As I approach unfinished territory with my writing, I will post it as it stands. However, please remember to check back, as I'm nowhere near through and will continue the writing process in this blog. In the meantime, you'll have some good information, and I will do my best to pull all of this together. Going forward, I will write from my point of view, but it will change, and I will insert Aggie into telling the story as I work my way through it.
Chapter 6: Season of the Witch
1960
“Agnes Moorehead will never be an ancient relic because she will never be an old lady.”
Agnes Moorehead
Agnes once said she knew she’d work less as she aged, “but not this much less.” Aggie knew what happened to actors as they age, especially the women. Fortunately for Agnes, she was a character actor. They generally work longer than the superstars simply because the roles they play are those of people often not considered beautiful. Aggie understood all of that. Her age wasn’t a problem, but the number of parts that utilized older women dwindled as Hollywood grew up. When Agnes started working in films, they, along with her other domain, radio, were the primary form of everyday entertainment for every family in America. The Hollywood of the 30s, 40s, and 50s was aging out of existence. So here you have an actress still in her prime and able to perform anything age-appropriate, and what happens is a crime. They just did away with the parts or put younger character actors in the parts. The 1960s were going to be tremendously difficult for Agnes because her work dropped off, which wasn’t a total disaster. After all, she did a tour with her one-woman show and had full houses with good box office.
Here’s the conundrum. Agnes was not an enormous fan of television work, and her dislike of it didn’t stem from her “Endora Years.” It stems from the fact that the scripts were often very subpar. Limited rehearsal time was involved; getting up at zero dark thirty is nobody's idea of a swinging time. She hated that she had no rehearsal time to speak of, and from the very beginning, Agnes referred to television as being on a treadmill. So no love for the boob tube there.
Pink Jungle Conspiracy Theories
Agnes chose to return to her roots and start doing theatre again. The first production she got mixed up in was “The Pink Jungle.” This is pure fluff theater, but in every review you read, all you see is that Ginger is awful and Agnes is great. There are a great many misunderstandings about “The Pink Jungle.” It begins with the hiring of Ginger Rogers and the casting of Agnes Moorehead. Rumors, suspicions, and plain old fabrications were rife with this show. Everyone had to deal with a feud between Agnes and Ginger, Ginger and the writer, and the designers. If you need to call it that, the feud did not have much to do with Ginger and tons to do with her mother. Try bullying Agne. I triple dog dare you. The show folded in January of 1960; the rest is what it is. Two powerful women are locking horns. The show was never meant to have Ginger in it, as you can see from the article below. Read on and see what you think about it.
February 9, 1959
The Los Angeles Times
Monday
Hedda Hopper
“Agnes Moorehead told me Paul Gregory wants her for The Pink Jungle with Eve Arden. The story is about the beauty business in all its phases, how it is manufactured, coddled, pampered, pulled, squeezed, and fought over.”
I hate to be obvious, but why didn’t Paul Gregory get Eve Arden? This show would have been fantastic with those two women in it. Eve could keep pace with Aggie with no problem. For a producer, Gregory seems to have had a knack for doing the right thing with one show and the wrong thing with another. I have no issue with Ginger Roger, but she lacks comedic timing and pace. She could dance backward in heels like nobody's business but could only recite words on paper the minute she started talking. Ginger was no actress; her mother was the ultimate overbearing stage mother harpie! Lela Rogers would take it on whenever a battle was to be fought. Imagine you would the verbal fray that would have happened if Lela had gotten pushy with Agnes. It could have been a pay-per-view moment! Point of fact, that argument is also in a newspaper. On January 16, 1960, an article about the real friction during “The Pink Jungle” was between Lela Rogers and Agnes. By January, “The Pink Jungle” had folded, and Ginger blamed everybody but said primarily the show was poorly written. It wasn’t; Ginger’s acting was poorly written.
The plot was rickety, but by sheer force of will, Agnes, some say, Agnes and Ginger- I don’t buy that- pulled the show together. The one thing she couldn’t pull together was Ginger’s acting. People may have come for both actresses but stayed because of Agnes. If the failure wasn’t enough, it folded in Boston, where Agnes was born.
After being accused of poor writing, the author had this to say. “I think the problem was that one actress got rave reviews for her part, written by the same author, while another (Ginger Rogers) drew pans for hers.” Exactly. Ginger should never have been cast in the part, and it had to be evident during the rehearsal process that the part was way beyond her ability to perform. She should have been replaced at that point. Ginger dared to say women were charmed by the show, but men saw right through it. So not only was she a mediocre actress, but she was also misogynistic as well. Supposedly, the whole situation created a nonexistent feud as fodder. Oddly, the same author also made a point of saying that there was no feud between Agnes and Ginger but that there was significant friction between Agnes and Lela Rogers.
The show opened on October 14, 1959, at The Alcazar Theater in San Francisco, and by October 15, the show had been paused. In theater speak, somebody doesn’t know their blocking, lines, cues, costume changes, and makeup. They paused it for three weeks. That is not normal at all. “ The Pink Jungle Falls Flat On Its Face” is the title of the article in The Berkley Gazette. If I woke up to that the morning after a show, I’d pack my luggage and head right home. This show would never go to Broadway with Ginger, but it would have done so with Eve.
Agnes then joined the cast of the television show “Closed Set” with Joan Fontaine. Agnes played the secretary to Fontaine’s diva actress. Closed set was shredded by reviewers, one of whom said it might have worked if Agnes had been in Fontaine’s role and Fontaine in Agnes’s role. Another said, “It was unbelievably bad. With dialogue that should have gone out with silent films.” OK, I see that Agnes outshone everybody in everything she did, and she was woefully underused by Hollywood. People like Ginger and Joan were stars when they were young. By the time they got near Aggie’s age, they were aging actresses who had lost their shine. Aggie, on the other hand, never lost her shine. She knew how to take lousy writing or directing and turn it into something glorious. It was one of her many gifts.
Party On Agnes
The scene is Hollywood. The actress is the legendary Agnes Moorehead. The place has seventeen different dinner parties, premieres, theatre productions, and other benefits. You read it correctly; I said seventeen. I have lived a long time, and in slightly more than six DECADES, I’ve never even come close to this number. This is just the count from 1960. No wonder she had masses of evening clothes. You can’t be seen in the same outfit twice unless it has been years, and I mean YEARS, since you last wore the gown, dress, caftan, or suit. One year, at least one outfit a month had to be put together to dazzle everyone in attendance. Unbelievable? Not if you’re Agnes Moorehead.
Remember, she’s been, and this is a compliment, a clothes horse for three decades. Agnes had been in the press outrageously many times in those three decades for simply the stylish, trendy, stunning, and “Oh my, I’d never thought of that color combination” outfits she routinely threw together. No wonder she had three walk-in closets the size of a standard bedroom full of designer clothes. Agnes threw nothing away. She gifted older outfits to friends and acquaintances but no Goodwill Drop Off for our Aggie. No sir! Agnes had many of her older pieces of clothing re-tailored into something completely different. I’m still sitting here, blown away by the number seventeen. Buying shoes and gloves for these outfits alone would cost more than I make in a year. Agnes spared no expense, you see, because she still wanted, no demanded, to be seen and silenced in a room with her presence alone. Presence is not just attitude. It’s clothing, jewelry, hair, and shoes with a matching evening bag. I can hear my wallet softly weeping in the bedroom over the expense.
You must give Agnes credit, though, because mostly, as you can see from the “dinner parties,” she didn’t have to cook or have something cooked. She ate marvelous dinners prepared by expert chefs while drinking excellent wine and finished with a costly dessert of wine and coffee. Sometimes, there would be included in the liquid refreshments, which would be crazy expensive champagne. You know what? If given the chance, I’d go into hock just for the dessert and champagne. Agnes also added a party to the party circuit, hosting a buffet party at her home with a short film on Hindu mythology involving a story called “The Creation of Woman” by Ismail Merchant, of Merchant and Ivory fame. Agnes was a literal party animal in the wilds of Beverly Hills. You go, girl!
Agnes Gets Her Name In The Papers
You would be tempted to think that negative press would be a no-no for Aggie after the debacle of her two very public divorces. Not so much. Like her Grandmother McCauley before her, Agnes Moorehead spoke her mind frequently and painfully. Around the end of the 1950s, Agnes began publicly talking about the mediocrity in Hollywood as she saw it, and she started offering criticism after criticism to the young actors in Hollywood just beginning their careers. Aggie saw them as untalented, corrupted by method acting, and lazy. Ouch. Can you imagine when she was first starting, someone saying things like that to all up-and-coming actors in the paper, how bereft and/or furious she would be? What blows my mind is that she did understand precisely how it felt because she had a Hollywood talent scout do the same thing in the 30s with one exception: he said it right to her face. She was shattered and cried for days.
Yet she was completely willing to do it to someone or a group of others and couldn’t even be bothered doing it to their faces. Agnes had long ago forgotten what it felt like to be openly criticized by an industry insider.
Not all of her press in 1960 was of that ilk. Aggiespokek on “Baghdad By The Bay” regarding theatre. She donated time to telethons and other worthy causes, which, by the way, all found their way to the press. There are two telethons close to her heart; one has to do with arthritis because she suffers from it. It’s genetic. Our family has a history of serious arthritis complications, and she knew as she aged that she was going to suffer from it. Mental Health May was the second telethon she always assisted when her schedule permitted. Agnes announced she was a bell ringer and/or anything else they needed to raise money. I’m sure you understand what motivates her dedication to this cause. She was even in a Thanksgiving parade. Agnes was the kind of person who disliked change. The attack articles, I believe, stem from her inability to cope with change.
Aggie was a very “my way or the highway” type. She came from a completely different school of life. Despite her groovy outfits, she was a Victorian woman who believed that dedication and commitment to your art should always be the driving factor in your life.
Please remember that she is of a different age. She comes from when you worked driving yourself until you were exhausted. In 1960, the world shifted toward sexual freedom and freedom of expression publicly, and young people started strolling down the lane to become hippies. This was all alien to her, and she saw it as a flaw even though those of us who lived through it came out just fine. Suffice it to say Agnes had no problem expressing herself in a ladylike way.
Agnes often donated her time to act as a judge for something as simple as a drama competition at a high school in Van Nuys. I can and will tell you what motivated her to do that. It was the name of the high school, Grover Cleveland High. The last high school her sister attended was named Grover Cleveland High. It was shortened to Cleveland, but the full name included Grover.
You need to look no further than that for her motivation. You can see her love of theatre as the driving force behind her choice of the Shakespeare Festival at UCLA; she acted on a panel of judges there. I worked in theatre for over 21 years, and I know people who would give their teeth to have her as a judge. She played to her strengths on this one. Scratch that; Agnes played to her strengths in everything she took on.
Of course, if you wanted to make Aggie smile, all you had to do was say one word:” Christmas.” This led her to the Opera Guild and a long association with the Christmas story “The Littlest Angel.” Aside from her love for Christmas, I suspect the story was the driving force. Her sister would have been “The Littlest Angel.” Agnes would have walked barefoot through broken glass for her sister. It should come as no surprise that a story she told publicly every Christmas until 1973 came to be associated with Aggie. It was a Christmas tradition going forward.
As I said, I will continue to say this for the rest of my life. Agnes knew how to get good press!
Feast your eyes upon these two examples:
1960 11 December
The San Francisco Examiner
Rose Marie Turk
“The Gentle Manners of a Stage Lady with Reservations”
When Agnes Moorehead faces an audience in real life, she underplays her role.
She is reserved, humble, and seemingly eager for approval. There are no pretenses, no Prima donna antics. Why? “I can only be myself,” says Miss Moorehead simply.
The Agnes Moorehead, who emerges from behind the footlights, is stunning. While she is fiftyish, she could pass for much younger, especially dressed as she was to represent the Monterey School of Languages at the International Education Conference held in San Francisco recently. Miss Moorehead is on the school's Board of Directors.
Her red-gold hair was braided atop her head, and she wore a royal blue ensemble with a three-quarter-length mohair cardigan. “My Beatnik sweater,” she joked.
For most of the day, Miss Moorehead was absent without her sweater. However, she is never without her modesty. Even in a rare instance when she claimed, “I’ve had more success than the average actress,” she immediately added, “I’m most grateful.”
The woman Paul Gregory called “one of the very finest actresses in show business” says success is more a matter of chance and timing.
She will cite no role that put her where she is today. People–not scripts–aided her cause…In the days of radio, Miss Moorehead’s voice was everywhere. “I did everything you could imagine and some things you could not,” she said with a throaty laugh. I was a statue that broke into tiny pieces. And she was a witch who turned into strange things and a peculiar thing who turned into a witch…Miss Moorhead is bound by no contract. “I’m a freelancer,” she says with a note of pride. Her self-determined schedule gives her an opportunity to teach drama classes in Beverly Hills, where she lives with her 11-year-old son.
Freelancing does have a dark side, as Miss Moorehead is quick to point out. “I would love to be able to sit back and not drum up jobs,” she stated. Being good to audiences, as well as their being good to her, is important to Miss Moorehead. “I’m not a beauty, and I’m not grand. I’m just a worker. I hope I have contributed in some way to my audience's enjoyment. I certainly have enjoyed them. They have thanked me so many times with their applause.”
But as she says, life is difficult under any circumstances. “We must face it in the best way we can and grow wise and wish we had many, many years to go. Life gets too short, you know, even in this jet age. I’ve had to ditch-dig my way through my career. Whether I’ve gotten anywhere, I don’t know.”
1960 2 July
Calgary Herald
AP
Lack of Recognition No Worry To Star
It doesn’t concern her in the least, but Agnes Moorehead is one of a handful of top-flight Hollywood actresses who almost always go unrecognized in public. Reason: her age and get up in character are in great contrast to her youngish off-screen appearance…”I delight in handsome clothes, jewels, and good makeup. My friends expect this of me, whereas I’m never recognized by fans. A sales lady hit it on the head the other day. She said to me, “You know you look a bit like Agnes Moorehead, but only you’re younger and more attractive, of course.”
I’m Hair Again
When you think of Agnes Moorehead, you likely think of two things simultaneously:
Red Hair
Bewitched
Agnes is famous for her “red” hair, which isn’t real. Nope, it’s a dye job, but you already knew that. What you don’t know about is a fellow named Jimmy Pendleton. Agnes had a genuine interest in interior design. She knew every swanky interior decorator in Hollywood. One of those decorators was a man named Jimmy Pendleton. Agnes had known Jimmy since she moved to Hollywood. Jimmy created quite the impression at the “Spartica Party” that he and Agnes attended by dyeing his dinner jacket to match Aggie’s hair. Agnes Moorehead’s hair was one of Hollywood's most talked-about things. It had been since she dyed it to match Robert Gist’s hair. Jimmy may have won this contest because everyone at the super swanky party was entranced by it.
Her One Woman Show
Nothing pleased Agnes more than being able to do her one-woman show. She never ceased working on it. She overhauled and perfected it numerous times, from her first one-woman show in 1954 to her last in the 70s. Agnes felt that she was born to be on the stage, and once she got there in 1951 with “Don Juan In Hell,” she never left. There were many iterations of “The Fabulous Redhead,” all of them uniquely Agnes. If you’ve heard the only existing recording I know of, you can tell a lot about the woman who created it from the content.
Agnes, especially in her later years, used her grandparents' farm, her mother’s linen water, her childhood experiences, and her father’s influence in almost every single production of “The Fabulous Redhead.” Yes, she used literature, but most of the show involved her family. Aggie speaks of how she and her sister called their mother “Madame Potpourri” because of her perpetual use of linen water made from lavender. She continues by calling herself her mother’s despair because of her inability to keep her dresses clean. She addresses lying in the grass near a stream as if it were a passage from the good book. Agnes talks of the smell of a tomato leaf, a man, and patent leather. Aggie lets us peek far behind her curtain when she talks of loving cold mornings on her grandparents' farm and how she and her sister would write their names on the frost inside their window. Yet nobody connected the dots and saw that in parts of this who she was bearing her soul. People noticed the actual literature. It is a pity that many of the audiences she played to would never pick up on Agnes describing Aggie.
Usually, Aggie began her tours in California at either a college or a local theater. She gravitated to the spaces outside of Hollywood where she believed her program would be understood or would serve to enlighten. Universities and Colleges loved having her in their season offerings because she was a big draw for them. Aggie never ceased the labor of love and called her one-woman show willingly. The only thing that interfered with it was either film or television productions that she did to enable her to do her one-woman show. Never have I seen anybody so at home in a theater as Agnes Moorehead. She was right. That was where she was meant to be.
The Gentle Manners of a Stage Lady
1960 10 December
pg 11 Petaluma Argus-Courier
“Knowledge of the stage is not enough for good entertainment as most of us who watched the last “Baghdad by the Bay” must have felt. Yes, Agnes Moorehead is a charming and intelligent woman. But she is never for one moment “off stage.” And I
don’t think I don’t think the general public is too much interested in backstage problems, any more than they care for the shop talk of newspapermen.``
1960 11 December
The San Francisco Examiner
Rose Marie Turk
“The Gentle Manners of a Stage Lady with Reservations”
When Agnes Moorehead faces an audience in real life, she underplays her role.
She is reserved, humble, and seemingly eager for approval. There are no pretenses, no Prima Dona antics. Why? “I can only be myself,” says Miss Moorehead simply.
The Agnes Moorehead, who emerges from behind the footlights, is stunning. While she is fiftyish, she could pass for much younger, especially dressed as she was to represent the Monterey School of Languages at the International Education Conference held in San Francisco recently. Miss Moorehead is on the school's Board of Directors.
Her red-gold hair was braided atop her head, and she wore a royal blue ensemble with a three-quarter-length mohair cardigan. “My Beatnik sweater,” she joked.
For most of the day, Miss Moorehead was not seen without her sweater. However, she is never without her modesty. Even in a rare instance when she claimed, “I’ve had more success than the average actress,” she immediately added, “I’m most grateful.”
The woman Paul Gregory called “one of the very finest actresses in show business” says success is more a matter of chance and timing.
She will cite no role that put her where she is today. People–not scripts–aided her cause…In the days of radio, Miss Moorehead’s voice was everywhere. “I did everything you could imagine and some things you could not,” she said with a throaty laugh. I was a statue that broke into tiny pieces. And she was a witch who turned into strange things and a strange thing who turned into a witch…Miss Moorhead is bound by no contract. “I’m a freelancer,” she says with a note of pride. Her self-determined schedule gives her an opportunity to teach drama classes in Beverly Hills, where she lives with her 11-year-old son.
Freelancing does have a dark side, as Miss Moorehead is quick to point out. “I would love to be able to sit back and not drum up jobs,” she stated. Being good to audiences, as well as their being good to her, is important to Miss Moorehead. “I’m not a beauty, and I’m not grand. I’m just a worker. I hope I have contributed in some way to my audience's enjoyment. I certainly have enjoyed them. They have thanked me so many times with their applause.”
But as she says, life is difficult under any circumstances. “We must face it in the best way we can and grow wise and wish we had many, many years to go. Life gets too short, you know, even in this jet age. I’ve had to ditch-dig my way through my career. Whether I’ve gotten anywhere, I don’t know.”
Who Is Topsy
Saratoga California
February 17, 1960
Dear Vampers Julie,
You were not too hard and brassy voice for an old-time lady of the tights–the nostalgic loneliness not overplayed–Costuming beautiful and becoming feminine hair-do. Carrie and I went along with you in the comfort of our living room-( were intrigued by the almost floor length table cloth in the dining scene–was it soft felt?) and wished a little more time had been given to you and your “son” together. Seeing Judith Anderson so cooperative and useful–I forgave her for being so callous in “Rebecca.”
I mainly glory in how well you look. Nice round arms-lovely neck and shoulders. Perfect foil for low-cut impressive gowns. Just hope some fine spring day you and family can arrive for a picnic–mayhaps “a posey we might find” on a hillside.
Aloha to you all
ever
Topsy
(There is either a name or a phrase on the lower right-hand side of the note, which is lined out with blue ink and contains letters. E*ch Leigh H****oiau. The last bit is heavily marked over. With the mention of Carrie, my best guess is this letter is from Debbie Reynolds.)
The Invaders 1961
“The secret of happiness is not in doing what one likes, but in liking what one has to do.”
Agnes Moorehead
The Secret Of Happiness
Despite her dislike of television, the 1960s proved to be some of her most successful, and they were television shows. Shows like “The Twilight Zone,” where your average person discovered that outstanding character actors don’t need to speak. Not a peep. Not one single word. When they’re as good as Aggie, they use every tool at their disposal, and boy, howdy, did she.
The Invaders
Remember when the TV Guide was in the newspaper? No, well, it was. Television rode into the entertainment industry on the coattails of radio, and radio used the newspapers to tell folks when to listen in for their favorite serial. As everybody knows, Aggie began her career on the radio. She was famous for her skill, talent, and her vocal abilities. For two decades, America tuned into various shows where Aggie had starred. In a television guide dated January 22, 1961, I saw something I’d never seen before or since in the TV Guide section, and it was about Agnes.
Not One Word
Agnes Moorehead is the only living performer in this episode and does not speak any dialogue. Two tiny invaders from outer space set upon a simple primitive woman living alone when their spaceship lands on her farm. The episode airs at 10 p.m. on Channel 2.
That’s right; the woman is famous for her diction, accents, intellect, and mimicry and doesn’t utter one word. If you have not been fortunate enough to see it, you should find and watch it. You get so engrossed in her and what’s happening to her that you forget she isn’t speaking. She uses her face, body, movement, and hair to communicate everything she thinks or feels, so you don’t notice that she doesn’t talk. It is one of the most extraordinary pieces of television ever filmed.
Hedda Hopper agrees and takes it one step further, saying she feels Agnes should win an Emmy for her performance in The Invaders. She should have because I cannot think of another actress of that day who would be willing to do it more meaningful and still have the skill to pull it off. Rod Serling understood it when Agnes was given the part. He knew there was nobody else in Hollywood who would be able to pull it off except Agnes Moorehead. It harkens back to something Agnes said in the 30s. She said if there were a role that was a pain in the neck, people would start yelling her name. Why? Because she is beyond excellent at what she does and is committed to bringing a character to life, whether the character speaks or not. I defy you to come up with a different name. Good luck with that.
Ladies, change your speech.
Agnes passionately stated, “ We can go a long way towards making ourselves over, and women should begin with their voices. If possible, record your voice and analyze it yourself. Read aloud and try to lower your pitch. I am sure that a bad voice has been an underlying cause of the break-up of many marriages. Speech is not obvious beauty, but the impact is powerful.”
I wonder if having a bad voice was the underlying cause of Aggie’s two divorces. After Jack Lee did say in his complaint that when she came to Hollywood, she started speaking “corney,” whatever that meant to him. Maybe Robert fell in love with her voice. Undeniably, Aggie had the purest speech any human ever spoke when she wanted to. After all, it made her a star on the radio, television, motion pictures, and the stage.
How The West Was Won
When I think of the film “How The West Was Won,” my first thought is that this film made Agnes Moorehead cut her hair off. I never expected to see that happen. The story is along the lines of this. This film was predominantly filmed on location. Ninety percent of the film was filmed in an area. These locations included the Ohio River Valley, Monument Valley, Cave In Rock State Park, the Colorado Rockies, the Black Hills of South Dakota, and the Mackenzie River in Oregon. Ohio is humid as a sauna in the summer, Monument Valley is hot as Hades in the summer, the Black Hills are melting-level hot, and Cave In Rock is Illinois. You got it; like Ohio, Illinois is a summer sauna.
The story goes that Agnes, who wore heavier costuming, was being crushed by the heat that her 4 feet of hair generated and grabbed a pair of scissors to remedy the entire “God, I’m Hot” situation. From this point forward, Aggie's hair never went past her shoulders. Not to mention the money she has saved by not having to dye and maintain her four feet of hair. Before you ask, I don’t know that it was exactly four feet, but when she stood undone, it was just past her knees. I cannot even imagine trying to make a film in abhorrent weather, wearing hot period clothing, wearing heavy makeup, and wearing four feet of hair crammed under a scarf, so I applaud you for being able to do it this long. When you film on location, these are the things you run into; this move was location-heavy. Aggie and Debbie fell into the Oregon River during a take and then had to be fished out. The movie was filmed in Cinerama, which brought many camera-related issues. It is a miracle that Aggie managed as long as she did with that hair.
Come Close, and I’ll Give You An Earful
In 1961, Agnes did 34 shows from California to Texas and everywhere. She was received with great enthusiasm by every venue. The venues ranged from the Baptist Church to the Alcazar Theatre in San Francisco. I do not know what her fee was for each because Agnes had what you call a flexible idea of fees. If everything written is true, she often comes out of these tours in the hole. If you have an agent or agency, they will get you a better deal. One that doesn’t involve paying for your ride into town. I’m sure hotel rooms were included, and at least one stop gave a banquet in her honor, but the rest of the time. Honey, you’re on your own.
Agnes kicked things off at Chaffey College in Cucamonga, California, and then it was off to the races!
January 9: She graced the stage of Chaffey College Little Theatre.
May 21: Part of a big concert series!
July 7: Sadly, she had to cancel a show in Charleston, Illinois, but things picked right back up.
July 10: The Mershon Theater in Columbus, Ohio, welcomed Agnes.
July 12: She performed at Northern Illinois University.
July 25: "That Fabulous Redhead" was coming to the Masonic Auditorium!
September 2: Back at the Masonic Auditorium.
September 9: The Music Bowl on Crescent Avenue got a visit from Agnes.
September 13: A double bill in San Jose with "A Phoenix Too Frequent."
September 13: Another San Jose show featuring "A Phoenix Too Frequent."
September 20: Agnes took the stage at the San Jose Civic Playhouse.
September 21: Orange Coast College got a visit.
September 22: Two shows in the Bay Area, one at the Masonic Auditorium and the other at the Montgomery Theatre.
September 29: An article mentioned that since 1954, Agnes had performed "That Fabulous Redhead" in 149 cities! She'd even taken it to Beirut, Cairo, and Damascus the year before. Talk about a world traveler!
September 30: "That Fabulous Redhead" at the Masonic Auditorium again, with "A Phoenix Too Frequent."
October 2: Agnes did her one-woman show at Occidental College.
October 3: Modesto Junior College was on the list.
October 4: Before her performance, she held a Q&A session about acting and theatre
October 5: Back to Orange Coast College.
October 6: Another San Jose show at the Civic Auditorium, double bill style!
October 10: Agnes had some sound system complaints at the Masonic Auditorium.
October 12: "The Magnificent Redhead" at the Alhambra Theatre.
October 13: Long Beach City College gave a performance.
October 14: Agnes performed in Phoenix, Arizona.
October 18: The Junior League of Grand Rapids hosted Agnes at the Fountain Street Church.
October 19: Lansing, Michigan, at The Lansing Town Hall.
October 20: Ripon, Wisconsin.
October 28 & 29: Indianapolis, Indiana.
October 23: Dayton, Ohio, at the Annual Town Hall Lecture Series.
November 9: Chicago!
November 17: Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
November 18: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.
November 19: Santa Fe, New Mexico.
November 20: Dallas, Texas.
November 21: A critic felt her show lacked warmth at OU Holmberg Hall.
Agnes really got around that year!
All The Pretty Things
One thing you could never accuse Agnes of doing was sitting still. In 1961, she attended performances, specifically Marcel Marceaux in January. Aggie also became involved in politics when she headed a committee of Hollywood’s finest petitioning President Kennedy to name a “Secretary of the Arts.” She was slated to record Abraham Lincoln, a compilation of readings by Carl Sandberg, Orson, and Walter Huston.
Agnes was called upon to perfect her voice when she was asked to work with Jeffrey Hunter to develop a strong voice for his portrayal of Jesus in “King of Kings.” It seems Jeffrey lacked resonance, which isn’t surprising since he was not a stage actor or at least not trained as one. Aggie had a diaphragm like a rock and could project to another state if she wanted to, and Jeff needed help. She did not take any credit for doing it, and I do not know if or how she was paid. They could not have brought in a better instructor than a preacher’s daughter. She knew from listening to John what a godly man should sound like. Agnes was teaching when she was home. The earliest reference is her instruction of Max Baer in April, and then she is absent, on tour, until she comes home in September. Returning to Los Angeles, she reopened her school at “The New England Village” on Santa Monica Blvd. in West Hollywood.
It makes me wonder exactly where she lived—at the beach or in a hotel—because in July, Agnes rented 1023 Roxbury to Joni James and Tony Aquaviva for an entire year. This girl is making money any way she can!
1961 also saw the repair of Molly and Agnes’ damaged relationship. See Robert Gist for questions. Agnes traveled to her mother’s place in February and December. I believe that Molly may have inspired Agnes’ legendary Christmas soirees because, by 1961, Molly was throwing her own annual Christmas party. I don’t see it as epic as her daughters', but I do see it as inviting, warm, and Christmasy!
Oh, Aggie still had some newspaper clout. She was identified as one of the patrons of designer Janor. I honestly can’t say that I remember Janor at all. But it made the papers. Agnes was also still peddling her beauty routine. Seriously, this woman had exfoliation down to an art! She did almond meal and almond oil scrubs! Estee Lauder meant nothing to Aggi, so she made her concoctions! She oiled her hair, too, but what a conditioning routine. I often think that if Aggie had stayed out of the sun, she would have had pristine skin. Sadly, she was a sun worshipper, and it took a ton of makeup to hide it.
Agnes did not have a raging fondness for her freckles either, but as I said long ago, that is genetic. My great-grandmother, who resembled Agnes, my grandmother, my mother, and I all blossomed into a mass of freckles the minute we hit the sunshine! So, it does run in the family.
The end of 1961 delivered the annual performance of “The Littlest Angel” for the Opera Guild. Agnes adored the story for many reasons, most of which involved her sister. After she was past that, Agnes hit the Christmas party circuit, spending December 28 at the home of Don Loper, designer, for his annual holiday party. Don loved La Moorehead’s outfit of beige satin and fur. Of course, it is one hundred percent possible that Don had designed said outfit, so naturally, he loved it. The year ended quietly in her beach home with very little fanfare. Agnes was one full year closer to the role that would make her a household name beloved by thousands, and I mean thousands.
This Name 1962
“I’ve worked hard to make this name stand for something. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
Agnes Moorehead
June 3, 1962
Back On The Stage
A former student of Agnes at Soldiers Grove said after seeing RX:Murder: “She was popular and went to all their parties dressed like a million dollars.” “She always loved to act.” “She played the violin and sang at his sister's eighth-grade graduation.” RX: Murder was the first vehicle to drive Agnes back to the stage.
RX: Murder
This is one of the most curious productions that Agnes has ever been involved with. Starring Joseph Cotten and his wife Patricia Medina, Agnes spent two weeks with a show at the Curran Theater in San Francisco. The show opened on January 15th, and the review on January 18th shows that everybody is terrible, but Agnes and the show should have been a television script. Ouch. That is a startling review for a show with only two original Mercury Theater stars. Suddenly, on February 1st, an article started making the rounds, saying that Agnes had thrown in the towel and gone home. She probably did just that. Then, Paul Gregory had to go to her and beg her to do the tour. Agnes was not up for a weak vehicle. The Presto chango on February 7 and RX: Murder opens for one night in Kansas City, Missouri, with Agnes Moorehead.
Agnes and Paul went head to head more than any other people around her, save her “foster son” and her mother. Paul was not afraid of Agnes nor her temper, and he was one of the few people on this planet who, according to other authors, told her she could get over herself. Curious that they remained close for so long, I expect she may have appreciated him standing up to her. One of my dearest friends, a former college roommate, happened to be exactly like Paul. She stood up to me, and I thought it was terrific. So, while it is true that some of us never find a person to stand up to us, some of us do, and that person will be the most valuable resource in our lives. They will tell you exactly where you stand and what they see as your best move. One of those conversations happened when Agnes bailed on the show, and Paul told her what he saw as her best move.
Out of all the newspaper reviews I have done, I found one small piece of an article about RX: Murder that is incredibly telling:
May 10, 1962
The Montreal Star
Montreal, Canada
“If her life were hers to live over again, would she do it again? “
“I would go into some department of the arts, and if I had a daughter, I would discourage her from entering the profession, yes, or a son. Theatre is a hard life and a sad life.”
Miss Moorehead was reflective, though her tone was plummy and brisk.
Are you kidding me? She did have a son. A son who, in five years, would leave her household and never see nor speak to her again. A son is mentioned after a daughter, and if you're confused, it is no surprise because Agnes had a chance to have “a daughter” and walked away from it, choosing her little brother instead. Understand me; I think the sun rises and sets in Aggie, but I also believe one hundred percent that she had no business attempting to raise a young man who ended up being more set dressing than a son.
Aggie’s tone is reflective, constantly in her sixties and forward. Agnes knew she had come to the end of the road; figuratively speaking, she was in that age bracket where most actors began to cease to exist. She was aware of the fall-off of parts heading her way, which terrified her. As a result, she always looked backward at her life as it was years ago and not at her life as it was then. To a small extent, Agnes lived her life in the past. She hated, hated, hated change of any kind, and the older she got, the worse she hated it.
April 24, 1962
The Miami Herald
Beatrice Washburn
“Tall, slim, Patrician, and with a Master’s Degree from the University of Wisconsin, Agnes Moorehead thinks the public is short-changed.
She mentioned that actors must appear in big, windy auditoriums or structures built without regard for acoustics.
“The sound of the human voice, the loveliest and most significant part of any drama, is being distorted by microphones and loudspeakers,” she said.
“The city fathers in American towns should pay as much attention to the arts as they do to skyscrapers and six-lane highways,” she commented.
Miss Moorehead is not a restful person. Her personality is as fiery as her hair. She seems to catch fire when she talks, and the listener is drawn into the spell.
This may account for her great success in mystery plays–for the power she wields over the audience…”
Tour Schedule RX: Murder
1962 7 February Kansas City, Missouri
1962 8 February Omaha, Nebraska
1962 9 February Des Moines, Iowa
1962 12-17 February Algona, Iowa
1962 21 February Fargo Memorial Auditorium
1962 22 February Eau Claire Wisconsin
1962, 24 February, Orpheum Theatre, Madison, Wisconsin
1962 26 February Locust Theater Philadelphia
1962, 6 March Agnes begins touring with “Rx Murder”
1962 8 March Article talking about “Rx: Murder.” The article includes an interview with a former student at Soldiers Grove who said: “She was popular and went to all their parties dressed like a million dollars.” “She always loved to act.” “She played the violin and sang at his sister's eighth-grade graduation.”
1962 16 March Lynchburg, Virginia
1962 18 March Cleveland, Ohio
1962 19 March to 1 April Detroit Michigan
1962 2-8 April St. Louis, Missouri
1962 9-10 April Atlanta, Georgia
1962 12 April Knoxville, Tennessee
1962 13 April Greensville, South Carolina
1962 16 April Pensacola, Florida
1962 19 April Hershey, Pennsylvania
1962 21 April Orlando, Florida
1962 23 April Miami, Florida
1962 25 April Fort Lauderdale, Florida
1962 28 April Tampa, Florida
1962 30 April Norfolk, Virginia
1962 2 May Washington DC
1962 3 May Williamsport, Pennsylvania
1962 4 May Scranton, Pennsylvania
1962 6 May Hartford, Connecticut
1962 7 May Buffalo, New York
1962 8 May Binghampton, New York
1962 9 May Syracuse, New York
1962 10 May Ottawa, Canada
1962 11 and 12 May Montreal, Canada
1962 14 May Toronto, Canada
1962 21 May Boston, Massachusetts
By the end of May, Prescription: Murder was over. Agnes headed home but would return to the stage in six months with Lord Pengo.
“That Fabulous Redhead” returns
1962, 21 September Agnes opens her one-woman show at SAC
Out and About
February 4: Agnes was in the news! An article mentioned that she has a Ph.D. in speech from Columbia University.
June 17: People could catch Agnes on TV's "Camera 3," where she did readings from Pirandello, Melville, and Aristophanes. Talk about a range!
June 20: Exciting news! An autumn tour was announced, featuring Agnes in "The World of Carl Sandburg." I'd love to have seen that.
June 23: Agnes shared her talents, and an article about her Drama Workshop in Beverly Hills was published.
August 7: Agnes made a fun appearance on TV in a CBS Comedy Spot called "Poor Mr. Campbell."
August 13: Agnes showed off her word skills on the game show "Password."
September 12: Agnes and her one-woman show were guests of the "Federated Women's Club" at the Lutheran Church in Reedsburg.
October 12: You could see Agnes on television in "The Rebel."
December 2: Agnes was listed as one of the guest stars on "Trailmaster."
I hope this makes those entries feel more relatable!
Molly, Grace, Sean, and Agnes
You rarely find anything about Sean Moorehead besides his running away in the newspapers until I discovered that in 1962, Sean and Agnes went to stay with Molly and Grace before heading to New York, where Sean would depart to return to his school in Switzerland.
1962, 30 August Agnes and Sean stay with Molly and Grace before returning to New York. Sean is going to school in Switzerland at the end of the month.
It’s interesting to know that Sean knew Molly because Molly never mentions Sean in any correspondence, from letters to cards, in the volumes of scrapbooks I have seen. Molly didn’t see Sean as her “grandson,” and Agnes did not attempt to force her to act grandmotherly toward Sean. Perhaps the two didn’t like each other, which is entirely possible when Molly is involved, so there simply isn’t correspondence dealing with Molly Moorehead. Truth be told, there’s a bare minimum correspondence from Sean to Agnes, and I mean bare minimum. A valentine card, two or three letters written when he was very young, and a birthday card containing the phrase “I hope you have a happy day.” Sean was already 80 percent out the door when he wrote that. Agnes offered him little outside of possessions. The total lack of connection between them is evidence he was set dressing crossed with a ticking biological clock and the desire to leave a legacy. None of it succeeded, and Molly, as usual, did zero to help.
Agnes Has A Velvet-Covered Brick
When Agnes is the topic of discussion, you must consider how she viewed everybody but her generation. Agnes was a Victorian Flapper. Her mores are Victorian with a splash of flapper in them. Her willingness to criticize modern actors is pure Victorian with a splash of ultra-perfectionism. Agnes doesn’t play favorites with her criticism, either.
Aggie condemns lazy actors and is greatly bothered by how the public accepts this low-value entertainment, but she loves the audiences on the road and is dedicated to them. None of that makes sense. Slamming the people responsible for your fame is like punching the judge in the face before they sentence you. Looking down your nose at the people you are being paid to entertain denotes a serious problem in your thinking pattern. Agnes is beginning to enjoy being critical and enjoys that the people she refers to are less than she is in every way. After a conversation with Boze Hadleigh, I recently said, “Agnes looks at everybody and everything as something she is above.”
That is born from her constant badgering of young actors and her statements since the 1930s that audiences are bothersome, either because of what they choose to watch or hear. The irony of a stage actress disliking the audience is overwhelming. Aggie was a product of a 19th-century upbringing and her mother’s insistence that she was above everything. Agnes was only acting the way she was taught to behave. Furthermore, show me a person criticized and praised for the same behavior, and I’ll show you Aggie’s emotional twin.
A Big Pink Plush Heart
“Charles was a great big grizzly bear, and he vainly tried to hide his big, pink plush heart.” These are the words given to the press when Aggie learned of the death of her good friend Charles Laughton. Agnes thought the world of Charles Laughton was one in which she felt he was on the same pedestal occupied by Orson Welles. In Charles, Aggie found a mentor. He could read Agnes like a book and put it to good use for her benefit.
You can’t discuss Charles Laughton without discussing “Don Juan In Hell.” Charles looked at this interlude, took his love of reading, threw in three other actors, a few notebooks, three stools, and three music stands, and called it a production. Paul Gregory listened to Charles’s explanation and immediately picked up on it. Gregory wanted to produce it. With permission from George Bernard Shaw, Charles Laughton and Paul Gregory cobbled together theatrical history. When he cast the show, Charles knew that whoever he chose to play Dona Anya would have to be able to run the gamut of youth to old age without the benefit of makeup. In the end, there was only one person capable of doing that: Agnes Moorehead.
After the success of “Don Juan,” Laughton urged Agnes to engineer a one-woman show of her own and further offered to direct it for her, a letter he wrote to her when she was opening the show explaining he wouldn’t be there because he was ill was a multi-page missive that had this line at the end of every page. “Keep your chin down!” Look at Agnes in a film or photograph whenever you see her chin. I guarantee you it will be up in the air. It was one of a few failings she had. Ironically, as a young woman, the opposite was true. You couldn’t get her to raise her chin. The difference is confidence. Charles Laughton is responsible for that confidence.
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