Total Pre-Call, Part 3

Filming To the Last Man at Tonto Basin in 1923 are (standing, from left) unknown, James Wong Howe, Richard Dix, Lois Wilson and Victor Fleming.

By November 1922, Zane Grey had reached his boiling point over the movie industry’s “creative accounting” practices (net profit deals in Hollywood are still a sucker’s bet) and filed suit against his partners in Zane Grey Pictures, charging them with fraud and diversion of funds. He alleged that most of the profits from the seven films made by the company had been pocketed by Hampton and Warner and that he had not received the 25 percent share stipulated in his contract.

Declaring Zane Grey Pictures a bust, he sold the bones of the business a month later to Famous Players-Lasky Corporation, the earliest incarnation of Hollywood titan Paramount Pictures. It was a good deal for both sides: Grey would be paid $25,000 upfront for a seven-year option on each title, with a share in the pictures’ profits; in return, the studio could prominently promote Grey’s name on its Westerns, which would help ensure big box-office returns.

Reporting on the Grey/Famous Players–Lasky deal in January 1923, The New York Times correctly noted that Grey would “collaborate actively” on the “picturization” of his stories. Three months later, the Times mistakenly claimed that Grey would direct To the Last Man, the first of his books to be filmed under the arrangement, when in fact, the studio planned to assign the job to contract director Victor Fleming. The idea was to have Fleming shoot Last Man in Tonto Basin, then take the identical cast and crew in quick succession to Oak Creek Canyon to film Grey’s The Call of the Canyon and then to Tuba City for Grey’s The Vanishing American, each location the actual setting of the novel. Fleming was already familiar with the Arizona landscape, having directed parts of The Mollycoddle, a 1920 comedy with Douglas Fairbanks, on the Hopi reservation. As it happened, things didn’t pan out in quite the way the studio had hoped; after two years of production delays, Fleming became involved with other projects and The Vanishing American was directed by serial veteran George B. Seitz. Fleming would later achieve silver screen immortality by directing both The Wizard of Oz and Gone with the Wind in 1939.

Richard Dix and Lois Wilson pose on the Mogollon Rim.

Studio production chief Jesse L. Lasky himself made the announcement that Lois Wilson and Richard Dix, two of his company’s hottest up-and-coming young stars, would be teamed for the first Zane Grey pictures. At the same time, he loudly tooted his horn about how Last Man would be photographed at the book’s backdrop of Tonto Basin, about 90 miles northeast of Phoenix, which he dramatically described as “one of the most difficult spots of access in the entire United States.” Lasky wasn’t just whistling Dixie about the tough commute facing his film crew; as late as the early 1950s, it was still a 10-hour car trek on mostly unpaved roads from Phoenix to Tonto Basin.–––Joe McNeill © 2011 Bar 225 Media Ltd.

Redhead Alert, Part 1

1950s movie queen Rhonda Fleming made her mark in Hollywood quickly, turning heads with her first high-profile role in Alfred Hitchcock’s Spell­bound in 1945, followed by striking character roles in enduring thrillers The Spiral Staircase in 1946, and Out of the Past in 1947. Lead roles in films with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope followed, and she’s been Hollywood royalty ever since. She starred in two westerns in Sedona – The Eagle and the Hawk (1950) and The Redhead and the Cowboy (1951). I chatted with her in 2007 about how she went from jittery teen running late for school to a featured role in a Hitchcock classic. For more on her life and ongoing charitable works, visit her Website at www.rhondafleming.com.––Joe McNeill

JM: Your “discovery” is the stuff of Hollywood legend; is the story true?

RHONDA FLEMING: It’s a Cinderella story. I was about 15, 16 years old. It was early in the morning, there wasn’t anybody around. I was running because I was late for school in Beverly Hills. I noticed a big black car with a man inside who kept looking at me. It scared the heck out of me, and I ran faster. By the third block he got out and I froze. He came up to me and said, “Young lady” – and this sounds so silly now, but it’s exactly what he said – “have you ever thought of being in motion pictures?” I said, “No sir, I haven’t and I’m late for school.” Mother warned me about men like that! [Laughing] So I said, “I have to go.” He asked “Where do you live?” I said, “I live with my mother.” I told him the address, and I ran. By the time I got home he’d already been to see my mother. The man was Henry Willson, a very famous agent. In those days an agent would find a “would-be/could-be” actress or actor, get them under contract, and get their ten percent. Later, Henry became David O. Selznick’s right arm. He called me and said, “I want you to meet Mr. Selznick.” I didn't know who Mr. Selznick was. Of course, I was to learn he made some of the biggest pictures ever.

Like Gone With the Wind...

I have to give Henry all the credit, because he saw something in me I didn’t even know I had. I went to meet Mr. Selznick, he asked me a few questions, and I left. About a week later, Henry called and said they wanted me to do a cold reading. They handed me a paper and I read the lines. Then he said they’d probably want to give me a screen test.

This is so funny. We went down to the commissary for lunch; I was wearing a cute little skirt with a little off-the-shoulder blouse. Pretty soon a group of men came in and sat at a table. I was trying to eat, but they all kept looking at me. I said to Henry, “I can’t eat [with them staring].”

He said, “Just keep eating…keep eating.”

“Well, what are they looking at?”

“Just keep eating…”

Pretty soon, they got up, came over to us and one man leaned down and whispered into Henry’s ear. Afterward, I asked Henry what the man said. He told Henry, “Never mind the screen test, we’ll just sign her.”

Later, Henry called me and said, “Well, you've got your first part.”

I said, “I did? Well, what is it?”

“It's a film called Spellbound and you are going to have a top featured role with Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck. You’re going to play a nymphomaniac." What on earth did they see in me?

I didn't even know what a nymphomaniac was. My mother had to look it up in the dictionary! From a cute, youthful summer outfit, they saw a nympho­maniac? Maybe it was the way I read the lines. I don’t know. But Spellbound was incredible. The part was strong and ahead of its time. It was a great start for my career and I went on to make over 40 films.