"41"

When Simon and Garfunkel came out with the song “Mrs. Robinson” on the soundtrack for the coming of age film “The Graduate” (1967), baseball great Joe DiMaggio was angry about the lyric that asks, “Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?” Then one day Simon and Joltin’ Joe met coincidentally at a restaurant where, according to Simon, they “immediately fell into conversation about the only subject we had in common." "What I don't understand," DiMaggio said, "is why you ask where I've gone. I just did a Mr. Coffee commercial.” Simon explained that he didn’t mean it literally – he just meant that he considered Joe a hero at a time that “genuine heroes were in short supply.” What he didn’t say was… And now, you are doing a Mr. Coffee commercial.

Lana Turner, born in Idaho as Julia Jean Mildred Frances Turner (couldn't they make up their minds?), was discovered by an industry insider while enjoying a soda at a Hollywood café. She was only 16, but still, there was something about her. No kidding. Audiences got their first glimpse of Turner in the 1937 thriller "They Won't Forget." Wearing a form-fitting skirt and sweater, her role was brief but memorable, and before long, she became known as "The Sweater Girl." Predictably, a nickname like that aroused attention, particularly among the male population. Apart from her many films, Turner's tumultuous personal life (seven husbands, eight marriages) ensured she was always in the public eye. She once aptly referred to her own journey as "a series of emergencies."

Many of us have lost someone we love way too soon. After the initial shock and grief recede somewhat, the prevailing feeling (at least for me) is waste. Wasted opportunity. What more could that person have done with his or her life? I feel it too with famous names in the arts who left us way too soon.

I can vividly recall the first moment I saw Meryl Streep on-screen. The film was “The Deer Hunter” (1978). Her part was relatively small — she played the stateside love interest of two men shipped off to Vietnam — but I was immediately struck by her presence. 

Just like the image of her fragile, unconventional beauty trapped within the glow of a tight spotlight, Judy Garland’s life as a performer was surrounded by a vast darkness. She gave the world her special gift, and it gave back not a shred of happiness. There was an overarching sadness about her that only grew more pronounced as the hard years went by. As Frank Sinatra put it, “When she sang, it always felt like she died a little.”   It was tragic pretty much from the outset. When overbearing show mom Ethel Milne found she was pregnant with her third child by husband Frank Gumm, she attempted to induce miscarriage by throwing herself down a flight of stairs. Failing that, she tried to get an abortion. This desire may have partly stemmed from Ethel’s growing suspicion that her husband was homosexual. Regardless, a family friend finally convinced the couple that this little one would be a blessing. They hoped for a boy. On June 10, 1922 they welcomed their third daughter – Frances Ethel Gumm – the combined hopes of her mother and father right there in her name.

 Tonight, make it real; watch a doc.  Here’s a bugaboo of mine: while the documentary form offers viewers incredible rewards, it rarely gets the attention it deserves. Theories abound as to why, the most prominent being that people tend to watch movies to be transported, to actually get away from life as it is. Perhaps there’s some truth to that, but to avoid the best of these films is to miss out on something truly special. In examining real life, its myriad characters and society as a whole, docs can be wildly entertaining, yet still deliver a form of insight and impact quite distinct from narrative films.

Over the course of movie history, there have been the great actresses, women who light up the screen with charisma and character, like Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn, and Meryl Streep. There have also been women whose special gifts had more to do with the sexual allure they projected. Hey fellas, you must have noticed them, right? Brace yourselves then- here are our picks for the top twenty female cinematic sex symbols of all time. (Drum roll). 

Given the reverence for Hitchcock’s 1958 masterpiece today, people are often surprised to learn that on release, “Vertigo” was a bit of a dud, barely recouping its costs and generating only mixed reviews. This tangled tale of murder and obsession may simply have been too twisted for Eisenhower-era audiences to accept.

Katharine Hepburn, whose birthday falls today, remains the only actor or actress to be awarded four Oscars. Yes, Meryl has long since surpassed her on nominations, but Kate still leads on wins. Few people now realize that by the end of 1938, after just six years in Hollywood, pundits were saying Kate was all washed up. In 1939, the year many point to as Hollywood’s finest, Kate didn’t have a single movie credit.  True, she got her first break early enough, as talking pictures in the early ‘30s were always searching for young, attractive Broadway-bred comers who could actually speak. Kate made an auspicious debut in 1932’s “A Bill Of Divorcement," opposite the aging, alcoholic John Barrymore (who played her father).