.” Grantham found Gardner particularly enchanting. “She was beautiful, absolutely beautiful.”

Evidently so was Grantham. Within a day she was being courted by Astaire. “I remember Fred came and sat next to me and introduced himself. And I said ‘No need for introductions!’. He was very charismatic, but also very lonely. His wife had died and he was also worried that he would have to go back home to his daughter who was ill at the time. When sat next to me and said “What lovely soft hair you have”. I was taken aback. I said to him “your hair is very nice too”, and he leaned over and said “It’s a toupee!”. Gregory Peck saw him with me and he was very pleased to see Fred talking to somebody.

After enjoying several evenings dining with Fred Astaire at the salubrious Hotel Ciros, Astaire asked Grantham how she would feel about accompanying him back to the US. It was an offer she declined – but often wonders what fate may have had in store had she accepted.

Astaire and Perkins in the infamous club scene. Rena Grantham is to the right in the background. From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

“I couldn’t go along with him to the US when he asked me. Unfortunately the Finishing School where I worked was my religion at the time, so I missed out on a lot, which I later regretted very much. But at the time I thought – what can you do? At least I was in one of the most important scenes of the film.” Grantham also recalls the gruelling shoot days. “At the time I thought ‘Goodness, is this how movies are made?’ It was very tiring and exhausting. For one whole day we were shooting a particular scene with Fred where he had to recite one particular line.”

Casting opportunities meanwhile provided a doorstop for a range of colourful Australian talent. Nancye Yeates, Director of The Australian Casting Agency in Melbourne, recalled: “One persistent, stout, grubby lady of about sixty, had a cardboard suitcase of ‘jewels’ for props. Another fellow, clearly disturbed, demanded an audition with Kramer. After being told for the second time Stanley was not holding auditions he pulled a knife and threatened to cut my throat. I talked him out of it on the basis that he would never get the role if he was jailed for murder”.

Last dance? Peck and Gardner. From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

It was in a Kings Cross Bar in Sydney that Kramer met the more established spectrum of Australian TV, Film and Radio, including hard-edged theatre legends such as John Tate, Harp McGuire and Guy Doleman (Dangerous Summer, Shiralee and Thunderball). John Meillon, subsequent Aussie treasure in over forty-five films (continuing to haunt as the “hard earned thirst” voice for VB) was cast Peck’s Navy Ensign Ralph Swain.

The Swordfish makes a reconnaissance of a desolated US coastline. It is this breaking-point that eventually turns Towers into Moira’s arms and Swain into madness. Swain breaks from the submarine, swimming towards the radiation-soaked ghost-town of San Francisco. For contractual reasons this was doubled by Bill Hunter. Hunter went on to play Prime Minister in the dubious On The Beach 2000 (starring Bryan Brown and Rachel Ward. “Which was awful,” says Davey). Another cut scene featured a drunk Swain wrecking a bar. With Meillon on hand this was destined to be authentic. Six prop mirrors were set up. Meillon hurled his beer bottle. He smashed a real one. The set had to be rebuilt.

From The Karen Sharpe Kramer Private Collection incorporating the Stanley Kramer Collection at UCLA.(Los Angeles, California).

Grantham also remembers one scene featuring another iconic Aussie. The scene was later also cut – possibly because it was a little too light-hearted in tone. “It was a moment in the party scene where Gregory Peck lights my cigarette and everyone is dancing. Graham Kennedy was talked into coming along and he sat at the table near where Gregory and Ava dance, where everyone was having a good time”. Kennedy ended up chatting with Astaire about dancing, vaudeville and films.

The performances from the cast are remarkable. Peck’s immersion into his character contributes to one of the film’s most heart wrenching moments with Gardner, right on platform one of Frankston Station: “In the navy during the war” he struggles “I got used to the idea that … I might not make it. I got used to the idea of my wife and children being safe at home, no matter what. What I didn’t reckon on was in this kind of monstrous war something might happen to them and not to me. But it did. I can’t cope with it.”

The End is Nigh

Final word should rightfully go to Gardner, who claimed the ‘consummate’ kiss with Peck at the end of the film (following suicide pill handout and blackout of Melbourne) is one of cinema’s finest. “As I run towards him on the dock you can see our two profiles come together as the sun sets between our lips. It was a shot that everyone had said was impossible as the cinematographer was shooting straight into the sun. But he made it work. I personally think it is one of the greatest of all time.” A special filter was also to cast an iridescent hue of radiation around the 360-degree shot. Haunting images of deserted St Kilda Road and Swanston Street were filmed early one morning, a wind machine whirling their autumn leaves. The final shot of an empty city was shot from the top of the Carlton Brewery.

The film’s Premier was as sprawling as its production. Celebrities, dignitaries, and politicians participated in a co-ordinated screening with Peck in Moscow, Gardner in Rome, Astaire, Perkins and Kramer in LA. Shute stayed at home. Meanwhile, back in Australia, the Salvation Army actually counselled people disturbed by the film outside the cinema. Following the 50th anniversary interest in On The Beach remains a powerful classic with interest still riding high. It’s dark message, and the riveting story of a time when Hollywood met Melbourne, has meant it is sometimes regarded as a curio. But there is no doubting the message is as significant and relevant as ever.

With many thanks to Philip Davey. Images sourced from his book ‘When Hollywood came to Melbourne’. Please email me for any queries.