Redfield Arts

AN ACTOR'S JOURNAL #2

JANUARY 28, 2008

THE TWO-FACED ACTOR Part One

Although this essay was written several weeks ago, I delayed publication upon hearing the news of actor Heath Ledger’s death. Somehow, many things that have been said by the public and by pundits on the internet and in the media regarding Ledger mirrored this essay. I’ve decided to include my thoughts on Ledger's death at the end of Part 2 of THE TWO-FACED ACTOR.

It seems appropriate that the first published reviews of Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde appeared in the month of January.

The month January is named after the Roman god Janus, which can roughly translate to mean “door”. The god Janus is usually depicted, in painting and in sculpture, with two faces, or two heads. And so January becomes, literally and metaphorically, the “door to the new year”. And a door, symbolically, has neither a beginning nor an ending; it allows one to move in opposite directions, to come and to go. And so Janus also symbolizes change and transformation, the threshold of change, the dividing point of youth and old age, of chaos and civilization, of good and evil.

In Stevenson’s well-known story, even if the theme is known in its broadest strokes and not in detail, Utterson, a lawyer friend to one Dr. Henry Jekyll, plays detective to discover the details of a mysterious man called Hyde who seemingly has a dangerous strangle-hold on the old doctor. As Utterson investigates, and fears that Jekyll may be blackmailed, he is revolted to learn of Hyde’s horrible nature. An evil nature that soon leads to the murder of a respectable member of London society. Before Utterson can unravel the mystery of these two very different beings, it is Jekyll himself, after his death and in his own diary that solves the mystery. Jekyll and Hyde is one and the same person. By using a chemical, Jekyll transformed into “another”, and assumed the identity of “Hyde”, and kept this a secret from all others, including his friend Utterson.

Upon publication, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde captured the imagination of the Victorian reading public. The themes of the story resonate today. It also immediately captured the imagination of actors and theatrical producers.

While Stevenson’s story of duality and the themes of good and evil were used by Victorian clergy in their sermons, American actor Richard Mansfield grasped the enormous potential of these characters for performance, and seized upon the opportunity to create a stunning characterization for the stage less than a year after publication.

Mansfield’s play, adapted by Thomas Russell Sullivan, opened in Boston, in the United States, in May of 1887.

From the New York Times review of May 10th:

Before an audience that filled every seat at the Boston Museum this evening, Mr. Richard Mansfield, an actor of remarkable versatility, unusual perceptive powers, and a perfect command of all the minor resources of the stage, gave form and substance to a character entirely new to the drama. If the effect had gone no further than that the performance would deserve to be recorded conspicuously as an important theatrical event. Mr. Mansfield’s gift of mimicry and his skillful use of the art of ‘make-up” were both called into important service in the new play, and his ability to express vividly some of the worst passions that beset humanity, to depict clearly the traits of cupidity and malignant spite, was brilliantly demonstrated. With these and a picture of physical terror and demoralization not often equaled by an artist so young in experience as he was couple, or rather contrasted, the portrayal of a just, sound-hearted and benignant man, and both tasks were undertaken by the same actor. It must be confessed at the outset, however, that he was more interesting and more impressive in picturing vice than in the expression of virtue and sentimentality.

Mansfield was famous for this play and toured with it, keeping it in his repertoire until his death.

The production was invited to Britain by the great English actor Henry Irving, and Mansfield took the play to London, where it proved as popular as ever. His performance was so popular, and disturbing to the public’s imagination, that during the peek of the investigation into the Jack the Ripper murders, the authorities asked Mansfield to suspend presentation of the play, as to not stir additional public fear. The play resumed performances soon after the Ripper murders ended.

It is said, in some of the lore associated with the Ripper investigation, that Mansfield himself was briefly a suspect. Although unproven and still in many ways a rumor, it is said that an audience member in 1888 was so frightened by Mansfield’s performance, by his transformation, that he notified the police and accused the actor of the Ripper murders because he didn’t believe that any actor could be so convincing and not be an insane, homicidal maniac in real life.

This may seem strange, if the story is indeed true. If untrue, the legend of Richard Mansfield becoming a suspect in the Ripper murders has grown into acceptance, and that fact, in and of itself, is worth looking into.

Why would an actor, celebrated on the stage and held in high esteem, become a suspect in a murder case, simply for playing a deranged, amoral killer?

Assuming that the story is true, the obvious answer is that the transformation Mansfield demonstrated in 1888 was experienced as real, beyond art and artifice, and thus caused fear. It was too good, for its own good.

The real answer is less obvious, at first. Mansfield was made a suspect in the popular imagination of Ripper-ologists because he was an actor. An actor who demonstrated, live, onstage, the very dual nature of the actor’s work. By doing so, Mansfield becomes victim to an anti-theatrical, anti-actor prejudice that continues to taint and cause misunderstanding of what an actor does and what an actor is, to this very day.

Richard Mansfield is certainly not the first actor to be viewed in this prejudicial way, and I don’t mean to imply that his portrayal of Edward Hyde is the first time the public viewed a performance with mistrust, either. Historically, the actor has always been viewed with suspicion, and has been made “an outsider” in society.

It has something to do with how we, as human beings, consider the self. Each of us, at any given time, considers our self, our identity, to be absolute, and unchanging. Have you ever done something, say, made a mistake, and surprised yourself by exclaiming, “That’s not me! I never do that!”, and have been troubled by the revelation? It’s because our sense of self is an idea, or rather an ideal, of who we think we really are, constructed by us, individually.

Coupled with this, we like to think that others are who they are, too, and not something else.

Years ago I threw a Halloween party, and costumes were mandatory. It was a big blow-out, and I invited many people from the theater and art scene, knowing that there would be some spectacular and very creative costumes. I lived in a large house I shared with two others; David, a set designer, and Holly, who worked in theater administration. We decorated the house from front to back, top to bottom, and where Holly chose to dress as a World War One pilot, I chose to do a make-up and costume as Frankenstein’s monster, and David, after shaving a beard he wore for years, made-up as The Bride. It was all very funny. By 8pm the night of the party, there were 150 people swarming the joint.

At about nine o’clock, in order to get some fresh air and take a break from the crush of costumed partiers, I walked a block or so over to a popular watering hole to hook up with a girlfriend that I had been seeing at the time.

At the bar, an hour flew by as costumed folks came and went, showing off what they’d dreamt up for the night. Realizing I was neglecting my own party (but assuming that I wouldn’t be missed as there were so many people choking my house) my girlfriend and I headed back.

David caught me at the front door, and excitedly told me that my father, Tom, had just left, and I’d missed him. I forgot that I’d invited him! Many of my friends had met my father, and knew him a bit, so it wasn’t difficult to understand that many people then were telling me that I had missed him in the hour or so that I was gone. But the most interesting part was the descriptions of my father’s appearance during his brief visit.

Some people were convinced that it had been my father; some were equally convinced that it was someone dressed as my father. All of them were slightly creeped out by the experience…

A few minutes after I left the party, a man arrived wearing a bright yellow suit. Everyone who told me about their experience mentioned the suit. Couldn’t miss it, they said. The man wore a dress shirt and a tie, and as he silently mingled through the crowd, never saying a word, people noticed that he was wearing a mask—a hand-painted life mask of my father.

Friends who knew him, and recognized the face, greeted him. The masked figure never spoke, but simply wandered the party. After about 30 minutes, he left.

Like I said, reports were evenly split. Some thought it was indeed my father, some just weren’t sure, because, they said, he didn’t walk like my father, didn’t say anything, or was taller (or shorter) than they remembered. All of them found the experience un-nerving. Even if it was him, it didn’t seem like him, said one good friend, who was taught ceramics by my father, and knew him well.

What disturbed people so profoundly, even in this event of masquerade, where dressing up and putting on a mask to become someone else is accepted, was the deep uncertainty of what should be wasn’t necessarily what, or in this case, who, it should have been.

The mask hangs on the wall of my office to this day. Dad confessed and came clean. Yes, he was at the party. He said he took great delight in being a “blank” version of himself. He actually referred to the escapade as the “other Tom” once in conversation. He told me later that when he saw the shadow of doubt pass people’s eyes, and they became suddenly unsure of whom he was, they moved away from him. I plan on trying the experiment myself one day, at a future Halloween party…

But, back for a moment to Richard Mansfield, and the dual nature of the actor’s work, and how the public perceives it.

Continued next week in part 2 of THE TWO-FACED ACTOR

COPYRIGHT 2008 Mark Redfield. All Rights Reserved.

AN ACTOR'S JOURNAL #1

JANUARY 14, 2008

The Caroline Munro Interview 2007

Drawing by Robin Grenville Evans.
Used by permission.

Caroline Munro is regarded by her most passionate fans as The First Lady of Fantasy. From her Hammer films of the 1970’s and starring roles in fantasy films such as At The Earth’s Core and The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, to the assassin Naomi in the James Bond adventure The Spy Who Loved Me, and her roles in cinema today, Caroline Munro’s beauty and talent have captured the hearts of movie-goers internationally..

In this first entry for AN ACTOR’S JOURNAL, Caroline Munro talks about her early work and being “discovered”, and the turning point in her career when she went to work for Hammer Studios.

Munro began her career as a model in London. Born in Windsor, the teenage Munro won a “Face of the Year” competition after her mother submitted her photograph to The Evening News, the British newspaper sponsoring the contest. Success came fast, and she was modeling for Vogue Magazine by the time she was seventeen. Film work began with bit parts in such films as Casino Royale (1967) and Where's Jack (1969).

This breakfast chat between Caroline Munro and me took place one chilly Sunday morning in April, 2007, at the Cinema Wasteland film expo in Ohio. It was early morning, the final day of a three-day fan convention. The hotel dining room was just beginning to fill up with hungry celebrities and folks eager to get the day started. After chatting about some future business, we turned the conversation to her early career and the vampire films she has appeared in.

A CONVERSATION WITH CAROLINE MUNRO

MARK REDFIELD: Do you remember where you were, in your career, when DRACULA A.D. 1972 came up?

CAROLINE MUNRO: I did a big billboard, a big poster, in England, for a drink called Lambs Navy Rum. And it actually became a quite well-known and famous poster. Sort of a landmark poster, in so far as it was a first to have such an aggressive woman in it—the pose I mean. I was the first female to wear a wetsuit and a knife! It was a very aggressive ad to sell this rum, and apparently, so they say—

(Caroline breaks off in mid-story and her hazel eyes flash—she smiles.) It’s awful to talk about yourself! It’s really weird…

MARK: I know.

(The noise in the restaurant has increased. Constant clatter and buzz of voices as more people come in for breakfast—Caroline shrugs, almost imperceptibly, and continues.)

CAROLINE: But they said their sales shot up. Supposedly sales shot up. I did the campaign for twelve years. And in the meantime, Sir James Carreras had seen the poster. He used to travel up and down on the train and the poster was a massive great thing outside all the stations, you know, with me with this wetsuit on. And he asked me in to go and do a reading, which I did. And I actually did a screen test, too. From that I was offered a contract. They didn’t have contract players apparently, for a year. But that was towards the end of Hammer, which I didn’t know at the time.

(Sir James Carreras was the head of Hammer Film Productions.)

MARK: And the first film you did with Hammer is DRACULA A.D. 1972…

CAROLINE: Yes, that was the first one. That was a little role. So they offered me that, and that definitely was my turning point.

MARK: What do you mean by “turning point”?

CAROLINE: I had done a few films before that, but that was my turning point, when I worked with Christopher Lee, and when I worked with all of those young, up-and-coming actors. Suddenly I thought, this is what I want to do. I absolutely know. And I loved it. Something felt so natural and, having come from no training—I was working with Stephanie Beecham and Michael Kitchen, the young “Brit Pack” actors of the time. And of course you have Christopher (Lee) and Peter (Cushing)— they’d all come from RADA, they’re all RADA-trained, and there was me—having no formal training. I’d worked on films. I’d worked with Richard Widmark as his daughter, but, I was just playing myself and had no idea what I was doing!

(Caroline refers to the Royale Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA)). Stephanie Beecham had appeared in Michael Winner’s “The Nightcomers” (1972) opposite Marlon Brando. A Golden Globe winner, she has since worked steadily in American television. Michael Kitchen had appeared in British television prior to DRACULA A.D. 1972, and in recent years has been seen as Bill Tanner to Pierce Brosnan’s James Bond in the Brosnan-era 007 films.)

MARK: Were the other actors kind, you being new to the scene?

Christopher Lee and Caroline Munro in Dracula A.D.

CAROLINE: They were great! They were absolutely great. And I did those scenes with Christopher, and it was wonderful.

MARK: So, the early film work and modeling, to quote James Cagney, was just “a job of work”?

CAROLINE: Yes. I would turn up on time and, you know, say my lines, and maybe a little bit mechanically. No training. I worked with Richard Quine on Bell, Book and Candle. And on Talent For Loving (1969). There was Cesar Romero playing my grandfather and Richard Widmark as my dad! Fantastic actors! And I was what? Eighteen or nineteen? New kid on the block. I had no idea it was a huge Paramount film. I was chosen to play a Mexican-American girl. And I was working with all these people! (Richard Quine, an actor-turned-director, helmed two of the last Peter Sellers films, The Prisoner of Zenda (1979) and The Fiendish Plot of Fu Manchu (1980). Sadly, he committed suicide in 1989.)

MARK: Were your parents supportive of your career?

CAROLINE: My parents were there. Paramount flew them to Madrid, where we were shooting. They had a wonderful apartment. We stayed there. They looked after me. I was the baby. It was an extraordinary experience but it really didn’t register, ‘til I started doing that film (DRACULA A.D. 1972), that acting was my passion.

MARK: What was your friends and families reaction to your getting a contract with Hammer Films?

CAROLINE: They were pleased! My father was a lawyer--

MARK: So he looked the contract over twice…

CAROLINE: (laughing) Yeah, he did, actually…But my mum, a housewife—you know, they were not ambitious for me. They were just loving, fantastic parents. Very supportive. If I wanted to do it, that was fine with them. They were never pushy or said, “Oh yes, you gotta do this and you gotta do that.” Not at all.

MARK: Did they have any opinion about working for Hammer, in that it wasn’t Hollywood—Paramount or Warner Bros., for instance?

CAROLINE: No, not at all. I certainly didn’t. Actually, I didn’t know too much about Hammer at the time. I only knew that once I did it, (DRACULA A.D. 1972), that I was hooked on acting.

MARK: What was the reaction to you and the film when it came out in England?

CAROLINE: I got a lot of press. Quite a lot of press, I remember. Even though it was a teeny-weeny, little role. I ‘spose the attention was because of the little things I wore. I mean, it’s always based on the physical stuff—more-so, then. Absolutely. The physical stuff and then the one particular scene with Christopher reviewers kept pointing out that they thought was quite good.

MARK: In the early 1970’s, Hammer had produced a number a films, vampire films that featured nudity. The Vampire Lovers, Twins of Evil, and Vampire Circus come to mind. And in mainstream cinema, “casual” nudity was accepted. I’m thinking of Sally Struthers in Five Easy Pieces, for instance. Was there any pressure from the producers to do nudity, and what went into your decision not to do nude scenes?

CAROLINE: I’m not prudish, and people can do what they want. Just for me, it was a personal choice. It’s something I didn’t want to do. Plus, I think it’s more “what you don’t see” that’s more interesting. For me, it’s nice to have a little mystery. Maybe I’m an old-fashioned girl! A little bit, anyway!

MARK: After DRACULA A.D. 1972 was released, what were the immediate career benefits? What did you do between DRACULA A.D. 1972 and CAPTAIN KRONOS-VAMPIRE HUNTER?

CAROLINE: There were the two Phibes films right after.

Vincent Price and Caroline Munro in The Aboninable Dr. Phibes

MARK: Was the Hammer contract exclusive?

CAROLINE: Well! It was exclusive. I thought it was. Now how did they…? In the meantime, I was asked to do the two Phibes films, but with no credit…

MARK: …really…

CAROLINE: …which is very odd. My agent--I had Dennis Selinger, who was at ICM at the time--and he said, “Oh yes, you know, just go ahead and do it. Do it.” And Hammer didn’t…Was that before or not?...Isn’t that awful!

MARK: I’ll double-check the dates.

CAROLINE: You’ll have to. Because I’m very bad on dates! This was so long ago! But it was all about that time. I think I was uncredited because I had a contract—if that makes any sense.

(Turns out that the Phibes films we’re talking about pre-date DRACULA A.D. 1972. Starring Vincent Price, the shockers The Abominable Dr. Phibes (released in May, 1971) and the sequel Dr. Phibes Rises Again (released in July, 1972), featured Caroline as the diabolical Phibes’ corpse bride, Victoria. So the film that Caroline did between A.D. and KRONOS is the Ray Harryhausen fantasy film, The Golden Voyage of Sinbad. Dennis Selinger was, perhaps, Britain’s most powerful talent agent. He discovered Peter Sellers, and had on his client list, at various times during his career, Michael Caine, Roger Moore, Sean Connery and others. Selinger passed away in 1998.)

MARK: Let’s talk about KRONOS, but first, because of the project that I’m currently developing that we were talking about this morning, I wanted to ask you if you were up for the role in—

CAROLINE: --Jekyll and Hyde—“Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde”--

MARK: Not only that, Hammer’s last Frankenstein film?

CAROLINE: Oh, I was thinking of your film. I don’t think so. Not to my knowledge. That Maddie (Madeline Smith) played?

MARK: Yes, that’s it. Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell.

CAROLINE: No. I was definitely up for Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde.

MARK: With Martine Beswick…

CAROLINE: My best mate! And she was fabulous! They looked perfect together. She and Ralph Bates. If I was casting it, I wouldn’t choose me. Not at all.

MARK: So how did KRONOS come about? Did you have to read for it?

CAROLINE: Well, not really. Because don’t forget I’d just done A.D., and I was under contract, so they were trying to find a project. And then Brian Clemens came along, and said, “She’s right for my gypsy.”

MARK: Carla was your first major role. Looking back on KRONOS, what do you think of the film today?

CAROLINE: I think the film stands out. I’m amazed. I did see it at the time when we recorded the commentary track for the DVD release, so it would be two years ago, and I just think it stands out, actually even better today, because it’s kind of a timeless thing which is odd because—obviously—KRONOS meant “time traveler” in Greek, I believe. So it has a kind of timeless feel to it, to me. I think it still stands out today—because it didn’t have too much graphic violence in it, hardly any sex or anything, it didn’t have the excesses, but it had a kind of spiritual feel—in a way—which I think the kind of esoteric feel, I think—um—maybe works today.

MARK; What did you think of your leading man?

CAROLINE: Of course it had sword fighting which I think was brilliant—I think Horst did an amazing job with that—I think he did an incredible job and he was with Bill Hobbs—the fight director---and I think that was just a great scene. He worked really hard on that and I think it really paid off---one of the highlights of the film for me, was the sword fighting.

MARK: How was Brian Clemens as a director and how did he work with you?

CAROLINE: Just a fabulous director to work with. Because he had a—he’s very English, and has a very—kind of—dry sense of humour. At the same time—and he didn’t go on, sadly, to direct any more films.

MARK: No, no feature films.

CAROLINE: He was a wonderful director, very quiet, he knew exactly what he wanted. Very, very good with actors. He had a kind of—you felt very confident with him. Because I hadn’t done a lot of work in those days, so I was pretty much a novice, working with other really good people. It was quite an important role for me because I ‘spose one of the first leads I’d done—so I kinda felt, you know, I had to do my best and he was great with me. I think, in fact, he was so good—I look on him as a bit of a mentor ‘cause he went on to suggest me for SINBAD –as he did the screenplay. I think he’s wonderful. And I asked him—I think I told you this—I asked him why he didn’t do any more and he said “because he wasn’t asked”!—to direct. Which is very strange to me because I thought he did a brilliant job.

MARK: Have you spoken to Brian since the KRONOS audio commentary?

CAROLINE: Yes! We’ve seen each other. He did a short thing for his son—a 15-20 minute piece for his son and it was shown at a festival in London. It was very good. His son’s very good-looking and a very good actor. Sam—Sam Clemens. Who I’m sure will do very well. He’s very young. So he has a lot of time in front of him. But he (Brian) did that for him. And so we saw him there and we had lunch with him—last year we had lunch with him in London, so we kind of—I’m hoping he’ll do some shows—he’d be a great guest.

Mark: You took a long break in your career, didn’t you?

CAROLINE: Took a long time off to have my girls. I took a long time. And of course in that time, I had my girls late, and in that time everything changes. And of course you’re not offered the roles. Yeah, I was offered some roles, but not really what I wanted to do. The roles stopped, really, I ‘spose. I took really, ten years off, which is really a long time. I worked a lot in Europe after—in the eighties, and I worked a lot in Europe with some really interesting directors. And you change, not just physically, but in your outlook. You’re growing, aren’t you? You have a family. What is the most important thing and how you deal with things—I suppose and it’s been tough, the last few years have been tough I have to think of it as a positive

MARK: You’re talking about your personal life and not so much your professional life?

CAROLINE: Yeah, the personal life. The career was wonderful. I never sought anything, really. I never pursued anything. I was not ambitious. It came to me.

MARK: So you weren’t ambitious and aggressive?

CAROLINE: Not at all. Never. I was so surprised when people asked me—and thrilled.

And ask her I did. Caroline will star with me in THE MADNESS OF FRANKENSTEIN later this year.

NEXT WEEK: THE TWO-FACED ACTOR