The Best of Everything
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All Encyclopedia text, from A to Z, is copyright © 2004 - 2008 by Stephanie Jones
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The Best of C
James Cagney • James M. Cain • Campbell's Funeral Home • Milton Caniff • The Caretakers • Carmel • Mildred Carroll • Jack Carson • Casa Brasil • Billie Cassin • Henry Cassin • Casting Couch • Charles Castle • William Castle • Walter Catlett • Chadwick School • Chained • Charlotte Chandler • Jeff Chandler • Lon Chaney • Roy Chanslor • Chauveron • Chelsea Cinema • Childhood • Christian Science • Jerry Chrysler • Cielito Lindo • Cleanliness • Club Richman • Cock 'n Bull • Cocoanut Grove • Herman Cohen • Harry Cohn • Joan Collins • Columbia Pictures • Contracts • Jack Conway • Tim Conway • Jackie Coogan • Lucille and Nellie Cook • Ben Cooper • Gary Cooper • Jackie Cooper • Ellen Corby • Ricardo Cortez • Noel Coward • Mitchell D. Cox • Sharon Crane • Cathy and Cindy Crawford • Christina Crawford • Christopher Crawford • Crazy Crawford • Bosley Crowther • Mike Cudahy • George Cukor • Tony Curtis • Mike Curtiz
Joan and Cagney were friends. The picture to the right, given to Joan in the early '30s, was inscribed with: "This, Joan, is the Westmore version. If it bothers or begins to pale after a time, let me know and I'll send along something closer to the original. In any case, my very best to you, Jim Cagney." Click here to read a March 1972 letter from Joan to Cagney, expressing appreciation for a recent Cagney-week on TV.
Campbell's Funeral Home. Located on Madison Avenue in NYC, Joan's funeral was held here on Friday, May 13, 1977, at 10am. (LY) Around 75 people attended this service for close friends and family, including Joan's four kids and brother Hal's daughter Joan Crawford Lowe Fuller.
See this site's Caniff Art page for two personal sketches Caniff did for Joan in the 1960s (including a full-length "Dragon Lady" sketch). Comic Art & Graffix Gallery. Wikipedia page.
Carmel (California). Joan often took her children for weekend vacations there. (MD) Carroll, Mildred. Dubbed Joan's voice in the "Rhythm of the Day" number in '33's Dancing Lady. Carson, Jack. (10/27/10 - 1/2/63) An actor who had a 25-year career, Carson played the greedy Wally Fay in Mildred Pierce and also co-starred with Dennis Morgan and Doris Day in 1949's It's a Great Feeling, in which Joan made a cameo appearance. IMDb info. Casa Brasil. A favorite restaurant of Joan's in New York City. Cassin, Billie. Joan was born "Lucille LeSueur," but her childhood nickname was "Billie" and she used her stepfather's last name "Cassin" after her mother's remarriage. (See Henry Cassin info below.) Cassin, Henry. (c. 1867 - 10/25/22) Joan's stepfather, whom her mother met (and married circa 1908) after moving her family to Lawton, Oklahoma, when Joan's father, Thomas LeSueur, abandoned them. Cassin was a small man of Irish descent who dressed flamboyantly and operated Lawton's "Ramsey Opera House" and "Air Dome Theater," home to travelling vaudeville shows and such. Joan thought he was her real father (she was known then as "Billie Cassin") until about age 11, when brother Hal informed her otherwise. Cassin encouraged Joan's dancing, even paying for lessons, and let her hang around his theaters and the show people. Said Joan in CWJC: "If I could really give credit to the people who helped me the most, I guess he'd top the list, even after all these years...." In 1916 or so, he was accused of embezzling and the family moved to Kansas City, where they briefly operated the rather seedy Midland Hotel. (In the Essential Biography, author Quirk says that Joan told him that she and Cassin had had sex when she was 11 and that this is what prompted the family upheaval at that time.) In Kansas City, Cassin enrolled Billie in the St. Agnes convent school and initially paid her tuition, but when he left the family soon afterwards, she was forced to work for her keep. (CWJC) Months after Cassin left her mother, Billie would roam downtown KC looking for him; she found him once and he took her for an ice-cream. She never saw him again. (JCB)
While various Joan bios speculate that Cassin seems to have disappeared completely after this time and possibly died in 1919, in fact his actual whereabouts and death and burial are a matter of public record. Specifically (according to Cassin researcher Katie Soto): He died on October 25, 1922, in Nashville, Tennessee, where he was a resident businessman, and was buried October 31 in Lawton, Oklahoma's Highland Cemetery. (His mother, Mary Lyden Cassin Delehanty, is also buried in Highland Cemetery, as are his half-sisters Katherine and Mary Delehanty, and his brother William, who died in a car accident near Lawton in 1918.)
From the Lawton Constitution: HENRY CASSIN TO BE BURIED HERE Former Lawton Citizen Dies Suddenly In Nashville of Heart Attack.
Funeral Services for Henry Cassin, former Lawton citizen who died Thursday in Nashville Tenn., will be held at 9 o'clock Tuesday morning at the Catholic church. [The service was given by Father Lamp.] Mr. Cassin died suddenly of heart trouble while on a business trip to Tennessee.
The body arrived in Lawton today noon accompanied by the two sisters of Mr. Cassin, Miss Mary and Miss Katherine Delehanty. St. Clair's have charge of the body.
Mr. Cassin will be remembered by many Lawton people. For years he was engaged in the abstract business here later going in the oil business which took him away from Lawton.
Mr. Cassin was 48 years old. [This age is disputed. Census records show he was more likely born around 1867, which would have made him around 55.] He was born in Davenport, Iowa.
He is survived by his mother, Mrs Delehanty, two sisters, Miss Katherine and Miss Mary Delehanty, and one brother Michael F. Delehanty, who resides in Washington. He will be unable to come to the funeral. Pallbearers will be Ray Keegan, Dick Jones, Bob Landers, J. H. Mullins, Charles Graybill and E. G. Warren. Henry Cassin's mother, Mary Lyden, was born in Galway County, Ireland about 1849. Her brother, Patrick Lyden, was also born in Galway County, and their parents John and Julia Henry Lyden came to the United States in 1855 to Davenport, Iowa. Mary married her first husband, Cassin, around 1865; she had three sons--Henry J., William, and James--with him. Her first husband passed away, and she then married Michael Delehanty. Census records indicate Henry was born around 1867. The 1900 Census for Iowa shows Henry living with his mother Mary and her husband Michael Delehanty and their children. The entire family moved to Lawton, Oklahoma, a few years later (where, according to the RootsWeb site, Henry Cassin married Joan's mother Anna Belle Johnson around 1908). Many thanks to researcher Katie Soto for providing the until-now-unknown above information on Cassin. See Cassin's entry on RootsWeb.com for more information on his family background. Casting Couch, The. I remember finding a Joan quote online that said something like "I'd rather sleep on a casting couch than on a cold hard floor." (If you know the exact line and in what context she spoke it, please e-mail me.) This was also one of the supposed names of the supposed porn film she made prior to coming to Hollywood. (LY says it was also known as "The Plumber"--See also X-rated Movie.) In CWJC, Joan says of the figurative "casting couch": ...Louis B. didn't approve very much of the casting couch, so that wasn't a very big thing at Metro. A lot of actresses, however, could be intimidated, and were. They were not only vulnerable, they were willing to do damned near anything to "make it" in Hollywood and not go back to St. Paul, Minnesota, to spend the rest of their lives up to the ass in kids and snow. God only knows how many times the casting couch was used to get a part or a contract, and how many tears were shed when that little fling on the couch didn't turn into anything. Castle, Charles. British writer and TV producer, author of the 1977 Joan bio The Raging Star (which isn't, contrary to its claims, "authorised"). Castle had done a documentary on Noel Coward that aired on NYC TV in 1974. He expressed an interest in doing a similar show on Joan and the two met several times to discuss it; Joan didn't like how the Coward program turned out, though, so decided against working with Castle. (LY)
IMDb info. The William Castle Story.
Catlett, Walter. (2/4/1889 - 11/14/60) Blustery comic of the Ziegfeld Follies and Joan's co-star in Rain. During the welcome dinner for the Rain cast, Joan tried talking to Catlett about her interpretation of the Sadie Thompson character. Catlett responded: "Listen, fishcake, when Jeanne Eagels died, Rain died with her." (What a gent!) (JCB) IMDb info. Chadwick School. Palos Verdes, California, school founded in 1935 by Margaret Chadwick. Each of Joan's children attended it (most famously Christina, as she recounts in her book Mommie Dearest), only to be withdrawn by Joan in November 1954 in a fit of pique. School link.
Chandler, Charlotte. Author of the 2008 Joan bio, Not the Girl Next Door. See the Books page for more information. Wikipedia entry.
[After observing Chaney] I became aware for the first time of the difference between standing in front of a camera and acting. Until then I had been conscious only of myself. Lon Chaney was my introduction to acting. The concentration, the complete absorption he gave to his characterization filled me with such awe I could scarcely speak to him. He demanded a lot of me. A lot of times I was afraid I wasn't giving him what he wanted to play off, but I guess he thought I was okay. (EB)
NY Times film page. IMDb page.
Chauveron. One of Joan's favorite restaurants in NYC. (MWOL) Chelsea Cinema. This NYC theater (on West 23rd St., between Seventh and Eighth Avenues) features a "Thursday Classics" movie-night. In March 2004, their star of the month was Joan in Possessed ('47), Berserk!, Flamingo Road, and Strait-Jacket. (There have since been numerous Joan evenings; in March '06 I attended a screening of Berserk there; Harriet Craig and Baby Jane were on the spring '06 schedule; and Flamingo Road showed again in September 2006.) The evenings are hosted by drag diva Hedda Lettuce. Chelsea home page. Childhood, Joan's. Says Joan in the intro to CWJC when asked about happy moments in her life: Well, we can skip childhood because I didn't have any. Not one goddam moment on the Good Ship Lollipop. Boarding houses and hash joints and dime stores and chorus lines is about all I remember, but I'm not complaining because if it hadn't been for that sort of a beginning there'd have been no Joan Crawford. I agree with the English writer, whoever he was, who said that a miserable childhood is the ideal launching pad for success. I was sure as hell not going to repeat my mother's miserable life. No way. Later in the book she elaborates on her school days: I never had a chance to be part of a clique, something every little girl wants, and I never had any close chums. Instead of being pretty I was "different," and you know how damned cruel kids can be to anyone who's "different." I kept thinking I might be popular if I stood out more, so I did three things--I walked around looking as though I was self-assured, but I came off brassy. I did little things to mother's dresses to make me look different, but I came off a freak. And I worked my ass off learning how to dance, but I became an exhibitionist. If there was a laughing-stock, a class joke, it was little Lucille. Look, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. True, I was lonely at home (if you can call boarding houses and kitchenette apartments and a few sleazy rented houses home) and lonely at school, but a lot of it was sheer stubbornness and perverseness. I guess maybe I didn't want to conform, and I paid the price for that. See also Johnson, Anna Belle , LeSueur, Hal , Cassin, Henry. Christian Science. A spirituality and health movement founded by Mary Baker Eddy. (Eddy's ideas on the subject were first published in 1875, in her book Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures; four years later her Church of Christ, Scientist was founded in Boston.) Joan became a follower of Eddy's teachings in the 1930s, and continued to be influenced by its practices until her 1977 death. Said Joan in CWJC: I can't say that I'm [a] strict [follower]. I do things a really disciplined Scientist wouldn't do, but I firmly believe that the body can cure its ailments through faith instead of medication or surgery. I realize there are times when one must have a doctor, but we can take care of most things ourselves, with faith and prayer and patience. I think Science would be a wonderful answer to the drug and dope problems we have today. I think it would have been of great help to people like Tyrone Power, Marilyn Monroe, and Judy Garland, who made drugs a way of life. It also teaches you moderation. I should really practice more strictly...but I've done wonders, at least as far as a certain peace of mind is concerned, to carry it this far. (For Joan's views on religion in general, see the Religion entry. For more information on Eddy, see the Mary Baker Eddy Library site.) Chrysler, Jerry. A frequent dance partner of Joan's in her early days of Hollywood. The two won a cup at the Cocoanut Grove one chilly night, then went driving in his roadster while still damp with sweat... Chrysler came down with pneumonia and later died. Joan had a huge floral display of gardenias spelling "Jerry" made and created a bit of a scene at his funeral, causing his mother to be carried out. (JCB) Cielito Lindo. Joan and Doug's name for the house they shared at 426 N. Bristol in Brentwood. The name is literally Spanish for "Beautiful LIttle Heaven," but is also used as a general term of endearment. Though I don't know whether this is where the couple got the name, it's also the title of a traditional Spanish song (used in '70s US TV commercials with new lyrics: "Ay ay ay ay, I am the Frito Bandito..."). See also El Jodo. Spanish/English song lyrics.
Look, they keep the upholstery clean, and I so seldom have guests these days, that I might as well be as orderly as possible. With all this crap in the air--nothing stays clean that isn't covered. We do not live in a hygienic age. Maybe I've always been a nut when it comes to cleanliness. When I was a kid I'd scrub the hell out of the rooming houses and crummy apartments my mother and her husbands lived in...and even after I had the money to hire an army of housekeepers and maids I ended up doing the cleaning myself because they never got things really clean. It's just part of being civilized, that's all. And I'm not about to apologize for it. I had one hell of a time with [second husband] Franchot. He found it amusing and irritating, both, and there were times I could have strangled him when he'd answer the phone and say, "Sorry, she can't speak to you right now; she's cleaning the toilets." That's one thing I could never understand, out on the Coast. I'd go to a party at someone's house, more like a mansion, really, and I'd go to the bathroom and have to wipe the seat with wet toilet paper before I dared sit down, or I'd sit on a couch, wearing a white gown, and come away with a film of dust. Once I went into the kitchen for a glass of water, and when I turned on the light the cockroaches scattered like mad. I don't understand this sort of sloppiness, and I don't think I ever will.
Club Richman. Seeking to supplement her income while working on her 2nd musical with J.J. Shubert ("The Passing Show of 1924"), Joan begged Nils Granlund and Harry Richman (two bigtime NYC radio stars) in the fall of 1924 for a performing job at their new hotspot Club Richman (157 W. 56th St.). The club was considered one of the most lavish and popular of New York's 100,000 speakeasies and catered to the bigwigs, charging a $6 cover (today's equivalent of over $75). Granlund gave her a featured spot as a Charleston dancer and extra money for teaching the Charleston to his other dancers. (And, more importantly, introduced her to MGM's Marcus Loew, who set up a screen test for her.) (JB) Cock 'n Bull. A frequent lunch spot in Hollywood for Joan (sometimes accompanied by daughter Christina). They also supplied secret spices for her famous coleslaw. See Recipes. (MD, MWOL)
IMDb info. The Man and His Movies site (with clips/photos/reviews, etc., from the Joan films)
Cohn, Harry. (7/23/1891 - 2/27/1958) Head of Columbia Pictures. In CWJC, Joan says Cohn "loved to sample the goodies." IMDb info.
Collins' career rebounded mightily in 1981, when she made a very grand entrance on the 2nd season of the US TV series Dynasty as Queen Bee Alexis Carrington. Ratings for the show soared, and Collins remained a regular on the show until its demise in 1989. Since then, Collins has remained an international glamour-girl---writing novels, making guest appearances on TV, marrying much-younger pretty boys, and most recently co-starring on Broadway with her former Dynasty nemesis Linda Evans. In Collins' 1997 St. Martin's Press autobiography, Second Act, she wrote about meeting Joan Crawford in July 1956: In spite of Maxwell Reed’s [Collins' first husband] cynical advice, I always tried to get on with everyone on the set and it was only when I met Joan Crawford, some months later, that I discovered what he meant when he had said, “A star should pull rank. A star must be bigger than life.” I’d been invited to a ‘Welcome to London’ party at my favorite haunt, Les Ambassadeurs, for Miss Crawford, then married to Alfred Steele, chief executive officer and president of the Pepsi-Cola company. The newspapers had been full of her starry arrival at London Airport: a huge black limo was followed by three white Pepsi vans, on top of which was stacked Joan’s massive amount of luggage, each piece emblazoned with a large J.C. The star took over the Oliver Messel suite at the Dorchester for The Story of Esther Costello, which she was making for my friend the producer James Woolf. Joan Crawford was also an executive producer of Esther Costello and, ever mindful of costs, Jimmy told me that she had reviewed her wardrobe budget and had lopped off thirty thousand dollars from the original seventy thousand by such drastic measures as leaving the sable and mink trims off the hem and sleeves of several dresses, and having a coat lined with velvet instead of seal. The ultimate sacrifice had been for her to wear the same pair of shoes several times in the movie. I went to the Esther Costello party with Gordon White, a theatrical agent, popular man-about-London and, since I was now separated, an occasional date. Miss Crawford had wanted all the women attending the party to wear either ballerina length or long gowns, so I put on my best bib and tucker to mingle with such august persons as Laurence Olivier, Vivien Leigh, John Gielgud, Noel Coward, Marlene Dietrich, Edith Evans, Rita Hayworth and, of course, Laurence Harvey, who was starring opposite Joan in Esther Costello. Joan Crawford was ensconced like an empress on a tall chair at one end of the triple banqueting rooms of Les Ambassadeurs. A middle-aged, regal, but not terribly attractive woman in a sea-green silk dress embroidered with sequins in the fashionable ‘short in front and long in back’ style. With eyebrows as thick and dark as Groucho’s, lipstick and matching nail varnish obviously ‘Jungle Red’, and hair done in a curiously old-fashioned forties’ style, which was echoed in her ankle-strapped, platform-soled stilettos, she was a formidable sight. When each guest was brought over to greet her, she extended her hand graciously, giving a more than passable imitation of our own dear queen. When Jimmy introduced me as ‘one of England’s newest and brightest young stars’, Miss Crawford didn’t take my outstretched hand. Her eyes swept me dismissively from top to toe, her lip curling disdainfully at my low-cut white organza top and full black and white tulle skirt. She obviously didn’t like what she saw so she didn’t deign to speak to me, but chatted animatedly to Jimmy. I wanted to tell her that my mother, a great Crawford fan, had named me after her, but I didn’t think she would have the stomach for such trivia. At the National Film Theatre Q & A session in London in 1956, Joan Crawford mentioned Collins briefly: You know, our, um, my director on this picture Esther Costello [David Miller] has just done The Women, or redone it as The Opposite Sex, with a great cast and I think he had twelve women, they all got along beautifully. And he didn’t know who to cast in my part and, uh, I said why don’t you look at this one and that one. So he got Joan Collins and I said ‘you stuck with J.C., didn’t you?’ (Thanks to James for contributing the Collins book excerpt and Crawford interview excerpt.) IMDb Collins info. Joan Collins Shrine. Official Collins site. Columbia Pictures. Joan made several pictures for Columbia: 1942's They All Kissed the Bride (on loanout from MGM); 1950's Harriet Craig (on loanout from Warners); 1955's Queen Bee; 1956's Autumn Leaves; 1964's Strait-Jacket; and 1968's Berserk. Contracts. As I find them, I'll be posting links here that lead to pages where you can read some of Joan's actual business contracts. 1947 Warners contract for 14 films. 1947 letter from Joan to Twentieth Century - Fox RE director of photography for "Daisy Kenyon." 1948. Two "Flamingo Road"-related Warners contracts. 1950. A "Harriet Craig"-related contract. 1950/1951. A "Goodbye My Fancy" and a general Warners contract.
Classic Movie Kids page. Golden Silents Page.
I was
seventeen, and I began to go over to Joan Crawford’s house to play badminton.
She was a friend of my mother’s and, over the years, had offered me the use of
her court. She didn’t have room for a tennis court, so had put in a badminton
court, and I had learned to enjoy playing the game. The court was right off the pool house,
and one day, sweaty from an hour of exertions, I went into the pool house with
Joan. I was thirsty, and she poured me a Coke. As she bent over, I looked down
her dress. “You’re growing up, aren’t you?” she
said. I was brash, fresh from some romantic
triumph, I suppose, and I made some remark which I assumed was sophisticated,
witty, and very sexually provocative. “You had better get out of here, young
man,” she said. But I didn’t go. Instead, I made a move
toward here, and she stood up, looked at me appraisingly, and then closed the
drapes. And I made love to Joan Crawford. Or, rather, she made love to
me. Over the next six months or so the
performance was repeated eight or nine times. After the first time, however, it
was always late at night. I would set a date with her, then manage to sneak out
of the house after my mother and stepfather had gone to sleep. I would roll my
car down the street until I was far enough away so I could start the engine
without waking them. And I would drive to Joan’s house. She was a very erudite professor of love.
At the time I suppose she was in her early thirties. I was seventeen. She was a
wild woman. She would bathe me, powder me, cologne me. Then she would do it over
again. She would put on high heels, a garter belt, and a large hat and pose in
front of the mirror, turning this way and that way. “Look,” she would say. I was already
looking. But that sort of thing didn’t particularly excite me. I kept thinking:
The lady is crazy. But I recognized she was an extraordinary
performer, that I was learning things most men don’t learn until they are much
older – if at all. There was never any drinking or drugs with her. It was all
business. She was very organized. When I left, she would put me on her calendar
for the next visit. I could hardly wait. One night, after one of our sessions, she
said that was the last time. She said I should never call her
again. “And put it out of your mind,” she said.
“It never happened.” And then she gave me one last kiss and
added, “But we’ll always be friends.” I was floating during that period.
Fortunately, I had enough sense not to blab my conquest all over town, but it
was a magnificent secret to have. My friends might brag about some pimply-faced
teenager or gawky sixteen-year old they had had, and I would nod my
congratulations. And I would think to myself: But I have been with one of the
Love Goddesses of the Screen. Maybe I didn’t say anything because I had enough
sense not to. But maybe it was because I knew they wouldn’t have believed
me. The last time I saw Joan Crawford was when I was doing a guest shot in Peter Falk’s Columbo series. She was on the Universal lot at the same time, doing something, and the studio was buzzing with the news that Crawford was around. By accident, I happened to run into her, and she took my hand, looked into my eyes, and, I think, remembered.
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