Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Temporary Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 21, 1937 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 24, 1938]. Screenplay written by Kathryn Scola and Lamar Trotti (with an uncredited Sheridan Gibney and Darryl F. Zanuck), adapted by Richard Sherman from a story by Irving Berlin. Songs in the production include: "Alexander’s Ragtime Band"; "Ragtime Violin"; "That International Rag"; "Everybody’s Doin’ It Now"; "Now It Can Be Told"; "This Is The Life"; "When The Midnight Choo-Choo Leaves For Alabam"; "For Your Country And My Country"; "I Can Always Find A Little Sunshine In The Y.M.C.A."; "Oh! How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning"; "We’re On Our Way To France"; "Say It With Music"; "A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody"; "Blue Skies"; “Pack Up Your Sins And Go To The Devil”; “What’ll I Do”; “My walking Stick”; “Remember”; “Everybody Step”; “All Alone”; “Marie”; “Cheek To Cheek”; “Easter Parade”; “Heat Wave”; “Marching Along With Time”; “Some Sunny Day”; and “In My Harem” (all with music and lyrics by Irving Berlin); and “Gypsy In Me” (with music and lyrics by Cole Porter). Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Henry King, the movie stars Tyrone Power, Alice Faye, Don Ameche, Ethel Merman, Jack Haley and Jean Hersholt. “Two years in the making, with a budget of over two million dollars, Alexander’s Ragtime Band was an unqualified smash upon its release in 1938 and survives into the following century as a whirlwind anthology of songwriter Irving Berlin’s vast output. Starring Fox Studio’s reigning queen Alice Faye and their number one male draw Tyrone Power, the movie ostensibly dramatizes Berlin’s own career trajectory but takes innumerable narrative liberties that render its subjects resolutely fictional. Producer Darryl F. Zanuck kept his hand in all aspects of the production in the hopes of creating a “story illustrated with music,” but the result is exactly the reverse, with an endless stream from the Berlin song catalogue thinly threaded together by standard and accelerated plot developments. The title song was Berlin’s first popular success on the hit parade, and Power’s Roger Grant adopts the song’s personae for his own group (clearly oblivious of copyright laws). Circumstances add to their bunch the rough-edged singer Stella Kirby (Faye), and as the ensemble’s fortunes improve, their personal dramas threaten to split them apart. There isn’t a line of dialogue or plot element here you haven’t seen in a hundred other movies, and it’s all merely a pretext to stage one musical number after another, with the songs as truncated as the short-lived romance between Faye and Powers’ characters. There’s easily a tune every few minutes, all of them reliably executed, but the film’s insistence on musical comprehensiveness leaves room only for the barest of character development, broadly sketched emotional dynamics, and a largely monotone narrative arc. Zanuck insisted on excising all subplots from the film’s ultra-efficient greatest-hits structure, leaving supporting players Jack Haley, Jean Hersholt, and John Carradine with the slightest of showcases. Don Ameche (serving to complete the requisite love triangle within the band) proves surprisingly dashing in his youth, and the radiant Ethel Merman is a welcome addition in the film’s later reels as Faye’s replacement, her “pipes” given innumerable opportunities to support their legend. Power is as photogenic as ever, and the evolution of Faye’s Kirby from flooze to elegance mirrors that of the actress’ own Hollywood career, her expressive mouth and unmodified nose providing plenty of visual delights. But they’re all no more than foils for three decades of swing music, even though the film not once paints Power (alternately called Roger, Alex, or Alec) as a songwriter, instead giving him a sizable baton to swing around and a chip to shoulder when Kirby leaves the band for a solo Broadway career. Any claims to biographical fidelity are easily dismissed under the onslaught of melodic snippets, and their brevity hardly allows us the opportunity to appreciate all the elaborate sets, costumes, and dancers that inevitably constituted most of the film’s sizeable budget. Halfway through Alexander’s Ragtime Band one realizes there’s no one you’ve come to care for, and by the end, the film’s ultimate ephemerality proves disappointing. This isn’t a movie proper, but a survey of swing for the attention-deficient, and while its Oscar for Best Musical Score is well-deserved, and its early critical reception was beyond enthusiastic, the passage of time renders clear the servitude of the film’s images to their audio component.” (J. Alan Speer). The movie won an Academy Award in the Best Music, Scoring (Alfred Newman) category, and was nominated in the following categories: Best Art Direction (Bernard Herzburn and Boris Leven); Best Film Editing (Barbara McLean); Best Music, Original Song (Irving Berlin for “Now It Can Be Told”); Best Picture; and Best Writing, Original Story (Irving Berlin).

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Revised Temporary Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated August 11, 1937. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 18, 1937. A very good copy with a few closed tears to the spine.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1938. Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated June 29, 1938. A very good copy with a few closed tears to the spine.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1953. Dialogue Cutting Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated June 25, 1953 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 7, 1953]. This script is inscribed by director Vincente Minnelli on the front cover: “For Fred, Vincente Minnelli.” Screenplay by Betty Comden, Adolph Green and an uncredited Alan Jay Lerner. Produced by Arthur Freed and directed by Vincente Minnelli, the movie stars Fred Astaire, Cyd Charisse, Oscar Levant, Nanette Fabray, Jack Buchanan, James Mitchell and Robert Gist. Songs in the production include: “Be Myself”; “A Shine On Your Shoes”; “That’s Entertainment”; “The Beggars Waltz”; “Dancing In The Dark”; “You And The Night And The Music”; “Something To Remember You By”; “High And Low”; “I Love Luisa”; “New Sun In The Sky”; “I Guess I’ll Have To Change My Plan”; “Louisiana Hayride”; “Triplets”; and “The Girl Hunt” (all with music and lyrics by Adolph Deutsch, Howard Dietz and Arthur Schwartz). “After the success of musicals built around the songs of George and Ira Gershwin (An American in Paris) and his own songs written with Nacio Herb Brown (Singin’ in the Rain), producer Arthur Freed next turned to the songs of Howard Dietz and Arthur Schwartz as the basis for a new musical. The pair were famous for writing some of Broadway’s greatest revues of the early 1930’s, including 1931’s The Band Wagon that would lend its title and many of its songs to Freed’s new concoction. Both the theater and film versions of The Band Wagon would share the same star, Fred Astaire, but in much different roles. For the movie, Betty Comden and Adolph Green created a character not far removed from the real Fred Astaire in Tony Hunter, a former Broadway hoofer who has found his fame declining after years in Hollywood. “We were very nervous in the beginning about Fred’s character,” said Comden, “because it was based in so many ways on his actual position in life.” Astaire, however, found the part delightfully written and agreed to lampoon his own image. Reality provided the inspiration for other roles. Comden and Green inserted caricatures of themselves into the story as the bickering playwrights portrayed by Oscar Levant and Nanette Fabray. Jose Ferrer, who had recently staged several Broadway shows simultaneously, was the basis for pretentious director Jeffrey Cordova. Freed’s first choice to play Cordova was Clifton Webb who turned down the role as too minor but suggested instead Jack Buchanan, considered Britain’s answer to Fred Astaire. Cyd Charisse, a sensation in the “Broadway Melody” number in Singin’ In The Rain, graduated here to leading actress to complete the cast. Eighteen Dietz-Schwartz tunes from their past productions were chosen for The Band Wagon but Freed felt something was missing and went to the songwriters for a new addition. “In the script this director, Buchanan, is saying that practically anything you can do will work if it’s entertaining. I want a “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” ” Freed told the pair. Forty-five minutes later they returned with The Band Wagon’s most famous number, “That’s Entertainment.” “The show must go on” would have been a more appropriate motto for the shoot. Astaire’s wife was seriously ill during the film’s production, Jack Buchanan had to work his scenes around painful dental operations and Oscar Levant had his usual hypochondria increased by having an actual heart attack shortly before filming. One particularly difficult number was “Triplets.” It required Astaire, Fabray and Buchanan to dance on their knees. Fabray later said, “it was just a long day of pain, terror and anxiety.” The musical’s biggest number was, thankfully, much easier on the dancers. Associate producer Roger Edens saw a Life magazine article on hard-boiled detective writer Mickey Spillane and decided to spoof it with “The Girl Hunt” ballet. Michael Kidd, star choreographer of Broadway’s Guys and Dolls, was brought in to bring some of that show’s lowlife flair to the piece. Kidd was scared to show Astaire the muscular moves he had planned for the ballet, knowing it was so alien to the elegant Astaire style. To his surprise, Astaire loved it and later called it one of his favorite film dances. The Band Wagon is the most frequent rival of Singin’ in the Rain for honors as producer Arthur Freed’s best musical. In some ways, the pictures are mirror images of each other. Both are about song-and-dance men whose careers are jeopardized. Both feature a production that starts out as a disaster and becomes a hit. And in both films, saving the production and the leading character’s career parallels the personal salvation he finds through love. The Band Wagon, however, is the darker of the two films, set on a fading Broadway with a focus on old age and retirement to add to the leading character’s professional and personal problems. The Band Wagon was the last musical from both producer Arthur Freed and director Vincente Minnelli to be shot and released in the conventional screen ratio of 1:33:1. All of their later musicals would be shot in wide-screen process. The Band Wagon also provides musical theatre buffs with their only opportunity to see Nanette Fabray in a musical, the genre that made her a star on Broadway in such ‘40s and ‘50s shows as High Button Shoes and Love Life. The putting-on-a-show musical was a Hollywood staple, dating back to the first musical to win a Best Picture Oscar, MGM’s The Broadway Melody (1929). Other outstanding examples include 42nd Street (1933) and Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933). Broadway variations include Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Me and Juliet and Cole Porter’s Kiss Me, Kate, the latter filmed in 1953. Fred Astaire’s first film, Dancing Lady (1933), is another example, though he wouldn’t make a similar themed musical until The Band Wagon in 1953. Like The Band Wagon, the previous film adapted from the Howard Dietz-Arthur Schwartz revue, Dancing in the Dark (1949), added a plot about a Hollywood actor whose career had declined. In the earlier film the role was played by a non-singing, non-dancing William Powell. The film featured four numbers from the original, all of which would turn up in The Band Wagon: “Dancing in the Dark,” “Something to Remember You By,” “New Sun in the Sky” and “I Love Louisa.” The film’s one original song, “That’s Entertainment,” provided the title for a trio of compilation films that revived interest in the MGM musical in 1974, 1976 and 1994. Numbers from The Band Wagon were featured in all three films. Fred Astaire’s appearance as one of the narrators of That’s Entertainment! (1974) was filmed on the train station set used for his opening number in The Band Wagon. His appearance was introduced with a brief clip of his singing “By Myself” there. By that time, of course, the set had fallen into disrepair, a sad reflection of MGM’s declining stature within the industry. He would write in his autobiography “the set was a mess. All the windows on the train were broken. Nobody had tried to sweep or clean up. It was just a wreck. The Twentieth Century Limited looked so black and dreary. As I walked along, I noticed that the carpeting was torn, and the seats of the train were missing. But I suppose nothing should last forever.” In a curious parallel of the film’s plot, later in their careers Comden and Green tackled a project of “meaning and stature” similar to what Jeffrey Cordova made of the on-screen musical in The Band Wagon. The result was A Doll’s Life, a musical sequel to Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. It was one of the biggest disasters in Broadway history. By contrast, upon release, The Band Wagon became both a critical and commercial hit. Bosley Crowther in The New York Times called it “one of the best musicals ever made.” Like another of Fred Astaire’s biggest hits, Top Hat (1935), The Band Wagon opens with the titles shown over his trademark top hat and walking stick. Although far from the long-past-his-prime entertainer he portrayed in the film, Fred Astaire was coming off a box-office flop, The Belle of New York (1952), when he started work on The Band Wagon. One parallel to Astaire’s career that did not remain in the script was a movie exhibitor’s reference to Tony Hunter as “box-office poison.” Astaire had been among several stars – including Katharine Hepburn, Greta Garbo and Joan Crawford – stuck with that label in the late ‘30s and was quite sensitive about it. Freed had always planned to use Ava Gardner in a cameo as the glamorous film star whose arrival at Grand Central Station upstages Astaire’s. Studio head Dore Schary was never a Gardner fan and instructed the studio’s publicists to announce that swimming star Esther Williams would play the role. Freed insisted on Gardner, however, and she ended up doing the scene. The scene in which Lester and Lily Marton (Oscar Levant and Nanette Fabray) greet Astaire at the train station as the Tony Hunter Fan Club was based on a real event in writer Adolph Green’s life. He was returning to New York after an out-of-town failure when his writing partner, Betty Comden, greeted him with a sign reading “Adolph Green Fan Club.” Early in the film, Astaire leaves his friends to go find the New Amsterdam Theatre. That was the theatre at which he had performed in the original The Band Wagon in 1931. In fact, Green first saw him perform in that show. For the “Shine On My Shoes” number, Fred Astaire wanted to dance with the bootblack. They found the real thing in Leroy Daniels, a dancing shoeshine man working in downtown Los Angeles. He also inspired the 1950 hit “Chattanooga Shoe Shine Boy,” recorded by Bing Crosby and country-western star Red Foley. Daniels would make only a handful of films, ending his career as a bootblack in 1985’s Avenging Angel. He also had a recurring role on the hit sitcom Sanford and Son. Director Vincente Minnelli wanted to button the end of “Shine On My Shoes” by having an arcade machine erupt with noise and color. Oliver Smith designed a combination calliope and rocket launcher for a cost of $8,800. Jack Buchanan had introduced Astaire’s first song in the film, “By Myself,” in the stage show Between the Devil. In England, where he was a star, Buchanan received co-star billing alongside Astaire. In other areas, he was billed as a featured player. During previews, the mostly young audience gave Buchanan, whom most had never heard of, their highest approval rating, 78 percent. Astaire came in at 66 percent, lower than Cyd Charisse (71 percent) and Nanette Fabray (71 percent). The only principal player given a lower rating was Oscar Levant (46 percent). Astaire and Charisse had not worked together since Ziegfeld Follies (1946), in which she had danced around him – but not with him. The simple dress Charisse wore for “Dancing In The Dark” was a copy of a dress costume designer Mary Ann Nyberg had bought in Arizona for $25. Since the dress was no longer being made, it had to be copied in the studio costume department, where it took $1,000 to get it right. After his fight with Fabray, Levant goes to a bar across the street from the theatre. In the background is a poster for Every Night at Seven, the musical the brother-and-sister act played by Astaire and Jane Powell take to London in Royal Wedding (1951). In the original script, Astaire’s temper tantrum was written, “I am not Nijinsky. I am not Marlon Brando – I’m just Mrs. Hunter’s little boy, Tony – an entertainer.” When the legal department asked Brando for permission to use his name he refused, taking offense at the suggestion that he wasn’t an entertainer. They changed it to “song-and-dance man.” As one of the visuals representing the show’s disastrous opening in New Haven, Minnelli used a favorite painting of his, Arnold Boecklin’s “The Isle of the Dead.” It had also inspired a 1945 horror film from producer Val Lewton. The song “I Guess I’ll Have To Change My Plan” was originally about a man contemplating a love affair and included the line, “Why did I buy those blue pajamas, Before the big affair began.” It was even nicknamed “The Blue Pajama Song” when Clifton Webb performed it in The Little Show in 1929. In 1953, however, the Production Code wouldn’t allow any celebration of an illicit affair, so the lyrics were made more innocuous. Although Michael Kidd was the film’s choreographer, Astaire staged his own duet with Jack Buchanan to “I Guess I’ll Have To Change My Plan.” Oliver Smith modeled his design for “I Guess I’ll Have To Change My Plan” on the work of modern painter Paul Klee. This triggered another battle with the MGM art department. The three clues Astaire investigates in the “Girl Hunt Ballet” were inspired by Rudyard Kipling’s 1897 poem “The Vampire”: “A fool there was, and he gave his share, For a rag, a bone and a hank of hair.” The sets for the “Girl Hunt Ballet” include posters for the movie The Proud Land. That was the name of the big-budget film that destroyed the leading character’s career as a producer in The Bad And The Beautiful (1952), Minnelli’s previous film. As part of the ceremonies when Astaire received the American Film Institute’s Lifetime Achievement Award in 1981, Charisse repeated her closing speech from the film, a tribute to Tony Hunter as a showman and the man her character loves. James Mitchell, who plays Charisse’s boyfriend and the show-within-a-show’s original choreographer, was himself a dancer, most notably as the dancing Curly in Oklahoma. Two decades later, he would debut as corrupt tycoon Palmer Cortlandt on the daytime drama All My Children. The Band Wagon contains a number of famous quotes, among them: “I can stand anything but pain.” (Levant as Lester Marton, in a reflection of the actor’s own hypochondria.); “Kids, you’re geniuses! It’s brilliant, contemporary, perceptive – this show is a modern version of Faust!” (Jack Buchanan as Jeffrey Cordova, taking over the show.); “Just like Faust, this man is tempted by the devil. And his compromise, his sellout, must end in eternal damnation.” “That’ll leave them laughing.” (Buchanan and Levant.); “There is no difference between the magic rhythms of Bill Shakespeare’s immortal verse, and the magic rhythms of Bill Robinson’s immortal feet.” (Buchanan leading into “That’s Entertainment.”); “We’re not fighting! We’re in complete agreement! We hate each other!” (Nanette Fabray at Lily Marton settling an argument with Levant.); “Tony, you’re showing me one-eighth of the iceberg, and I want to see eight-eighths. Now, go out there and give it to me.” (Buchanan directing Fred Astaire as Tony Hunter.); “Did you ever try spreading ideals on a cracker?” (Astaire (and others), delivering one of the show-within-the-show’s worst lines.); “I’ve learned one thing in the theater and it’s this – one man has to be at the helm and the rest take orders.” (Astaire taking over the show-within-the-show.); “She came at me in sections. More curves than a scenic highway. She was bad, she was dangerous. I wouldn’t trust her any farther than I could throw her. She was selling hard, but I wasn’t buying.” (Astaire’s narration of “The Girl Hunt Ballet.”); and “The show’s going to run a long time. As far as I’m concerned, it’s going to run forever.” (Cyd Charisse as Gaby Gerard, pledging her devotion to Astaire at the film’s end.).” (Brian Cady & Frank Miller). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the following categories: Best Costume Design, Color (Mary Ann Nyberg); Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Adolph Deutsch); and Best Writing, Story and Screenplay (Betty Comden and Adolph Green). ‘DUBLIN’ has been written in holograph green pencil on the upper front cover in an unknown hand, else a near fine copy.

Original title: The Big Cast. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1951. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY INCOMPLETE,’ ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT’ and ‘VAULT COPY’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated June 1, 1951 with inserted page revisions dated as late as July 21, 1951 [the movie’s U.S. release date was September 25, 1952]. Screenplay written by Kurl Tunberg and Leonard Spigelgass, based on a short story by Ruth Brooks Flippen and Sy Gomberg. Songs in the production include: “Because You’re Mine” (with music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Sammy Cahn); “Angels Song” (with music by Johannes Brahms and Irving Aaronson and lyrics by Paul Francis Webster); “Lee-Ah-Loo” (with music by Johnny Lehmann and lyrics by Raymond Sinatra); and “Questa o quella” and “Per me, ora fatale” (both with music and lyrics by Giuseppe Verdi). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Alexander Hall, the movie stars Mario Lanza, Doretta Morrow, James Whitmore, Dean Miller, Rita Corday, Jeff Donnell, Spring Byington, Curtis Cooksey, Don Porter, Eduard Franz, Bobby Van, Ralph Reed, Celia Lovsky and Alexander Steinert. “In what would ultimately be released with the title of Because You’re Mine, Mario Lanza was to play a famous opera star who is drafted into the Army and falls in love with his sergeant’s sister. Lanza considered the story weak and lacking in artistic quality and wasted no time in telling both [Joe] Pasternak and Dore Schary that he thought the script was “junk.” The studio responded by claiming that success had gone to Lanza’s head, and that his behavior would not be tolerated. Schary, who was now in charge of MGM after Louis B. Mayer’s forced resignation two months earlier, was not remotely interested in what Pasternak produced as long as it made a profit for the shareholders. Schary’s principle aim was to produce low budget so-called “message” films such as The Next Voice You Hear. The disagreements over Because You’re Mine were the beginning of a series of battles between Lanza and the studio that a year later would culminate with his much-publicized walk-out on The Student Prince. In the meantime – still hoping that MGM would change its mind – Lanza delayed the start of filming on Because You’re Mine for as long as he could. As he was prone to do in times of difficulty and stress, Lanza began to eat and drink without restraint in order to compensate for his emotional turmoil. The result was that his weight increased daily at an alarming rate. However, the tenor’s ploy of gaining weight in the hope that the film would be cancelled failed. Instead the studio issued an ultimatum: lose weight or else. MGM did however make one concession. They promised that if he got back into shape the script would be rewritten by scenarists Karl Tunberg and Leonard Spigelgass. The pair had initially based it on a story by Ruth Brooks Flippen and Sy Gomberg. Spigelgass, who was not keen on rewriting the script, took his frustration out on Lanza by stating publicly that “His [Lanza’s] ability as an actor is less than zero.” Not to be outdone, Lanza responded by saying: “Perhaps with a better script my acting might improve!” By the end of September Lanza was back in Hollywood ready to resume work on Because You’re Mine. He had managed to shed about 30 pounds (13.6 kg), but he still weighed 204 pounds (92 kg), much to the displeasure of Pasternak, who wanted him to lose still more weight. Unfairly Lanza took his misery out on co-star Doretta Morrow, who was making her first film and, as a novice in the film business, needed all the support she could get. Pasternak had first spotted Morrow, who at the time was rumored to be Richard Rodgers’ mistress, while she was playing Tuptin in The King and I with Yul Brynner and Gertrude Lawrence on Broadway. Lanza tried a number of ploys to avoid making Because You’re Mine. He told the studio he was opposed to having Morrow as co-star. It was nothing personal. It was just that he wanted to sing with an operatic soprano as opposed to one from musical comedy. He also told Pasternak that he would like to work with Lana Turner, reasoning that she could be dubbed by a soprano in the musical numbers. Pasternak ruled this out as Turner was already committed to The Merry Widow, which he was producing simultaneously with Because You’re Mine. Doretta Morrow had been signed for the film, and his decision was final. Also in the film was character actor James Whitmore, who did a fine job in a semi-comical part as Lanza’s sergeant and Morrow’s sister. Despite the battle raging between Lanza and MGM, Whitmore found Lanza friendly and easy to work with. Although theirs was only a working relationship, and they never became close enough to discuss anything in depth, Whitmore felt that Lanza was not a happy man during the making of Because You’re Mine. The reason for the unhappiness, apart from the film and what he felt was unfair treatment from MGM, may well have been a cover story in Time magazine that appeared in the August 6, 1951 issue under the heading “Million Dollar Voice.” The story, a malicious piece of journalism that ridiculed the tenor’s eating habits, intellect, singing and – for that matter – his entire personal and public life both past and present, deeply hurt Lanza. The Time story became the basis for many future unfounded articles and reports about the tenor that would appear regularly in magazines and newspapers all over the world. Rightly or wrongly, Lanza was convinced that MGM was behind the spiteful article and this certainly did not help to improve his frame of mind or, for that matter, his relationship with the big brass at the studio. Regardless of his continued weight fluctuation during the filming and the fact that Because You’re Mine was a mediocre effort after The Great Caruso, on the strength of Lanza’s popularity the film was successful, just as MGM had predicted. Although it did not achieve the box office take of The Great Caruso, the title song went on to become Lanza’s third million-seller. Newsweek described the script as “cute and commercially secure,” Variety commented on the slender plot, but added: “Terrific Lanza singing… Lanza plays well the part of a high-priced star willing to accept the fate that makes him a GI.” Bosley Crowther in The New York Times, while pointing out the banality of the story, went on to say: “But it’s really Mr. Lanza’s singing that should and will attract attention to this technicolored film.” Unsurprisingly, Time magazine called it “an undernourished musical.” In reality the film, directed by the veteran Alexander Hall was no better and no worse than Lanza’s first two films. It was a disappointment simply because it happened to follow the more substantial The Great Caruso.” (Armando Cesari). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (Nicholas Brodszky and Sammy Cahn for “Because You’re Mine”). A near fine copy.

Original title: The Big Cast. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1951. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘COMPLETE,’ ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT’ and ‘VAULT COPY’ on the front wrapper, with provisional title “The Big Cast” in manual type and the final title “Because You’re Mine” written in holograph ink in an unknown hand just above it, also on the front wrapper. This script is dated July 16, 1951 with inserted page revisions dated as late as July 19, 1951. A near fine copy.

Original title: Great Guns! Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1936. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. ‘TEMPORARY, COMPLETE’ has been stamped on the front wrapper, with the movie’s release title of ‘Born To Dance’ added in holograph blue ink by an unknown hand. This script is dated May 4, 1936 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 27, 1936]. Screenplay written by Jack McGowan and Sid Silvers, based on their story written with Buddy G. DeSylva. Songs in the production include: “Rolling Home”; “Rap, Tap on Wood”; “Hey, Babe, Hey”; “Entrance of Lucy James”; “Love Me, Love My Pekinese”; “Easy To Love”; “Swingin’ the Jinx Away”; and “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” (all with music and lyrics by Cole Porter). Produced by Jack Cummings and directed by Roy Del Ruth, the movie stars Eleanor Powell, James Stewart, Virginia Bruce, Una Merkel, Sid Silvers, Buddy Ebsen, Alan Dinehart and Frances Langford. “Born to Dance went through many changes before the film finally made it to the screen. Cole Porter had been signed to write the score even before the script was written. The film had originally been planned for British dancer Jessie Matthews, who was to co-star with Robert Montgomery. However, the British studio which had Matthews under contract refused to loan her for the film. Once Eleanor Powell was cast, and the comic supporting characters were written in, Montgomery realized the leading man didn’t have much to do and backed out. Allan Jones was then chosen to play Powell’s love interest, before being replaced by James Stewart. A very young Judy Garland was at one time considered to play one of Powell’s pals at the club, but the role went to Frances Langford, who had originally been set for the part of the musical star (a part eventually played by Virginia Bruce). In a typical screen role Powell plays an aspiring dancer, this time working in a lonely hearts club. Her first number in the film establishes her as a talented hoofer waiting to be discovered. Romance comes into her life in the form of James Stewart, playing a sailor on shore leave. There’s the falling-in-love number, set in a park, with Stewart (improbably) crooning “Easy to Love,” and Powell dancing. And there’s the huge, elaborate finale, which takes place aboard a battleship, in which Powell’s character dances her way to stardom. Cole Porter himself was responsible for the casting of Stewart. The gangly young actor was still in his apprenticeship period, having been signed to an MGM contract the previous year. Born to Dance was his sixth film, and his first as an MGM leading man (he’d been loaned out to Universal for 1936’s Next Time We Love, opposite Margaret Sullavan). In a diary entry, Porter noted that he’d suggested Stewart for Born to Dance, and MGM had agreed, as long as Stewart could prove he could sing. “He sings far from well, although he has some nice notes in his voice, but he could play the part perfectly,” Porter wrote. Stewart’s singing was underwhelming, yet oddly charming. One critic wrote that it reminded him of “the hired man calling in the cows for supper. They come in with a smile, but they look rather surprised....Stewart is very much like the rest of us average guys. Only, our singing, like his, should be reserved for the shower.” The reviews were more enthusiastic about Porter’s score, which included another song which would become a standard, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” The song was nominated for an Oscar, but lost to “The Way You Look Tonight,” from Swing Time.” (Margarita Landazuri). “Cole and [his wife] Linda set out for Hollywood in December 1935. Cole’s contract to turn out the music and lyrics for a motion picture which did not even boast an outline paid him the handsome fee of $75,000 for this, his first original score. It was planned as a romantic comedy for Clark Gable and Jean Harlow but, when it was discovered that neither Gable nor Harlow could sing, in typical ‘30s Hollywood fashion the story was quickly transformed into an ice skating epic starring Eleanor Powell as a lonely-hearts club hostess who meets and instantly falls in love with sailor Jimmy Stewart. The heavy in this concoction is Virginia Bruce who plays a Broadway musical comedy star. Predictably, in the last reel Eleanor wrests Jimmy from the clutches of the actress. Cole kept voluminous notes of his experiences during the five months it took to make the film called Born to Dance, which was released in November 1936. Reading between the lines, one feels that, although Hollywood adored him, he looked down his nose at this group of ex-glove and car salesmen so recently turned impresarios. Although Linda put up with the garrulous social world of Hollywood with difficulty, Cole loved the sun-filled life of a much-sought-after composer. He had rented Richard Bethelmess’s lavish estate, and enjoyed the pool and the telephone by the pool, the tennis courts, the lounging, drinking, tanning, and even the social obligations. He had truly ‘gone Hollywood’, as he told the New York gossip columnist, Dorothy Killgallen. ‘When I first came here they told me, “You’ll be so bored you’ll die. Nobody talks about anything but pictures.” After I was here a week, I discovered I didn’t want to talk about anything else myself.’ Because of plot delays filming Born To Dance took longer than Cole and especially Linda, who was eager to get back to New York, anticipated, but when it was released Cole had at least one more hit to his credit: “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” The unusual title is a direct translation from the opening line of a French song Cole admired, a ballad so identified with Fanny Brice as to become her signature. The song “My Man” (“Mon Homme”) by Maurice Yvain, begins and is, in fact, subtitled “Je l’ai tellement dans le peau”, (I’ve got him so much in my skin). Well sung in the film by the beauteous Virginia Bruce, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” caught on almost immediately. The fifty-six bar song with a repeated 16-bar A section followed by an extended bolero-like bridge and a foreshortened A3 reminded most listeners of the beguine, by now a Cole Porter trademark. Once he had seen the rushes of the film, Louis B. Mayer realized that Cole’s score was the best thing about Born To Dance. MGM’s chief gushed over the songwriter and offered him the enormous sum of $100,000 to return next year and write the score for Rosalie. It was an offer tempting to Cole’s ego. Then Mayer called Cole’s Hollywood agent, Arthur Lyons to work out the details, and before they left California – and over Linda’s strong objection – Cole signed the contract.” (Stephen Citron). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the categories of Best Dance Direction (Dave Gould for “Swingin’ the Jinx”) and Best Music, Original Song (Cole Porter for “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”). Wrappers sunned and stained at the edges, else a very good copy.

Original title: Up and Down Broadway. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1943. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. The film’s original title, “Up and Down Broadway” is in manual type at the center of the front wrapper, with an unknown holograph ink hand-correction of the final title, “Broadway Rhythm” written above it. “Change Room Only” has also been noted in holograph pencil along the top edge of the front wrapper. This script is dated May 5, 1943 with inserted revision pages dated as late as August 23, 1943 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 19, 1944]. Screenplay by Harry Cork and Dorothy Kingsley, based on Oscar Hammerstein II’s play Very Warm For May and a story by Jack McGowan. Songs in the production include: “All The Things You Are” (music by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II); “Somebody Loves Me” (music by George Gershwin with lyrics by Ballad MacDonald and Buddy G. DeSylva); “Milkman, Keep Those Bottles Quiet” (music by Don Raye and lyrics by Gene de Paul); “What Do You Think I Am” and “Brazilian Boogie” (both music by Hugh Martin and lyrics by Ralph Blane); “Solid Potato Salad,” “I Love Corny Music,” “Irresistible You” and “Who’s Who?” (all music by Don Reye with lyrics by Gene de Paul); “Pretty Baby” (music by Egbert Van Alstyne and Tony Jackson); “Amor” (music by Gabriel Ruiz and lyrics by Ricardo López Méndez); and “Ida, Sweet As Apple Cider” (music by Eddie Munson with lyrics by Eddie Leonard). Produced by Jack Cummings and directed by Roy Del Ruth, the movie stars George Murphy, Ginny Simms, Charles Winninger, Gloria DeHaven, Nancy Walker, Ben Blue, Lena Horne, Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, Hazel Scott and Tommy Dorsey. “Tommy Dorsey, “The Sentimental Gentleman of Swing,” appeared in roughly a dozen feature films as himself, usually billed as “Leader of the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra.” Dorsey and his orchestra (along with an uncredited vocalist named Frank Sinatra) made their movie debut in Paramount’s Las Vegas Nights (1941), but spent the remainder of their movie career of the early 1940s in such MGM musicals as Presenting Lily Mars (1943), DuBarry Was a Lady (1943), Girl Crazy (1943) and Broadway Rhythm (1944). The latter movie is a barely recognizable screen treatment of the 1939 Jerome Kern / Oscar Hammerstein II Broadway hit Very Warm For May, in which most of the original numbers except “All the Things You Are” were cut. (Three others are sung in mere fragments by star George Murphy.) The Dorsey numbers are two written by Don Raye and Gene de Paul: “I Love Corny Music,” with vocals by Tommy Dorsey and Charles Winninger; and “Irresistible You,” with vocals by the Tommy Dorsey Quartet. A reviewer for Variety wrote that “Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra provide the musical background... to get picture away to a good start.” As originally conceived, Broadway Rhythm was to have been the fifth entry in MGM’s Broadway Melody series and was to have starred Gene Kelly and Eleanor Powell. All this changed when studio head Louis B. Mayer became interested in promoting the career of Ginny Simms, the young radio vocalist who co-stars opposite Murphy. After his divorce, Mayer frequently served as Simms’ escort; the story goes that, after she turned down a marriage proposal, he lost interest in her film career, which ended in 1951. Broadway Rhythm spins a backstage tale in which Murphy’s character, a Broadway producer, seeks big-name talent for an upcoming show, oblivious to the fact that he is surrounded by family and friends who are more than talented enough to fill the bill. These include his dad (Winninger) and sister (Gloria DeHaven). Even Simms, as the Hollywood star hired to headline Murphy’s musical, tries in vain to open his eyes to the obvious. Meantime, the movie is enlivened by a parade of guest stars including Lena Horne singing “Brazilian Boogie” and “Somebody Loves Me”; the Ross Sisters performing “Solid Potato Salad”; and a young Nancy Walker bringing down the house with “Milkman, Keep Those Bottles Quiet.” Hazel Scott, Ben Blue and Eddie “Rochester” Anderson also appear. Time magazine called the movie “a Technicolored, tune-stirred summer salad into which MGM’s chefs seem to have whipped practically everyone and every thing on the lot except Leo the Growl and Louis B. Mayer.” Thomas “Tommy” Dorsey (1905-1956) was born in Shenandoah, Pa., the younger brother of famed jazz clarinettist Jimmy Dorsey. Tommy was known in his youth as both a trumpet and trombone player. He eventually settled on the trombone, becoming a successful free-lance radio and recording artist in the early 1930s. Before forming “The Dorsey Brothers Orchestra” with Jimmy in 1934, Tommy worked with Jean Goldkette, Paul Whiteman, Bix Beiderbecke, Joe Venuti, Eddie Lang and Red Nichols. After splitting with his brother, Tommy Dorsey formed his own band and chose “Sentimental” as his signature number. His group became the top band in the country, a title it held through much of the “swing” era. In addition to collaborating with many of the leading musicians of his time, Tommy worked with such outstanding vocalists as Sinatra, Jo Stafford, Connie Haines and The Pied Pipers. Tommy Dorsey’s distinguished recording career was capped by his biggest-selling record, an orchestrated version of the Pinetop Smith classic “Boogie-Woogie” that sold four million copies. The Dorsey Brothers reformed their band in 1953 and had their own television show on CBS in 1955-56.” (Roger Fristoe). A very good copy, with a few small chips and tears to the wrapper edges, and some tape residue to the front cover.

Original title: When My Baby Smiles at Me. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1948. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 5, 1948 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 10, 1948]. Screenplay written by Lamar Trotti, adapted by Elizabeth Reinhardt from Arthur Hopkins and George Manker Watters’ play Burlesque. Songs in the production include: “When My Baby Smiles At Me” (music by Bill Munro and lyrics by Andrew Sterling and Ted Lewis); “By The Way” and “What Did I Do?” (both with music by Josef Myrow and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Oh! Frenchy” (music by Con Conrad and lyrics by Mort Dixon); “Bye Bye Blackbird” and “Bam Bam Bamy Shore” (both with music by Ray Henderson and lyrics by Mort Dixon); “Oui, Oui, Marie” (music by Fred Fisher and lyrics by Al Bryan and Joseph McCarthy); “Don’t Bring Lulu” (music by Ray Henderson and lyrics by Billy Rose and Lew Brown); “Ain’t We Got Fun” (music by Richard A. Whiting and lyrics by Ray Egan and Gus Kahn); “The Birth Of The Blues” (music by Ray Henderson and lyrics by Buddy G. DeSylva and Lew Brown); “Sweet Georgia Brown” (music by Maceo Pinkard and lyrics by Kenneth Casey); “The Daughter Of Rosie O’Grady” (music by Walter Donaldson and lyrics by Monte Brice); “Say ‘Si Si’ (Para Vigo Me Voy)” (music by Ernesto Lecuona with lyrics by Francia Luban and English lyrics by Albert Stillman); “And He’d Say ‘Oo-La-La Wee-Wee” (music by Harry Ruby and lyrics by George Jessel); “Oh, My Love” (music by James V. Monaco and lyrics by Joseph McCarthy; and “How ‘Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down On The Farm (After They’ve Seen Paree?)” (music by Walter Donaldson and lyrics by Sam Lewis and Joe Young). Produced by George Jessel and directed by Walter Lang, the movie stars Betty Grable, Dan Dailey, Jack Oakie, June Havoc, Richard Arlen and James Gleason. “Betty Grable and Dan Dailey play a couple of small-time vaudevillians, at least until Dailey gets a big Broadway break. Success swells his head to cataclysmic dimensions; he becomes an alcoholic, loses his stardom and winds up in the drunk ward. Grable divorces Dailey to marry rancher Richard Arlen, but Dailey’s old pal Jack Oakie tries to rehabilitate the fallen star. Oakie’s mission seems hopeless until Grable rejoins the act, and everything is patched up... at least professionally. If the plot of When My Baby Smiles At Me seems familiar, [there have been two previous] versions of the George Manker Watters/Arthur Hopkins play Burlesque: The Dance of Life (1929) and Swing High, Swing Low (1937).” (Hal Erickson). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the following categories: Best Actor in a Leading Role (Dan Dailey); and Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Alfred Newman). The movie was also nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (Lamar Trotti). A near fine copy.

Original title: When My Baby Smiles at Me. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1948. Revised Final Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 19, 1948. This is a production team member’s copy with a holograph cast list in blue ink on the inside front cover, holograph shooting dates (‘Started: Monday, Mar. 22, 1948 / Finished: Saturday, June 5, 1948’), production credits on the distribution page (from which the perforated receipt has been removed) and notations in red pencil throughout indicating the shooting dates of various scenes. There are 136 numbered pages, with five blue change pages dated June 18, 1948 indicating new scenes to be shot along with holograph notes in red pencil regarding their insertion. Wrappers lightly worn at the edges, else a near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1942. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated March 11, 1942 with inserted revision pages dated as late as May 20, 1942 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 17, 1942]. Screenplay written by John McClain from an idea by Ladislas Fodor. Songs in the production include: “Cairo” and “The Waltz Is Over” (both with music by Arthur Schwartz and lyrics by E.Y. Harburg); “Keep The Light Burning Bright” (music by Arthur Schwartz and lyrics by Howard Dietz and E.Y. Harburg); “Buds Won’t Bud” (music by Harold Arlen and lyrics by E.Y. Harburg); “Les Filles de Cadiz” (music by Léo Delibes and lyrics by Alfred de Musset); “A Heart That’s Free” (music by Alfred G. Robyn and lyrics by Thomas Railey); “Il bacio (The Kiss)” (music by Luigi Arditi and lyrics by Gottardo Aldighieri); “Chi mi frena (The Sextet)” (music by Gaetano Donizetti and lyrics by Salvatore Cammarano); “We Did It Before And We Can Do It Again” (music by Cliff Friend and lyrics by Charles Tobias); “To A Wild Rose” (music by Edward MacDowell and lyrics by Herman Hagedorn); “From The Land Of The Sky-Blue Water” (music by Charles Wakefield Cadman and lyrics by Nelle Richmond Eberhart); “Beautiful Ohio” (music by Mary Earl – a pseudonym of Robert A. King – and lyrics by Ballard MacDonald); “Waiting For The Robert E. Lee” (music by Lewis F. Muir and lyrics by L. Wolfe Gilbert); “Avalon” (music by Vincent Rose and lyrics by Buddy G. DeSylva and Al Jolson); and “There’s No Place Like Home (Home, Sweet Home)” (music by H.R. Bishop with lyrics by John Howard Payne). Produced by Joseph L. Mankiewicz and directed by W.S. Van Dyke, the movie stars Jeanette MacDonald, Robert Young, Ethel Waters, Reginald Owen, Grant Mitchell, Lionel Atwill, Eduardo Ciannelli, Mitchell Lewis, Dooley Wilson, Larry Nunn, Dennis Hoey, Mona Barrie, Rhys Williams, Cecil Cunningham, Harry Worth and Frank Richards. “Cairo is an unjustly overlooked film, full of the same hearty, undemanding pleasures as a well-crafted sitcom. Except for the unfortunate coincidence of its title and release date, it would probably have won critical approval. In the middle of World War II, Cairo was just what the public needed – a tongue-in-cheek spy spoof that poked good-natured fun at Nazi spies in the best wartime tradition. (If you can’t dehumanize your opponents, at least make them absurd). Director W.S. Van Dyke was in his milieu, the breezy action film with comedy touches. Cairo featured bubbly songs by E.Y. Harburg and Arthur Schwartz, both Hit Parade veterans, and Jeanette MacDonald was rarely more lovely with her tailor-made rôle as a former operetta screen queen turned sophisticated nightclub singer. The film’s finale, in which the diva opens a pharaoh’s tomb by singing high C, is obviously intended as the broadest of spoofs, but most critics and audiences missed the point. Their perceptions were understandably blunted by current events. Just before Cairo was released, Churchill and Roosevelt met in Cairo for a major war conference with Turkish and Chinese leaders. So audiences came expecting a serious war film and found a light entertainment instead. It was a little like issuing a frivolous musical called Pearl Harbor in late 1941. A title change might have helped, but the film was considered too unimportant to warrant the heavy expense of a new publicity campaign. It was Jeanette MacDonald’s check-out picture from MGM after nine years as its top musical star. Her co-star was Robert Young, whose quality of amiable earnestness would see him through more than eighty films in the first twenty-five years of sound films before television claimed him for “Father Knows Best” and “Marcus Welby, M.D.” Ethel Waters was a box-office question mark, and promotion for Cairo carefully captioned her photo “Broadway musical comedy star.” Black performers were still either servants or nightclub performers who could easily be snipped out of prints for Dixie distribution. A year later, Miss Waters would give a superb performance, recreating her stage role in Vincente Minnelli’s all-black film, Cabin in the Sky. In the 1950s, she appeared in the stage and film versions of Carson McCullers’ unforgettable Member of the Wedding with Julie Harris and Brandon de Wilde. With her zest, sparkling good humor, and ultimate dignity, she comes close to stealing Cairo from its nominal stars, despite her brief footage.” (Charles Bates). Front wrapper slightly creased, else a near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1950. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 8, 1950 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 31, 1951]. Screenplay written by Albert E. Lewin and Burt Styler based on the musical revue by Harold Rome and Arnold M. Auerbach. Songs in the production include: “Call Me Mister” and “Goin’ Home Train” (both written by Harold Rome); “Japanese Girl Like ‘merican Boy”, “I Just Can’t Do Enough For You, Baby” and “Love Is Back In Business” (all with music by Sammy Fain and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “I’m Gonna Love That Guy (Like He’s Never Been Loved Before)” (written by Frances Ash); “Lament To The Pots And Pans” (music by Earl K. Brent and lyrics by Jerry Seelen); and “Military Life” (music by Harold Rome and lyrics by Jerry Seelen). Produced by Fred Kohlmar and directed by Lloyd Bacon, the movie stars Betty Grable, Dan Dailey, Danny Thomas, Dale Robertson, Benay Venuta, Richard Boone, Jeffrey Hunter, Frank Fontaine, Bob Roberts, Lou Spencer and Art Stanley. “Call Me Mister originated as a revue with sketches by Arnold Auerbach and words and music by Harold Rome. The title refers to returning soldiers who expected to be addressed as civilians instead of by their military rank. The Broadway production, directed by Robert H. Gordon, opened on April 18, 1946 at the National Theatre. It transferred twice, to the Majestic and the Plymouth, before completing its run of 734 performances. The cast included Betty Garrett, George Irving, Maria Karnilova, Harry Clark, Jules Munshin, and Lawrence Winters. A cast recording was released by Decca Records. In 1951, Twentieth Century-Fox released a Lloyd Bacon-directed film version with a storyline corresponding with current events. Only three songs from the Broadway production were retained. Set in Japan during the transition period between World War II and the Korean War, it starred Betty Grable as American USO entertainer Kay Hudson, who crosses paths with former husband Shep Dooley (Dan Dailey), determined to win her back despite the presence of her current beau, Capt. Johnny Comstock (Dale Robertson). The plot basically served as an excuse for Grable and Dailey to demonstrate their dancing skills in routines choreographed by the legendary Busby Berkeley, who had collaborated with Bacon on the 1933 film classic 42nd Street. Cast as a GI who hates the army, newcomer Danny Thomas performed a truncated version of his own nightclub act, and an unbilled Bobby Short played the piano in several sequences, and sang “Going Home Train”, one of the few songs retained from the show. Benay Venuta, Richard Boone, and Jeffrey Hunter rounded out the cast.” (Charles Bates). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1950. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 18, 1950. This is producer Darryl F. Zanuck’s personal copy of the script, with his familiar large ‘D.Z.’ ownership initials in holograph pencil on the upper front wrapper. A very good copy or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1943. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 12, 1943 [the movie’s U.S release date was June 18, 1943]. Screenplay written by George Seaton. Songs in the production include “Take It From There”; “Beautiful Coney Island”; “Miss Lulu From Louisville”; “Get The Money”; “There’s Danger In A Dance”; and “Old Demon Rum” (all with music by Ralph Rainger and lyrics by Leo Robin); “Put Your Arms Around Me, Honey (I Never Knew Any Girl Like You)” (music by Albert von Tilzer and lyrics by Junie McCree); “Cuddle Up A Little Closer” (words by Otto A. Harbach and music by Karl Hoschna); “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” (music by Ernest Ball and lyrics by Chauncy Olcott and George Graff Jr.); “Pretty Baby” (music by Egbert Van Alstyne and Tony Jackson and lyrics by Gus Kahn); and “The Darktown Strutters Ball” (written by Shelton Brooks). Produced by William Perlberg and directed by Walter Lang, the movie stars Betty Grable, George Montgomery, Cesar Romero, Charles Winninger, Phil Silvers, Matt Briggs, Paul Hurst and Leo Diamond. “Everything clicks in this tuneful, colorful and profitable Betty Grable musical. The star plays Katie Farley, a gyrating saloon entertainer in turn-of-the-century New York. Convinced that Katie is destined for Bigger Things, Coney Island impresario Eddie Johnson (George Montgomery) tries to turn the raucous song-and-dance girl into a refined entertainer, at one point handcuffing her wrists and ankles so she’ll be forced to rely on her voice rather than her undulations. Sure enough, Katie becomes a high-class Broadway star under the aegis of showman Willie Hammerstein (Matt Briggs) – and equally sure enough, she and Eddie grow apart. After a desultory romance with Eddie’s rival, slick saloon owner Joe Rocco (Cesar Romero), Katie eventually returns to the arms of the man she truly loves, as comedy relief Frankie (Phil Silvers) looks on in myopic glee. Among the musical highlights of Coney Island is Betty’s delightful rendition of the old chestnut “Cuddle Up a Little Closer”. The film was remade, again with Grable, as Wabash Avenue (1950).” (Hal Erickson). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Alfred Newman). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1954. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated September 29, 1954 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 5, 1955]. Screenplay written by Henry Ephron and Phoebe Ephron, based on the novel Daddy-Long-Legs by Jean Webster. Songs in the production include: “Something’s Gotta Give”; “Dream”; “Sluefoot”; “History of the Beat”; “Welcome Egghead”; “C-A-T Spells Cat”; “Daddy Long Legs”; “Texas Millionaire”; “International Playboy”; “Guardian Angel”; and “Dancing Through Life” (all with music and lyrics by Johnny Mercer). Produced by Samuel G. Engel and directed by Jean Negulesco, the movie stars Fred Astaire, Leslie Caron, Terry Moore, Thelma Ritter, Fred Clark, Charlotte Austin, Larry Keating, Kathryn Givney and Kelly Brown. “Daddy Long Legs is a musical comedy set in France, New York City, and the fictional college town of “Walston” in Massachusetts. It was one of star Fred Astaire’s personal favorites, largely due to the script which, for once, directly addresses the complications inherent in a love affair between a young woman and a man thirty years her senior. However, the making of it was marred by his wife’s death from lung cancer. Deeply traumatised, Astaire offered to pay the production expenses already incurred in order to quit the project, but then changed his mind. This was the first of three consecutive Astaire films set in France or with a French theme (the others being Funny Face and Silk Stockings), following the fashion for French-themed musicals established by ardent Francophile Gene Kelly with An American in Paris (1951), which also featured Kelly’s protégée Leslie Caron. In the movie, wealthy American Jervis Pendleton III (Fred Astaire) has a chance encounter at a French orphanage with a cheerful 18-year-old resident, Julie Andre (Leslie Caron). He anonymously pays for her education at a New England college. She writes letters to her mysterious benefactor regularly, but he never writes back; all she really knows about him is that she once saw his elongated shadow, hence her nickname for him, “Daddy Long Legs.” Several years later, he visits her at school, still concealing his identity and – despite their large age difference – they soon fall in love. Astaire’s first film in Cinemascope widescreen – which he was to parody later in the “Stereophonic Sound” number from Silk Stockings (1957) – provided him the opportunity to explore the additional space available, with the help of his assistant choreographer Dave Robel (Roland Petit designed the much-maligned “Nightmare Ballet” number). As usual, Astaire adapted his choreography to the particular strengths of his partner, in this case ballet. Even so, Caron ran into some problems in this, her last dance musical, to the extent that Astaire mentioned in his biography that “one day at rehearsals I asked her to listen extra carefully to the music, so as to keep in time.” Caron herself puts this down to flaws in her early musical training. The final result, however, has a pleasing and appropriate dreamlike quality. In this respect, it is a more successful attempt to integrate ballet into Astaire’s dance routines than his previous effort in Shall We Dance (1937). The musical sequences in the movie include: “History Of The Beat” – An Astaire song and dance solo using drumsticks performed in an office environment. While the use of drumsticks recalls the “Nice Work If You Can Get It” routine from A Damsel In Distress (1937), and the “Drum Crazy” number from Easter Parade (1948), it is a pale shadow of either, and, given that this was the first number to be filmed, some commentators have speculated that it was affected by Astaire’s grief at his wife’s death; “Daddy Long Legs” – An off-screen female chorus sing this attractive number while Caron muses fondly at a blackboard cartoon sketch of Astaire; “Daydream Sequence” – Astaire appears in three guises: A Texan, an international playboy, and a guardian angel based on images of him described in letters from Caron. As a Texan he performs a comic gallumphing square dance routine to a short song dubbed for him by Thurl Ravenscroft – the only time in his career that Astaire’s voice was dubbed. As an international playboy he tangoes his way through a flock of women, one of whom is Barrie Chase – who was later to be his dance partner in all of his television specials from 1958-1968. The third routine is a particularly attractive and gentle romantic partnered dance with Caron, where she performs graceful ballet steps while Astaire glides admiringly around her; “Sluefoot” – A boisterous and joyous partnered dance with Astaire and Caron with a lot of sharp leg movements in which, untypically, Astaire inserts a short and zany solo segment. The chorus join in towards the end; “Nightmare Ballet” – A solo routine for Caron frequently criticised for its rather meaningless content and length (it lasts all of twelve minutes); “Dream” – A short but much admired celebratory romantic partnered routine for Astaire and Caron with dreamlike twirling motifs and, unusually for Astaire, incorporating a kiss; and “Something’s Gotta Give” – Astaire was deeply grateful to his friend Johnny Mercer for composing this now famous standard as he felt the film sorely lacked a strong popular song. In the romantic partnered routine which follows Astaire’s rendition of the song, he exploits – albeit reluctantly – the wide lateral spaces afforded by the Cinemascope format. While the routine has many attractive qualities and the ending is particularly fine, some commentators have detected a certain stiffness in Caron, especially in her upper body. In an interview with the BBC, Mercer described how “Something’s Gotta Give” – one of his finest songs – was written: “I woke up one night with an idea for a song – ‘Something’s Gotta Give,’ that’s another popular expression that everybody used. I got up and I wrote a kind of sketch of it, like the bones, but not the full structure. I think the melody was a little different….” Shortly afterwards came the assignment for Daddy Long Legs. “And I said, ‘Well, this song would be perfect for the picture,’ and it’s the kind of song that Fred likes. You know, it sounds sophisticated, and it’s got that kind of off-beat rhythm. But I had another ballad called ‘I Never Knew’ – I think it was called. There had been several songs called ‘I Never Knew,’ but mine was a nice song. I wrote both the music and the words for this picture, which I seldom do. And we went up one afternoon, the piano player and I, to play the songs for Fred, and we played a couple of dance songs, and the other ballad. And his face, I could see, he was really disappointed. I said, ‘Oh, by the way, I’ve got another song that you might like better than that ballad.’ So then I started to sing ‘Something’s Gotta Give’ and a big smile came on his face, and before I finished the chorus, he was up on his feet, dancing. And he said, ‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ And I said, ‘Why?’ And he said, ‘Well, don’t you see? I’m forty or fifty years old, and I’m in love with a girl who’s about eighteen or twenty, and it makes the whole thing believable. When an old immovable object like me meets a…’ Whatever the words are, I’ve forgotten them right now. I was thrilled that he was thrilled.”” (Charles Bates). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the following categories: Best Art Direction-Set Direction, Color (Lyle R. Wheeler, John DeCuir, Walter M. Scott and Paul S. Fox); Best Music, Original Song (Johnny Mercer, for “Something’s Gotta Give”); and Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Alfred Newman). The film was also nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award for Best Written American Musical (Henry Ephron and Phoebe Ephron). Some creasing at the spine, with a single closed tear to the front wrapper, else a very good copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer: 1947. Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. “A Date with Judy” has been written in holograph ink at the center of the front wrapper in an unknown hand with the internal pages dated between November 12, 1947 and December 8, 1947 [the movie’s U.S. release date was July 29, 1948]. Screenplay by Dorothy Cooper and Dorothy Kingsley with assistance by Aleen Leslie. Songs in the production include: “Love Is Where You Find It” (music by Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics by Earl K. Brent); “Temptation” (music by Nacio Herb Brown); “Judaline” (music by Don Raye and lyrics by Gene de Paul); “It’s A Most Unusual Day” (music by Harold Adamson and lyrics by Jimmy McHugh); “I’m Strictly On The Corny Side” (music by Stella Unger and lyrics by Alec Templeton); “I’ve Got A Date With Judy” (music by Bill Katz and lyrics by Calvin Jackson); “Marguerita” (music by Xavier Cugat); “Ali Baba” (music by Ernesto Lecuona); and “Cuenta La Gusta” (music by Gabriel Ray and lyrics by Ray Gilbert). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Richard Thorpe, the movie stars Wallace Beery, Jane Powell, Elizabeth Taylor, Carmen Miranda, Xavier Cugat, Robert Stack, Scotty Beckett, Selena Royle, Leon Ames, Clinton Sundberg, George Cleveland, Lloyd Corrigan, Jerry Hunter and Jean McLaren. “The vibrant 1948 MGM musical A Date With Judy was born out of a popular 1940s radio show about the humorous adventures of bubbly teenager Judy Foster and her family. Joe Pasternak produced the screen version while Richard Thorpe directed and Stanley Donen choreographed the dance numbers. Perennial girl-next-door Jane Powell stars as Judy, who casts aside her steady boyfriend Oogie (Scotty Beckett) after she develops a crush on an older man (Robert Stack). Unfortunately, Judy’s scheming best friend Carol (Elizabeth Taylor) has eyes for the same man and competes shamelessly for his affections. Jane Powell was used to playing good-girl types, but for Elizabeth Taylor A Date With Judy represented a chance to build a whole new image. Taylor had begun her career playing juvenile roles in films like Lassie Come Home (1943) and National Velvet (1944). The role of sultry bad-girl Carol in A Date With Judy gave her the opportunity to show the world that she was no longer a child, but a beautiful young woman. A direct contrast to Powell’s girlish wholesomeness, Taylor’s character was more mature, and costumes and makeup strategically played up her sensuality. This move would prove valuable to Taylor’s career, as she rapidly became one of the screen’s most enduring sex symbols. Jane Powell later expressed dismay that Taylor got to play the vampy role while she was stuck playing another good girl – “Elizabeth – who was younger than I – got to wear green eye shadow, show her figure in a tight sweater, and look sexy; that hurt. I was really a little jealous, not of her but of the green eye shadow.” However, the two actresses were actually good friends who had been schooled together on the MGM lot. They shared a dressing room during the making of A Date With Judy and served as bridesmaids for each other at their respective first weddings. Musical number highlights in A Date With Judy include the popular “It’s a Most Unusual Day” and “Judaline.” However, it’s the “Brazilian Bombshell” Carmen Miranda who nearly steals the show in a supporting role as rhumba teacher Rosita. Her energetic rendition of “Cuenta La Gusta” alone makes watching A Date With Judy worthwhile. Miranda was always a favorite of star Jane Powell “with her big banana hats and her heart as big as all outdoors.” Playing Miranda’s love interest is famed band leader and “Rhumba King” Xavier Cugat, who as usual plays a part close to himself and livens things up with his rousing Latin influenced music. Character actor Wallace Beery plays Judy’s father, who receives secret rhumba lessons from Carmen Miranda as an anniversary gift from his wife. Beery may have been right for the part, but to Jane Powell he was her least favorite on-screen dad. “He ignored everybody and everything. He never said hello. He never said good-bye. He never smiled,” she recalled in her 1988 autobiography The Girl Next Door....and How She Grew. Plus, “He was stingy. If filming on a picture was coming to an end and he suspected there might be some retakes, he’d take home his entire wardrobe. One time he took a canoe that had property of MGM on the bottom, and rented it to the studio for retakes!” Still Powell respected him as an actor and recalled her overall experience on the film a pleasant one. Powell received the honor of getting her first on-screen kiss ever in A Date With Judy bestowed by handsome co-star Robert Stack. A Date With Judy made a hit with the public, and a television series was eventually spun off in 1952 starring Mary Linn Beller as Judy.” (Andrea Passafiume). A near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1945. Continuity Dialogue Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 9, 1945 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 2, 1945]. Screenplay written by George Seaton based on the play The Barker by Kenyon Nicholson. Songs in the production include: “Welcome To The Diamond Horseshoe”; “Cooking Up A Show”; “In Acapulco”; “I Wish I Knew”; “The More I See You”; “Carrie (Carrie Marry Marry)”; “Play Me An Old Fashioned Melody”; “A Nickel’s Worth Of Jive”; “You’ll Never Know”; “Dessert Finale”; and “The Old And The New Prelude” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” (music by Leo Friedman and lyrics by Beth Slater Whitson); and “Shoo, Shoo, Baby” (written by Phil Moore); and “Aba Daba Honeymoon” (music by Walter Donovan and lyrics by Arthur Fields); and “(I’d Climb The Highest Mountain) If I Knew I’d Find You” (written by Lew Brown and Sidney Clare); and “I’ve Got A Gal In Kalamazoo”; “People Like You And Me”; Chattanooga Choo Choo”; (all with music by Harry Warren); and “My Melancholy Baby” (music by Ernie Burnett and lyrics by George A. Norton); and “The Hut-Sut Song” (written by Leo Killion, Ted McMichael and Jack Owens); “Hold Tight, Hold Tight (Want Some Seafood, Mama)” (written by Jerry Brandow, Buddy G. DeSylva, Edward Robinson, Willie Spottswood and Leonard Ware); and “Flat Foot Floogie” (music by Slim Gaillard and Slam Stewart and lyrics by Bud Green); and “Mairzy Doats” (written by Milton Drake, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston). Produced by William Perlberg and directed by George Seaton, the movie stars Betty Grable, Dick Haymes, Phil Silvers, William Gaxton, Beatrice Kay, Carmen Cavallaro, Willie Solar and Margaret Dumont. “Seldom have business and pleasure been conjoined to such a notable degree as they are in Twentieth Century-Fox’s new picture, Billy Rose’s Diamond Horseshoe. At least a million dollars worth of fanfare for Mr. Rose’s New York night club is ballyhooed by this far from modest pageant, which came to the Roxy yesterday, and it is also a snappy entertainment in the strictly gala musical-spectacle line. That’s because all the standard ingredients of such fare have been pleasantly combined with a book of more than average life and humor, and it has all been directed cheerfully. Don’t groan when we tell you that it’s another backstage boy-girl romance, because it happens that the author and director, George Seaton, had mildly kidded the idea. He has taken a stage-struck young doctor and a gold-digging night club girl and has juggled them cutely in a love-duel which makes – now, get this! – psychological fun. That is to say, the little lady has what the lad calls a “mink coat complex” and he has what she discovers to be a self-demonstration urge. Together they solve their complexes in a neatly conventional way. With that yarn – which, incidentally, all happens in and around Mr. Rose’s lush night club – Mr. Seaton has mixed some very fancy and entertaining extravaganza stuff. He has put on some decorative parades of magnificent show girls, some comedy routines of lively nature and three or four pleasant songs. Betty Grable plays the glamorous cutie with considerable down-to-earthiness, and Dick Haymes is surprisingly natural as the wishful young medico. William Gaxton plays the latter’s hoofing father with real grease-paint authority and Phil Silvers has some big opportunities to be amusing – and makes the most of them. Best of the musical numbers is a contrapuntal song routine in which Beatrice Kay yowls “Play Me an Old-Fashioned Melody” and Miss Grable swings “A Nickel’s Worth of Jive.” The latter, wearing a brief but gaudy costume, also sells “Acapulco” pepperishly, and she and Mr. Haymes exchange their sentiments very sweetly with “The More I See of You.” If it is true, as has been reported, that Mr. Rose was paid $75,000 for this privilege of advertising his night club, somebody was crazy – and it wasn’t Mr. Rose. (Incidentally, the Mighty Bantam isn’t in it, other than as reverently mentioned name.)” (Bosley Crowther, New York Times review of May 3, 1945). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1945. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated July 27, 1945 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 1946]. Screenplay written by Leonard Praskins, adapted by Harold Buchman from Gypsy Rose Lee’s play The Naked Genius. Songs in the production include: “Somebody’s Walking In My Dream”; “Red Hot And Beautiful”; “Here Comes Heaven Again”; “Dig You Later (A-Hubba Hubba Hubba)”; and “Chico Chico” (all with music by Jimmy McHugh and lyrics by Harold Adamson. Produced by Bryan Foy and directed by Lewis Seiler, the movie stars Vivian Blaine, Dennis O’Keefe, Perry Como, Carmen Miranda, Martha Stewart, Stephen Dunne, Reed Hadley, Stanley Prager, Charles Tannen, George E. Stone, Frank Orth and Donald McBride. “Doll Face is one of two attempts by Twentieth Century-Fox to make a movie star out of crooner Perry Como (the other was If I’m Lucky). Actually, Como is but a cog in the wheel of the main plot, which involves Doll Face (Vivian Blaine), a stripteaser with artistic pretensions. On the advice of her manager/boyfriend, Mike Hannegan (Dennis O’Keefe), Doll Face undergoes a “refinement” process. The next step for the girl is to write an intellectual autobiography, for which ghostwriter Gerard (Michael Dunne) is engaged. Forget the plot, and concentrate on the production numbers performed with gusto by Blaine, Como, and Carmen Miranda. Doll Face is based on The Naked Genius, a play by Louise Hovick – better known as striptease artist Gypsy Rose Lee.” (Hal Erickson). A very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1944. Third Revised Final Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 7, 1944 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 5, 1945]. Screenplay written by John Larkin and Marian Spitzer. Songs in the production include: “The Vamp” (written by Byron Gay); “I Can’t Begin To Tell You” (music by James V. Monaco and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Give Me The Moonlight, Give Me The Girl” (music by Albert von Tilzer and lyrics by Lew Brown); “We Have Been Around” and “Don’t Be Too Old Fashioned (Old Fashioned Girl)” (both with music by Charles Henderson and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Carolina In The Morning” (music by Walter Donaldson and lyrics by Gus Kahn); “Powder, Lipstick And Rouge” (music by Harry Revel and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows” (music by Harry Carroll and lyrics by Joseph McCarthy); “The Darktown Strutters’ Ball” (written by Sheldon Brooks); “Arrah Go On, I’m Gonna Go Back To Oregon” (music by Bert Grant and lyrics by Sam Lewis and Joe Young); “Oh! Frenchy” (music by Con Conrad and lyrics by Sam Ehrlich); “Pack Up Your Troubles In Your Old Kit Bag And Smile, Smile, Smile!” (music by Felix Powell and lyrics by George Asaf); “ The Sidewalks Of New York” (music by Charles Lawlor and lyrics by James W. Blake); “Oh You Beautiful Doll” (music by Nat Ayer); “Smiles” (music by Lee S. Roberts and lyrics by J. Will Callahan); “On The Mississippi” (music by Harry Carroll and Arthur Fields and lyrics by Ballard MacDonald); “Give My Regards To Broadway” (music by George M. Cohan); and “Cheyenne” (music by Egbert Van Alstyne). Produced by George Jessel and directed by Irving Cummings, the movie stars Betty Grable, John Payne, June Haver, S.Z. Sakall, Reginald Gardiner, Frank Latimore, Gene Sheldon, Sig Ruman and Trudy Marshall. “The Dolly Sisters is the heavily Hollywoodized biopic of Jennie and Rosie Dolly, Hungarian-born entertainers who took Broadway by storm in the early 1900s. Betty Grable plays Jennie and June Haver plays Rosie; their uncle is the inevitable “funny foreigner” S.Z. Sakall, who manages their career from childhood. Passing an important audition for Oscar Hammerstein, the Dolly girls become international stage headliners, but in so doing they find that their private life is strained. Jennie in particular is perplexed by the dilemma of devoting herself to a career while still finding time to romance handsome composer John Payne. The Dolly girls are separated permanently when Rosie is fatally injured in an auto accident, but Jennie finds lasting happiness with her composer. Despite the pre-World War I ambience of the film, both Grable and Haver show off a lot more skin than would have been permissible in earlier times. But Dolly Sisters producer George Jessel knew what he was doing, and the Technicolor film was a major hit in 1945.” (Hal Erickson). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (James V. Monaco and Mack Gordon for “I Can’t Begin To Tell You”). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1944. Fourth Revised Final Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 11, 1944. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1944. Fifth Revised Final Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 27, 1944. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1945. Sixth Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated January 17, 1945. A large chip at the upper front wrapper and head of the spine, else a very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1940. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated June 19, 1940 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 11, 1940]. Screenplay written by Kurl Tunberg and Darrell Ware, based on a story by Rian James and Ralph Spence. Songs in the production include: “Down Argentine Way”; “Nenita”; “Sing To Your Señorita”; and “Two Dreams Met (Dos Sueños)” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon). Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Irving Cummings, the movie stars Don Ameche, Betty Grable, Carmen Miranda, Charlotte Greenwood, J. Carrol Naish, Henry Stephenson and Kay Aldridge. “Offhand, we can’t think of anyone more abundantly qualified to serve as a ministress plenipotentiary to the Latin American lands than Betty Grable. So it is altogether likely that Twentieth Century-Fox’s Down Argentine Way, in which Miss Grable appears, will excite a powerful lot of good neighborliness in the countries south of us. Yessir, we can just imagine how the boys down in Rio and B.A. will bubble with amity when they see Miss Grable up there on the screen. But why confine it to the boys down in Rio and B.A.? There are plenty of home-town fellows who will feel very neighborily towards her, too. And that’s a very good thing – for Twentieth Century-Fox, anyhow. For, except for the beauteous Miss Grable and a couple of peppery songs from Carmen Miranda, Down Argentine Way hasn’t much to lend it an air of distinction. Observed without either of those ladies within the camera’s range, it is just a sprawling Technicolored musical picture concocted out of some flashy production numbers and a few specialty acts. The story is a silly trifle about an American lass, Miss Grable, falling in love with that old gaucho, Don Ameche, and hanging around the night clubs, horse farms and race tracks of Argentina with him until everyone has had a chance to perform in a song and dance or two. Then they embrace, for about the sixth time, in the moonlight – and that’s all. Of course, being a Darryl F. Zanuck production, there is a horserace climax and three or four colorful parades of horseflesh. You know – instead of show girls. There is also Charlotte Greenwood cutting middle-aged capers, and Leonid Kinskey vis-à-vis as a comic gigolo. Miss Miranda sings “South American Way” and a few Spanish trifles scorchily, but we don’t see enough of her. That, happily, is not an objection which can be raised with respect to Miss Grable, however. We see plenty of her – singing, dancing and wearing clothes of surprising magnificence. We even see her trying to act, which is something less of a pleasure. But, hold – what sort of good neighbor would make a remark like that! Pardon us, Miss Grable. Consider it unmade.” (Bosley Crowther, New York Times review of October 18, 1940). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the following categories: Best Art Direction, Color (Richard Day and Joseph C. Wright); Best Cinematography, Color (Leon Shamroy and Ray Rennahan); and Best Music, Original Song (Harry Warren and Mack Gordon for “Down Argentine Way”). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1940. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated September 25, 1940. A very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1948. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated September 16, 1948 with inserted revision pages dated as late as September 24, 1948 [the movie’s U.S. release date was July 14, 1950]. Screenplay written by Dorothy Cooper, Jerry Davis and Sid Fields. Songs in the production include: “Let’s Choo Choo Choo To Idaho,” “You Can’t Do Wrong Doin’ Right” and “Of All Things” (all with music by Al Rinker and lyrics by Floyd Huddleston); and “Baby Come Out Of The Clouds” (music by Henry Nemo and lyrics by Lee Pearl). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Robert Z. Leonard, the movie stars Esther Williams, Van Johnson, John Lund, Paula Raymond, Clinton Sundberg, Connie Haines, Mel Tormé, Amanda Blake, Tommy Farrell, Sig Arno, Dick Simmons, Lena Horne and Eleanor Powell. “Except for two aquatic numbers, swimming star Esther Williams is largely out of the water in the romantic drama Duchess of Idaho (1950). She plays Christine Duncan, a nightclub water performer who goes undercover as a seductress to help out her roommate. Christine’s shy, lovesick roommate Ellen Hallet (Paula Raymond) has been unable to get her playboy boss Douglas J. Morrison (John Lund) to pay her any attention, though she continually helps him out of sticky situations with fortune-hunting vixens. In an attempt to create one such opportunity for Ellen to rescue Douglas, Christine masquerades as a marriage-hungry vamp traveling to Sun Valley, Idaho bent on seducing the vacationing Douglas. Things become complicated in the vacation paradise of endless skiing and swimming when Christine finds herself easily romancing Douglas, even as she begins to fall in love with bandleader Dick Layn (Van Johnson) whose group performs every evening in the resort’s nightclub. Much romantic tension ensues when Dick and Ellen both become jealous over Christine’s continuing flirtation with Douglas. Esther Williams was a consistent box office draw in the Hollywood of the Forties, ranked as one of the top ten stars in 1949. And the spectacular Technicolor and beautiful Sun Valley locales, along with Williams’s crowd-drawing power made Duchess one of the top moneymaking films of 1950 alongside On the Town and Annie Get Your Gun. The Duchess of Idaho was also Williams’s return to the screen after the birth one year previously of her first child, Benjamin Stanton Gage. In her autobiography, The Million Dollar Mermaid, Williams described the enormous professional demands then placed on movie stars, whose newborns were often enlisted into the publicity effort. “Everyone wanted pictures of a sweet baby and a pretty mother, preferably one who’s got her figure back already.” Williams complained that, “after an all-too-brief maternity leave, you were expected back on the lot, ‘camera ready,’ which in my case meant looking good in a swimsuit, so I got in the pool right after Benjie was born.” Williams quickly lost the 25 pounds gained during pregnancy, with the MGM publicity department claiming she had even lost an inch off her hips. That same year Williams signed a new contract with MGM guaranteeing her $1,300,000 and $2,500 a week. It was Williams’s fourth pairing with Van Johnson (her last would be 1953’s Easy to Love), and much to the actress’s chagrin, a return to the formula of the mismatched lovers plot. “As happy as I was to be working once more with Van,” she recalled, “the recycled plots were getting to me. At one point I turned to Van and said, ‘Didn’t we do this scene before in an elevator?’” He laughed. “Esther, this is our fourth picture together: We’ve done this scene in an elevator; at the side of the pool, and we’ve even done it swimming in the pool together; with you holding me up so I could say my lines and not go blub-blub-underwater.” He was not exaggerating... We could laugh about it, but the truth was that there was a definite predictability to the plots of my films. Audiences had come to expect a certain kind of film from me, and these movies were immensely popular.” The New York Times seemed to agree, its critic quipping, “the principals, as well as their surroundings, never looked lovelier than they do in the panchromatic hues of Technicolor and the story is routine and often painfully obvious.” Though some of the thwarted lovers story might have been a return to familiar territory, there was some novelty to distinguish Duchess from the pack, including numerous star cameos. The nightclub scenes in Duchess feature Lena Horne singing “Baby Come Out of the Clouds,” an unbilled guest appearance by Red Skelton and a peppy Eleanor Powell boogie-woogie dance number for which Mrs. Glenn Ford came out of retirement.” (Felicia Feaster). Wrappers lightly foxed and faded, else a very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1952. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 29, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was June 12, 1953]. Screenplay written by Walter Bullock, Sally Benson and Joseph Fields, based on the play of the same name by Frank B. Elser and Marc Connelly, which in turn was based on Walter D. Edmonds’ novel Rome Haul. Songs in the production include: “Opening”; “Today I Love Everybody”; “On The Erie Canal”; “We’re Doing It For The Natives Of Jamaica”; “Can You Spell Schenectady”; “Somethin’ Real Special”; “With The Sun Warm Upon Me”; “We’re In Business”; “I Could Cook”; and “When I Close The Door” (all with music by Harold Arlen and lyrics by Dorothy Fields). Produced by Frank P. Rosenberg and directed by Henry Levin, the movie stars Betty Grable, Dale Robertson, Thelma Ritter, John Carroll, Eddie Foy Jr., Charlotte Austin, Kathleen Crowley, Merry Anders and May Wynn. “The Farmer Takes A Wife is a musicalized remake of the 1935 film of the same name. Betty Grable and Dale Robertson star in the roles originally essayed by Janet Gaynor and Henry Fonda. Set in the early 19th century, the plot details the trials and tribulations of those hardy souls who settled along the Erie Canal. Grable plays Molly Larkin, the girlfriend of rough-and-tumble canal-boat captain Jotham Klore (John Carroll). Much to Klore’s dismay, she hires mild-mannered farmer Daniel Harrow (Robertson) to work on the boat. Molly and Daniel fall in love and marry, but there’s many a heartbreak and letdown before a happy ending can be reached. Though not in any way a “typical” Betty Grable musical, Farmer Takes A Wife was misleadingly advertised as such: one promotional still showed a grinning Grable anachronistically garbed in tight jeans and a bare-midriff blouse! Both versions of The Farmer Takes A Wife were adapted from the stage play by Frank B. Elser and Marc Connelly.” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1952. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 7, 1952. A very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1931. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY,’ ‘FILE COPY’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated August 5, 1931 with a holograph notation in pencil in an unknown hand above the date which states ”Shooting script 8-6” [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 14, 1931]. Screenplay written by A.P. Younger with additional dialogue by Robert E. Hopkins, adapted by Charles Reisner from the musical play of the same name by Buddy G. DeSylva, Lew Brown, Ray Henderson and John McGowan. Songs in the production include: “I’ll Make A Happy Landing (The Lucky Day I Land You),” “It’ll Be The First Time For Me” and “We’ll Dance Until The Dawn” (all with music by Jimmy McHugh and lyrics by Dorothy Fields); “Anchors Aweigh” (music by Charles A. Zimmerman and lyrics by Alfred Hart Miles and R. Lovell); and “The Stars And Stripes Forever” (music and lyrics by John Philip Sousa). Produced by George White and directed by Charles Reisner, the movie stars Bert Lahr, Charlotte Greenwood, Pat O’Brien, Kathryn Crawford, Charles Winninger, Hedda Hopper, Guy Kibbee, Herbert Braggiotti and Gus Arnheim. “[MGM] secured the rights to the Broadway musical Flying High and the services of its star Bert Lahr, then spent nearly a year avoiding musicals entirely. Finally, as Busby Berkeley and Charlotte Greenwood were finishing up Palmy Days in the late summer of 1931, MGM engaged them and proceeded with Flying High. The show had been another DeSylva, Brown and Henderson item keyed to a current fad – her, stunt flying – and its ramshackle book and mild score played second fiddle to Lahr’s antics. Metro hands reworked the script, replaced all but the title song, and placed Greenwood in the role played on Broadway by her precise physical opposite, Kate Smith. Under director Charles Reisner it remained a Lahr show, no question about it, with much of the hubbub circling around his screwy “aerocopter” invention. Between the star and Berkeley’s two big numbers, Flying High was well reviewed when it opened in December – but, even with a budget far less than the [Eddie] Cantor films [that preceded it], it lost a great deal of money. This was mainly due, one way or another, to Lahr. Apart from one Vitaphone short he was unknown to the larger film-going public, and his technique could seem overpowering to unaccustomed eyes and ears. Incontestably superior to Cantor as a clown, he lacked his rival’s camera savvy, for a style formed from bluster somehow transferred to movies less well than one based on high-strung tics. Perhaps it was true, as later stated, that Lahr had to wait for a nonhuman role – the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz – to find the proper channel onto film. In Flying High, solo and in conjunction with Greenwood or Charles Winninger, he’s performing to the balcony, his reactions and takes broad enough for a truck to drive through. Busby Berkeley, on the other hand, seemed to be growing more cinematic. Deprived of the Goldwyn vulgarity and some of the Goldwyn budget, he started to explore other tricks, as in “Happy Landing,” where he paid tribute to aviation by having the chorus form the words “Byrd” and “Lindy” for the benefit of the overhead camera. In contrast to Reisner, whose direction of Flying High maintained the stiff artificiality of earlier MGM musicals, Berkeley was clearly pushing for mobility and composition, and his work comprises Flying High’s main significance.” (Richard Barrios). Small tears to the spine and chipped at the wrapper edges, else a very good copy.

Originally titled: Strictly Dynamite. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1942. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 4, 1942 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 1, 1942]. Screenplay written by Robert Ellis, Helen Logan and Lynn Starling, based on a story by Kenneth Earl and Fidel LaBarba. Songs in the production include: “Except With You”; “Are You Kiddin’”; “I’m Still Crazy For You”; “Land On Your Feet”; “I Heard The Birdies Sing”; and “I’ll Be Marching To A Love Song” (all with music by Ralph Rainger and lyrics by Leo Robin). Produced by William LeBaron and directed by Gregory Ratoff, the movie stars John Payne, Betty Grable, Victor Mature, Jane Wyman, James Gleason and Phil Silvers. “Victor Mature plays an arrogant champion boxer who opts for an acting career on Broadway. He falls in love with his co-star Betty Grable, who’s secretly married to actor John Payne. Unwilling to make public her marriage lest it adversely affect her career, Grable is unsuccessful in fending off Mature’s advance, which causes her hubby’s blood to boil. As it happens, Payne is also in the show, cast as Mature’s sparring partner, and it is within the bounds of this role that he gets his revenge on the pushy pugilist. With the three leading actors playing for laughs, one wonders why Twentieth Century-Fox put Phil Silvers in the picture.” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1943. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 13, 1943 [the movie’s U.S. release date was March 17, 1944]. Screenplay written by Robert Ellis, Helen Logan and Snag Werris, based on a story by Carole Landis, Fred Niblo Jr. and Froma Sand. Songs in the production include “How Blue The Night”, “How Many Times Do I Have To Tell You?” and “Crazy Me” (all with music by Jimmy McHugh and lyrics by Harold Adamson); “I, Yi, Yi, Yi, Yi (I Like You Very Much)” and “You’ll Never Know” (both with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “(If You Can’t Sing It) You’ll Have To Swing It” (written by Sam Coslow); “Cuddle Up A Little Closer” (music by Karl Hoschna and lyrics by Otto A. Harbach); “The Champ” (written by Sonny Burke and Jimmy Dorsey); “Ohio” (music by Jimmy McHugh); “You Send Me” (music by Jimmy McHugh and lyrics by Harold Adamson); “No Love, No Nothin’” (music by Harry Warren); and “The Caisson Song” (written by Edmund L. Gruber. Produced by Irving Starr and directed by William A. Seiter, the movie stars Kay Francis, Carole Landis, Martha Raye, Mitzi Mayfair, Jimmy Dorsey, John Harvey, Phil Silvers, Dick Haymes, Alice Faye, Betty Grable, Carmen Miranda and George Jessel. “[Four Jills In A Jeep] is a fantasy version of the real-life adventures of Kay Francis, Carole Landis, Martha Raye, and Mitzi Mayfair, who served together as the first all-female volunteer troupe for the USO. Here, the four stars play themselves, more or less, as they travel from the States to England to the frontlines of Africa, meeting up with famous guest stars, falling in love with soldiers (just as depicted here, Landis really did marry an officer she met on the tour), and even helping out as nurses when necessary. While it’s a slight, overly-cleaned-up reworking of the truth, Jills is also fine entertainment, with numerous musical interludes, a scene-stealing supporting role by Phil Silvers (and it’s tough to steal a scene from Martha Raye!), and some honest touches that highlight the sacrifice of the USO volunteers and the soldiers they visited. Instead of overplaying the girls-as-nurses segment, the film quietly finds the softer humanity of the moment. As such, Jills can be seen as a lovely testament to the hard work of the USO. Fans of WWII-era showbiz will get a kick out of seeing filmed re-enactments of “Command Performance” radio programs, which were produced to entertain the troops with their string of guest stars, musical numbers, and comedy skits. In Jills, the movie takes several breaks to return to the soundstage; this is where Faye comes in, singing “You’ll Never Know” for the boys. As a storytelling device, it’s kind of a cheat – Faye can be billed as a guest star without ever actually appearing in the story – but we don’t mind, since these musical cutaways work so well. Other guests include Carmen Miranda and Betty Grable, while Jimmy Dorsey and His Orchestra could be found alongside the USO quartet on their tour. But the real reason to catch this one is the four stars, each getting her own centerpiece, each providing big entertainment, just like they did on tour.” (David Cornelius). A very good copy or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1951. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 4, 1951 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 13, 1953]. Screenplay written by Isobel Lennart, based on a story by Leslie Bush-Fekete and Mary Helen Fay. Songs in the production include: “If I Love You A Mountain”; “I’m Mad About The Girl Next Door”; “We Girls Of The Chorus”; “You (Ho Hum-Ho Hum)”; “A Quiet Little Place In The Country”; “I’d Rather Have A Pal Than A Gal – Anytime”; “You’re Doin’ All Right”; and “Nowhere Guy.” Produced by Robert Bassler and directed by Robert Sale, the movie stars Dan Dailey, June Haver, Dennis Day, Billy Gray, Cara Williams, Natalie Schafer, Clinton Sundberg, Hayden Rorke and Mary Jane Saunders. “This lightweight Twentieth Century-Fox Technicolor musical stars Dan Dailey as Bill Carter, a widowed comic strip illustrator and June Haver as Jeannie, the title character, a glamorous Broadway star. When next-door-neighbors Bill and Jeannie fall in love, Bill’s son Joe (Billy Gray) seethes with resentment. Fortunately, Joe’s schoolmate (and erstwhile sweetheart) Kitty (Mary Jane Saunders) convinces the boy that the world would be a sorry place without couples, using Noah’s Ark as an example. This provides the cue for an extended animated cartoon sequence, courtesy of UPA Studios (then under contract to Columbia: Fox’s house cartoonists at Terrytoons weren’t quite up to the assignment). Naturally, the film finds time for a few engaging song-and-dance interludes, performed by Dailey and Haver. What really makes The Girl Next Door click is the unforced camaraderie between Dan Dailey and little Billy Gray.” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: Off to Buffalo. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1947. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 21, 1947 [the movie’s U.S. release date was June 8, 1948]. Screenplay written by Samuel Hoffenstein and Elizabeth Reinhardt, based on a story by John Klempner. Songs in the production include: “Linger Awhile” (written by Vincent Rose); “Whispering” (music by John Schonberger); “Give My Regards To Broadway” (music and lyrics by George M. Cohan); “Albert the Great” (music and lyrics by Mack Gordon Charles Henderson); “Let A Smile Be Your Umbrella On A Rainy Day” (music by Sammy Fain and lyrics by Irving Kahal Francis Wheeler); “When Francis Dances With Me” (music by Solly Violinsky and lyrics by Benny Ryan); and “Where Did You Get That Hat?” (music and lyrics by Joseph Sullivan). Produced by Walter Morosco and directed by Lloyd Bacon, the movie stars Dan Dailey, Charles Winninger, Nancy Guild, Charles Ruggles, Fay Bainter, Georgia Caine, Barbara Lawrence, Jane Nigh, Charles Russell, Sig Ruman, Howard Freeman and Herbert Anderson. “Although it is often overlooked when discussing great musicals of the screen’s golden age, Give My Regards To Broadway is a superior piece of tuneful entertainment. Granted, it’s another backstage tale and features many of the clichés associated with that genre. But it also has its share of surprising moments, the most notable being that it basically goes against the backstage grain and says that the show doesn’t have to go on. The ultimate point of Regards – that sometimes a man has to give up his dreams, move on with his life and let others move on with theirs – is also something unusual for the time and the genre. Regards is also unusual in that it’s a “small” musical. It has its numbers, but they’re not Busby Berkeley-sized; it’s a more intimate, delicate musical, despite the razz-ma-tazz that it promotes. It’s true that the screenplay doesn’t always fulfill its promise, going for some easy sentiment instead of genuine emotion, but most viewers will forgive it these lapses. Regards is fortunate to have Lloyd Bacon directing, providing a sure, firm hand, and is even more fortunate to have its cast. Dan Dailey turns in one of his finest performances, dancing up a storm, vocalizing with ease, handling corny comedy with aplomb and making the most of his dramatic moments. Equally as good is Charles Winninger, whose rapport with Dailey is invaluable. There’s also fine support from Fay Bainter, Charlie Ruggles and the beautiful Barbara Lawrence. Regards has flaws but all in all is a small little treasure.” (Craig Butler). A very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1954. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY,’ ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated March 31, 1954 with inserted revision pages dated as late as June 30, 1954 [the movie’s U.S. release date was March 24, 1955]. Screenplay written by Helen Deutsch. Songs in the production include” “Take My Love” (music by Bronislau Kaper and lyrics by Helen Deutsch); and “Kitchen Ballet” and “Tehara Ballet” (both with music by Bronislau Kaper). Produced by Edwin H. Knopf and directed by Charles Waters, the movie stars Leslie Caron, Michael Wilding, Keenan Wynn, Estelle Winwood, Elsa Lanchester, Barry Jones, Amanda Blake, Lisa Daniels, Lurene Tuttle and Liliane Montevecchi. “MGM’s The Glass Slipper (1955), a charming retelling of the Cinderella story, worked variations on the much-loved fairy tale. As played by the elfin Leslie Caron, Cinderella is an ugly duckling while her stepsisters (Amanda Blake and Lisa Daniels) are beautiful and talented in addition to being selfish. The stepmother is Elsa Lanchester, who is more droll than cruel. The even more eccentric Estelle Winwood is a godmother who seems less a magical fairy than a character out of Lewis Carroll – particularly the Duchess in Alice in Wonderland. In keeping with developing psychological theories of the 1950s, poor little Ella (as explained in off-camera narration by an uncredited Walter Pidgeon) suffers from feelings of rejection that may have a lasting effect upon her psyche unless she soon finds love and acceptance. Eventually providing both, of course, is the suave Prince Charming – in the unlikely person of Michael Wilding, who was, in real life, then married to MGM’s reigning glamour queen, Elizabeth Taylor. Wilding reportedly disliked having to prance about in white tights, and several critics pointed out that his discomfort was evident on the screen. The Glass Slipper was the follow-up to the enormously popular Caron vehicle Lili (1953), which had won its star a Best Actress Oscar nomination and boasted the same distinguished list of collaborators: screenwriter Helen Deutsch, producer Edwin Knopf, director Charles Walters and composer Bronislau Kaper. This time choreographer Roland Petit and the Ballet de Paris were added to the mix, allowing Caron to display her impressive gifts as a dancer in such critically praised numbers as the “Kitchen Ballet” and the “Tehara Ballet.”” (Roger Fristoe). A near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1951. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 16, 1951 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 1, 1951]. Screenplay written by Walter Bullock, Gladys Lehman and Charles O’Neal, based on a story by Albert Lewis, Arthur Lewis and Edward Thompson. Songs in the production include: “California Moon” (music by Joe Cooper and lyrics by George Jessel and Samuel Lerner); “Never” (music by Lionel Newman and lyrics by Eliot Daniel); “Sunday Morning” (music by Ken Darby and lyrics by Ken Darby and Eliot Daniel); “Kiss Me Quick And Go” (music by Frederick Buckley and lyrics by Silas Sexton Steel); “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” (lyrics by Patrick Gilmore); “Oh, Dem Golden Slippers” and “Carry Me Back To Old Virginny” (music and lyrics by James Allen Beard); “San Francisco” (music by Bronislau Kaper and lyrics by Gus Kahn); and “Beautiful Dreamer” (music and lyrics by James Allen Beard). Produced by George Jessel and directed by Lloyd Bacon, the movie stars Mitzi Gaynor, Dale Robertson, Dennis Day, James Barton, Una Merkel, Raymond Walburn, Gene Sheldon and Carmen D’Antonio. “Golden Girl is the life story (sort of) of legendary 19th-century American entertainer Lotta Crabtree. The daughter of a luckless gambler (James Barton), young Lotta (Mitzi Gaynor) supports herself and her dad by singing and dancing in mining camps during the California Gold Rush of 1849. She carries on her activities into Indian territory, where she saves her scalp by winning over her Native American audiences. During the Civil War, Lotta falls in love with a dashing Confederate spy (Dale Robertson), with whom she is briefly reunited in San Francisco before his inevitable demise. The finale is one of those “smiling through the tears” contrivances that always worked so well in musical films. Golden Girl was produced for Twentieth Century-Fox by entertainer George Jessel.” (Hal Erickson). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (Lionel Newman and Eliot Daniel for the song “Never”). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1941. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated January 13, 1941 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 9, 1941]. Screenplay written by Edwin Blum, Robert Ellis, Don Ettlinger and Helen Logan. Songs in the production include: “The Great American Broadcast”; “I Take To You”; “It’s All In A Lifetime”; “I’ve Got A Bone To Pick With You”; “Long Ago Last Night”; “Run, Little Raindrop, Run”; “Where You Are”; “Chesterstrikes”; and “Chapman’s Cheerful Cheese” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon). Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Archie Mayo, the movie stars Alice Faye, John Payne, Jack Oakie, Cesar Romero, James Newill, Charles Fuqua, Hoppy Jones, Bill Kenny, Deek Watson, Fayard Nicholas and Harold Nicholas. “For The Great American Broadcast, Alice Faye gets mixed up in a love triangle while she skyrockets to fame in the post-WWI pioneer days of radio – this time as fictional songstress Vicki Adams. Her co-stars, Jack Oakie and John Payne, also starred with Faye in Tin Pan Alley, a hit musical about the early days of popular music; producer Darryl F. Zanuck felt the formula of Hollywood Cavalcade gelled well with the cast of Tin Pan Alley, so he brought the trio back for yet another go at essentially the same story. Chuck Hadley (Oakie) meets Rix Martin (Payne), and the big galoot introduces the dashing young pilot to his homemade radio kit. Chuck and gal pal Vicki spend their time entertaining anybody willing to listen, which gives Rix (what a name!) a string of ideas: a station devoted to full-time entertainment programs, a big event to raise awareness of the potential of radio, and eventually a coast-to-coast network of stations broadcasting the same programs nationwide. The threesome quickly rise to the top, thanks mainly to their idea to broadcast the 1919 Dempsey-Willard championship bout (a key moment in the real-life evolution of radio and a clever inclusion here; archival footage of the fight is mixed in with the action). But Rix being dreamier than Chuck, it’s no surprise that Vicki winds up falling for the handsome fella; Chuck takes it all in stride, especially considering his new wealth. Somewhere in the middle of all this, Cesar Romero keeps popping up as a scoundrel financier. It’s all big fun, especially those musical numbers, which grow bigger and bigger as the characters find more success. Most memorable here are two songs by the Ink Spots (one is capped off by a tap dance wowzer by the Nicholas Brothers), some vaudeville-inspired comic routines featuring the Wiere Brothers, and, early in the picture, a set piece involving Oakie, an opera sextet, and a rainstorm. The plot falls completely apart in the second half as the screenplay struggles to find a way to separate its star couple. The eventual solution is to have Rix become upset that Vicki borrowed money to keep their now-struggling station going; humiliated, he bolts off to South America. The final act involves Chuck’s coast-to-coast entertainment spectacular rigged as a way of tricking Rix back into Vicki’s arms. It barely works, plot-wise, although the chemistry of the three leads is so sharp that we grant the story much forgiveness.” (David Cornelius). A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: The Life of Caruso. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1950. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘COMPLETE.’ This script is dated November 26, 1949 with inserted revision pages dated as late as February 18, 1950 [the movie’s U.S. release date was April 16, 1951]. Screenplay by William Ludwig and an uncredited Sonia Levien, based on Dorothy Caruso’s biography of her husband. Songs in the production include: “The Loveliest Night Of The Year” (music by Irving Aaronson and lyrics by Paul Francis Webster); “Magnificat” (by Johann Sebastian Bach); “A Vucchella” (by Paolo Tosti and Gabriele D’Annunzio); “La Danza” (by Gioacchino Rossini); “The Consecration Scene,” “Trio Finale,” “Celeste Aida” and “In Questa Tomba,” (all from Aida by Giuseppe Verdi); “The Torture Scene” and “E Lucevan le Stelle” (both from Tosca by Giacomo Puccini); “The Villification Scene” and “Brindisi” (both from Cavalleria Rusticana by Pietro Mascagni); “Cielo e Mar” (from La Gioconda by Amilcare Ponchielli); “La Donna e Mobile” and “Quartet” (from Rigoletto by Giuseppe Verdi); “Torna a Surriento” (by Ernesto de Curtis); “Che Celida Manina” (from La Boheme by Giacomo Puccini); “Mattinata” (by Ruggero Leoncavallo); “Miserere” (from Il Trovatore by Giuseppe Verdi); “Sweethearts” (from Sweethearts by Victor Herbert and Harry B. Smith); “Recitativo” and “Vesti la Giubba” (from Pagliacci by Ruggero Leoncavallo); “Ave Maria” (by Johann Sebastian Bach and Charles Gounod); “Sextette” (from Lucia de Lammermoor by Gaetano Donizetti); “Because” (by Guy D’Hardelot); and “M’Appari” and “Finale” (from Martha by Friedrich von Flotow). Produced by Joseph Pasternak and Jesse L. Lasky and directed by Richard Thorpe, the movie stars Mario Lanza, Ann Blyth, Dorothy Kirsten, Jarmila Novotna, Richard Hageman, Carl Benton Reid, Eduard Franz, Ludwig Donath, Alan Napier, Pál Jávor, Carl Milletaire, Shepard Menken, Vincent Renno, Nestor Paiva, Peter Price, Mario Siletti, Angela Clarke, Ian Wolfe, Yvette Duguay, Argentina Brunetti, Blanche Thebom, Teresa Celli, Nicola Moscona, Giuseppe Valdengo, Lucine Amara and Marina Koshetz. “MGM created the perfect match of actor and role when it cast Mario Lanza, the singing truck driver from Philadelphia, as legendary tenor Enrico Caruso in the 1951 musical biography The Great Caruso. Not only had Caruso been Lanza’s boyhood idol (he first learned to sing listening to Caruso’s records), but like Lanza, the great opera star had risen from childhood poverty to international stardom while plagued with weight problems. Lanza had been turned down for the movies on his first try when Jack Warner, head of Warner Bros., deemed him too heavy for screen stardom. A few years later, a slimmed down Lanza scored a triumph at the Hollywood Bowl, with MGM head Louis B. Mayer in attendance. That led to an MGM contract and his film debut starring in That Midnight Kiss (1949). From the start, Lanza campaigned to get MGM to put him into Caruso’s life story. After two more hit films, the studio bought the rights from Caruso’s widow, Dorothy, and got to work on the picture that would always be associated with their new singing star – The Great Caruso. The script, from Hollywood veterans Sonia Levien and William Ludwig, changed a lot of history, conveniently forgetting that Caruso was married twice and already had grown children when he met second wife Dorothy. But they also offered opportunities for scenes from seven operas, a feat that helped musical director Johnny Green and conductor Peter Herman Adler win an Oscar nomination. Here, too, however, they played with the truth, focusing on better-known pieces and overlooking Caruso’s two favorite operas, La Juive and The Peal Fishers. As if playing an operatic legend on-screen weren’t enough, off-screen Lanza displayed enough temperament for a season-full of Met stars. His weight yo-yoed throughout the production. Costumes that fit properly on Friday, had to be rebuilt on Monday to accommodate weekend-long binges. He quarreled with everyone and refused to sing the film’s one original song, “The Loveliest Night of the Year.” Co-star Ann Blyth got to sing it instead. But when it became a hit, Lanza finally agreed to record it. The Great Caruso was the hit of Lanza’s film career, but it would also prove to be his last MGM film. He was scheduled to star in The Student Prince, but his weight and temperament led the studio to fire him after the soundtrack had been recorded. In his place they hired the non-singing but decidedly thinner and more accommodating Edmund Purdom, who lip-synched the songs to Lanza’s vocals. Lanza would make only one more Hollywood film and two in Europe before his weight problems led to his death from heart trouble at the early age of 38.” (Frank Miller). The movie won an Academy Award in the category of Best Sound, Recording (Douglas Shearer) and was nominated in the categories of Best Costume Design, Color (Helen Rose and Gile Steele) and Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Peter Herman Adler and Johnny Green). The movie was also nominated for a Directors Guild of America Award in the category of Outstanding Directorial Achievement in Motion Pictures (Richard Thorpe) and a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (Sonya Levien and William Ludwig). A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: The Life of Caruso. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1950. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT’ (three times), ‘VAULT COPY’ (twice), and ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ (once) on the front wrapper. This script is dated May 3, 1950 with inserted revision pages dated as late as June 2, 1950. Draft script (No. 33) dated and stamped with the original title pf “The Life of Caruso” in manual type, with a holograph ink correction reading “The Great Caruso” just above it on the front wrapper. Light dampstaining along the edges, else a very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1943. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 19, 1943 [the movie’s U.S. release date was September 27, 1944]. Screenplay written by Earl Baldwin and Walter Bullock, adapted by Michael Fessier and Ernest Pagano from a story by Frederick Hazlitt Brennan. Songs in the production include: “I’m Just Wild About Harry” (music by Eubie Blake and lyrics by Noble Sissle); “Swingin’ Down The Lane” (music by Isham Jones and lyrics by Gus Kahn); “When You Wore A Tulip And I Wore A Big Red Rose” (music by Percy Wenrich and lyrics by Jack Mahoney); “This Is Our Lucky Day” (written by Nacio Herb Brown); “It’s All For Art’s Sake” (music by Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics by Leo Robin); “I Like To Be Loved By You” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Whispering” (music by John Schonberger and lyrics by Malvin Schonberger); “It Goes To Your Toes” and “Give Me A Band And A Bandana” (both with music by Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics by Leo Robin); “Ain’t We Got Fun” (music by Richard A. Whiting); “It Had To Be You” (music by Isham Jones); “Carolina In The Morning” (music by Walter Donaldson); “Baby Face” (music by Harry Akst); “Toot, Toot, Tootsie (Goo’ Bye!)” (music by Dan Russo and Ernie Erdman and lyrics by Gus Kahn); and “Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone” (music by Sam H. Slept and lyrics by Sidney Clare). Produced by William LeBaron and directed by Walter Lang, the cast included Carmen Miranda, Don Ameche, William Bendix, Vivian Blaine, Felix Bressart, Tony De Marco, Sally De Marco, The Revuers, B.S. Pully, The Four Step Brothers and Emil Rameau. ““Technicolor is the picture’s chief asset,” said The New York Times of Greenwich Village, a Fox musical from a decidedly lesser tier than the studio’s great “A” productions, but still worth a look for the presence of Carmen Miranda and, yes, Leon Shamroy’s Technicolor cinematography. The film tells the mild tale of a midwestern composer (Don Ameche) who comes to the Bohemian world of 1922 Greenwich Village and falls in with a set of splashy nightclub entertainers. The club owner (William Bendix) wants to mount a big uptown show, his singer (Vivian Blaine) wants to star in it, and Ameche wants his score to be used. The Times review complained that the cast was hardly formidable enough to sustain a movie with such thin plot and characters, and while that may be true, it’s still interesting to see how Fox tried to launch Vivian Blaine as a big new star, and it’s unique (to say the least!) to see William Bendix sing and dance. Bendix had recently become a star supporting player and had already perfected a screen persona of a lovable doofus. Time magazine’s review of Greenwich Village marveled at how the persona was just that; in real life, apparently, Bendix was cultivated and mannered. “Bendix is probably the world’s highest-paid professional ignoramus,” said Time. “As such he now rates star billing at his studio and makes more money than the President of the U.S.” Vivian Blaine was touted as a newcomer by the Fox publicity machine, but in truth she had already been credited in four previous films, including Jitterbugs (1943), in which she played a significant role opposite Laurel and Hardy. She went on to do more movies and television but she never became a movie star. She will instead best be remembered for her stage work, especially as the original “Miss Adelaide” in the stage and screen versions of Guys and Dolls (1950 stage, 1955 film). Carmen Miranda, on the other hand, who here sings “Give Me a Band and a Bandana,” was still at the peak of her popularity, with Greenwich Village coming hot on the heels of her best and most famous film, The Gang’s All Here (1943). Film historian Jeanine Basinger has written astutely that the Brazilian bombshell “wasn’t a real movie star, but someone who did star turns in movies... She was an important escape fantasy of WWII.” (from The Star Machine, Knopf). Known for her insanely over-the-top costumes, elaborate, fruit-laden headpieces, and hugely energetic singing and dancing, everything about Carmen Miranda was always exaggerated to a delightful level.” (Jeremy Arnold). A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: Hot and Happy. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 14, 1937 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 21, 1938]. Screenplay written by Boris Ingster and Milton Sperling. Songs in the production includes: “Hot And Happy”; “A Gypsy Told Me”; “You Are The Music To The Words In My Heart”; and “Yonny And His Oompah” (all by Samuel Pokrass and Jack Yellen) ; “You Appeal To Me” (by Walter Bullock and Harold Spina)’ and “War Dance For Wooden Indians” (by Raymond Scott). Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Roy Del Ruth, the movie stars Sonja Henie, Don Ameche, Jean Hersholt, Ethel Merman, Cesar Romero, Billy Gilbert and Wally Vernon. “Today we would never think that a figure skating idol could be one of the largest grossing money makers in Hollywood, starring in many large productions for a major studio, but this is just what happened to Sonja Henie. Henie was already a household name, being the Olympic gold medal champion in the 1928, 1932, and 1936 winter games making her an international figure skating star. A desire to be in motion pictures from a young age, ultimately led to her being signed by Twentieth Century-Fox studio head, Darryl F. Zanuck, to appear in films for the company. Her first film, One In A Million (1936) was a success and she would go on to appear in nine more films for the corporation. 1938’s Happy Landing is kind of a screwball-comedy-on-ice with Cesar Romero as the big band leader (and ultimate cad) Duke Sargent, Don Ameche plays the friend/manager Jimmy Hall and Ethel Merman rounds out the cast as Sargent’s nutty and overbearing love/hate interest, Flo Kelly. The film opens as Jimmy Hall is getting ready to fly Duke Sargent over to Paris for a musical engagement. The plane they are flying in goes off course and ends up landing in Norway where the forever skirt-chasing Sargent meets Trudy Ericksen (Henie). Sargent, who seems to only be inspired to write music while wooing women, writes a song for Trudy and makes her believe that he is in love with her. Jimmy and Trudy go to a town celebration and a Norwegian custom (made up for the film of course) states that if you dance with a girl twice then you are engaged to her!! Duke’s friend Jimmy finds out about the custom and informs his clueless friend that he is about to be hitched so they both flee Norway for Paris leaving the heartbroken Trudy behind. Eventually Jimmy and Duke return to New York City and the lovelorn Trudy travels to the metropolis to win Duke back but he’s involved with his old flame, Flo Kelly, and rejects Trudy. This leads to Jimmy spending more time with Trudy and when they decide to go skating in Central Park, Jimmy sees her real talent as an ice skater and decides to promote her talent and her career takes off. Now as a skating star, Trudy realizes that she loves Jimmy and he adores her, but through a series of misunderstandings Trudy believes that Jimmy actually is in love with Flo! Of course, in true Hollywood fashion, it all works out in the end and everyone lives happily ever after. El Brendel appears in just one short section of the film. He plays Yonnie, the bandleader in Central Park who sings the comedic tune “Yonnie and His Oompa” which was written by Samuel Pokrass and Jack Yellen (Yellen wrote many tunes including “Happy Days Are Here Again” and “Ain’t She Sweet” as well as writing songs for many movies including another of Brendel’s 1938 films, Little Miss Broadway with Shirley Temple).” (Charles Bates). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1943. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 13, 1942 [the movie’s U.S. release date was March 11, 1943]. Screenplay written by Robert Ellis, Helen Logan and Richard Macaulay. Songs in the production include: “You’ll Never Know” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Hello, Frisco!” (music by Louis A. Hirsch and lyrics by Gene Buck); “Ragtime Cowboy Joe” (music by Maurice Abrahams and Lewis F. Muir and lyrics by Grant Clarke); “The Dance Of The Grizzly Bear” (music by George Botsford and lyrics by Irving Berlin); “Has Anybody Here Seen Kelly?” (music by C.W. Murphy and lyrics by Will Letters with American lyrics by William Hargreaves); “A Bird In A Gilded Cage” (music by Harry von Tilzer and lyrics by Arthur J. Lamb); “It’s Tulip Time In Holland” (music by Richard A. Whiting and lyrics by Dave Radford); “Sweet Cider Time, When You Were Mine” (music by Percy Wenrich and lyrics by Joseph McCarthy); “Hello! Ma Baby” (music by Joseph E. Howard and lyrics Ida Emerson); “San Francisco” (music by Bronislau Kaper and Walter Jurmann and lyrics by Gus Kahn); “Yip-I-Addy-I-Ay” (music by John H. Flynn and lyrics by Will D. Cobb); “On San Francisco Bay” (music by Gertrude Hoffman and lyrics by Vincent Bryan); “By The Watermelon Vine (Lindy Lou)” (written by Thomas S. Allen); “Yield Not To Temptation” (written by Horatio R. Palmer); “In The Shade Of The Old Apple Tree” (music by Egbert Van Alstyne and lyrics by Harry Williams); “They Always Pick On Me” (music by Harry von Tilzer and lyrics by Stanley Murphy); “Bedelia” (music by Jean Schwartz and lyrics by William Jerome); “By The Light Of The Silvery Moon” (music by Gus Edwards and lyrics by Edward Madden); “Gee, But It’s Great To Meet A Friend From Your Home Town” (music by James McGavisk and lyrics by William Tracey; and “Strike Up The Band (Here Comes A Sailor).” Produced by Milton Sperling and directed by H. Bruce Humberstone, the movie stars Alice Faye, John Payne, Jack Oakie, Lynn Bari, Laird Cregar, June Havoc, Ward Bond, Aubrey Mather and John Archer. “In 1942, Alice Faye stepped away from Hollywood to raise her newborn daughter. The following year, Hello, Frisco, Hello provided her with a grand return to the silver screen, once more pairing her with John Payne and Jack Oakie. The movie was a hit both critically and commercially, and its Oscar-winning song, “You’ll Never Know,” would quickly become her signature tune. But by this point, the repetitive nature of Faye’s stories has broken down, and Frisco, while charming in spots, is most certainly the weakest of this bunch and more or less a misfire on all counts. Once again, a bygone era sets the stage for a rise-and-fall melodrama; it doesn’t just recycle plot points from earlier Faye pictures, it’s an all-out remake of her 1936 effort King of Burlesque, although at this point, it’s tough to tell which movies are remakes and which ones just refurbish tired formula. This time around, the charm is missing, the conflict is bland, and the sluggish story feels like a chore to get through. Johnny Cornell (Payne) runs a song-and-dance troupe in post-earthquake San Francisco. They’re a lowly ragtag bunch finding work in the city’s seedy Barbary Coast district – Trudy Evans (Faye) provides her lovely voice, while Dan Daley (Oakie) and Beulah Clancy (June Havoc) deliver broad slapstick. The quartet soon find themselves fired (for being too entertaining!), which motivates Johnny to buy his own music hall. Then another, and another, and soon, he’s in with the upper crust, marrying socialite Bernice Croft (Lynn Bari) and rubbing elbows with the upscale Nob Hill crowd. Trudy, meanwhile, becomes a star all her own, and when she hears of Johnny’s eventual downfall, she rushes home to reunuite the old gang. Once more, the musical numbers are lovely, especially Faye’s take on “You’ll Never Know” as well as the two versions of the title song that open and close the film. But the story itself is a flat-out dud. Payne’s Johnny is a limp noodle of a lead character, and we never come to care about his rise or fall. The film’s themes are questionable – while it’s supposed to play out as “poor people have just as much dignity and vigor as you rich folk,” Johnny’s eventual return to the Barbary Coast plays more as “don’t get too successful, and stay in your own social class, or else you won’t be happy.” The whole thing looks dandy, with grand sets and extravagant costumes and lush Technicolor imagery. There’s a great admiration for the fashions of yesteryear. But it all adds up to a shallow Hollywood pageant, the kind where the studio spends too much time making its stars look good and not enough time making the story work.” (David Cornelius). The movie won an Academy Award for Best Music, Original Song (Harry Warren and Mack Gordon for “You’ll Never Know”), and was also nominated in the category of Best Cinematography, Color (Charles G. Clarke and Allen M. Davey). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1943. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 28, 1942. A very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1933. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. ‘VAULT COPY’ (twice) and ‘COMPLETE’ (once) have been stamped on the front wrapper, with the following holograph pencil notations in an unknown hand: “File,” “Shooting Script” and “matches workbk.” The script is dated August 1, 1933 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 24, 1934]. Screenplay written by Richy Craig Jr., Howard Dietz, Herbert Fields, Edmund Goulding, Arthur Kober and Henry Myers, based on a story by Edgar Allan Woolf. Songs in the production include: “Hollywood Party,” “Hello,” and “Reincarnation” (all music by Richard Rodgers with lyrics by Lorenz Hart); “I’m Feeling High” (music by Walter Donaldson and lyrics by Howard Dietz); “I’ve Had My Moments” (music by Walter Donaldson and lyrics by Gus Kahn); “The Hot Chocolate Soldiers” (music by Herb Nacio Brown and lyrics by Arthur Freed); and “Inka, Dinka Doo” (music by Jimmy Durante and lyrics by Ben Ryan). Produced by Howard Dietz, Louis Lewyn and Harry Rapf, and directed by Roy Rowland (with an uncredited Richard Boleslawski, Allan Dwan, Edmund Goulding, Russell Mack, Charles Reisner, George Stevens and Sam Wood), the movie stars Stan Laurel, Oliver Hardy, Jimmy Durante, Jack Pearl, Polly Moran, Charles Butterworth, Eddie Quillan, June Clyde, Mickey Mouse, Lupe Velez, George Givot, Richard Carle and Tom Kennedy. “The inimitable Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy make guest appearances as owners of a lion farm in Hollywood Party, a spoof of Johnny Weissmuller’s Tarzan movies with Jimmy Durante cast as an unlikely jungle-film star billed as ‘The Great Schnarzan.’ The problem, it seems, is that box office is falling off for Schnarzan’s movies because the lions that play supporting roles have grown lethargic. Schnarzan plots to buy some livelier lions from Baron Munchausen (Jack Pearl, who played the role on radio) and throws a lavish party in the Baron’s honor in hopes of getting a bargain. Lupe Velez, then Weissmuller’s wife, plays Schnarzan’s troublesome ex-girlfriend, kidding Maureen O’Sullivan’s “Jane” by showing up at the party in an ultra-revealing costume. (O’Sullivan was notorious at the time for her brief attire in the Tarzan series.) Robert Young pops in as himself. Laurel and Hardy’s appearance involves an egg-breaking sequence performed with Lupe that is considered a classic. Also contributing to the fun are an unbilled bit by the Three Stooges as autograph seekers and a Technicolor cartoon spoof from Walt Disney, introduced by Mickey Mouse, titled The Hot Chocolate Soldiers. Despite it’s Disney credentials, the latter cartoon is a wild animated fantasy full of the most over-the-top phallic imagery from gingerbread men ramming the walls of a candy castle with chocolate logs to exploding custard eclairs to an orgiastic climax where everything gets covered in hot melted chocolate. Yikes! How did this get past the censors? Although only 70 minutes long, Hollywood Party also includes eight musical numbers. Among them are the title tune written by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart and performed at the film’s opening by Frances Williams and a chorus of scantily clad telephone operators; “Hello,” another Rodgers and Hart tune performed by Durante and Pearl with the chorus; and Durante’s signature “Inka Dinka Doo.” Originally planned as an all-star musical to be called The Hollywood Revue of 1933, Hollywood Party went through seven writers (five uncredited) and five directors (none credited) as it was refashioned into a vehicle for Durante. The final director, silent-screen pioneer Alan Dwan, considered the film’s goofy plot and disparate elements “a nightmare” and was inspired to use a trick ending. In a gimmick famously repeated many years later on TV’s Dallas, Durante is awakened (by his real-life wife) to realize he has dreamed the whole outrageous thing!” (Roger Fristoe). A very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1955. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated January 11, 1955 [the movie’s U.S. release date was July 22, 1955]. Screenplay written by Nunnally Johnson, based on the play She Loves Me Not by Howard Lindsay and the novel She Loves Me Not by Edward Hope, and the play Sleep It Off by Lyford Moore and Harlan Thompson. Songs in the production include: “How To Be Very, Very Popular” (music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Sammy Cahn); “Bunny Hop” (written by Ray Anthony and Leonard Auletti); “The Bristol Bell Song” (music by Lionel Newman and lyrics by Ken Darby); “The Whiffenproof Song” (music by Tod B. Galloway and lyrics by Meade Minnigerode and George S. Pomeroy); and “Shake, Rattle And Roll” (written by Charles F. Calhoun). Produced and directed by Nunnally Johnson, the movie stars Betty Grable, Sheree North, Robert Cummings, Charles Coburn, Tommy Noonan, Orson Bean, Fred Clark, Charlotte Austin, Alice Pearce and Rhys Williams. “Betty Grable’s final film was a remake of the 1934 Bing Crosby-Miriam Hopkins musical-comedy She Loves Me Not, which in turn was based on a play by Howard Lindsay. Betty and Sheree North star as a couple of striptease “artistes” who have the bad luck to witness a murder. Hoping to evade the killer, the girls hide out in a small college town, where they immediately win the hearts of the male frat brothers. One of these is overaged undergrad Robert Cummings, who falls for Betty, while Sheree settles for not-terribly-bright Orson Bean. A subplot concerns the unending get-rich-quick schemes of college president Charles Coburn. Before the story can be resolved, both Betty and Sheree are placed under hypnosis, with hilarious results. It could not have rested well with Betty Grable that Sheree North stole the show in How To Be Very, Very Popular – especially with her energetic rendition of “Shake, Rattle And Roll” – but Betty was on the verge of retiring anyway, so what the heck?” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1950. Second Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated February 28, 1950 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 2, 1950]. Screenplay written by Mary Loos and Richard Sale, based on a story by Robert Ellis, Pamela Harris and Helen Logan. Songs in the production include: “There Will Never Be Another You” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “It’s Been A Long, Long Time” (music by Jule Styne and lyric by Sammy Cahn); “I’ll Get By” (music by Fred E. Ahlert and lyrics by Roy Turk); “Deep In The Heart Of Texas” (music by Don Swander and lyrics by June Hershey); “I’ve Got The World On A String” (music by Harold Arlen and lyrics by Ted Koehler); “McNamara’s Band” (music by Shamus O’Connor and lyrics by John J. Stamford); “Yankee Doodle Blues” (music by George Gershwin and lyrics by Irving Caesar and Buddy G. DeSylva); “Takin’ A Chance On Love” (music by Vernon Duke and lyrics by John La Touche and Ted Fetter); “You Make Me Feel So Young” (music by Josef Myrow and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Fifth Avenue”, “Down Argentina Way”, “The More I See You”, “You Say The Sweetest Things (Baby)” and “I’ve Got A Gal In Kalamazoo” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “No Love, No Nothin’” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Leo Robin); “Stompin’ At The Savoy” (music by Benny Goodman, Chick Webb and Edgar M. Sampson and lyrics by Andy Razaf); “Once In A While” (music by Michael Edwards and lyrics by Bud Green); “I’m Making Believe” (music by James V. Monaco and lyrics by Mack Gordon); and “Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair” (written by Stephen Foster). Produced by William Perlberg and directed Richard Sale, the movie stars June Haver, William Lundigan, Gloria DeHaven, Dennis Day, Harry James, Thelma Ritter, Steve Allen, Danny Davenport and Harry Antrim. “I’ll Get By is an updated remake of the 1940 Twentieth Century-Fox musical Tin Pan Alley. William Lundigan and Dennis Day play William Spencer and Freddie Lee respectively, successful song publishers who make hits out of such numbers as “I Got A Gal In Kalamazoo”, “Deep In The Heart of Texas”, “You Make Me Feel So Young”, “There Will Never Be Another You”, and other favorites (the rights to all of these songs were conveniently held by Twentieth Century-Fox). The partnership has some hard times, especially during the feud between ASCAP and the radio networks, when only public-domain songs like “I Dream Of Jeannie” were permitted to be broadcast. Still, Spencer and Lee remain pals throughout, while the boys’ romances likewise weather the years. Steve Allen makes a rare film appearance as a wisecracking disc jockey (what a stretch!) while Harry James, Jeanne Crain, Reginald Gardiner, Victor Mature and Dan Dailey show up in uncredited cameos.” (Hal Erickson). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Lionel Newman). A very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1954. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT,’ ‘VAULT COPY’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated March 10, 1954 with inserted revision pages dated as late as May 24, 1954 [the movie’s U.S. release date was February 17, 1954]. Screenplay written by Dorothy Kingsley, based on Robert E. Sherwood’s play The Road To Rome. Songs in the production include: “If This Be Slav’ry,” “The Life Of An Elephant,” “Never Trust A Woman,” “I Had A Dream,” “This Is What I Love,” “Don’t Let This Night Get Away” and “Hannibal’s Victory March” (all with music by Burton Lane and lyrics by Harold Adamson). Produced by George Wells and directed by George Sidney, the movie stars Esther Williams, Howard Keel, Marge Champion, Gower Champion, George Sanders, Richard Haydn, William Demarest, Norma Varden, Douglass Dumbrille, Henry Corden, Michael Ansara, Martha Wentworth and John Olszewski. “Esther Williams’ long association with MGM came to an abrupt end with Jupiter’s Darling, which even she will admit was her silliest film. Based on Robert Sherwood’s satirical play The Road to Rome, the film cast as Williams as Amytis, fiancée of vacillating Roman statesman Fabius Maximus (George Sanders). When it appears as though the forces of Hannibal (Howard Keel) will conquer Rome, Amytis takes it upon herself to halt the invasion. In the process, she and Hannibal embark upon a tempestuous romance, much to the consternation of the barbarian general’s aide-de-camp Mago (William Demarest) and the bemusement of Hannibal’s official chronicler Horatio (Richard Haydn). A subplot concerns the romance between Varius (Gower Champion), who tends Hannibal’s fabled elephants, and spunky slave girl Meta (Marge Champion). Somewhere along the line Williams performs a water ballet with “living statues,” and Varius and Meta come up with a herd of pink elephants. An enormous financial failure that resulted in many of its principals being released from their contracts, Jupiter’s Darling is a curious mixture of styles and genres that just doesn’t come together – but which nonetheless provides a moderate amount of entertainment value. As in most Esther Williams vehicles, the aquatic sequences (in this instance, a living statues ballet and an underwater chase) are highlights. Seen by themselves, they’re quite impressive; unfortunately, they’re surrounded by a musical that lumbers more than it dances, unsure of exactly what it is doing and, even more so, why it is doing it. Thus, there’s a little bit of everything but not a whole lot of something. The Burton Lane-Harold Adamson score is serviceable but so-so; the screenplay has a few witty lines but not enough. The cast is generally good, although Williams and Howard Keel fail to really click; much better are George Sanders, smooth as always, and a supporting cast of reliable character actors such as Richard Haydn and William Frawley. Marge and Gower Champion aren’t given enough to do, but they work a little magic with what they have.” (Craig Butler & Hal Erickson). A near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1935. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated September 23, 1935 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 3, 1936]. This is executive producer Darryl F. Zanuck’s copy of the script, with his ‘D.Z.’ ownership initials in holograph ink on the upper front wrapper. Screenplay written by Gene Markey and Harry Tugend (with an uncredited Bartlett Cormack, Finley Peter Dunne, Philip Dunne, H.W. Hanemann, William Hurlbut, Wallace Smith and Jack Wagner), adapted by James Seymour from a story by Vina Delmar, with an original score with music by Jimmy McHugh and lyrics by Ted Koehler. Songs in the production include: “Shooting High”; “Whose Big Baby Are You?”; “Spreading Rhythm Around”; “Lovely Lady”; “I Love To Ride The Horses On A Merry-Go-Round”; and “Too Good To Be True.” Produced by Kenneth Macgowan and directed by Sidney Lanfield, the movie stars Warner Baxter, Alice Faye, Jack Oakie, Mona Barrie, Arline Judge, Dixie Dunbar, Gregory Ratoff, Herbert Mundin and Fats Waller. “Twentieth Century-Fox has cloaked the familiar outlines of a Vina Delmar plot with a cleverly written script, a handful of amiable and talented performers, some catchy melodies and a series of comparatively restrained (for Hollywood) song and dance sequences. If you are willing to overlook the antiquity of the fabric and concentrate on its trimmings, King of Burlesque may be set down as one of the screen’s more entertaining ventures in the musical comedy line. Being the saga of the rise of a burlesque impresario to the dignity (sic) of a Broadway revue producer, the new photoplay scarcely can be considered freighted with story values. Nor has Miss Delmar any right to expect gasps of astonishment from her audiences when she proceeds to show what happens to the former burlesque king when his Park Avenue bride convinces him that his revues, while profitable, are not in the best of taste. You should not have to be told, nor do we intend to mention it, that the producer’s experiments with art are quite unhappy and that, after his failure and his wife’s desertion, he regains his Broadway pre-eminence with the help of the loyal golden-haired alumna of his burlesque training school. Our advice is to overlook the story entirely and concentrate – as you probably will without being told – on the comic pursuits of Jack Oakie and Arline Judge who, until now, never have loomed very seriously as contenders for comedy crowns. Mr. Oakie’s frantic efforts to escape Miss Judge’s matrimonial intentions and the long series of brightly penned lines that the script writers have found for him are among the merriest moments of the picture. Another is the introduction of Gregory Ratoff as the penniless angel financing the burlesque king’s comeback. On the musical side, the film may be recommended for its charitable omission of involved chorus routines, overhead shots of young women waving feathered fans or the suggestion that the dance scenes were made in the Yankee Stadium. More positively, it can be endorsed for one tune called “I'm Shootin’ High” and another called “Lovely Lady” and, ultimately, for the gay dancing of tiny Dixie Dunbar and Nick Long Jr. All told, King of Burlesque is a pleasant addition to the week’s screen calendar.” (Frank S. Nugent, New York Times review, January 16, 1936). Lacking the spine with some large chips to the wrapper edges, else an about very good copy of a rare and fragile script.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1953. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is stamped ‘VAULT COPY,’ ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT,’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated February 28, 1953 with internal revised inserts dated as late as April 30, 1953 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 26, 1953]. Screenplay written by Dorothy Kingsley, based on the play by Cole Porter, Sam Spewack and Bella Spewack, adapted in turn from the play The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare. Songs in the production include: “Another Op’nin’, Another Show”; “Why Can’t You Behave?”; “Wunderbar”; “So In Love Am I”; “We Open in Venice”; “Tom, Dick or Harry”; “I’ve Come To Wive It Wealthily In Padua”; “I Hate Men”; “Were Thine That Special Face”; “I Sing of Love”; “Tarantella”; “Kiss Me, Kate”; “Too Darn Hot”; “Where Is The Life That Late I Led”; “Always True To You (In My Fashion)”; “Bianca”; “Brush Up Your Shakespeare”; “Pavanne”; and “Women Are So Simple” (all with music and lyrics by Cole Porter). Produced by Jack Cummings and directed by George Sidney, the movie stars Kathryn Grayson, Howard Keel, Ann Miller, Tommy Rall, Bobby Van, Keenan Wynn, James Whitmore, Kurt Kasznar, Bob Fosse, and Ron Randell. “A musical extravaganza featuring the witty tunes of Cole Porter, Kiss Me Kate (1953) is a remake of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew. Set behind the scenes of a spectacular Broadway production of Kiss Me Kate, this fetching musical concerns the tensions that erupt between former husband and wife Fred Graham (Howard Keel) and Lilli Vanessi (Kathryn Grayson) while performing together as Petruchio and Katherine. The combative relationship between Lilli and Fred often carries over onto the stage where they bicker and feud as enthusiastically as their fictional counterparts, Petruchio, the hunk intent on wooing, and Katherine, the maiden adamantly opposed to being wooed. Things become even more complicated when a pair of mildly bumbling, stage-struck crooks Lippy (Keenan Wynn) and Slug (James Whitmore) arrive backstage to collect on a gambling debt – and vow not to leave Lilli or Fred’s side until Fred pays up. Keel and Grayson had appeared together in a George Sidney-directed picture once before – Show Boat in 1951. Kiss Me Kate was an adaptation of a hit Broadway show by Lemuel Ayers and Arnold St. Subber which ran for more than 1,000 performances. Director Sidney reimagined the play for Hollywood with the 1950s novelty of 3-D. Unfortunately, though Kiss Me Kate was shot in both flat and 3-D versions, the rapid decline of the fad meant the film was never released in its 3-D version. So viewers were never able to experience the peculiar thrill of Lois Lane (Fred’s new love interest, played by Ann Miller) kicking her gams out at the audience or Lilli Vanessi in a shrewish temper pitching bouquets and vases at the audience, or the final close-up embrace with Katherine and Petruchio popping out at their audience, all gimmicks used to show off the 3-D techniques. But one of the better gimmicks in Kiss Me Kate is surely Cole Porter’s songs, like a smoky rendition of “Too Darn Hot” performed by a madly tap-dancing Lois (Ann Miller) in the compact Manhattan living room of her boyfriend (Fred Graham), or the uproarious, cleverly phrased number “Brush Up Your Shakespeare,” performed by gangsters Lippy and Slug. Saul Chaplin, who was nominated along with Andre Previn for Best Scoring for a Musical, called Porter’s score for the film “one of his best.” Ironically, the hit song that emerged from the film, “From This Moment On,” was a tune recycled from a Porter musical flop, Out of This World. Andre Previn had previously arranged “From This Moment On” for Woody Herman and his band, though he kept that information to himself when, during the production of Kiss Me Kate, Porter told him how much he despised “Herman’s” interpretation. “From This Moment On” was inserted in Kiss Me Kate to accommodate three dancing couples in a final number, which featured Carol Haney and Bob Fosse as one of the couples. That brief – but unforgettably sultry – two-minute dance number turned out to be responsible for launching three showbiz careers. Bob Fosse choreographed the brief Kiss Me Kate dance between Haney and himself, showing off the sharp, quirky dance style that would be seen by film audiences decades later in the semi-autobiographical film version of his life, All That Jazz (1979). Fosse’s distinctive dance styles in Kiss Me Kate caught the attention of fellow choreographer Jerry Robbins, who recommended Fosse to The Pajama Game producers Robert Griffith and Harold Prince. Fosse quickly sent for Carol Haney to appear in the show. Haney was a hit and Fosse went on to win a Tony award for his work on that Broadway smash. And when Haney sprained her ankle one evening during The Pajama Game and her understudy took her place, that small fluke determined one performer’s future in Hollywood. In The Pajama Game audience that night was Warner Brothers producer Hal Wallis, who was so impressed with understudy Shirley MacLaine’s performance in Haney’s role he arranged to put her under contract at the studio.” (Felicia Feaster). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category for Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (André Previn and Saul Chaplin). A near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1956. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY’ (twice), ‘MIMEOGRAPH FILE COPY’ (twice), and ‘COMPLETE’ (once), with a holograph notation in red pencil on the front wrapper in an unknown hand designating the script “old.” This script is dated August 24, 1956 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 3, 1957]. Screenplay written by John Patrick based on a story by Vera Caspary. Songs in the production include: “Les Girls”; “Ça C’est L’Amour”; “Ladies In Waiting”; “You’re Just Too Too!”; “Why Am I So Gone (About That Gal)?”; “The Rope Dance”; and “Be A Clown” (all with music and lyrics by Cole Porter). Produced by Sol C. Seigel and directed by George Cukor, the movie stars Gene Kelly, Mitzi Gaynor, Kay Kendall, Taina Elg, Jacques Bergerac, Leslie Phillips, Henry Daniell, Patrick Macnee, Stephen Vercoe and Philip Tonge. “Gene Kelly had long wanted to do a musical version of Idiot’s Delight, the Pulitzer Prize-winning play about a song-and-dance man touring Europe with a troupe of chorus girls. When he and producer Sol Siegel decided to adapt Vera Caspary’s original story in 1957, he had little idea that it would be his last MGM musical. And though the film featured some surprisingly serious commentary on the nature of truth, it featured some of his most inspired dance numbers. Siegel had worked with writer John Patrick and songwriter Cole Porter the year before on High Society, the musical version of The Philadelphia Story. For this film, he told the writer to not even bother reading Caspary’s story, but just to see what he could do with the basic situation. Patrick decided to tell the story in conflicting flashbacks after one former chorus girl sues another for libel. When Patrick finally met Caspary, she thanked him for making her the industry’s top-paid writer. She had gotten $80,000 for just two words – the film’s title, Les Girls. Patrick didn’t meet with Porter to discuss the songs until after the first draft was completed. Then they discussed the best places for them. Porter only asked for one change in the script. One of the leading ladies was named Samantha, and Porter protested that there was no way to rhyme it. When Patrick suggested “Lovely as a panther,” Porter threw him out of his home. During the initial casting, Cyd Charisse, Leslie Caron and Carol Haney were announced to play the three chorus girls, but by the time the film got into production all that was changed. Finnish ballerina Taina Elg, who was being groomed for big things that never really happened, was cast as the French girl. British comedienne Kay Kendall all but stole the show as the tipsy British dancer. And Mitzi Gaynor, who was dating choreographer Jack Cole at the time, played the American. The latter choice almost cost Siegel George Cukor’s services as director. Cukor had come to the project late and, according to some participants, resented not having any input on the script or casting. He decided to make a stand against Gaynor, only to be told that he could work with her or go on suspension. He stayed with the film, but focused all of his energies on the visual elements. As he often had in the past, he used fashion photographer George Hoynigen-Huene as a color consultant. They developed a washed out color scheme that captured the squalor of the low-rent musical act while still providing a rich palette for the complex story. In fact, Cukor’s concentration of the film’s look paid off. It freed Kelly to design a series of dazzling dance numbers ranging from the modern-dance parody performed with Elg to a show-stopping, seemingly improvised number with Kendall. It also brought the film its only Oscar recognition, earning a nomination for Best Art Direction and the Oscar for Orry-Kelly’s costumes.” (Frank Miller). The movie won an Academy Award in the category of Best Costume Design (Orry-Kelly) and was nominated in the categories of Best Art Direction-Set Direction (Gene Allen, William A. Horning, Richard Pefferie and Edwin B. Willis) and Best Sound, Recording (Wesley C. Miller). The movie also won a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (John Patrick). A near fine copy.

Originally titled: The Seven Souls of Clement O'Reilly. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1951. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY,’ ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT’ and ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated October 31, 1951 with inserted revision pages dated as late as November 13, 1951 [the movie’s U.S. release date was March 10, 1953]. This copy also has a second front wrapper bound in immediately following the first, on a deeper blue card stock, and with the same screenwriter credit but a different title: “The Puppet Story” (presumably an earlier working title), and with summary page stating that the script was completed on November 12, 1951. Screenplay written by Helen Deutsch based on a Paul Gallico short story “The Man Who Hated People” (which was later reworked into the novella Love of Seven Dolls). Songs in the production include: “Hi-Lili, Hi-Lo” (music by Bronislau Kaper and lyrics by Helen Deutsch). Produced by Edwin H. Knopf and directed by Charles Waters, the movie stars Leslie Caron, Mel Ferrer, Jean-Pierre Aumont, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Kurt Kasznar, Amanda Blake, Alex Gerry, Ralph Dumke, Wilton Graff and George Baxter. “Fantasy and whimsy are among the most difficult kinds of stories to translate well to film. They require the lightest of touches, or they become cloying. And they also require a very special kind of star. Leslie Caron was one of those stars, and Lili (1953) was that rare fantasy film that worked beautifully. Lili (Leslie Caron) is a sad and lonely 16-year old orphan who joins a carnival and becomes involved with the members of the troupe: Marc (Jean-Pierre Aumont), a womanizing magician; Rosalie (Zsa Zsa Gabor), his sexy assistant; and Paul (Mel Ferrer), a crippled, embittered puppeteer. Unable to reach out to Lili, Paul can only do so through his puppets. Lili, simple and innocent, responds to the puppets as if they were human friends, and pours out her heart to them. Lili is based on a 1950 magazine story by Paul Gallico, “The Man Who Hated People,” about an anti-social television puppeteer. Gallico drew his inspiration from a then-popular television show, Kukla, Fran, and Ollie, which featured the puppets of Burr Tillstrom. In 1954, the year after Lili was released, Gallico published a reworked version of this story as a novella, Love of Seven Dolls. The setting was changed to a carnival in France, but it was darker in tone than Lili. Gallico was a prolific author who began as a sports writer, worked as a war correspondent, and wrote nonfiction, children’s books, short stories, novels, and screenplays. Among the dozens of films based on his work are The Pride of the Yankees (1942), The Clock (1945), The Three Lives of Thomasina (1964), and The Poseidon Adventure (1972). Leslie Caron was a teenager dancing with Roland Petit’s ballet company in Paris when she was seen by Gene Kelly, who chose her as his co-star in An American In Paris (1951). She was signed to an MGM contract, but had not had another role worthy of her talents until Lili. Caron’s waifish charm, musical talents, and absolute conviction when acting with the puppets earned her rave reviews, and an Academy Award nomination for Best Actress. She lost to another charming waif, Audrey Hepburn, for Roman Holiday (1953). Although he had directed Caron in An American in Paris, Vincente Minnelli was not impressed by Lili, and decided against directing it. Charles Walters, a reliable veteran of such musicals as Easter Parade (1948) and Summer Stock (1950) was then recruited to helm the project. MGM had no great expectations for Lili, and it was hardly a conventional musical, in spite of a catchy title song, “Hi Lili, Hi Lo,” which became a huge hit. But the ads promised, “you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll love Lili”... and audiences did. So did the critics. The New York Times called it “a lovely and beguiling little film touched with the magic of romance and the shimmer of masquerade.” Film Daily placed Lili sixth on “Ten Best” list for 1953. Even the curmudgeonly writer H.L. Mencken, who considered movies a waste of time and rarely saw one, was persuaded to see Lili, and loved it. Along with Caron’s Best Actress nomination, Lili was nominated for five other Oscars: Director, Screenplay, Cinematography, Art Direction, and Score. Surprisingly, “Hi Lili, Hi Lo” was not nominated for Best Song. Bronislau Kaper’s lilting score, however, was the only Oscar winner for the film. In 1961, Lili became the first film ever to be adapted into a Broadway musical, called Carnival, starring Anna Maria Alberghetti, James Mitchell as the magician, and Jerry Orbach as the puppeteer. It ran for 719 performances.” (Margarita Landazuri). Internally and the front two wrappers are near fine, the rear wrapper is chipped at the edges and is generally very good.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated September 9, 1937 [the movie’s U.S. release date was December 21, 1937]. Screenplay written by Art Arthur and Curtis Kenyon, based on a story by Art Arthur. This copy of the script is inscribed by Arthur and Kenyon. Songs in the production include: “Sweet Someone”, “I Wannt Be In Winchell’s Column”, “Broadway’s Gone Hawaii” and “Be A Good Sport” (all with music and lyrics by Mack Gordon and Harry Revel); “Power House” (by Raymond Scott); “The Wolf Song” (by Norman Zeno and Will Irwin); and “Oh, What A Man” (by Lew Pollack and Sidney D. Mitchell). Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Sidney Lanfield, the movie stars Walter Winchell, Ben Bernie, Simone Simon, Bert Lahr, Joan Davis, Dick Baldwin, Ruth Terry and Douglas Fowley. “Before sitting down to watch Love and Hisses, it’s important to know that columnist Walter Winchell and bandleader Ben Bernie were engaged in a phony but highly publicized feud in the late 1930s. For the purposes of this film, the source of the Winchell-Bernie contretemps is pretty nightclub singer Simone Simon. Secretly signing the girl to a contract, Bernie spreads rumors that the girl has no talent, knowing full well that his “friendly enemy” Winchell will then give her a huge build-up in his newspaper column. Upon finding out that he’s been hoodwinked, Winchell gets even by having Bernie kidnapped by a gang of phony hoodlums. With all this going on, it’s easy to forget that legendary Broadway clown Bert Lahr is also in Love and Hisses.” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1951. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheet printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘FILE COPY’ (twice) and ‘COMPLETE’ (once) on the front wrapper. This script is dated September 10, 1951 with inserted revision pages dated as late as October 26, 1951 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 29, 1952]. Screenplay written by George Wells and Harry Ruby, with additional dialogue by Andrew Solt, based on the play Roberta by Dorothy Fields and Otto A. Harbach, which in turn was based on Alice Duer Miller’s novel Gowns By Roberta. Songs in the production include: “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” (music by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Otto A. Harbach and Dorothy Fields); “Lovely To Look At” (music by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Dorothy Fields); “The Touch Of Your Hand,” “You’re Devastating” and “Yesterdays” (all with music by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Otto A. Harbach); “I Won’t Dance” (music by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II and Dorothy Fields); “I’ll Be Hard To Handle” (music by Jerome Kern and lyrics by Bernard Dougall); and “Lafayette” (music by Jerome Kern). Produced by Jack Cummings and directed by Mervyn LeRoy and Vincente Minnelli, the movie stars Kathryn Grayson, Red Skelton, Howard Keel, Marge Champion, Gower Champion, Ann Miller, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Kurt Kasznar, Marcel Dalio and Diane Cassidy. “The songs of Jerome Kern, one of America’s most celebrated songwriters, have frequently been used in films, with seven of them earning Academy Award nominations and two (“The Way You Look Tonight” and “The Last Time I Saw Paris”) winning Oscars. Among the nominated tunes was “Lovely to Look At,” from Kern’s score for the RKO musical Roberta (1935), starring Irene Dunne, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Dunne later said that having Kern write “Lovely to Look At” for her was “the thing I’m proudest of.” MGM used the title Lovely to Look At (1952) for its remake of Roberta, which had in turn been based on Kern’s Broadway hit of the same title. After MGM bought the rights to the property, the RKO musical was shelved for several years. Stepping in as the stars of Lovely to Look At were Howard Keel, Red Skelton and Gower Champion as showbiz buddies who hope to parlay Skelton’s inheritance of a Parisian dress salon into a big Broadway show; and Kathryn Grayson, Ann Miller and Marge Champion as the men’s romantic interests. Zsa Zsa Gabor pops up as a character whose name is, appropriately enough, Zsa Zsa. The movie features 10 Kern songs, including such standouts as “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes,” sung by Grayson and hauntingly danced by the Champions to choreography by Hermes Pan; “I Won’t Dance” as interpreted by the Champions; and, of course, “Lovely to Look At,” sung by Keel and Grayson. Miller shines with “I’ll Be Hard to Handle,” staged by Pan with a chorus of male dancers wearing wolf masks. Other songs include “Opening Night,” “Lafayette,” “Yesterdays,” “You’re Devastating,” “The Most Exciting Night” and “The Touch of Your Hand.” As a bonus, Skelton throws in his hilarious “Irish Tenor” routine. Although Lovely to Look At was directed by Mervyn LeRoy, the film’s fashion-show finale is the work of Vincente Minnelli, an expert in color and movement who stepped in when his friend had to leave the production prematurely. Adrian, MGM’s top designer, had created more than 40 costumes, at a cost of $100,000, and Minnelli recalled later that he was determined to give them “as extravagant a mounting” as he could. In four different sequences, with Kern’s music as a backdrop, Minnelli shows off the designer’s street clothes against a green background; bathing suits backed by blue; the dancing Champions on a red set; and formal wear with the chorus in gold armor against a backdrop of opera boxes.” (Roger Fristoe). A near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1958. Second Revised Shooting Final Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated July 16, 1958 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 18, 1958]. Screenplay written by Hal Kanter and Winston Miller, based on a story by Curtis Harrington. Songs in the production include: “I’ll Remember Tonight”; “Bigger Than Texas”; “Bourbon Street Blues”; “Loyalty”; “That Man”; “Stonewall Jackson”; “A Fiddle And A Rifle”; and “Mardi Gras” (all with music and lyrics by Sammy Fain and Paul Francis Webster). Produced by Jerry Wald and directed by Edmund Goulding, the movie stars Pat Boone, Christine Carère, Tommy Sands, Sheree North, Gary Crosby, Fred Clark, Dick Sargent, Barrie Chase, Jennifer West, Geraldine Wall, King Calder and Robert Burton. “The only reason for the existence of the colorful musical Mardi Gras is the star power of Pat Boone. The plot is set in motion when a group of Virginia Military Institute cadets organize a raffle: the “prize” is French movie star Michelle Marton (Christine Carère), queen of the New Orleans Mardi Gras. On his own, cadet Pat Newell (Pat Boone) meets and falls in love with Michelle, not knowing her true identity. The cause of True Romance is nearly compromised by the raffle and by Hollywood publicity hacks, but by film’s end everything works out fine. The film is deftly stolen by supporting actress Sheree North, who also performs the film’s best musical number, “That Man”.” (Hal Erickson). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Lionel Newman). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1950. First Draft Continuity Pre-Production Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 13, 1950 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 15, 1951]. Screenplay written by Mary Loos and Richard Sale based on a story by Scott Darling and Erna Lazarus. Songs in the production include: “Meet Me After The Show”; “Betting On A Man”; “Oh, Me! Oh, Mi-ami”; “It’s A Hot Night In Alaska”; “(Ev’ry Day Is Like) A Day In Maytime”; “No Talent Joe”; and “I Feel Like Dancing” (all with music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Leo Robin); and “Night Music” (written by Hal Schaeffer). Produced by George Jessel and directed by Richard Sale, the movie stars Betty Grable, Macdonald Carey, Rory Calhoun, Eddie Albert, Fred Clark, Lois Andrews, Irene Ryan, Steve Condos and Jerry Brandow. “Delilah and Jeff (Betty Grable and MacDonald Carey) are a successful show-business team, but less successful as husband and wife. Finding that her producer hubby is unfaithful, musical-comedy star Delilah walks out on him, heading for Miami, where she got her start. In the process, Delilah feigns amnesia, then inaugurates a romance with a Miami playboy (Rory Calhoun). His jealousy aroused, Jeff heads to Miami to reclaim his wife, but she leads him on quite a merry chase until she finally allows herself to get caught. One of several Twentieth Century-Fox musicals produced by comedian George Jessel, Meet Me After The Show is a standard-issue Betty Grable vehicle, highlighted by several sprightly musical numbers, including a captivating routine with Grable and an uncredited Jack Cole and Gwen Verdon.” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1950. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated December 6, 1950. A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: Weekend at Las Vegas. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1955. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Unit Manager Sidney Bowen’s copy, with his ownership notation on the upper front corner, and stamped ‘TEMPORARY INCOMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated April 28, 1955 [the movie’s U.S. release date was February 21, 1956]. Screenplay written by Isobel Lennart based on her own story. Songs in the production include: “I Refuse To Rock And Roll,” “Hell Hath No Fury,” “Meet Me In Las Vegas,” “If You Can Dream,” “The Gal With The Yaller Shoes” and “My Lucky Charm” (all with music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Sammy Cahn); “Frankie And Johnny” (traditional with special lyrics by Sammy Cahn); “Rehearsal Ballet” (music by Johnny Green); and “Sleeping Beauty Ballet” (music by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Roy Rowland, the movie stars Dan Dailey, Cyd Charisse, Agnes Moorehead, Lili Darvas, Jim Backus, Oskar Karlweis, Liliane Montevecchi, Cara Williams, George Chakiris, Betty Lynn, Pete Rugolo, John Brascia, John Harding, Benny Rubin, Jack Daly, Henry Backus, Jerry Colonna, Paul Henreid, Lena Horne, Frankie Laine, Mitsuko Sawamura and The Four Aces. “You can’t really classify Meet Me in Las Vegas as a Frank Sinatra picture since he only makes a brief cameo appearance in it but it was filmed at the Sands Hotel, which became Sinatra’s favorite Las Vegas performance venue in the fifties. The film also captures the glitz and glamour of the neon-lit gamblers’ paradise in its martini-era prime. Front and center in this Joe Pasternak concoction are Dan Dailey as a Nevada rancher addicted to roulette and Cyd Charisse as a ballerina who turns out to be his “Lady Luck” at the gaming tables. While the crux of the plot hinges on their teaming up for untold fortunes at the casinos, and eventually romance, the fun of the film is spotting the various celebrity guest spots. Yes, that’s Sinatra hitting the jackpot on a slot machine. Look over there, it’s Debbie Reynolds sharing a coke with singer Vic Damone. Isn’t that Peter Lorre at the blackjack table snarling, “Hit me, you creep!” If you stay on your guard, you’ll also catch glimpses of other Las Vegas entertainers like Dean Martin, Jerry Colonna, and Tony Martin. The Oscar nominated score by George Stoll and Johnny Green is also a plus and includes guest appearances by Lena Horne performing “If You Can’t Dream,” and Frankie Laine singing “Hell Hath No Fury.” The real show-stopper in Meet Me in Las Vegas is Sammy Cahn’s thirteen minute bop parody of the ballad of “Frankie and Johnny.” At the time, MGM was under the relatively new management of Dore Schary and he was against producing more musicals because they were too expensive in relation to their box office returns. According to Cyd Charisse, Schary, with little prior notice, showed up on the set one day to watch the rehearsal of the “Frankie and Johnny” number, which was still in the planning stages. Despite the pressure she felt, Charisse, with the help of choreographer Hermes Pan, put on a spectacular presentation that convinced Schary to keep the costly number in the film. “I went back to my dressing room and I was absolutely drained,” Charisse recalls in The Two of Us by Tony Martin and Cyd Charisse. “My head ached and I saw lights flashing in front of my eyes. I had to go home and, when I got there, I couldn’t see, or just barely. Half my vision was gone. Tony was frightened for me and quickly sent for a doctor. The diagnosis was that it was just exhaustion, coupled with nervous strain... I needed rest. I was fine the next day. I think it was all worth it, because the “Frankie and Johnny” number made the movie and both became big hits. The vocal to that number, special lyrics by Sammy Cahn, was done by Sammy Davis, Jr. whose rendition could never be topped.”” (Jeff Stafford). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (George Stoll and Johnny Green), and was also nominated for a Directors Guild of America Award for Outstanding Directorial Achievement in Motion Pictures (Roy Rowland) and nominated for Best Written American Musical (Isobel Lennart). Several holograph notations in red pencil throughout (presumably by Sid Bowen), lightly soiled and creased at the edges, else a very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1935. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script has been dated July 16, 1935 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 17, 1935]. Screenplay written by Bess Meredyth and George Marion, Jr., based on a story by Bess Meredyth. Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Richard Boleslawski, the movie stars Lawrence Tibbett, Virginia Bruce, Alice Brady, Cesar Romero, Thurston Hall, Luis Alberni and George F. Marion. “Among the varied splendors of the Lawrence Tibbett film at the Radio City Music Hall, perhaps the special triumph is its conclusive demonstration that it is possible for a musical picture to end too soon. After the operatic sequence in which Mr. Tibbett sings the prologue from “I Pagliacci,” the experienced filmgoer anticipates, not without misgivings, that the star will next inflate his baritone to the needs of the hackneyed “vesta la giuba” aria. At this point Metropolitan artfully comes to a close, while the applause for Mr. Tibbett’s magnificent rendition of the prologue is still filling the auditorium. Metropolitan is a happy début for Darryl F. Zanuck as a producer for the new Twentieth Century-Fox organization. Superbly stirring in its choice and execution of the musical numbers, it is also a gay and spirited satire on the social exclusiveness of opera management. The film is quite as successful in celebrating Mr. Tibbett’s return to the screen as One Night of Love was for Grace Moore, his associate in the musical photoplays of five or six years ago. Not only does the distinguished baritone endow the cinema with an important musical talent, but he also brings to it a vigorous personality and an engaging acting gift. In the recent operatic films the screen, carefully feeling its way in a tentative effort to blend opera and screen narrative, has insisted on clipping the arias so as to escape the peril of visual monotony. Metropolitan gallantly suppresses this shibboleth and allows Mr. Tibbett to hold the screen for fairly lengthy intervals, thereby permitting us to savor the full emotional richness of the music. The selections range all the way from “The Barber of Seville,” “Carmen” and “I Pagliacci” to “The Road to Mandalay” and the enchanting Negro spiritual “Glory Road,” which Mr. Tibbett performs with vast and delightful skill. The story, though possessing no more than a wisp of plot mechanics, is excellent in its own right. Aiming a savage blow at the Metropolitan Opera Association for its treatment of American singers, the authors present Mr. Tibbett as a gifted baritone who is shackled to minor rôles in the mob scenes because the directors will not give him his chance. Thereupon an eccentric coloratura (who seems to be modeled after one of our front-page divas) decides to form a rival company in Philadelphia, and she assembles Mr. Tibbett and other musicians whom the Metropolitan has ignored. Her excesses of temperament, however, prove too much, and when she finally walks out on the company, the enterprise seems about to founder for lack of money. In its discussions of the troupe’s financial problems, Metropolitan becomes an ironic commentary on the barriers which opera as an art form erects both against those who would serve the muse and against a vast potential audience. Alice Brady gives a gloriously demented performance as the temperamental diva. Virginia Bruce, whose timing in The Great Barnum was so perfect that spectators refused to believe some one was singing for her, is equally effective this time as an ambitious soprano. Cesar Romero plays a debonair tenor skillfully and Luis Alberni is again hilarious as a passionately Latin music-lover. There are additional performances of excellence by George Marion Sr., Etienne Girardot, Jessie Ralph and Thurston Hall. Metropolitan is very likely the best musical film of the season.” (Andre Sennwald, New York Times review, October 18, 1935). Wrappers chipped at the edges and the head and toe of the spine, with a few closed tears on the front and rear covers, else a very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1946. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 15, 1946 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 20, 1947]. Screenplay written by Lamar Trotti, based on a book by Miriam Young. Songs in the production include: “M-O-T-H-E-R (A Word That Means The World To Me)” (music by Theodore Morse and lyrics by Howard Johnson); “Daddy, You’ve Been A Mother To Me” (written by Fred Fisher); “Burlington Bertie From Bow” (written by William Hargreaves); “You Do”; “This Is My Favorite City”; “We’re A Couple Of Broadway Brothers”; “There’s Nothing Like A Song”; “(Rolling Down Bowling Green) On A Little Two-Seat Tandem”; “Fare-Thee-Well, Dear Alma Mater”; and “Kokomo, Indiana” (all with music by Josef Myrow and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Tra-La-La-La” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Lily Of The Valley” (music by Anatole Friedland and lyrics by L. Wolfe Gilbert; “Swinging Down The Lane” (music by Isham Jones and lyrics by Gus Kahn); “Stumbling” (written by Zez Confrey); “The Mountain” (written by Señor Wences); “At A Georgia Camp Meeting” (written by Kerry Mills); and “Put Your Arms Around Me, Honey (I Never Knew Any Girl Like You)”. Produced by Lamar Trotti and directed by Walter Lang, the movie stars Betty Grable, Dan Dailey, Mona Freeman, Connie Marshall, Vanessa Brown, Robert Arthur, Sara Allgood, William Frawley, Ruth Nelson, Anabel Shaw, Stephen Dunne, George Cleveland, Veda Ann Borg, Sig Ruman, Lee Patrick and Señor Wences. “There was a time in the history of American movies when musicals were perceived as a balm for pressing social ills, including the Great Depression and World War II. Produced by Twentieth Century-Fox at the height of Betty Grable’s popularity – she’d been the most popular pin-up girl for our boys overseas, with one studio famously insuring her legs for a million dollars with Lloyd’s of London – Mother Wore Tights paired the veteran hoofer with Dan Dailey, himself a returning war vet and established dancer who was a year away from his own lone Academy Award nomination (When My Baby Smiles At Me). Exploiting the strong strain of nostalgia that even then made for box office success, the two play a song-and-dance team who travel the USA at the turn of the century (the last one, of course). The framework affords them plenty of opportunity to showcase the Mack Gordon-Josef Myrow tunes and Seymour Felix-Kenny Williams dance numbers, and the whole thing is redolent of the kind of glossy Hollywood cheer they just don’t make anymore. Mother Wore Tights won Alfred Newman an Oscar for Scoring of a Musical Picture (see how popular the genre was?) and was nominated for Harry Jackson’s vivid color photography (in those days a separate award was given for color films; the Oscar rightly went to Jack Cardiff for Black Narcissus – one of the most stunning achievements in the history of cinematography) as well as the song “You Do,” which was beat out by “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah,” from Walt Disney’s Song of the South.” (Charles Bates). The movie won an Academy Award for Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Alfred Newman), and was nominated in the following categories: Best Cinematography, Color (Harry Jackson); and Best Music, Original Song (Josef Myrow and Mack Gordon for the song “You Do”). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1947. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated September 10, 1947. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1949. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 1, 1949 [the movie’s U.S. release date was September 15, 1950]. Screenplay written by Claude Binyon and Lamar Trotti, based on S.K. Lauren’s story “Stork Don’t Bring Babies.” Songs in the production include: “It’s Deductible”; “What A Man”; “Halloween”; “Cosmo Cosmetics”; “I Love A New Yorker”; “Live Hard, Work Hard, Love Hard”; “The Friendly Islands”; and “Don’t Rock The Boat, Dear” (all with music by Harold Arlen and lyrics by Ralph Blane); and “My Blue Heaven” (music by Walter Donaldson and lyrics by George Whiting). Produced by Sol C. Siegel and directed by Henry Koster, the movie stars Betty Grable, Dan Dailey, David Wayne, Jane Wyatt, Mitzi Gaynor, Una Merkel, Don Hicks, Louise Beavers and Laura Pierpont. “In this musical comedy with dramatic touches, Jack and Molly Moran (Dan Dailey and Betty Grable) are a show business couple who, after hosting their own radio show, have just been given a deal to star in a TV series. They’re also thrilled to discover that Molly is expecting a baby, but their joy turns to sorrow after she loses the child in an auto accident, and her doctors tell her that she may not be able to conceive again. When they see how happy their friends Walter and Janet Pringle (David Wayne and Jane Wyatt) are with their five children, the Morans decide to adopt, but they discover that show people are not generally regarded as fit parents, regardless of their success or stability. However, good fortune eventually shines on Jack and Molly, as they find themselves with not one but two adopted tykes, and a big surprise around the corner. My Blue Heaven marked the film debut of musical star Mitzi Gaynor.” (Mark Deming). The movie was nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (Claude Binyon and Lamar Trotti). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1949. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated December 1, 1949. A very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1941. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated December 22, 1941 [the movie’s U.S. release date was April 30, 1942]. Screenplay written by Seton I. Miller, Karl Tunberg and Darrell Ware, based on Theodore Dreiser’s story “My Brother Paul.” Songs in the production include: “I’se Your Honey If You Wants Me, Liza Jane”; “Come Tell Me What’s Your Answer, Yes Or No”; “The Convict And The Bird”; “On The Banks Of The Wabash”; “Mr. Volunteer”; and “My Gal Sal” (all with music and lyrics by Paul Dresser; “On The Gay White Way”; “Oh, The Pity Of It All”; “Here You Are” and “Me And My Fella And A Big Umbrella” (all with music by Ralph Rainger and lyrics by Leo Robin); and “Daisy Bell” (written by Harry Dacre). Produced by Robert Bassler and directed by Irving Cummings, the movie stars Rita Hayworth, Victor Mature, John Sutton, Carole Landis, James Gleason, Phil Silvers, Walter Catlett, Mona Maris, Frank Orth and Stanley Andrews. “A pregnant Alice Faye was forced to bow out of this colorful Fox musical, which instead went to Rita Hayworth, whom the studio borrowed from Columbia. Hayworth plays the highly fictitious Sally Elliott of the title, a musical star teaming up with Indiana boy Paul Dresser (Victor Mature), a runaway who after a brief stopover in a tank town medicine show arrives in Gay Nineties New York full of verve and vigor. There he composes the title tune for the fair lady and becomes the toast of Tin Pan Alley. There are the obligatory bumps on the road along the way, of course, but everything ends, as any Fox musical should, with a grand and glorious finale. Although Fox publicity claimed that My Gal Sal was based on “My Brother Paul,” a biography by the composer’s brother, Theodore Dreiser, it was actually concocted from an unpublished manuscript by Dreiser and his wife Helen Richardson. The film earned Oscars for art and set decoration and included such Dresser songs as “On the Banks of the Wabash”, “I’se Your Honey, If You Wants Me, Liza”, “Come Tell Me What’s Your Answer (Yes or No)” and “Mr. Volunteer.” House songwriters Leo Robin and Ralph Rainger contributed “Me and My Fella” and “On the Great White Way.” (Hans J. Wollstein). The movie won the Academy Award for Best Art Direction-Interior Decoration, Color (Richard Day, Joseph C. Wright and Thomas Little), and was nominated in the category of Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Alfred Newman). Rubbed on the upper front wrapper, else a very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1942. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 17, 1942. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1944. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated July 25, 1944 [the movie’s U.S. release date was June 13, 1945]. Screenplay written by Norman Reilly Raine and Wanda Tuchock, based on a story by Eleanore Griffin. Songs in the production include: “I Don’t Care Who Knows It”, “Touring San Francisco” and “I Walked Right In With My Eyes Wide Open” (all with music by Jimmy McHugh and lyrics by Harold Adamson; “On San Francisco Bay” (music by Gertrude Hoffman and lyrics by Vincent Bryan; “What Do You Want To Make Those Eyes At Me For?” (music by James V. Monaco and lyrics by Howard Johnson and Joseph McCarthy); “San Francisco, The Paris Of The USA” (written by Hirshel Hendler); “Holy God, We Praise Thy Name” (written by Peter Ritter); “San Francisco” (music by Bronislau Kaper and Walter Jurmann and lyrics by Gus Kahn); “Hello, Frisco!” (music by Louis A. Hirsch and lyrics by Gene Buck); “When You Wore A Tulip And I Wore A Big Red Rose” (music by Percy Wenrich and lyrics by Jack Mahoney); “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” (music by Ernest Ball and lyrics by Chauncey Olcott and George Graff); and “Hello! Ma Baby” (music by Joseph E. Howard and lyrics by Ida Emerson. Produced by André Daven and directed by Henry Hathaway, the movie stars George Raft, Joan Bennett, Vivian Blaine, Peggy Ann Garner, Alan Reed, B.S. Pully, Emil Coleman, Edgar Barrier, Joe Smith and Charles Dale. “A familiar period musical set in turn-of-the-century San Francisco during the heyday of the Barbary Coast. Raft is the well-respected proprietor of the Gold Coast Saloon who enjoys a hearty business, a steady stream of likable clients, and a promising relationship with the club’s star singer, Blaine. His life takes a turn when he meets a teenage girl, Garner, who’s come to San Francisco from Ireland in search of her uncle. The helpless lass’ innocent face fills with tears when Raft informs her that her uncle has died. Not knowing what else to do, Raft extends his generosity to Garner and invites her to stay with him. It is through Garner that Raft meets Bennett, an aggressive and flashy lady from snobbish, upper-class Nob Hill. Raft represses the attraction he feels for Bennett by trying to convince himself of the differences between them. “The Hill and the Coast are like champagne and beer,” he states, “They don’t mix.” Bennett eventually invites Raft to dinner and daringly plants a kiss on the surprised saloonkeeper. A marriage proposal follows, as does the severing of the relationship between Raft and Blaine. As expected, Raft grows disillusioned with the insincere ways of Bennett, and the dishonest political scheming of her brother, who is making an election bid to be the city’s district attorney. Bennett dumps Raft, and Raft hits the bottle when he discovers that Blaine wants nothing to do with him. It takes matchmaker Garner to reunite the two. Assuming that three is a crowd, Garner plans to leave the lovers, but the finale has Raft and Blaine taking the young lass with them. A reworking of two Alice Faye vehicles, Hello Frisco, Hello (1943) and King Of Burlesque (1935), Nob Hill offers a standard serving of entertaining scenes which are thankfully injected with a lively dose of music. Originally intended as a vehicle for Fred MacMurray and Lynn Bari, Nob Hill went over just as well with Raft and Bennett, especially with the addition of Garner to the cast list.” (Charles Bates). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1945. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script was dated May 25, 1945. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1948. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 17, 1948 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 11, 1949]. Screenplay written by Albert Lewis and Arthur Lewis. Songs in the production include: “Oh! You Beautiful Doll” (music by Nat Ayer and lyrics by Seymour Brown); “Come Josephine In My Flying Machine” and “Peg O’ My Heart” (both with music by Fred Fisher and lyrics by Al Bryan); “Ireland Must Be Heaven, For My Mother Came From There” (music by Fred Fisher and lyrics by Howard Johnson and Joseph McCarthy); “I Want You To Want Me” (music by Fred Fisher and lyrics by Bob Schafer and Al Bryan); “When I Get You Alone Tonight” (music by Fred Fisher and lyrics by Joseph McCarthy and Joe Goodwin); “There’s A Broken Heart For Every Light On Broadway” (music by Fred Fisher and lyrics by Howard Johnson); “Daddy, You’ve Been A Mother To Me” and “Chicago (That Toddlin’ Town)” (both with music and lyrics by Fred Fisher); and “Dardanella” (music by Felix Bernard and Johnny Black and lyrics by Fred Fisher). Produced by George Jessel and directed by John M. Stahl, the movie stars Mark Stevens, June Stevens, S.Z. Sakall, Charlotte Greenwood, Gale Robbins, Jay C. Flippen, Andrew Tombes and Eduard Franz. “Producer George Jessel and his Twentieth Century-Fox helpmeets are demonstrating once again in Oh, You Beautiful Doll that with a dozen or so flavorsome old songs and Technicolor to help evoke a soft, nostalgic mood they can turn out a mighty pleasant entertainment. The new musical… may not be the greatest thing to come down the pike, but it is well larded with chuckles, thanks to the wonderfully confused flutterings of S.Z. (Cuddles) Sakall. And after a few bars of “Come Josephine In My Flying Machine” to start things going, you are apt to forget all about “Mule Train” and settle down to a comfortable hour and a half in the company of some very genial people and music that is old yet new. For instance, who stopped to think, when “Peg O’ My Heart” was a recent rage, that here was a thirty-five-year-old song? Oh, You Beautiful Doll takes more than a few modest liberties in recounting the life of the late Fred Fisher, who found a pot of gold in Tin Pan Alley and poured out hit tunes as composer and publisher for forty years. Mr. Fisher once said in an interview that the reason why most popular songsmiths had trouble getting melodic inspiration was that they didn’t know classical music well enough. Taking its cue from there, Twentieth Century-Fox got Albert and Arthur Lewis to write a screen play in which Mr. Sakall could be presented as a struggling longhair composer who sets the country singing and dancing when a smart young song plugger comes along, lifts out his arias, quickens their tempo and adorns them with popular lyrics. Poor as he is, this is an outrageous crime to the eyes of Alfred Breitenbach, who agrees to try one song so long as his true identity remains a secret. Thus Fred Fisher is born in the film. The more his opera arias become popular successes, the more ashamed he becomes and, this results in some towering expressions of indignation and frustration which flow at times in unintelligible, but vastly amusing, torrents from the exasperated composer. Mr. Sakall has never had a role which fit him so well and which he could play with such relish. June Haver, as the composer’s beautiful daughter with a crush on the brash songplugger, Mark Stevens, was simply made for Technicolor. She is peaches and cream and, as the song goes, everything nice; besides which she can do a song or a dance in a way that gives pleasure. Mr. Stevens plays with just the right amount of bounce and flash to provide his character with an appropriate Tin Pan Alley flair. Since the film is nicely appointed with gaslight settings and Director John M. Stahl handles the switches from songs to story without interrupting the pace and continuity, Oh, You Beautiful Doll manages to hide or disguise a lot of its essentially threadbare material.” (New York Times review of November 12, 1949). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1950. Temporary Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 28, 1950, with inserted revision pages dated May 5, 1950 [the movie’s U.S. release date was April 20, 1951]. Screenplay written by Valentine Davies, Henry Ephron and Phoebe Ephron, adapted by Jessie Ernst from the play The Red Cat by Hans Adler and Rudolph Lothar. Songs in the production include: “On The Riviera”; “Rhythm Of A New Romance”; “Popo The Puppet”; and “Happy Ending” (all with music and lyrics by Sylvia Fine); and “Ballin’ The Jack” (music by Chris Smith and lyrics by Jim Burris). Produced by Sol C. Siegel and directed by Walter Lang, the movie stars Danny Kaye, Gene Tierney, Corinne Calvet, Marcel Dalio, Jean Murat, Henri Letondal, Clinton Sundberg, Sig Ruman, Joyce Mackenzie and Monique Chantal. “Danny Kaye’s 1951 musical On The Riviera is pretty much your basic Prince and the Pauper comedy of errors. Director Walter Lang’s film is actually an adaptation of the stage play The Red Cat, which had been made into a movie twice before this. So, there’s no pretense here that this isn’t well-worn ground. What On The Riviera has that previous versions did not is the charisma and elastic athleticism of one of cinema’s finest comedians. Kaye stars in two roles in the movie: the nightclub performer Jack Martin and the aviation playboy Capitaine Henri Duran. Jack is backed into a corner by the club’s owner, who is insisting that the singer come up with something new and sensational or start looking for another job. Deciding to capitalize on the striking resemblance between himself and the Capitaine, Jack develops an act that recreates the pilot’s around-the-world tour in song and dance. It’s one of the more impressive numbers in the picture, colorfully highlighting the Capitaine’s different stops and the women he met there. The music is written by Kaye’s wife, Sylvia Fine, and it cleverly uses the various styles of the countries spotlighted to give the scene a special kick. Jack debuts the new material at a dinner honoring the French hero, attended by Duran himself. Of course, the two fellows’ wives also attend. Jack’s is a cute dancer named Collette (Corinne Calvet), and Duran is attached to the long-suffering, sophisticated Lili (the lovely Gene Tierney). Though the two men never meet, they do encounter their respective spouses, whom they then try to woo. Things only get more complicated when the Capitaine, fearful of a business deal going south, jets to London, leaving his business partners to hire Jack to play the famous aviator at a party. From there, it’s a pile-up of misunderstandings, based on who knows what and who knows whom. While the tendency for such a plot might be to go overly zany, Lang (who also directed State Fair and Cheaper By The Dozen) knows enough to let Danny Kaye do his thing and stand back. Though he is supported by a fantastic cast, including many European character actors, it’s really Kaye’s show. He does, after all, play two parts, and he employs a light touch to differentiate between them. The split is mainly physical. The Capitaine has a stiffer posture and conducts himself with confidence, whereas Jack is looser, more of a goof. Kaye almost takes on a third role when he has to play Jack pretending to be Duran. Somehow he creates a composite of the two that is convincing as one man doing an impersonation of another, and yet makes it so we never have any doubt of which character he is supposed to be while we’re watching him. It’s quite impressive. Next to Kaye, the other main stars are the colorful sets and beautiful costumes, which both work especially well in the song and dance numbers. These are combined most splendidly in Jack’s nightclub performances, but Lang doesn’t restrict them to the confines of what should be a much smaller stage. He opens up the set and lets Kaye go wide with it. In addition to the big number about Duran, “Rhythm Of A New Romance,” there is also a wonderful set-up called “Popo The Puppet.” The song itself isn’t a knock-out, but it’s really just providing context for Kaye’s rubbery performance as a marionette being tugged around on strings. All in all, On The Riviera is little more than a frothy lark, but thanks to its impressive star power and its concise structure, it manages to be a delightful one.” (Jamie S. Rich). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the following categories: Best Art Direction-Set Direction, Color (Leland Fuller, Thomas Little, Walter M. Scott, Lyle R. Wheeler and Joseph C. Wright); and Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Alfred Newman). The movie was also nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (Valentine Davies, Henry Ephron and Phoebe Ephron) and won a Golden Globe Award in the category of Best Motion Picture Actor – Comedy/Musical (Danny Kaye). Wrappers showing some light wear to the edges, else a very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1955. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY INCOMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated April 13, 1955 with inserted page revisions dated as late as July 8, 1955 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 26, 1956]. Screenplay written by Fay Kanin and Michael Kanin, based on Clare Boothe Luce’s play The Women. Songs in the production include: “The Opposite Sex,” “Young Man With A Horn,” “A Perfect Love,” “Yellow Gold” and “Now Baby Now” (all with music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Sammy Cahn); and “Rock And Roll Tumbleweed” (music by Ralph Freed and lyrics by George E. Stoll). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by David Miller, the movie stars June Allyson, Joan Collins, Dolores Gray, Ann Sheridan, Ann Miller, Leslie Nielsen, Jeff Richards, Agnes Moorehead, Charlotte Greenwood, Joan Blondell, Sam Levene, Bill Goodwin, Alice Pearce, Barbara Jo Allen, Sandy Descher, Carolyn Jones, Jerry Antes, Alan Marshal, Jonathan Hole, Leslie Parrish, Harry James, Art Mooney, Dick Shawn and Jim Backus. “The Opposite Sex (1956) is a remake of The Women (1939), which was based on Clare Boothe Luce’s 1936 play of the same name. In the latter two, a group of New York society women gossip, scheme and steal each other’s husbands, and a man is never seen. The Opposite Sex changes the milieu to show business, and adds three elements which The Women did not have: men, music, and color. Most critics felt that the first two additions were mistakes. However, the third, along with an excellent cast, helped mitigate those errors. June Allyson plays Kay Hilliard, a former musical theater star now a happy wife and mother – happy, that is, until her friends find out that Kay’s theatrical producer husband is cheating with a trampy showgirl, played by Joan Collins. The good wife heads for Reno, loses her husband to her rival, then puts on her Jungle Red war paint and sets out to win him back. The Opposite Sex was something of a homecoming for Allyson. Signed by MGM to repeat her stage role in the film version of the musical Best Foot Forward (1943), she had spent a decade at the studio, and had been one of its most popular stars. Dissatisfied with the films she was being offered, Allyson left MGM in 1953 at the end of her contract, and had been freelancing at various studios. She had returned to MGM for a dramatic role in Executive Suite (1954), but The Opposite Sex would be her last musical at the studio. Most of the songs were new, and written by Nicholas Brodszky and Sammy Cahn for the film. But the best song in The Opposite Sex is a reprise of one of Allyson’s early hits from Two Girls and a Sailor (1944) – a duet with trumpeter Harry James, “Young Man With a Horn.” Joan Collins writes in her autobiography that the role of Crystal in The Opposite Sex was her first “grown-up role.” Crystal, she writes, “was definitely not a girl. She was all woman – and all bitch. Sexy, conniving and shrewd, she was the embryo Alexis,” the character Collins would later play in the 1980s television series Dynasty. Collins also recalls two incidents from the filming of The Opposite Sex. In a confrontation scene, Allyson’s character slaps Collins. “June hauled off and belted me. This little lady with her tiny hands had a punch like Muhammad Ali!” Allyson was distraught and apologetic, Collins’ face bore the imprint of the slap, and shooting had to be postponed until the welts went down, writes Collins, possibly exaggerating for dramatic effect. Another incident was even more painful. A long scene with Crystal in a bubble bath talking on the telephone took several days to film. The bubbles were made with harsh detergent, and Collins had an allergic reaction that left her body raw and blistered. The prop department had to devise a method to keep the bubbles away from her, and ended up rigging a piece of plywood with a hole cut for her body. The plywood was covered with a rubber sheet and the bubbles, with Collins’ upper body above the hole, and her tender lower body swathed in bandages below. Sylvia, the cattiest tigress in the pack, is played by Dolores Gray, a stage musical performer who appeared in just a few films, but usually stole them from her better-known co-stars. Oddly, except for the title song over the opening credits, Gray’s musical talents are not on display in The Opposite Sex. Neither are those of Ann Miller, who plays a showgirl in Reno dumping one husband to marry another. She has no dance numbers in the film. Most of the musical numbers feature Allyson, and are big, flashy, and to modern eyes, campy and unintentionally funny. Other standouts in the cast are Ann Sheridan as an acerbic writer, Agnes Moorehead, as a much-married countess, and Joan Blondell as an always-pregnant matron. Interestingly, Blondell had been married to Dick Powell, who later married Allyson and was still married to her during the making of The Opposite Sex. Apparently, the ladies avoided each other as much as possible during filming. Allyson does not mention the film at all in her autobiography. The men in the cast included Leslie Nielsen as Allyson’s philandering husband, and Jeff Richards as a singing cowboy, but they added little to the proceedings. The film’s assets include Robert Bronner’s eye-popping color cinematography, and Helen Rose’s over-the-top costumes, an haute-fifties fashion parade. The satire is less pointed than that of The Women, but The Opposite Sex is one of the last examples of 1950s glamour, and of MGM’s trademark deluxe style.” (Margarita Landazuri). The front wrapper is slightly stained and darkened, else a near fine copy.

Originally titled: Orchestra Wife. Century City: Twentieth Century Fox, 1942. First Draft Continuity Pre-Production Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script was dated March 9, 1942 [the movie’s U.S. release date was September 4, 1942]. Screenplay written by Karl Tunberg and Darrell Ware, based on a story by James Prindle. Songs in the production include: “At Last”; “I’ve Got A Girl In Kalamazoo”; “People Like You And Me”; and “Serenade In Blue” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); and “Bugle Call Rag” (music and lyrics by Jack Pettis, Billy Meyers and Elmer Schoebel). Produced by William LeBaron and directed by Archie Mayo, the movie stars George Montgomery, Ann Rutherford, Glenn Miller and The Glenn Miller Orchestra, Lynn Bari, Carole Landis, Cesar Romero, Virginia Gilmore, Mary Beth Hughes, The Nicholas Brothers, Tamara Geva and Frank Orth. “Orchestra Wives was a Glenn Miller vehicle directed by Archie Mayo and reflected the ‘whitening’ of jazz during the swing era. The second motion picture built to showcase the Glenn Miller Orchestra (following 1941’s Sun Valley Serenade), Orchestra Wives concentrates on the performance space of swing era jazz as a site for social mixing of the genders. Meanwhile, the African-American roots of jazz, and the notion of jazz as an arena conducive to racial interaction, become invisible. In the film, Connie, a young small-town swing fan meets and marries the trumpet player in the big band she idolizes. (Glenn Miller plays Gene Morrison, the leader of this fictional band.) She experiences difficulties adjusting to life on the road, which contrasts with her glamorous expectations. The other musicians’ wives engage in malicious gossip, and her husband’s ex-girlfriend Jaynie, the band’s lead singer, plots to break up the marriage. The film thus expresses uneasiness about the type of woman who would seek fame on the swing scene, criticizing her as ‘unfemininely ambitious’, while simultaneously presenting and benefiting from her performance. Big band films such as Orchestra Wives showcased swing performances and celebrated swing musicians as philosophers creating music with the needs of young America in mind. Women were an integral part to swing performance, and were celebrated as long as they remained happy consumers or wives content to stay behind the scenes. (At the end of the film, Connie sees that Jaynie is kicked out of the band.)” (Charles Bates). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (Harry Warren and Mack Gordon for “I’ve Got A Gal In Kalamazoo”). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century Fox, 1942. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 2, 1942. Torn at the spine, else a very good copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1941. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is stamped ‘COMPLETE’ and ‘VAULT COPY’ with credits in manual type for producer Arthur Freed and screenwriter Jack McGowan. The designation “Old” has been noted in pencil to the front cover in an unknown hand. This script is dated June 28, 1941 with inserted revision sheets dated as late as October 14, 1941 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 1, 1942]. In addition there are holograph change to the dates and page notations to the inside front cover, again in an unknown hand. Screenplay written by Jack McGowan and Wilkie C. Mahoney, with an uncredited Mary C. McCall Jr., Lillie Messinger, Vincente Minnelli and Joseph Schrank. Songs in the production include: “I’ve Still Got My Health”; “Just One Of Those Things”; “Fresh As A Daisy”; “Let’s Be Buddies”; and They Ain’t Done It Right By Our Nell” (all with music and lyrics by Cole Porter); “Hattie From Panama,” “Good Neighbors” and “I’ll Do Anything For You” (all music and lyrics by Roger Edens); “Berry Me Not” (music and lyrics by Phil Moore); “La Bumba Rhumba” (music and lyrics by Alex Hyde); “Hail! Hail! The Gang’s All Here” (music by Theodore Morse and Arthur Sullivan with lyrics by Dolly Morse); “(Did I Get Stinkin’) At The Savoy” (music by Walter Donaldson with lyrics by E.Y. Harburg); “The Spring” (music by Phil Moore with lyrics by Jeni Le Gon and Alfred Legou); and “The Son Of A Gun Who Picks On Uncle Sam” (music by Burton Lane with lyrics by E.Y. Harburg). Produced by Arthur Freed and directed by Norman Z. MacLeod (and the uncredited Roy Del Ruth and Vincente Minnelli), the movie stars Red Skelton, Ann Sothern, Rags Ragland, Ben Blue, Marsha Hunt, Virginia O’Brien, Alan Mowbray, Dan Dailey, Jackie Horner and Lena Horne. “True to MGM’s history, with Panama Hattie, a 1942 hit, producer Arthur Freed proved that this was one studio where great films weren’t made but rather re-made. Not that Cole Porter’s musical hit about a beautiful hotel owner in Central America had been filmed before. But by the time the Freed Unit got done correcting problems with the version previewed in November 1941, it might as well have been a new movie. Panama Hattie had been a big hit on Broadway for songwriter Cole Porter and music theatre legend Ethel Merman. In addition, it had made Betty Hutton a star with a showy supporting role and helped bring her understudy, chorus girl June Allyson, to Hollywood. Freed got MGM to shell out $130,000 for the film rights, but with Merman considered too big a presence for the screen, Hutton on the way to film stardom at Paramount and a troupe of musically inclined leading ladies already under contract, Freed cast Ann Sothern, a triple threat whose failure to make it into Hollywood’s top ranks has long mystified her fans. She had been brought to MGM after Jean Harlow’s death to take over the role of Maisie Ravier, traveling showgirl, in a series of low-budget comedies often better received than the studio’s more prestigious films. And with her musical talents, she was a natural for the studio’s big musical productions, though she never seemed to get into the right ones. Panama Hattie was a mess from the beginning. George Murphy and Shirley Temple were originally cast as the socialite who wins Sothern’s heart and his kid sister, then abruptly replaced by Dan Dailey (before he became a star at 20th Century-Fox) and Jackie Horner. Most of the score was scrapped, with Sothern only getting to sing “What Say Let’s Be Buddies” and “Make It Another Old Fashioned Please.” She learned a new song, “(Did I Get Stinkin’) At the Savoy,” only to see it handed to co-star Virginia O’Brien. Most of the love story was cut (Dailey didn’t even get to sing or dance) to make room for raucous comedy featuring Rags Ragland, Red Skelton and Ben Blue. And director Norman Z. McLeod not only couldn’t get along with Sothern, but also kept the whole thing moving at a snail’s pace. It was hardly a surprise when the $800,000 film’s preview was a disaster. What would have been defeat at any other studio, however, was just the signal to get back to work at MGM. Freed got studio head Louis B. Mayer to give him another $300,000 to fix the film. Then, while discussing changes with Sothern on the set of her next film, Maisie Gets Her Man (1942), he was struck by how well director Roy Del Ruth was handling the picture. So, he assigned him to shoot re-takes. He also decided to add some new musical numbers, with his protégé, Broadway wunderkind Vincente Minnelli, directing them. And to add icing to the cake, he fit in two numbers for recently signed singer Lena Horne. Horne had scored a hit singing at the Cotton Club, then had crossed the color barrier to topline at Café Society in New York. Despite her talent, however, studio executives were concerned that films featuring a black woman as anything other than a domestic would be banned in the South and rejected by film audiences elsewhere. With Panama Hattie, her first film at MGM, Freed would establish the way she would appear in most of the studio’s films. Rather than play a role, she was billed as herself, only appearing for a few musical numbers that could easily be cut out of the film before showings in the south. The studio even developed a special makeup (“Light Egyptian,” which is still in use today) to lighten her skin so as not to make her presence too shocking to racist audience members. But at the same time, they broke boundaries by clearly presenting her as a very sexy, young black woman, an image rarely seen outside of all-black independent features. Freed juiced up the score with two more Porter songs. Sothern got to sing “I’ve Still Got My Health” from the original score. One of Horne’s specialties was “Just One of Those Things” from Jubilee, a musical MGM had bought but never filmed. Then the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor prompted a new grand finale. With patriotic fervor in the air, songwriters Burton Lane and E.Y. “Yip” Harburg wrote “The Son of a Gun Who Picks on Uncle Sam,” which Minnelli used as an excuse to bring out the entire cast. The new, improved Panama Hattie opened 11 months after its first preview. Critics weren’t all that impressed, with the New York scribes quick to complain about changes in the original show, but audiences loved it, bringing MGM a $3 million profit. Purists would have to wait for a 1954 television special, starring Merman and Art Carney, to find a version closer to the Broadway production.” (Frank Miller). Lightly soiled else a near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1941. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is stamped ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT,’ ‘COMPLETE’ and ‘VAULT COPY’ with credits in manual type for producer Arthur Freed and screenwriter Jack McGowan. A second front wrapper has been bound in behind the first, stamped ‘TEMPORARY INCOMPLETE’ and ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT,’ with credits in manual type for screenwriter Jack McGowan only, and dated June 28, 1941. This script also contains numerous pink revision inserts with some dated as late as October 14, 1941, and is roughly double the thickness of the previous script listed above, as it contains multiple versions, arranged in order (i.e., a composite). A near fine copy.

Originally titled: Second Fiddle. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1952. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY’ (three times) and ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated May 1, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was March 11, 1954]. Screenplay written by Fay Kanin and Michael Kanin from an adaptation by Ruth Goetz and Augustus Goetz of Henry Handel Richardson’s novel Maurice Guest. Music in the production (adapted by Bronislau Kaper) includes “Concerto In D Major For Violin And Orchestra” by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, “Concerto #2 In C Minor For Piano And Orchestra” by Sergei Rachmaninoff and “Gypsy Airs” by Pablo Sarasate. Produced by Lawrence Weingarten and directed by Charles Vidor, the movie stars Elizabeth Taylor, Vittorio Gassman, John Ericson, Louis Calhern, Michael Chekhov, Barbara Bates, Richard Hageman, Richard Lupino, Celia Lovsky, Stuart Whitman, Madge Blake, Jack Raine, Birgit Nielsen, Jacqueline Duval and Norma Nevens. “Rhapsody is high-gloss soap opera in the grand MGM manner. Elizabeth Taylor stars as Louise Durant, the beautiful but spoiled daughter of millionaire Nicholas Durant (Louis Calhern). Accustomed to getting whatever she wants, Louise sets her sights on violin student Paul Bronte (Vittorio Gassman). Before long, however, she tires of Paul’s all-consuming devotion to his music. Pianist James Guest (John Ericson) is the next moth drawn to Louise’s flame. He is willing to put his career on the back burner for her sake – and becomes an irresponsible drunk in the process. Anxious to win back Paul, who is now a famed concert violinist, Louise tries to rehabilitate James so he will be able to resume his concert activities – thereby allowing Louise free rein to chase after Paul. Someone’s going to have to eat humble pie before all this is over, and that someone has black hair and violet eyes. Rhapsody was adapted from Maurice Guest, a novel by Henry Handel Richardson.” (Hal Erickson). A near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1952. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY’ (twice) and ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated August 14, 1952. A near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1953. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY’ (three times) on the front wrapper. This script is dated March 3, 1953. A near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1953. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘REVISED FINAL,’ ‘MIMEOGRAPH FILE COPY,’ ‘VAULT COPY,’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated June 3, 1953 with inserted page revisions dated as late as August 6, 1953. A near fine copy.

Originally titled: Welcome to Paris. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1950. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated May 4, 1950 with inserted page revisions dated as late as July 19, 1950 [the movie was released in the United States on July 9, 1951]. Screenplay written by Sidney Sheldon, based on a story by Dorothy Cooper. Songs in the production include: “Wonder Why” and “Dark Is The Night” (both with music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Sammy Cahn); and “There’s Danger In Your Eyes, Cherie” (with music by Pete Wendling and lyrics by Jack Meskill). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Norman Taurog, the movie stars Jane Powell, Danielle Darrieux, Wendell Corey, Vic Damone, Fernando Lamas, Marcel Dalio, Una Merkel, Richard Anderson, Jean Murat, Hans Conried and The Four Freshmen. “1951 proved a banner year for Jane Powell. It marked her first adult role, as Fred Astaire’s sister and dancing partner in Royal Wedding, and the birth of her first child. In between, she starred in Rich, Young and Pretty, returning to juvenile roles as a Texas heiress accompanying her father (Wendell Corey) on a trip to Paris. There she finds her true love (Vic Damone) and befriends an older woman (Danielle Darrieux) who turns out to be her birth mother. Though she was Rich, Young and Pretty on screen, off screen Powell felt sick and bloated. She had found out she was pregnant, after a year of trying with husband Geary Anthony Steffen, Jr., during the final days of shooting on Royal Wedding. The studio couldn’t postpone her next film, so she had to work through morning sickness as cinematographer Robert Planck shot around her expanding waistline. Morning sickness quickly became a 24-hour ordeal. Pregnancy for Powell meant months of sickness, a situation that would recur with her other children. It was particularly hard for her to get through one number, “How Do You Like Your Eggs in the Morning,” when the last thing she wanted to think about was food. Eventually, she became so sick she couldn’t drive, and MGM had to send a car to pick her up each morning. Although she was happy to be pregnant, she also had another cause for concern. After years of younger roles, she had hoped that Royal Wedding would convince the studio to move her into more mature stories. Instead, at 22 the expectant mother was still playing a young girl innocently devoted to her father until she tastes her first real love. She wouldn’t get another adult role until she was cast as Howard Keel’s frontier bride in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954). Ironically, she would get her best reviews playing more mature characters, suggesting that there was much more to her acting talents than MGM’s executives were willing to admit. Of course, juvenalia was producer Joe Pasternak’s stock in trade. He had first made his name in Hollywood producing a series of musicals starring child soprano Deanna Durbin that had saved Universal Pictures from bankruptcy. He had come to MGM in the ‘40s to help them make another young singer, Kathryn Grayson, into a star. When she grew up, he started crafting vehicles for Powell. Even director Norman Taurog was an expert on working with younger players. He had won an Oscar directing his nephew, future MGM star Jackie Cooper, in Skippy (1931), then had gone on to work with the young Judy Garland, Grayson and Mickey Rooney. Only in the late ‘50s would he establish a new identity working with adult players, though even then he worked frequently with teen heartthrob Elvis Presley and comedian Jerry Lewis, whose humor verged on the infantile. Pasternak proved his eye for talent with two casting coups on Rich, Young and Pretty. He cast singing idol Vic Damone to make his film debut as Powell’s love interest, a role he had played briefly a few years earlier off-screen. The two stars had met when Powell was doing a singing engagement in New York. Over her mother’s objections, he had taken her out for a night of dancing. The next morning, he had sent her a gold and ruby necklace. They wouldn’t see each other again until Pasternak cast them together in this film. Also making his MGM debut in Rich, Young and Pretty was Fernando Lamas, cast as Darrieux’s lover. Although paired with the older woman on screen, he was actually just a few years older than Damone, the film’s juvenile love interest. The Argentine Lamas was already an established star in Mexico when he decided to give Hollywood a try. MGM had signed him to a contract but didn’t know what to do with him until Jose Iturbi, a frequent performer in their musicals, spotted him at a party and told Pasternak: “Joe, Joe! Here’s a prize; a gaucho for the girls!” (from James Robert Parrish, The MGM Stock Company). Pasternak cast him in Rich, Young and Pretty, and the studio began molding him as a Latin lover. For foreign film buffs the film offers a rare chance to see Darrieux in an American picture. She had become a star in her native France, particularly as Charles Boyer’s doomed love interest in Mayerling (1936), an international success that led to her one U.S. film of the period, The Rage of Paris (1938). Returning to France, she scored a series of international hits. Just before returning to Hollywood, she burned up art-house screens in La Ronde (1950), a film that helped break down local censorship in the U.S. Rich, Young and Pretty had success written all over it, as Powell’s and Damone’s fans lined up for tickets. The critics were relatively kind, appreciating the picture as a light-hearted way to display the cast’s musical talents, though the New York Times dismissed it as “pretty as a picture postcard and just about as exciting.” They were quick to point out Lamas’ sex appeal and mature acting and vocal talents, while also noting Damone’s screen potential. With the film’s success, Powell’s co-star was moved into more starring roles at MGM and encouraged to get a nose job. In later years, the film would be singled out by feminist critics for its unrealistic depiction of women’s lives and grouped with other juvenile romances that display a strange sexual tension between young women and their doting, often divorced or widowed fathers. In A Woman’s View: How Hollywood Spoke to Women, 1930-1960, Jeanine Basinger calls it “a treatise on the horrors of womanhood.” Although she acknowledges the film as a “charming, escapist musical…,” she also points out that “the impeccably turned-out Powell, doted on by everyone, was a cruel role model for young women in the audience.”” (Frank Miller). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (Nicholas Brodszky and Sammy Cahn for “Wonder Why”). Slightly darkened at the edges else a near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1950. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated September 26, 1950 with inserted page revisions dated as late as October 12, 1950. A near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1952. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘MIMEOGRAPH COPY,’ ‘VAULT COPY,’ and ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated October 20, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was April 1, 1954]. Screenplay written by Ronald Miller and George Froeschel, based on the operetta Rose Marie by Otto A. Harbach and Oscar Hammerstein II. Songs in the production include: “Indian Love Call,” “Rose Marie,” “Song Of The Mounties” and “Totem Tom Tom” (all with music by Rudolf Friml, and lyrics by Otto A. Harbach and Oscar Hammerstein II); “The Right Place For The Girl,” “Free To Be Free” and “I Have The Love” (all with music by Rudolf Friml and lyrics Paul Francis Webster); and “I’m The Mountie Who Never Got His Man” (with music by George Stoll and lyrics by Herbert Baker). Produced and directed by Mervyn LeRoy, with choreography by Busby Berkeley, the movie stars Ann Blyth, Howard Keel, Fernando Lamas, Bert Lahr, Marjorie Main, Joan Taylor, Ray Collins and Chief Yowlachie. “In the woods of Canada, Sgt. Mike Malone of the Royal Canadian Mounties tracks down a young French Canadian woman, Rose Marie Lemaitre, and tells her he promised her late father he would take her to Fort Macroy. After attempting to flee, Rose Marie begs Mike to let her remain in the wilderness that has always been her home, but he maintains that the rough life of the woods is not suitable for a girl. Mike introduces Rose Marie to the other men that night at dinner, but when she rebelliously dumps a bowl of soup on his head and bites him, Mike locks her in the brig, under the supervision of the hapless Barney McCorkle, the oldest corporal in the Mounties. Gradually, however, Rose Marie settles into her new life with the Mounties and develops an affection for Mike. One day, Inspector Appleby comes to review Mike’s troops, and is appalled to find Rose Marie in uniform. Appleby upbraids Mike for letting a woman live with the Mounties, and Mike admits he has only ever thought of Rose Marie as a child. Appleby proposes that Rose Marie be sent to live with his cousin in Maple Rock, but she refuses to give up her freedom to live like a lady, and runs away. Mike goes after her and explains that she is becoming a beautiful woman and will someday be interested in men. While riding back to the fort, Mike and Rose Marie encounter renegade trapper James Severn Duval, and Rose Marie is attracted to him at once. Mike takes Rose Marie to the Northern Lights Hotel in Maple Rock, and delivers her into the care of bawdy proprietress Lady Jane Dunstock. Jane treats Rose Marie like a daughter and gives her lessons in dressing and behaving like a young lady. One day, Rose Marie sees James in the street and invites him to a dance that evening. James then visits an Indian village, where he is greeted by Wanda, a pretty young woman who is in love with him. James calls on Chief Black Eagle, who frowns on the white man’s friendship with Wanda, and gives him the money the chief requested the previous year for a piece of land on the river. When Black Eagle tells him the price of the land has now doubled, James angrily vows to return with the money. That night, James steals the money collected at the dance, but when Rose Marie tells him the money was for charity, he gives it back. Late that night, Rose Marie sneaks away to the woods and finds James, and they begin to fall in love. James returns to Black Eagle and proposes that the chief give him the land in exchange for half of the mineral rights, but Black Eagle refuses. Mike is waiting outside when James leaves the chief’s tent, and warns him to stay away from Rose Marie. Mike later calls on Rose Marie and proposes. Rose Marie confesses she has never thought of him romantically, but Mike kisses her and urges her to consider his offer. That evening, James climbs up to Rose Marie’s balcony and takes her to the Indian Totem Festival of Summer. While watching the native dancing, they share a passionate kiss under Wanda’s jealous glare. James brings Rose Marie home and tells her he must go away to resume his trapping, and asks her to accompany him. James then retires to his shack near Jane’s house, unaware that Wanda has followed him from the Indian village. Wanda creeps in and is about to stab James with his own knife when Rose Marie comes in to say she will meet James at his camp the following day. James tells Rose Marie that if she changes her mind about going away with him, she is to signal him by singing the Indian love song. When Wanda returns to the village that night, Black Eagle angrily begins to whip her, and she stabs him, then flees in horror. The Mounties are called in to investigate, and when Mike shows Rose Marie the knife used to kill the chief, she recognizes it as James’s. To protect James, Rose Marie rides to the woods and tearfully sings the Indian love song to send him away. James is captured by the Indians, however, and Mike arrives just as they are starting to burn him at the stake. Mike rescues James and arrests him for murder, and the trapper is convicted and sentenced to hang. Rose Marie pleads with Mike to intervene, declaring her love for James and faith in his innocence. Although he is crushed by this revelation, Mike re-examines the case, and when he and Barney find an Indian love ring among James’s effects, they suspect a jealous lover. Mike confronts Wanda and tricks her into confessing, and James is set free. For his help in solving the crime, Barney is at last promoted to sergeant. After James’s release, the grateful Rose Marie tells Mike she will do anything he wishes. Mike tells Rose Marie to put on her buckskins and go for a ride with him. In the wilderness, he tells Rose Marie she was not meant to be confined in a town, and sends her off to be with James.” (Charles Bates). A near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 22, 1937 [the movie’s U.S. release date was March 4, 1938]. Screenplay written by Harry Tugend and Jack Yellen, based on a story by Don Ettlinger and Karl Tunberg adapted from the play by Eddie Dowling and Cyrus Wood. Songs in the production include: “Sweet As A Song” and “Got My Mind On Music” (both with music and lyrics by Mack Gordon and Harry Revel); and “I Could Use A Dream” and “Half Moon On The Hudson” (both with music by Harold Spina and lyrics by Walter Bullock). Produced by Gene Markey and directed by William A. Seiter, the movie stars Alice Faye, Tony Martin, Fred Allen, Jimmy Durante, Gregory Ratoff, Joan Davis, Marjorie Weaver and Gypsy Rose Lee. “Three manicurists hope to become entertainers through the auspices of their wisecracking agent (Fred Allen). Sally (Alice Faye) is the smart one, Irene (Joan Davis) the funny one, and Mary (Marjorie Weaver) the cute-and-innocent one. The girls secure work in a Greenwich village nitery, where Sally falls for star singer Tony Martin. The threesome’s career becomes stalled until Mary inherits an old ferry boat, which she converts into a floating nightclub. Among the highlights of Sally, Irene and Mary is a jitterbug number by Joan Davis and supporting appearances by Jimmy Durante and Gypsy Rose Lee (billed under her real name, Louise Hovick). The film was based on a non-musical play by Eddie Dowling and Cyril Rood, previously filmed in 1925.” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: The House of Seven Sweethearts. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1942. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated February 18, 1942 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 13, 1942]. Screenplay written by Walter Reisch and Leo Townsend, based on the play Seven Sisters by Ferenc Herczeg. Songs in the production include: “Tulip Time” (music by Burton Lane and lyrics by Ralph Freed); “America The Beautiful” (music by Samuel A. Ward and lyrics by Katherine Lee Bates); “Mozart’s Cradle Song” (music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart); “Sobre las Olas (Over the Waves)” (music by Juventino Rosas); “Rock-a-Bye Baby” (music and lyrics by Effie I. Canning); “You And The Waltz And I” and “Little Tangle Toes” (both with music by Walter Jurmann and lyrics by Paul Francis Webster); and “Je Suis Titania” (from Mignon with music by Ambroise Thomas and lyrics by Jules Barbier and Michel Carré). Produced by Frank Borzage and Joe Pasternak and directed by Frank Borzage, the movie stars Kathryn Grayson, Marsha Hunt, Cecilia Parker, Peggy Moran, Dorothy Morris, Frances Rafferty, Frances Raeburn, Van Heflin, Carl Esmond, Michael Butler, Cliff Danielson, William Roberts, James Warren, Dick Simmons, S.Z. Sakall, Diana Lewis, Lewis Howard, Isobel Elsom, Donald Meek and Louise Beavers. Reviewing the movie on November 13, 1942, the New York Times noted: “Having chaperoned the career of Deanna Durbin at Universal, producer Joseph Pasternak is now doing the same for Kathryn Grayson and MGM in Seven Sweethearts. Miss Grayson, let it be confirmed at once, is in top form as a little Dutch girl with a voice, but Mr. Pasternak has slipped a trifle. The story of an old burgher and his seven marriageable daughters living in a transplanted Dutch community in Michigan is told in Mr. Pasternak’s usual light-handed style, but sometimes its charm becomes simple coyness. More than once the story gets out of hand and its quaintness turns stilted and foolish. Mr. Pasternak has been confused between the gossamer and the threadbare. Briefly, it is the account of the big-city reporter who arrives for the village’s annual tulip festival and puts up at an inn tended by seven sisters under the benevolent tyranny of the father, otherwise S.Z. Sakall of the childlike hands and the jiggling jowls. By a family tradition, none can marry until the oldest daughter is wed, and so, while the impatient younger sisters wait, the reporter is subjected to the wiles of the oldest, a silly, posturing girl with her eye on the stage. Unfortunately for family tradition, the reporter falls in love with the youngest, thus requiring a new precedent in the family rules. It is difficult with a stubborn old Dutch burgher standing his ground, but it is managed. As usual, along the way Mr. Pasternak, his authors and director Frank Borzage have found ample space for a charming production number in which the village women scrub the streets and several occasions for appropriate singing by Miss Grayson, who warbles sweetly through “You and a Waltz and I” and “Little Tingle Tangle Toes.” Van Heflin as the love-struck reporter escapes the tired ennui of his previous roles long enough to smile and make love in fine style. Mr. Sakall is again a silly and lovable old cartoon and all the sisters are competently winsome with the exception of Marsha Hunt as the stage-bent sister. In short, call it a mild little musical on a pretty fairy-tale theme.” Wrappers faded and stained at the edges, else a very good copy.

Originally titled: Miss Pilgrim's Progress. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1941. First Draft Continuity Pre-Production Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 12, 1941 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 4, 1947]. Screenplay written and adapted by George Seaton from a story by Ernest Maas and Frederica Sagor Maas. Songs in the production include “Stand Up And Fight”; “Aren’t You Kinda Glad We Did?”; “The Back Bay Polka”; “One, Two, Three”; “Waltzing Is Better Sitting Down”; “Demon Rum”; “For You, For Me, For Evermore”; “Sweet Packard”; and “Changing My Tune” (all with music by George Gershwin and lyrics by Ira Gershwin). Produced by William Perlberg and directed by George Seaton (and an uncredited Edmund Goulding), the movie stars Betty Grable, Dick Haymes, Anne Revere, Allyn Joslyn, Gene Lockhart, Elizabeth Patterson, Elizabeth Risdon, Arthur Shields, Charles Kemper, Roy Roberts and Marilyn Monroe. “Cynthia Pilgrim is the top student of the first graduating class of the Packard Business College in New York City, and as such she is offered a position with the Pritchard Shipping Company in Boston. There she finds an office of men overseen by office manager Mr. Saxon. When Cynthia introduces herself to company co-owner John Pritchard, he tells her he thought all expert typists were male and his policy is to hire only men. Cynthia asks for an opportunity to prove she’s as efficient as her male counterparts, but John refuses and offers her train fare back to New York. John’s aunt Alice, an avowed suffragette, has controlling interest in the company and insists Cynthia be given a chance. Cynthia finds accommodations at Catherine Dennison’s boarding house, where she meets an eclectic group of tenants, including poet Leander Woolsey, artist Michael Michael, and musician Herbert Jothan. John invites Cynthia to dinner but she prefers not to socialize with her employer. She does allow him to escort her to one of his aunt’s rallies, where she impresses the other women. When John’s mother asks her to dine with them on the evening of the Regimental Ball, Cynthia feels she won’t fit in with the woman’s social circle, so her rooming house companions coach her on how to behave like a snob. Cynthia is delighted to discover their efforts were unnecessary, because Mrs. Pritchard proves to be down-to-earth and a supporter of Cynthia’s desire to be treated equally in the workplace. John begins to date Cynthia, and eventually they become engaged. He tries to persuade her to give up her involvement in the suffrage movement, but she insists she cannot abandon such a worthy cause. They break their engagement and she is fired from her job, but none of the people hired to replace her please Mr. Saxon. He and John go to a local school to find yet another candidate for the position. There he discovers its general manager is Cynthia, and the two are reunited in business as well as in love. In 1941, husband-and-wife screenwriting team Ernest Maas and Frederica Sagor collaborated on Miss Pilgrim’s Progress, a story about a young woman who enters the business world by demonstrating the newly invented typewriter in the window of a Wall Street establishment. When she tries to fend off the unwanted advances of one of the firm’s clerks, her employer comes to her rescue but is killed when he falls down the stairs in the ensuing altercation. Abigail Pilgrim becomes the focus of a murder trial that attracts widespread coverage by the media and the attention of Susan B. Anthony when the concept of women working in offices comes under fire. Acting as their agent, Paul Kohner brought the story to several studios. RKO and MGM expressed some interest, but both eventually passed. Twentieth Century-Fox finally purchased the screen rights, but the outline remained filed away until Darryl F. Zanuck, searching for material for Betty Grable, remembered it and decided to tailor it to his leading lady’s talents. After it underwent several rewrites, Zanuck assigned the task of whipping the screenplay into shooting shape to George Seaton, who would also direct. Ira Gershwin sorted through songs he and his brother George had written but never used and selected eleven for the film’s musical numbers. Frederica Sagor was unhappy with the tunes and later observed, “Not even if they had scraped the very bottom of the barrel could they have come up with something so unmelodious.” Displeased with the treatment her and her husband’s original story was given, she called the end result “another stupid boy-meets-girl Zanuck travesty.”” (Charles Bates). A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: Miss Pilgrim's Progress. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1941. Temporary Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 1, 1941. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1945. Revised Final Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 8, 1945. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1945. Revised Final Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 8, 1945. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1945. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 1, 1945. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1947. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated January 6, 1947. Moderately worn, else a very good copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1951. Dialogue Cutting Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated June 19, 1951 [the movie’s U.S. release date was September 24, 1951]. Screenplay written by John Lee Mahin, adapted from Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II’s musical play of the same name, which in turn was based on Edna Ferber’s novel also of the same name. Produced by Arthur Freed and directed by George Sidney, the movie stars Kathryn Grayson, Ava Gardner, Howard Keel, Joe E. Brown, Marge Champion, Gower Champion, Robert Sterling, Agnes Moorehead, Leif Erickson and William Warfield. Songs in the production include: “Cotton Blossom”; “Where’s The Mate For Me?”; “Make Believe”; “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man”; “I Might Fall Back On You”; “Ol’ Man River”; “You Are Love”; “Why Do I Love You?”; and “Life Upon The Wicked Stage” (all with music by Jerome Kern and lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II); “Bill” (with music by Jerome Kern and lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II and P.G. Wodehouse); “Mis’ry’s Comin’ Round”, “C’mon Folks” and “Cakewalk” (all with music by Jerome Kern); and “After The Ball” (with music and lyrics by Charles Harris). “With its 1951 remake of Show Boat, MGM added color and the genius of Arthur Freed’s production unit to one of the greatest musicals of all time, a pioneering work in the integration of song and story. The production set new standards for on-screen opulence, including the use of the largest and most expensive prop in film history, the 170-foot-long, 57-foot-high Cotton Blossom paddle wheeler. MGM bought the rights to Show Boat in 1938, two years after the Universal version with Irene Dunne, Allan Jones, Helen Morgan and Paul Robeson premiered. Originally, they had hoped to star their own singing screen team, Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy, but as the box-office returns on the pair’s films waned, those plans were dropped. Producer Arthur Freed maintained his interest in a new film version nonetheless. In 1946, MGM financed a Broadway revival of the show. Then Freed included a lengthy medley of songs from it in his 1947 musical biography of composer Jerome Kern, Till the Clouds Roll By. Still, it would take another five years to get the show back on the screen. One of the problems was the book. Freed felt that it suffered from a lack of narrative interest. Turning to writer John Lee Mahin for help, he finally decided that the story covered too much time. The show’s lovers, Gaylord and Magnolia, were kept apart for decades and only reunited as senior citizens (in Edna Ferber’s original novel, they never got back together at all). Mahin restructured the story so that they were reunited while still young enough to enjoy a long life together. He also made Gaylord, the gambler turned actor turned gambler again, a more active, heroic character in the mold of the roles he had written for Clark Gable in such films as Red Dust (1932) and Test Pilot (1938). For the leads, Freed cast Kathryn Grayson and Howard Keel, two classically trained singers who had already established a name for themselves in MGM’s slate of musicals. To play Joe, the ship’s hand who sings “Ol’ Man River,” Freed’s musical assistant, Roger Edens, discovered the young classical singer William Warfield, who had never sung a popular song before. Originally, Freed wanted to beef up the role of Julie, the mulatto torch singer, as a vehicle for Judy Garland. When she was fired from MGM in 1950, however, they had to look elsewhere. Studio head Dore Schary promised the role to Dinah Shore, but Freed convinced her that the public would never accept her as a woman who turns to prostitution. Lena Horne was perfect for the role, but at the time her musical numbers were still being cut from films in some southern states. Instead, director George Sidney suggested Ava Gardner and shot a test of her performing to a recording of Horne singing “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man of Mine.” Gardner wasn’t really interested in the role until she decided that she could sing the songs herself. Edens coached her endlessly on the numbers, which she recorded, imitating Horne’s earlier renditions. Just for insurance, they also recorded the numbers with Annette Warren, who had dubbed for Gardner in the past. Julie’s numbers were among the first shot for the film, and for months executives couldn’t decide whether to use Gardner’s voice or the professional singer’s. Finally, after a less-than-successful preview, they settled on Warren’s vocals, which then had to be re-recorded to match Gardner’s on-screen performance. For the soundtrack album, they recorded the tracks with Lena Horne, who was forced to imitate Gardner’s performance. Then the legal department informed the studio that they couldn’t use Gardner’s name and image on the album cover without including her on the recording. So Gardner did a new version of the songs, imitating Horne imitating Gardner imitating Horne. With careful tweaking in the recording studio, her vocals actually came out quite well, and she collected a royalty on the soundtrack for the rest of her life. Originally, the scenes involving the Cotton Blossom were to have been shot on location on the Mississippi. When production was scheduled for the early winter, however, designer Jack Martin Smith figured out a way to use the studio’s Tarzan Jungle Lake as the river, with the Natchez port built along its shore. He then designed the massive ship, complete with 19 1/2-foot paddle wheels and two curving staircases leading to a staging area on the front deck, for a cost of $125,000. The ship included engines to operate the paddles and produce enough steam to flow from the smokestacks and power a calliope. When the smoke engines almost burned the ship down during filming, it had to be re-constructed for an additional $67,000. As impressive as the Cotton Blossom was, it was also the film’s major historical inaccuracy. The original show boats, which began carrying entertainment to U.S. river towns in 1817, were actually barges without any engines of their own. They required tugboats to pull them from town to town. To operate paddlewheels like those on the film’s Cotton Blossom would have required massive engines that would have left no room for the ship’s indoor theatre. Fortunately for MGM, historians represent only a fraction of the movie audience. Show Boat brought in almost $9 million at the box office on an investment of $2.3 million. For years, the studio maintained the Cotton Blossom as an attraction for visitors. When owner Kirk Kerkorian auctioned off MGM’s properties and costumes in the early ‘70s, the ship was sold to the Worlds of Fun amusement park in Kansas City, where it stood in a large pond until a few years ago, when the pond was drained and the Cotton Blossom torn apart by bulldozers. But at least the ship lives on in screenings of Show Boat as William Warfield sings an eternal paean to “Ol’ Man River.”” (Frank Miller). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the categories of Best Cinematography, Color (Charles Rosher), and Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Adolph Deutsch and Conrad Salinger). ‘MARKED DUBLIN’ has been written in holograph green pencil in an unknown hand at the top of the front cover, and parts of the script have holograph edits in green pencil in the margins indicating which scenes were not to be shown in the Republic of Ireland, the front wrapper is also foxed, with some traces of green ink to the rear wrapper; internally the script is near fine.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 15, 1937 [the movie’s U.S. release date was June 18, 1937]. Screenplay written by Lou Breslow, Ben Markson and John Patrick. Songs in the production include “Pickles”, “What A Beautiful Beginning”, “Travelin’ Light” and “Sing And Be Happy” (all with music by Harry Akst and lyrics by Sidney Clare). Produced by Milton Field and directed by James Tinling, the movie stars Tony Martin, Leah Ray, Joan Davis, Helen Westley, Allan Lane, Dixie Dunbar and Chick Chandler. “A strong-willed young man creates a rift with his father when he turns down a safe position in the family business and becomes a traveling musician. Eventually he returns to his father’s ad agency to settle down, but he proves to be a trouble maker. When he falls in love with the daughter of his father’s biggest professional rival and both companies start fighting over a lucrative pickle account, things really turn topsy-turvy.” (Sandra Brennan). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1936. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 7, 1936 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 21, 1936]. Screenplay written by Milton Sperling, Harry Tugend and Jack Yellen. Songs in the production include: “Sing, Baby, Sing” and “Love Will Tell” (with music and lyrics by Lew Pollack and Jack Yellen); “When Did You Leave Heaven?” (with music by Richard A. Whiting and lyrics by Walter Bullock); and “You Turned The Tables On Me” (with music and lyrics by Louis Alter and Sidney D. Mitchell). Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Sidney Lanfield, the movie stars Alice Faye, Adolphe Menjou, Gregory Ratoff, Ted Healy, Patsy Kelly, Michael Whalen, Al Ritz, Jimmy Ritz and Harry Ritz. “Twentieth Century-Fox, with delightful impudence and its tongue in its cheek, solemnly disclaims any factual basis for its new musical comedy, Sing, Baby, Sing, one of the most amusing pictures shown at the Roxy this year. As the film’s prologue insists, “any similarity with actual persons is not intentional, but purely coincidental.” Well, well! Of course, coincidence always has been a favorite plot device, so it may be sheer accident that Adolphe Menjou finds himself in the rôle of a temperamental and tippling Hollywood star who comes to New York on a vacation, develops a Romeo fixation, implores a night club singer to be his Juliet and finally – in the cold sober morn – flees across the continent with his Juliet in hot pursuit. This being a nonsensical situation, although no more ridiculous than the real-life incident on which it was not (let us remind you) based, Darryl Zanuck’s nimble company has developed it with keen relish for its absurdities and has entrusted its performance to a group of assorted comedians, clowns and madcaps. If Mr. Menjou’s satirical portrait of Caliban is not enough, you will find broader comedy in the efforts of Patsy Kelly, Gregory Ratoff and Ted Healy at their several best, and, when all else fails, in will barge the Ritz Brothers with their private brand of song-and-dance slapstick. The Ritzes, since we have mentioned them, prove to be a handy trio to have around. Ministers without portfolio to the Sing, Baby, Sing company, they dash on and off the screen without any real justification, but excuse their presence so cheerfully that we rather welcomed their intermittent escapes from their keepers. Conspicuous in their repertoire this time is their Jekyll-Hyde-Frankenstein number and an acrobatic-operatic aria at the film’s beginning. Still, it is the Romeo and Juliet theme which provides the picture’s merriest moments and permits us, once again, to enjoy Mr. Menjou in a comedy rôle. A dazed Romeo who remembers his lady only after being plied with bay rum (Mr. Ratoff calls it South American brandy), quoting Shakespeare in a hospital room and stamping about in an inadequate nightshirt and heavy woolen socks, cross-examining “Dr.” Healy on a nebulous appendicitis operation – in these and several other sequences Mr. Menjou is boisterously funny. The songs – for we cannot forget this is also a musical show – are fairly well-known by this time, courtesy of the radio companies, but it may be added that Alice Faye sings them well, even though she is a rather dull Ariel. Chief among the four are “When Did You Leave Heaven?” and “You Turned the Tables on Me.” A final word must be devoted to recognition of Tony Martin’s pleasant rendition of one song and of the consistently brisk direction of Sidney Lanfield.” (Frank S, Nugent, New York Times review of September 12, 1936). Lacking the spine with some chips and tears to the edges, else a very good copy of a rare and fragile script.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1952. Dialogue Cutting Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 17, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was April 11, 1952]. Screenplay written by Betty Comden and Adolph Green. Produced by Arthur Freed and directed by Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly, the movie stars Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor, Debbie Reynolds, Jean Hagen, Millard Mitchell, Cyd Charisse, Douglas Fowley and Rita Moreno. Songs in the production include: “Singin’ In The Rain”; “All I Do Is Dream Of You”; “Make ‘Em Laugh”; “I’ve Got A Feeling You’re Foolin’”; “The Wedding Of The Painted Doll”; “Should I?”; “Beautiful Girl”; “You Were Meant For Me”; “Good Morning”; “Would You”; “Broadway Rhythm, Ballet”; “You Are My Lucky Star”; and “Temptation” (all with music by Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics by Arthur Freed); “Fit As A Fiddle” (with music by Al Hoffman and Al Goodhart and lyrics by Arthur Freed); and “Moses” (with music by Roger Edens and lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green). “For many critics and fans, Singin’ in the Rain is simply the finest musical ever made. And they may be right. Everyone was at the top of their game on this film from the choreographers to the co-directors to the actors to the songwriters. Singin’ in the Rain epitomizes everything that made the musical genre such an exciting form of entertainment during the heyday of the studio era. It’s also a great cure for the blues. Take a look at Singin’ in the Rain and the clouds will disappear, every time. While the film is chock full of musical highlights, Gene Kelly’s “Singin’ in the Rain” number is the genuine showstopper. Regarding his immortal solo number, Kelly later commented, quite graciously and modestly, on what made the scene work so well: “The concept was so simple I shied away from explaining it to the brass at the studio in case I couldn’t make it sound worth doing. The real work for this one was done by the technicians who had to pipe two city blocks on the backlot with overhead sprays, and the poor cameraman who had to shoot through all that water. All I had to do was dance.” The technicians’ efforts are all the more remarkable since there was a severe water shortage in Culver City, California, the day the sequence was shot. Singin’ in the Rain rang up a final price tag of $2,540,800, $157,000 of which went to Walter Plunkett’s costumes alone. Although the final price overshot MGM’s budget by $665,000, the studio quickly realized the wisdom of their investment when the film made a $7.7 million return upon its initial release. Gene Kelly was at his peak in Singin’ in the Rain and not only poked fun at himself as a swashbuckling matinee idol but also served as co-director and choreographer with Stanley Donen during production. Kelly first made a name for himself in the film industry with Cover Girl (1944) in which he revolutionized the Hollywood musical with his innovative and free-flowing dance routines. He topped that success with an Oscar nomination for Best Actor in Anchors Aweigh (1945) but he really hit his stride with On the Town (1949), the first of three successful collaborations with director Stanley Donen. While there are many other high points in Kelly’s later career – An American in Paris (1951), It’s Always Fair Weather (1955), and Invitation to the Dance (1956) – Singin’ in the Rain will probably remain his signature film. Danny Peary, in his book Cult Movies, wrote “I believe that the secret to the picture’s greatness is that Kelly, the star, the co-director, willingly shared his picture with his co-stars. It is not by mere chance that Reynolds, O’Connor, and Hagen have never been better. True, Kelly takes many moments in the limelight, dancing up a storm and turning in a fine, self-parodying (hammy, conceited, smiling) comedic performance. Yet he allows Jean Hagen ample opportunity to walk away with the acting actors.” The role of the ditzy movie diva Lina Lamont was written with Judy Holliday in mind. Holliday was a close personal friend of Betty Comden and Adolph Green and the married couple even modeled the character on routines they had worked up with Holliday back when they were part of a satirical group called The Revuers in New York. But timing was everything and the idea of casting Holliday was vetoed after she hit it big in Born Yesterday (1950). Everyone figured she’d be uninterested in the supporting part but, as it turned out, the lovely Jean Hagen, Holliday’s understudy on Broadway for Born Yesterday, got the part. Debbie Reynolds was only 19 when she was cast as Kathy Selden in Singin’ in the Rain. Her relative inexperience in musicals concerned the MGM brass, but Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen convinced the executives that the pert young starlet could hold her ground. Reynolds always stated that Kelly and Donen really didn’t want her either because she was not a good enough dancer. But Donen maintains that the co-directors wanted her from the very beginning, even though Judy Garland and June Allyson were once considered as possibilities. Reynolds later remarked that she was “being thrown to the lions.” But since she was planning to be a gymnastics instructor, Reynolds was already a natural athlete, and a hard worker. She abandoned the physical fitness field though after being discovered by a talent agent at a beauty contest in Burbank, California. The character of Cosmo Brown, played by Donald O’Connor, was penned with songwriter and pianist Oscar Levant in mind. But once Gene Kelly became involved in the project, effectively turning the film from a strictly song-centered film to one that emphasized dancing, it was agreed that Donald O’Connor was a better mother was a tightrope walker) enabled him to bring an immeasurable athleticism to his part. But while O’Connor matched Gene Kelly step for step, he also suffered physically for his art, just like co-star Debbie Reynolds. For the “Make ‘em Laugh” number, Kelly asked O’Connor to revive a trick he had done as a young dancer, running up a wall and completing a somersault. The number was so physically taxing that O’Connor, who was smoking four packs of cigarettes a day at the time, went to bed for a week after its completion, suffering from exhaustion and painful carpet burns. Unfortunately, an accident ruined all of the initial footage so after a brief rest, O’Connor, ever the professional, agreed to do the difficult number all over again. Cyd Charisse, who plays Gene Kelly’s dancing partner in the “Broadway Ballet” number, had studied ballet in Los Angeles with Adolph Bolm and Bronislawa Nijinska, and then danced with Ballets Russes under the name of Siderova. After World War II, she was given a dancing role in Gregory Ratoff’s Something to Shout About (1943). This role brought her to the attention of choreographer Robert Alton and she was soon hired by Arthur Freed to be the resident ballet dancer at MGM. Singin’ in the Rain drew as much from past popular culture as it did from contemporary references and attitudes. Most of the songs were drawn from past musicals: “You Were Meant For Me” and “The Wedding of the Painted Doll,” were warbled in The Broadway Melody (1929), while “Good Morning” was crooned in Babes in Arms (1939). The title song first appeared in The Hollywood Revue of 1929, with MGM’s stable of stars decked out in raincoats, singing in unison to the tune. “All I Do Is Dream of You” was featured in Sadie McKee (1934); “Should I?” showed up in Lord Byron of Broadway (1930); “Beautiful Girl” was banged out by Bing Crosby in Going Hollywood (1933); “You Are My Lucky Star,” “Broadway Rhythm,” and “I’ve Got a Feelin’ You’re Foolin’” were all part of Broadway Melody of 1936 (1935); and “Would You” is from San Francisco (1936). “Make ‘em Laugh” shamelessly draws upon Cole Porter’s “Be a Clown,” which was featured in The Pirate (1948), also starring Gene Kelly. One of the popular favorites in Singin’ in the Rain is “Moses Supposes,” which was an original composition written by Betty Comden and Adolph Green. Just as Kelly and co-director Stanley Donen reused a huge repertoire of popular songs from earlier musicals, the duo also looted the MGM warehouses for props and vehicles. The car Debbie Reynolds drives at the beginning of the film was actually Andy Hardy’s old jalopy. The mansion in which Gene Kelly lives was decorated with tables, chairs, carpets and other items that were used for John Gilbert and Greta Garbo’s passionate romantic drama, Flesh and the Devil (1926). Even the costumes were based on old Hollywood styles. Costume designer Walter Plunkett devised Lina Lamont’s wardrobe by duplicating his own gown designs for silent screen star Lilyan Tashman, who was, according to Plunkett, “the epitome of chic at that time.” In addition, Kelly and Donen grilled MGM employees on their memories of the silent era. Some veterans on the set still remembered the problems of early sound recording, and the art directors actually unearthed filmmaking equipment from the past, including an “icebox” to house the sound camera from old specifications and designs. A neglected soundstage used during the silent era was also located and brought back into active service for the production. The song “Singin’ in the Rain” has been featured in many films, but it was Stanley Kubrick who made ironic use of the song in his bleak vision of a dystopian future, A Clockwork Orange (1971). Kubrick mulled for days over a way to shoot the scene where Alex (Malcolm McDowell) brutalizes a woman. Out of the blue, he turned to McDowell and asked, “Can you sing?” McDowell replied, “I only know one song,” and he started to do “Singin’ in the Rain.” Kubrick then left the room and called Warner Bros. in Hollywood to ask if he could obtain the rights to “Singin’ in the Rain.” He came back to the set an hour later and wryly told Adrienne Corri (cast as the rape/murder victim), “You’re playing the Debbie Reynolds part, Corri.” Coincidentally, Stanley Donen was in London at the time and not far from the location site for A Clockwork Orange. When Kubrick asked Donen for his opinion of this new use of the song, Donen surprisingly raised no objections. The “Broadway Ballet” sequence was partially based on an idea that was used for Du Barry Was a Lady (1943), starring Red Skelton as a nightclub worker who dreams that he’s King Louis XVI. Mae Clarke can be glimpsed as a hairdresser in Singin’ in the Rain. She was immortalized as the gun moll who gets a grapefruit in the kisser from James Cagney in The Public Enemy (1931). Like the character of Cosmo Brown in Singin’ in the Rain, producer Arthur Freed was once employed as a mood-music pianist who played on movie sets during the silent film era. Among his many musicals, Gene Kelly did not rank Singin’ in the Rain as his personal favorite. He always considered On the Town (1949) his best work. Kelly reportedly had a 103 degrees temperature when he filmed the famous title number and his drenched clothing certainly didn’t improve his condition. The rain, consisting of water and a touch of milk, also caused Kelly’s wool suit to shrink. Ironically, Debbie Reynolds’ voice was dubbed by Betty Royce for the scenes where Reynolds’ character dubs Lina Lamont’s singing and speaking voice. And in one scene where Kathy Selden (Debbie Reynolds) is dubbing Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen), Hagen is actually dubbing Reynolds dubbing Hagen on screen for just one line. At R.F. Simpson’s house party where a demonstration of the new ‘talking’ picture is first shown, there is a mysterious movie star couple slinking around the sidelines, dressed to the nines. That couple is a caricature of two silent film superstars, the actor being an amalgamation of John Gilbert and Rudolph Valentino, while the exotic vamp may be a spoof of Gloria Swanson, Greta Garbo, and Pola Negri. Other references to old Hollywood in Singin’ in the Rain include Cyd Charisse’s hair style, which resembles Louise Brooks’ famous bob, and Charisse’s gangster boyfriend, who flips a coin like George Raft did in Scarface, Shame of a Nation (1932). Don Lockwood’s (Gene Kelly) laughable dialogue in the disastrous preview of the all-talking “The Dueling Cavalier” is based on fact. The sad decline of silent screen idol John Gilbert was hastened by a similar situation in one of his early sound films – Redemption (1930) which features equally lame dialogue. John Gilbert is referred to again in Singin’ in the Rain, when Don Lockwood disparages Kathy’s “acting” at the Hollywood party by asking if she’s going to do the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet. It was in MGM’s early talkie, The Hollywood Revue of 1929, that Gilbert performed that very scene with Norma Shearer. Director Stanley Donen has always felt that the title, Singin’ in the Rain, was something of a misnomer since the story has nothing to do with the weather, and everything to do with Tinseltown. He thinks it should have been called Hollywood. In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Gene Kelly’s father had once worked as a phonograph record salesman but lost his job due to the declining record market, which had been adversely affected by the rising popularity of radio and talking pictures. While Singin’ in the Rain was being filmed on MGM’s Culver City lot, there was another movie in production which focused on the film industry – The Bad and the Beautiful (1952). The Vincente Minnelli melodrama was being filmed simultaneously on a nearby soundstage. In first conceiving the movie, MGM producer Arthur Freed decided to make a “catalogue” picture, a musical sub-genre often based on a catalogue of music from a single songwriting source. In the case of Singin’ in the Rain, the source was Nacio Herb Brown and Freed himself (the producer had been a songwriter before producing films). Betty Comden and Adolph Green were commissioned to write a musical that would build upon Freed and Brown’s extensive oeuvre of musical tunes. After being hired, Comden and Green decided that Hollywood during the ‘Roaring Twenties’ – the era of flappers, pinstripes, and early jalopies – would be the perfect setting for the film. They first thought about remaking Bombshell (1933), a satire about tinsel town starring Jean Harlow, with Howard Keel, one of the leading baritones on the screen, as the star. In fact, they toyed with the idea of having Keel play a two-bit western actor who becomes a singing cowboy. But this idea was abandoned after Gene Kelly expressed an interest in the project. The idea of having the main character, Don Lockwood (played by Kelly), break into the motion picture business by performing stunts on movies has a kernel of truth to it. Most of the early stuntmen came from professions other than the movies, such as the rodeo circuit or the nascent aviation industry. Admittedly, not many of the stuntmen came from a musical background like Gene Kelly’s character does in Singin’ in the Rain. However, many established movie stars, such as Douglas Fairbanks Sr. and Buster Keaton, were known for their ability to perform daring stunts that even the most experienced professional stuntman would hesitate to perform. The original idea for a spectacular, pull-out-the-stops climax was not the “Broadway Ballet” sequence which is a highlight of Singin’ in the Rain but an extravagant musical number set in the Wild West with Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O’Connor traveling across the plains in a covered wagon. The trio of piano playing pioneers would be attacked by Indians, somehow managing to save their own scalps by diverting their captors with the universal language of music and dance... at least, until the cavalry arrived to save the day. Fortunately, this idea was scrapped in favor of the superior “Broadway Ballet” sequence. Jean Hagen’s hilarious performance as Lina Lamont, the glamorous “Queen of the Silent Screen” whose voice unfortunately sounds like chalk on a blackboard, was not enough to win her an Academy Award (she lost out that year to Gloria Grahame for the same studio’s The Bad and the Beautiful). That Oscar might have proven the shot in the arm Hagen appeared to need in her film career. A versatile actress who could switch with ease from musical comedy to drama (The Asphalt Jungle, 1950), she never again got the great opportunity afforded her in Singin’ in the Rain. After several minor film roles and a three-year stint on TV’s The Danny Thomas Show, she made her final movie appearance in Dead Ringer (1964) and died at age 54 in 1977. Two other female performers were luckier in building on their success in Singin’ in the Rain. The movie elevated Debbie Reynolds to full-fledged MGM stardom after small roles in such musicals as Three Little Words (1950) and Two Weeks With Love (1950). An inexperienced dancer when she began making Singin’ in the Rain, Reynolds had to drive herself mercilessly to keep up with hard-driving co-stars Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor. She recalled later that after one strenuous number, she had to be carried to her dressing room because she had burst blood vessels in her feet. Cyd Charisse lucked into her small but star-making role in the film when O’Connor was not available for the climactic “Broadway Melody Ballet,” providing an opening for a female dance partner for Kelly. Charisse had been hovering on the edge of stardom at MGM for some years. The unforgettable moment, when one of those long legs shot up with Kelly’s hat balanced on her foot, turned the trick. Within a year Charisse was starring in her first musical lead in The Band Wagon (1953), opposite ideal partner Fred Astaire. Ironically, in view of the fact that many feel Singin’ in the Rain is the greatest of all screen musicals, it won only one other Oscar nomination – for Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Lennie Hayton). It lost to Alfred Newman’s score for With a Song in My Heart.” (Scott McGee, Roger Fristoe & Jeff Stafford). ‘DUBLIN’ has been written in holograph green pencil on the upper front cover in an unknown hand, with the pins taped to the upper rear wrapper, else a near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1952. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT,’ ‘VAULT COPY’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated May 14, 1952 with inserted page revisions dated as late as June 12, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was on April 10, 1953]. Screenplay written by Dorothy Cooper and Dorothy Kingsley, based on a story by Dorothy Cooper. Songs in the production include: “I’ve Gotta Hear That Beat,” “My Gaucho,” “Take Me To Broadway” and “My Flaming Heart” (all with music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Leo Robin). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by László Kardos, the movie stars Jane Powell, Farley Granger, Ann Miller, S.Z. Sakall, Robert Keith, Bobby Van, Billie Burke, Fay Wray, Nat ‘King’ Cole, Dean Miller, William Campbell, Philip Tonge, Jonathan Cott, Bobby Hyatt, Rudy Lee, Beverly Wills, Gloria Noble, Jane Liddell, Nancy Valentine, Chill Wills, Janet Stewart, Pegi McIntire and Virginia Hall. In his autobiography Include Me Out: My Life From Goldwyn to Broadway, Farley Granger reminisces of his time spent filming Small Town Girl: “Charlie Feldman had been busy. He had gotten me the lead in a musical, Small Town Girl, for the Joe Pasternak unit at Metro. The most prestigious musical unit at the studio was headed by Arthur Freed, but Pasternak had done his share of good and successful films. This was a remake of an old Janet Gaynor/Robert Taylor movie about a rich playboy and a small-town girl. I was the playboy who, while having an affair with a jazzy showgirl played by Ann Miller, gets a speeding ticket driving through a small town and is put in jail, where I meet and fall for an all-American girl played by Jane Powell. My mother was played by Billie Burke. S.Z. (Cuddles) Sakall and a terrific young dancer, Bobby Van, were also in the film. Pasternak had assigned his brother-in-law, whose name was Lazlo Kardos, Americanized to Leslie Kardos, as the director. The cameraman was Joe Ruttenberg, one of the most highly esteemed cinematographers in town. The famous, or infamous, choreographer Busby Berkeley did Ann’s dance numbers. I adored Billie Burke and could listen to her stories about her husband, “Mr. Ziegfeld,” as she always called him, and the Broadway stage for hours on end. Annie Miller and I got along like two kindred souls. She wore a fake nose, the result of a bad nose job, and she would always say to me, “Don’t make me laugh or I’ll flip my nose!” At around 5:00 or 6:00 p.m. every afternoon, when the ravages of a long day began to show on everyone’s makeup, Annie would touch her loosening nose and say: “Oh, oh… Shangri-la time.” I could barely get through any scenes with S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall. His endless repertoire of Viennese shtick never failed to bring me to the point of breaking up. I never felt that Jane Powell and I connected on the film. She was pregnant and having a difficult time. We could never lock in the shooting schedule since we never knew if she was going to show up. Annie had two wonderful dance numbers, one of which, “I’ve Gotta Hear That Beat,” became a classic, and Bobby also had two terrific numbers. In retrospect, they should have been the stars of the movie. One morning when we were almost finished, the director failed to show up. Nobody was ever told why. I think he had a nervous breakdown. He had been getting a little twitchy. Nobody knew what to do, and nobody from the front office knew what we were to do. Since the remaining scenes involved just Ann and me, and we had spent a lot of time working on them, I went to Joe and told him that Annie and I had them down cold. I suggested we just shoot them and finish the film so we could all go home. With no fanfare that’s what we did and no member of management ever said a word.” The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (for “My Flaming Heart” with music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Leo Robin). A near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1940. First Draft Continuity Pre-Production Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 9, 1940 [the movie’s U.S. release date was February 5, 1942]. Screenplay written by Robert Ellis, Helen Logan, Robert Pirosh and Joseph Schrank. Songs in the production include: “Song Of The Islands” (music and lyrics by Charles E. King); “Down On Ami Ami Oni Oni Isle”; “Sing Me A Song Of The Islands”; “Maluna Malolo Mawaena (Hawaiian Drinking Song)”; “What’s Buzzin’ Cousin?” “O’Brien Has Gone Hawaiian”; and “Blue Shadows And White Gardenias” (all with music and lyrics by Mack Gordon and Harry Owens); “Hawaiian War Chant (Ta-Hu-Wa-Hu-Wai)” (original music and lyrics by Prince Leleiohaku, with modified music by Johnny Noble and modified lyrics by Ralph Freed); “Home On The Range” (music by Daniel E. Kelly and lyrics by Brewster M. Higley, with special lyrics by Mack Gordon, Harry Owens and Sol Hoopii Jr.); “Cockeyed Mayor Of Kaunakakai” (music by R. Alex Anderson and lyrics by R. Alex Anderson and Albert Stillman); “The Lily Of Killarney” (music by Michael William Balfe); “Cannibal Chant” (music and lyrics by Satini Puailoa); and “Hu’l Mai” (music and lyrics by Sol Hoopii Jr.). “In this musical comedy, native Hawaiians on the island of Ami-Oni have accepted Dennis O’Brien (Thomas Mitchell) and his beautiful daughter, Eileen (Betty Grable), as one of their own. When Eileen returns to the island after being away at school, a grand luau is planned, and surprise guest Jeffrey Harper (Victor Mature) arrives by boat. The handsome Harper, son of a local cattle baron, immediately falls hard for the luscious Eileen. The match seems a sure thing until Jeff and Eileen get caught up in their family’s quarrels – the elder Harper thinks the O’Briens are gold diggers while Mr. O’Brien is steadfast in his refusal to sell his land to the Harpers, who he believes have no consideration for the natives. Grable, especially when showing off her world-famous gams in a grass skirt during an extended song-and-dance routine, provides the most enjoyment in this pleasurable Technicolor voyage.” (Charles Bates). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1941. Final Draft Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 13, 1941. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1941. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 17, 1941. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1942. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated June 11, 1942 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 6, 1942]. Screenplay written by Walter Bullock and Ken Englund, adapted by Jacques Théry from a story by Philip Wylie. Songs in the production include: “Run, Little Raindrop, Run”; “I Had The Craziest Dream”; “Chattanooga Choo Choo”; “A Poem Set To Music”; and “Pan American Jubilee” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Serenade In Blue”; “I, Yi, Yi, Yi, Yi (I Like You Very Much)”; “Chica Chica Boom Chic”; and “At Last” (all with music by Harry Warren); “Two O’Clock Jump” (written by Count Basie, Benny Goodman and Harry James); “You Made Me Love You (I Didn’t Want To Do It)” (music by James V. Monaco); “Sleepy Lagoon” (music by Eric Coates); “Ciribiribin” (music by A. Pestalozza). Produced by William LeBaron and directed by Irving Cummings, the movie stars Betty Grable, Carmen Miranda, John Payne, Cesar Romero, Charlotte Greenwood, Edward Everett Horton and Harry James. “A musical remake of the 1936 comedy Second Honeymoon and the starring debut of Betty Grable, Springtime in the Rockies tells the not-unfamiliar story of Vicky Lane (Grable), a Broadway dancer despairing over the tardiness of her partner Dan Christy (John Payne) who, as it turns out, has instead been busily engaged in a bit of extracurricular activities with socialite Marilyn Crothers (Trudy Marshall). In disgust, Vicky teams up with a former partner, Victor Prince (Cesar Romero), and leaves for the great outdoors while Dan attempts to go on without her. Unfortunately, the Commissioner (Jackie Gleason), Dan’s harried agent, can only find backing for a new show if Dan and Vicky reunite and soon everyone, including ditzy secretary Rosita Murphy (Carmen Miranda) and Dan’s flibbertigibbet valet McTavish (Edward Everett Horton), descends on the Canadian resort of Lake Louise where Harry James and His Music Makers make their headquarter. The usual complications arise but McTavish suddenly inherits a handsome sum of money and agrees to back a new show starring Vicky and Dan, Victor and Rosita, and the ubiquitous Harry James. Betty Grable performs “Ciribiribin” and other popular selections, Carmen Miranda makes mincemeat of “Chattanooga Choo Choo” (in Portuguese, no less!), while band vocalist Helen Forrest and the Music Makers take care of the film’s hit tune, Harry Warren and Mack Gordon’s “I Had the Craziest Dream”.” (Hans J. Wollstein). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1952. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 7, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was December 22, 1952]. Screenplay written by Lamar Trotti based on a story by Ernest Vajda adapted from John Philip Sousa’s book Marching Along. Songs in the production include: “Semper Fidelis”; “The Washington Post”; “Oh, Why Should The Spirit Of Mortal Be Proud?”; “Presidential Polonaise”; “The Stars And Stripes Forever”; and “The Thunderer” (all with music by John Philip Sousa); “My Love Is A Weeping Willow” (music by John Philip Sousa and lyrics by Ken Darby); “El Capitan” (music by John Philip Sousa and lyrics by Charles Klein); “Father’s Got ‘Em!” (written by Harry Wincott); “Hail To The Chief” (music by James Sanderson); “Sweet Marie” (music by Raymond Moore and lyrics by Cy Warman; “(I Wish I Was In) Dixie’s Land” (music by Daniel Decatur Emmett); “The Battle Hymn Of The Republic” (music by William Steffe and lyrics by Julia Ward Howe); “When It’s Springtime In New York” (music by Alfred Newman and lyrics by Ken Darby); “The Bowery” (music by Percy Gaunt and lyrics by Charles Hale Hoyt); “I’m Afraid” (music by Alfred Newman and lyrics by Lester O’Keefe); “A Hot Time In The Old Town” (music by Theo. A. Metz and lyrics by Joe Hayden); and “The Sidewalks Of New York” (music by Charles Lawlor). Produced by Lamar Trotti and directed by Henry Koster, the movie stars Clifton Webb, Debra Paget, Robert Wagner, Ruth Hussey, Finlay Currie, Roy Roberts and Thomas Browne Henry. “Though it falls short of biography – and what Hollywood biopic doesn’t? – Stars And Stripes Forever succeeds marvelously as a spirited and tuneful musical film. The plots – one involving both famed composer John Philip Sousa and his wife, the other involving a fictional “young love” couple – are predictable and, truth be told, fairly trite; but their stories are told with conviction and professionalism. They’re also told swiftly, allowing Stars to dispense with them as often as necessary to get to the real business of the film – Sousa’s music, especially his marches. Stars does pay lip service to its subject’s oft-stated desire to have his ballads more appreciated, but it’s the marches that really make the film come alive, and they’re delivered impeccably under musical director Alfred Newman’s precise supervision. There are also a couple of non-march numbers that stand out, especially Debra Paget’s rollicking, high-energy “Father’s Got ‘Em!” Holding the picture together is Clifton Webb as Sousa; the part doesn’t require a tremendous range, but Webb makes an asset of that, enjoying the chance to explore new ways to deliver a wisecrack or to combine bewilderment and disdain in one quick glance. Paget is simply gorgeous and adorable, and Robert Wagner is handsome and engaging; as Sousa’s wife, Ruth Hussey has too little to do, but does it so well that she seems to play a much bigger role than she actually does. The costumes are lovely, the color is yummy, and Henry Koster directs as if this were simply the nicest Fourth of July picnic in existence – which it pretty much is.” (Craig Butler). The movie was nominated for Golden Globe Awards in the following categories: Best Motion Picture – Musical/Comedy; Best Motion Picture Actor – Musical/Comedy (Clifton Webb); and Most Promising Newcomer – Male (Robert Wagner). Stained on the front wrapper, else a very good copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1951. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated December 27, 1950 with inserted page revisions dated as late as January 25, 1951 [the movie’s U.S. release date was June 15, 1954]. Screenplay written by Sonya Levien and William Ludwig, based on Dorothy Donnelly’s play of the same name, which in turn was based on Wilhelm Meyer-Förster’s novel Old Heidelberg. Songs in the production include: “I’ll Walk With God,” “Beloved,” “Summertime In Heidelberg,” (with all music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Paul Francis Webster); and “Drinking Song,” “To The Inn We’re Marching,” “Deep In My Heart, Dear,” “Serenade,” “Come Boys, Let’s All Be Gay, Boys,” “Golden Days” and “Just We Two” (with all music by Sigmund Romberg and lyrics by Dorothy Donnelly and Paul Francis Webster). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Richard Thorpe and an uncredited Curtis Bernhardt, the movie stars Ann Blyth, Edmund Purdom, John Ericson, Louis Calhern, Edmund Gwenn, S.Z. Sakall, Betta St. John, John Williams, Evelyn Varden, John Hoyt, Richard Anderson, Mario Lanza (singing voice only), Roger Allan, Steve Rowland, Chris Warfield, Gilbert Legay, Archer MacDonald, Charles Davis and John Qualen. “Somewhat surprisingly, [the 1924 operetta by Sigmund Romberg and Dorothy Donnelly] The Student Prince was filmed only once. The 1954 MGM release starred Ann Blyth as Kathie, and Edmund Purdom’s looks and speaking voice with Mario Lanza’s singing voice as Karl Franz. Mario Lanza was slated to play the title role in the film; however, his excessive weight and poor mental condition kept him from being able to fulfill his contractual obligation. A standoff between Lanza and MGM ensued, with the studio filing suit against the tenor and ultimately firing him. Following standard Hollywood practice, Lanza had already pre-recorded the film’s soundtrack. Part of the settlement between MGM and Lanza allowed the studio to use his pre-recorded singing voice. A great deal of Romberg’s music was cut, leaving only “Students Marching Song,” “Kathie’s Entrance,” “Come Boys, Let’s All Be Gay, Boys,” “Drinking Song,” “Serenade,” “Deep In My Heart, Dear,” and “Golden Days.” Three songs by Nicholas Brodszky and Paul Francis Webster, who were friends of Lanza, were added to the score at the singer’s request: “Summertime In Heidelberg,” “Beloved,” and “I’ll Walk With God.” Sonya Levien and William Ludwig’s screenplay followed the basic premise of Donnelly’s libretto, but there were some substantive changes. In the film, Karl Franz has a stronger sense of entitlement because of his royal stature than he does in the stage play. He kisses Kathie soon after they meet and makes unwelcome romantic advances, believing he has the right to do so because of his birthright. She repels his actions, though the two eventually declare their mutual love. Karl Franz’s relationship with his student colleagues is also changed for the film: he joins the Westphalians, who do not have titles, rather than the Saxons, who allow only nobility to join their ranks. When von Asterberg, leader of the Saxons, discovers Karl Franz’s royal blood, he forces him to join his corps. Karl Franz, rather than join a group whose attitude he has grown to dislike, instead challenges their leader to a duel. The power of the male chorus in stage operetta was transferred to the screen. Seemingly hundreds of students sing the “Students Marching Song” through the streets of Heidelberg on their way to the inn. Other features of the large male chorus include “Drinking Song” and traditional student songs with new lyrics by Paul Francis Webster that were added to the score (“Yu-Hu-Day, Yu-Hy-Dee” “Crambambuli,” “Beer Here [Bier Hier],” and “Round and Round and Round”). The presence of these numbers not only accentuates the dramatic importance of the male chorus in the film but also emphasizes the lack of a female one. The dramatic placement and purpose of several musical numbers are also modified for the screen version. For example, Karl Franz sings “Serenade” as a solo to Kathie while the two are walking together at night. The camaraderie of the original setting is replaced by the intimacy of two young people in love. The male chorus is heard, but not seen, at the end of the middle and final sections of the number. In another example, “Golden Days” does not appear until late in the film, when Karl Franz sings it to his tutor, Professor Juttner (Engel’s character in the stage operetta, whose name is returned to that of the original Meyer-Foerster play), as he is on his way to Nordhausen to marry Princess Johanna. While singing the song, Karl Franz remembers his days in Heidelberg. He commands that the train be stopped at Heidelberg so that he can keep the promise he made to Kathie to return. Nostalgia is still the central focus of the waltz however, now it is exclusively Karl Franz’s property rather than belonging jointly to Engel and Karl Franz. Significantly, both of these central songs in The Student Prince that Karl Franz shared with other with other singers on stage are now solo numbers on film. Mario Lanza’s voice and his impassioned interpretations make them as powerful in the film as they were on stage, though in different dramatic contexts. The omission of the secondary love stories, the sentimental one between the Princess and Tarnitz represented by the waltz “Just We Two” and the comic one between Gretchen and Lutz, certainly streamlines the overall plot, but also eliminates the dramatic and musical foils for Kathie and Karl Franz. Furthermore, the extended musical sequences, such as the act I finale, which were defining elements of the stage version, are eliminated in the film. The changes were certainly necessary in order to tell the story of Kathie and her Student Prince within 107 minutes (the length of the film) and also to accommodate a genre that was more concerned with individual songs than with unified musical scenes. These transformations in effect bring greater focus to the ill-fated romance between the singing leads. Nostalgia and young love are certainly not forgotten, to be sure. This is readily apparent at the end of the film, which concludes not with a reprise of “Deep in My Heart, Dear” but rather with Karl Franz and his professor riding in a carriage to the strains of “Gaudeamus igitur,” sung by the students. Juttner’s translation of the Latin appears in on-screen script as the memorable final line of the film, “Let us rejoice when we are young.” Attention is thus drawn away from the unhappy fate of Kathie and Karl Franz and a more optimistic message completes this tender fable of young love.” (William A. Everett & Geoffrey Holden Block). Wrappers faded with a chip to the lower front wrapper, else a very good wrapper.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1942. Final Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 25, 1942 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 1, 1943]. Screenplay written by Ken Englund, based on a story by William R. Lipman, Frederick Stephani and Edward Van Every. Songs in the production include: “Get Your Police Gazette”; “Goin’ To The Country Fair”; “My Heart Tells Me (Should I Believe My Heart?)”; “My Sam”; “Where, Oh, Where Is The Groom?”; and “The Wishing Waltz” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon). Produced by William Perlberg and directed by Irving Cummings, the movie stars Betty Grable, Robert Young, Adolphe Menjou, Reginald Gardiner, Virginia Grey, Phil Regan, Sig Ruman, Alan Dinehart, Hobart Cavanaugh, Frank Orth and Jonathan Hale. “In this semi-remake of Love Is News (1937), Betty Grable stars as a Gay-Nineties Bowery saloon singer. Ever seeking an opportunity for advancement, Grable heads to London, becomes a highbrow musical comedy “artiste”, and concocts a scheme to land a wealthy duke (Reginald Gardiner). Her plan is foiled by a snoopy reporter (Robert Young) from the Police Gazette who has long been a thorn in Grable’s side. Young’s motive has nothing to do with dishing out gossip; he’s in love with Betty and wants her for his own. Tuneful frolics like Sweet Rosie O’Grady seem to be the collective reason that Technicolor was invented.” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1943. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated February 19, 1943. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1938. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 6, 1938 [the movie’s U.S. release date was December 23, 1938]. Screenplay written by Curtis Kenyon and Harry Tugend, based on a story by Gilbert Wright. Produced by Harry Joe Brown and directed by William A. Seiter, the movie stars Adolphe Menjou, Jack Oakie, Jack Haley, Arleen Whelan, Tony Martin, Binnie Barnes, George Barbier and Warren Hymer. “Thanks For Everything is an unjustly forgotten lampoon of media promotional stunts. Jack Haley wins a contest sponsored by an ad agency, which is looking for the perfect “average American.” The contest’s avaricious promoters (Adolphe Menjou and Jack Oakie) use poor Haley as a merchandising tool by having him endorse all sorts of products. When Haley’s girl friend (Arleen Whelan) realizes that the hapless fellow is being exploited as a means of controlling the advertising industry, Haley insists that the promoters cease and desist or he’ll blow the whistle. The promoters respond by discrediting Haley as a crackpot, but justice triumphs in the end. Thanks For Everything is capped by a bizarre sequence in which Menjou and Oakie convince Haley that World War II has broken out – a sequence filmed one year before this actually occurred!” (Hal Erickson). A very good or better copy.

Originally titled: This Summer Is Yours. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1948. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY INCOMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated September 28, 1948 with inserted revision pages dated as late as October 5, 1948 [the movie’s U.S. release date was September 22, 1949]. Screenplay written by Bruce Manning and Tamara Hovey. Songs in the production include: “They Didn’t Believe Me” (music by Jerome Kern and lyrics by Herbert Reynolds); “I Know, I Know, I Know” (music by Bronislau Kaper and lyrics by Bob Russell); “L’Elisir d’Amore” (by Gaetano Donizetti); “Piano Concerto No. 1” (by Franz List); “Cavalleria Rusticana” (by Pietro Mascagni); “Piano Concerto No. 1” (by Pyotr Illyich Tchaikovsky); and “Aida” and “Rigoletto” by Giuseppe Verdi. Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Norman Taurog, the movie stars Kathryn Grayson, José Iturbi, Ethel Barrymore, Mario Lanza, Keenan Wynn, J. Carrol Naish, Jules Munshin, Thomas Gomez, Marjorie Reynolds, Arthur Treacher, Mimi Aguglia, Amparo Iturbi, Bridget Carr, Amparo Ballester, Ann Codee, Edward Earle, George Meader and Sheila Stein. “MGM brought culture to the masses with the 1949 musical, That Midnight Kiss, and created a new star in the process. In a burst of creative casting, young Mario Lanza, an Army veteran and former truck driver turned classical singer, made his film debut as an Army veteran and former truck driver who turns to classical singing. Lanza had grown up listening to Enrico Caruso’s operatic recordings. He was studying voice when World War II broke out, and he kept singing as a member of the all-military ensemble touring the nation in Winged Victory. When the show hit Los Angeles, actress Irene Manning spotted him and recommended him for a contract at Warner Bros., but studio head Jack Warner couldn’t see past Lanza’s 250 pound weight and passed on the tenor. Instead, he made his movie debut as an unbilled chorus member in the Winged Victory 1944 film adaptation. After the war, Lanza landed a recording contract and a wife, children and a new exercise/diet routine soon followed. The latter helped him catch MGM head Louis B. Mayer’s eye at a Hollywood Bowl concert. Mayer signed him to a $750 a week contract and set out to find the right vehicle for his screen debut. There was never any choice as to who would produce Lanza’s films. Joseph Pasternak had come to MGM in 1942 after a string of hits with child soprano Deanna Durbin. Initially he was brought on to help develop MGM’s own junior-league soprano, Kathryn Grayson. At her urging, he used their films together to popularize the classics. Although he never hit the artistic heights of MGM’s top musical producer, Arthur Freed, Pasternak created a pastiche style that was immensely popular, mixing lighter and more recognizable classical numbers with popular music, including guest appearances by the era’s top big bands, radio stars and recording artists. For Lanza’s screen debut, Pasternak created a romanticized version of the singer’s own early career. Grayson plays an aspiring singer who discovers the musical truck driver, falls for him and gets him a job with the opera company funded by her grandmother (Ethel Barrymore). When the company’s star tenor walks out in a huff, it’s little surprise that Lanza is the only one who can take his place and scores a triumph singing opposite the woman he loves. The paper-thin plot provided an excuse for a collection of classical favorites, including arias from Rigoletto, Cavelleria Rusticana, Aida and L’Elisir D’Amore. For those who weren’t interested in classical singing, the film also marked the last MGM outing for classical pianist José Iturbi, who plays himself as the opera company’s conductor and takes time out to solo on Liszt’s Piano Concerto and join his sister Amparo for Chopin’s Revolutionary Etude. Adding to the film’s cultural appeal was Barrymore’s presence as Grayson’s grandmother. Mayer had signed the stage legend a year earlier, hoping that her presence would lend prestige to the studio’s films. He even featured her prominently at the studio’s many charity events. That Midnight Kiss was only her second film under contract. After playing a Russian countess in the period drama The Great Sinner (1949), she finally got the full MGM glamour treatment, complete with lacquered hair, a Helen Rose wardrobe and glorious Technicolor. The role even bore a passing resemblance to her own life. Just as her character had dreamed of being an opera singer in her youth, Barrymore had originally hoped to become a concert pianist before being drawn into the family business. Ironically, she had shot to stardom in the 1901 Broadway production of Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines, playing an opera singer. That Midnight Kiss and Lanza scored a huge hit with audiences. The studio rewarded him with a $10,000 bonus and more tailor-made vehicles, all of them produced by Pasternak. He rewarded them with temperamental outbursts, weight problems and continued box office success. Although his career was cut short by his early death, he did more than any other singer to popularize opera. His recordings continue to be in demand, with more than 50 million records sold to date.” (Frank Miller). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1952. First Draft Continuity Pre-Production Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated June 17, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was December 16, 1954]. Screenplay written by Henry Ephron and Phoebe Ephron, based on a story by Lamar Trotti. Songs in the production include: “After You Get What You Want You Don’t Want It”; “Heat Wave”; “Lazy”; “There’s No Business Like Show Business”; “You’d Be Surprised”; “Alexander’s Ragtime Band”; “A Sailor’s Not A Sailor (‘Til A Sailor’s Been Tattooed)”; “A Man Chases A Girl (Until She Catches Him)”; “A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody”; “Simple Melody”; “When The Midnight Choo-Choo Leaves For Alabam”; “If You Believe”; “Let’s Have Another Cup O’ Coffee”; and “Remember” (all with music and lyrics by Irving Berlin. Produced by Sol C. Siegel and directed by Walter Lang, the movie stars Ethel Merman, Donald O’Connor, Marilyn Monroe, Dan Dailey, Johnny Ray, Mitzi Gaynor, Richard Eastham, Hugh O’Brian, Frank McHugh, Rhys Williams, Lee Patrick, Eve Miller and Robin Raymond. “There’s No Business Like Show Business is the story of The Five Donaghues, an Irish-American vaudeville music family and their fortunes and misfortunes who, regardless of the circumstances, adhere to the principle that the show must go on. As the above description implies, most of the showbiz musical clichés are here in force, not to mention a few racial ones. Stephen Donoghue, played by Johnnie Ray in his uniquely individual style, leaves The Donoghues to pursue his calling as a priest, while Donald O’Connor’s Tim Donoghue is the drunk of the family, turning to drink in a harmless 1950’s cinema sanitised way when his relationship with Vicky Parker (Marilyn Monroe) runs into difficulties. The film is heavy on the musical numbers and extremely light on plot, story and characterisation. Fortunately, the colourful set pieces and Irving Berlin’s musical numbers more than make up for the shortcomings of the story. This is not the kind of musical where the songs are integrated into the story à la Singing In The Rain or South Pacific, but just standard show numbers that the characters perform as part of their stage act. These numbers however are beautifully staged, choreographed and costumed and are a wonderfully colourful extravaganza. Performances are mostly good throughout. Ethel Merman as Molly, the mother, does not have exactly the most melodic voice in the world, but she belts out her numbers with gusto and remains in tune. Dan Dailey is solid as the father while Donald O’Connor’s tendency to go just a little bit over the top is restrained here, but he is left to let loose on his dance routines and is superbly light on his feet. Johnnie Ray sounds marvellous when singing, but his acting performance isn’t great and didn’t earn him any other acting roles in the movies. Marilyn Monroe, while obviously the star attraction, does not have a major part in the film. Her musical numbers, “After You Get What You Want You Don’t Want It At All” and “Heat Wave”, however are absolutely stunning, and her singing voice and delivery are excellent. Whatever you might feel about her merits as an actress, here Marilyn Monroe does what she does best, looking fantastic and lighting up the screen with her presence. Every inch the star attraction, she pouts, purrs and poses perfectly through her routines. While she doesn’t have to work too hard at acting in the rest of the film, her performance is nevertheless creditable.” (Noel Megahey). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the following categories: Best Costume Design, Color (Charles Le Maire, Travilla and Miles White); Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (Alfred Newman and Lionel Newman); and Best Writing, Motion Picture Story (Lamar Trotti). The movie was also nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (Henry Ephron and Phoebe Ephron). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1952. Temporary Draft Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated October 9, 1952. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1953. Revised Temporary Draft Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated January 15, 1953. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1953. Second Revised Temporary Draft Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated February 4, 1953. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1953. First Draft Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 22, 1953. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1953. Final Draft Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated December 17, 1953. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1954. Revised Final Draft Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated February 11, 1954. A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1954. Revised Shooting Final Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 12, 1954. A very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1948. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY’ on the front wrapper and each page of the script has also been stamped ‘PERMANENT SCRIPT FILE.’ This script has been dated February 12, 1948 with inserted revision pages dated as late as April 7, 1948 [the movie’s U.S. release date was July 12, 1950]. Screenplay written by George Wells. Songs in the production include: “She’s Mine, All Mine,” “So Long! Oo-Long (How Long You Gonna Be Gone?),” “Nevertheless,” “All Alone Monday,” “You Smiled At Me,” “Thinking Of You,” “I Love You So Much” and “Three Little Words” (all with music by Harry Ruby and lyrics by Bert Kalmar); “Where Did You Get That Girl?” (music by Harry Puck and lyrics by Bert Kalmar); “My Sunny Tennessee” (music by Harry Ruby and Herman Ruby and lyrics by Bert Kalmar); “Who’s Sorry Now?” (music by Harry Ruby and lyrics by Bert Kalmar and Ted Snyder); “Come On, Papa” (music by Harry Ruby and Edgar Leslie and lyrics by Bert Kalmar); “I Wanna Be Loved By You” (music by Harry Ruby and lyrics by Bert Kalmar and Herbert Stothart); “Mr. and Mrs. Hoofer At Home” and “Test Dance” (both with music by André Previn); and “You Are My Lucky Star” (music by Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics by Arthur Freed). Produced by Jack Cummings and directed by Richard Thorpe, the movie stars Fred Astaire, Red Skelton, Vera-Ellen, Arlene Dahl, Keenan Wynn, Gale Robbins, Gloria DeHaven, Phil Regan, Harry Shannon, Debbie Reynolds, Paul Harvey, Carleton Carpenter, George Metkovich and Harry B. Mendoza. “The composer biography was a Hollywood staple when MGM took on the life of songwriters Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby for Three Little Words (1950). And for once, the studio actually got it right. The genre had been pioneered by Warner Bros., who had scored hits with Rhapsody in Blue, with Robert Alda as George Gershwin, in 1945 and Night and Day, with Cary Grant as Cole Porter, in 1946. Since then, however, the genre had performed spottily at the box office. MGM had scored a hit with Robert Walker as Jerome Kern in Till the Clouds Roll By (1946) but had fared less successfully with Tom Drake and Mickey Rooney as Rodgers and Hart in Words and Music (1948). One problem was that most songwriters hadn’t led very interesting lives or had done things Hollywood didn’t deem appropriate for the movies (no Hollywood film of the period would have dealt with Porter or Hart’s homosexuality). Another was that the films’ stars rarely had the musical chops to carry a musical, leading to tacked-on assemblages of guest stars who often stole the movie for one number. With Three Little Words, those problems didn’t exist. For once, the film’s subjects had an interesting problem that translated easily to film – they never really got along. Both had interests outside of songwriting – Kalmar was a magician and wannabe playwright; Ruby dreamed of playing ball – that ultimately came between them. With that hint of a story and the promise that Ruby, the team’s surviving member, would share his stories with writer George Wells, producer Jack Cummings managed to convince Louis B. Mayer that this was one film that couldn’t fail. Just to insure the picture’s success, he also landed three stars who could hold their own musically. Fred Astaire was committed to co-star with Betty Hutton at Paramount, but the film wouldn’t be ready to shoot for six months. When Cummings sent him the script, he decided it was worth giving up the long vacation he had planned. Helping him agree to the project was the fact that he had known Kalmar and Ruby from his Broadway days. He and his sister, Adele Astaire, had even modeled part of the act that made him a star on Kalmar’s vaudeville act with his future wife, Jessie Brown. To play Brown, Cummings enlisted another dancing star, Vera-Ellen, who had recently scored a hit in MGM’s version of On the Town (1949). For Ruby, Cummings went after an actor who actually resembled the composer, Red Skelton. Then he had to convince Skelton to take a script that didn’t allow for his usual frantic comic business. Fortunately, Skelton’s wife, Georgia, saw the wisdom of his trying a change-of-pace role and helped Cummings sell him on the project. The film still featured some guest stars – most notably Gloria DeHaven, who played her own mother, who had introduced “Who’s Sorry Now?” – but most of the musical numbers were carried by Astaire, Vera-Ellen and Skelton. Three Little Words also provided a boon for two relative newcomers to the screen. Composer André Previn had been doing orchestrations for MGM since before he graduated from high school. Now, he had his first opportunity to score a major film. The fact that it was a Fred Astaire musical added to the assignment’s prestige. Previn forged an instant bond with Ruby, who shared his passion for rare books, and was impressed with Astaire’s ability to deliver a song. Previn was still young enough to be as much a fan as a filmmaker and eventually asked Astaire for an autograph. The star turned him down, claiming he never signed autographs, but when the film was finished he sent Previn one of the black canes he’d used in the film. He’d even scraped away some of the paint and signed the exposed wood. Another bonus Previn got from the film was his first Oscar nomination. By the time the nominations were announced, he had been drafted. In fact, he was digging a latrine when he was called to Orderly Room to receive the telegram notifying him of the honor. Although he would be nominated for 14 Oscars, winning four times, this was the only instance in which he could remember exactly what he was doing when he learned of his nomination. Also given a big boost from the film was Debbie Reynolds. She was under contract at Warner Bros. but was clearly on her way out after playing only three short roles in six months. Then the studio talent scout who had discovered her took her to MGM to show off her ability to impersonate singers while miming to their recordings. She was cast on the spot to play Helen Kane, who had introduced Kalmar and Ruby’s “I Want to Be Loved by You” and would perform the number on the soundtrack. Reynolds only had two scenes. In one Kalmar and Ruby discover her when she interrupts their work on the song by interjecting “boop-boop-a-doop” after each line. Then she performs the song on Broadway while vamping another screen newcomer, Carleton Carpenter. The first scene was a total fiction. Kane was already a Broadway star when the song was added to the score of a show she was working on. She hated the song and had interjected her famous “boop-boop-a-doop”’s during performances to spoof it, only to see it become her biggest hit. But the fiction paid off for Reynolds. By the time her fan mail started coming in, MGM had signed her to a contract and cast her, along with Carpenter, in a flashier role in Two Weeks With Love (1950).” (Frank Miller). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Scoring of a Musical Picture (André Previn). The movie won a Golden Globe Award in the category of Best Motion Picture Actor – Musical/Comedy (Fred Astaire) and was nominated in the category of Most Promising Newcomer (Debbie Reynolds), and was also nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (George Wells). The MGM studio label has been removed from the front wrapper leaving some glue residue, the wrapper edges are slightly faded, else a very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1944. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘COMPLETE’ with holograph notes in green ink in an unknown hand also on the front wrapper: “I have lost track / let us know how / tell me abhout [sic] / it.” The script is dated February 28, 1944 with inserted revision pages dated as late as April 18, 1944 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 23, 1945]. Screenplay written by Richard Connell and Gladys Lehman. Songs in the production include: “I Should Care” (music by Alex Stordahl and Paul Weston and lyrics by Sammy Cahn) and “Please Don’t Say No, Say Maybe” (music by Sammy Fain and lyrics by Ralph Freed). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Richard Thorpe, the movie stars Van Johnson, Esther Williams, Frances Gifford, Henry Travers, Spring Byington, Lauritz Melchior, Carleton G. Young, Ethel Griffies, Donald Curtis, Jerry Scott, Fernando Alvarado, Helene Stanley, Vince Barnett, Billy House, Joan Fay Macaboy and Tommy Dorsey. “Esther Williams finds romance on her honeymoon in Thrill of a Romance (1945) – but not with the man she expected. Williams plays a newlywed swimming instructor whose husband is called away from their honeymoon on business. Also vacationing at the same mountain resort is soldier on leave Van Johnson. Williams and Johnson do a little swimming and soon find themselves with a problem – they’ve fallen in love. Thrill of a Romance was the second of five movies Williams and Johnson made together. They first appeared together in the wartime romance A Guy Named Joe (1943). The success of their musical pairing in Thrill of a Romance led to three more song-filled movies – Easy to Wed (1946), Easy to Love (1953) and Duchess of Idaho (1950). Williams and Johnson find themselves surrounded by some impressive musical talent in Thrill of a Romance. Opera star Lauritz Melchior makes his presence known as soon as the credits roll. He opens Thrill of a Romance singing in close up over his billing as “The Metropolitan Opera Star.” In this, his first film role, Melchior is cast as an opera star on a diet who plays cupid for Williams and Johnson. As Melchior’s screen credit fades, the movie segues into the music of popular bandleader Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra. Thrill of a Romance was one of a number of film appearances Dorsey and his orchestra made at MGM in the 1940s. Other Dorsey films include Girl Crazy (1943), DuBarry Was a Lady (1943) and Broadway Rhythm (1944). Dorsey first formed an orchestra in the late 1920s with brother Jimmy. Appropriately called The Dorsey Brothers Orchestra, the band featured some big names such as trombonist Glenn Miller and crooner Bing Crosby. But the Dorsey brothers fought constantly and eventually split up in 1935, each forming his own orchestra. The brothers did come together for one film – 1947’s The Fabulous Dorseys. They eventually reunited in 1953 and went on to have a popular variety show on CBS, called Stage Show, that featured the first television appearance of Elvis Presley. Lauritz Melchior was 55 when he made his film debut in Thrill of a Romance. Melchior was born in Copenhagen on March 20, 1890. He first appeared with the Copenhagen Royal Opera in 1913 and made his U.S. debut with the Metropolitan Opera in 1926. MGM producer Joe Pasternak heard Melchior on the radio and brought the tenor to Hollywood where he made several films for the studio between 1945 and 1948. There was Two Sisters from Boston (1946) with Kathryn Grayson and June Allyson, This Time for Keeps (1947) again with Esther Williams and Jimmy Durante and Luxury Liner (1948) with George Brent and Jane Powell. Melchior was reportedly delighted with his film work, while the manager of the Metropolitan Opera was less than thrilled. Melchior did not renew his contract with the opera but he kept busy with TV guest appearances and concerts. And he appeared in one more film – for Paramount – The Stars Are Singing (1953). Also worth noting in Thrill of a Romance are The King Sisters, one of the big band era’s most popular singing groups. Another familiar face is Henry Travers who plays Williams’ Uncle Hobart in the film. Travers is best know for playing angel Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life (1946).” (Stephanie Thames). Extensive holograph notations to the first ten pages of the script, in both pencil and red pencil in an unknown hand, else a very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1940. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 22, 1940 [the movie’s U.S. release date was November 22, 1940]. Screenplay written by Robert Ellis and Helen Logan, based on Pamela Harris’s story “Life Is A Song.” Songs in the production include: “Put On Your Old Grey Bonnet” (music by Percy Wenrich and lyrics by Stanley Murphy); “Oh, You Beautiful Doll” (music by Nat Ayer and lyrics by Seymour Brown); “Any Little Girl, That’s A Nice Little Girl, Is The Right Little Girl For Me”; “I Want A Girl (Just Like The Girl That Married Dear Old Dad)” (music by Harry von Tilzer and lyrics by Will Dillon); “K-K-K-Katy” (music and lyrics by Geoffrey O’Hara); “You Say The Sweetest Things (Baby)” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Pretty Baby” (music by Tony Jackson and Egbert Van Alstyne and lyrics by Gus Kahn); “Moonlight Bay” (music by Percy Wenrich and lyrics by Edward Madden); “Honeysuckle Rose” (music by Fats Waller and lyrics by Andy Razaf); “Moonlight And Roses” (by Edwin H. Lemare, Ben Black and Neil Moret); “America I Love You” (music by Archie Gottler and lyrics by Edgar Leslie); “Pack Up Your Troubles In Your Old Kit Bag And Smile, Smile, Smile!” (music by Felix Powell and lyrics by George Asaf); “Smiles” (music by Lee S. Roberts and lyrics by J. Will Callahan); “Good-Bye Broadway, Hello France” (music by Billy Baskette and lyrics by C. Francis Reisner and Benny Davis); “Over There” (by George M. Cohan); “The Sheik Of Araby” (music by Ted Snyder and lyrics by Harry B. Smith and Francis Wheeler); “When You Wore A Tulip And I Wore A Big Red Rose” (music by Percy Wenrich and lyrics by Jack Mahoney; and “He’d Have To Get Under – Get Over And Get Under (To Fix Up His Automobile)” (music by Maurice Abrahams and lyrics by Grant Clarke and Edgar Leslie). Produced by Kenneth MacGowan and directed by Walter Lang, the movie stars Alice Faye, Betty Grable, Jack Oakie, John Payne, Allen Jenkins, Esther Ralston, Fayard Nicholas and Harold Nicholas. “In Walter Lang’s exuberant musical extravaganza, Harry Calhoun (Jack Oakie) and Skeets Harrigan (John Payne), two struggling songwriters living in New York’s fabled melody mart, Tin Pan Alley, are desperate to sell their material – and so poor that Skeets has to pay the rent by taking hits inside the boxing ring. Help arrives in the form of Katie Blane (Alice Faye), a chanteuse who not only turns their tunes into hits but falls in love with Skeets. But when Katie departs for London to perform with her sister, Lily (Betty Grable), the boys hit rock bottom once more. Then World War I begins, so Harry and Skeets join the army and head off to London. Naturally, the tune smiths meet up again with the Blane sisters, a reunion that results in songs, dance, and lots of romance. This glittering production soars on the wings of its Oscar-winning score, which features several irresistible songs, including “Goodbye Broadway, Hello France,” “K-K-Katy,” “Moonlight Bay,” “Honeysuckle Rose,” “You Say the Sweetest Things (Baby),” and co-star Jack Oakie’s hilarious showstopper, “Sheik of Araby.”” (Charles Bates). The movie won an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Score (Alfred Newman). Some tears to the spine and creasing to the rear panel, else generally a very good copy.

Originally titled: Serenade to Suzette. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1949. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated August 29, 1949 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 24, 1950]. Screenplay written by Sy Gomberg and George Wells. Songs in the production include: “The Toast of New Orleans,” “Be My Love,” “Tina Lina,” “Boom Biddy Boom Boom,” “The Bayou Lullaby” and “I’ll Never Love You” (all with music by Nicholas Brodszky and lyrics by Sammy Cahn). Produced by Joe Pasternak and directed by Norman Taurog, the movie stars Kathryn Grayson, Mario Lanza, David Niven, J. Carrol Naish, James Mitchell, Richard Hageman, Clinton Sundberg, Sig Arno, Rita Moreno and Romo Vincent. “Filmed with the aid of 35 different sets built on the MGM backlot to recreate the New Orleans of 1905, and again under the direction of Norman Taurog, The Toast of New Orleans was [a] rags to riches story. In the screenplay, written by Sy Gomberg and George Wells, Mario Lanza is an uninhibited fisherman whose sensational voice brings him to the attention of opera impresario David Niven. The impresario, together with the help of the star soprano and romantic interest (Kathryn Grayson), proceeds to change the rough fisherman into a polished and elegant gentleman, often with comic results. Lanza’s character becomes stiff and unnatural, only reverting to his old self when he realizes that he must if he is to win Grayson. This was not a significant departure from his first film [1949’s That Midnight Kiss], with only the period and the locale changed and the story clearly of secondary importance to Lanza’s voice. Nevertheless the film was a happy experience for Lanza, who enjoyed working with co-star Niven and the Irish-American character actor J. Carrol Naish. The latter had portrayed his father in That Midnight Kiss, and was now playing his uncle. At the same time, however, the first signs that Lanza was succumbing to the pressures of overnight fame would surface. While working on The Toast of New Orleans, he began to drink with increasing frequency. Whereas in the past he would limit his intake to a glass of red wine with his meals and the occasional beer, he was now drinking scotch. David Niven had introduced him to Chivas Regal and Lanza had taken an instant liking to it. His drinking would consequently affect his filming of the climactic scene, the Love Duet from Madama Butterfly with Kathryn Grayson. Lanza – high on alcohol at the time and unaware of his strength – continually grabbed Grayson’s arms during filming, pulling her toward him as the script demanded. The scene required a large number of takes, resulting in the soprano’s arms becoming badly bruised. A furious Grayson retaliated at the end of the duet, when the script required her to slap Lanza after he kisses her as the curtain falls. Grayson’s closed fist is clearly visible as she hits Lanza with all her strength instead of merely slapping him. Third-billed David Niven, then at a low point in his career, had joined the cast because he needed the money. Nevertheless, he liked Lanza’s bubbly personality and enjoyed the time spent working with him. During breaks from filming, Niven – who was fond of opera – would often pass the time with Lanza listening to the tenor’s collection of opera records. At other times, when Lanza was skipping lunch and training with some of the weights Terry Robinson had brought over to the set, Niven, Naish and – on occasion – Grayson would join Lanza in his weight-lifting. Another member of the cast was the talented 18-year-old Puerto Rican dancer Rita Moreno. The charismatic Moreno thoroughly enjoyed her first experience in a film musical, and would later go on to win an Academy Award for her role as Anita in West Side Story. Overall the atmosphere on the set reflected the pleasant and humorous nature of the movie. Lanza would retain fond memories of the days spent on the set of The Toast of New Orleans, reminiscing shortly before his death that he had “never had so much fun making a movie.” Although Niven thought little of the film, he would remember it in his memoirs as “a success thanks only to the fact that it launched Mario’s golden voice.”” (Armando Cesari). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (Nicholas Brodszky and Sammy Cahn for “Be My Love”). Some soiling to the edge of the front wrapper, else a near fine copy.

Originally titled: Kiss of Fire. Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1949. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY,’ ‘COMPOSITE SCRIPT,’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper, which also shows approval in manual type for Pasternak, with director and screenwriter credits for Norman Taurog, George Wells and Sy Gomberg, and with penciled change notations to the inner rear wrapper in an unknown hand. This script is dated November 28, 1949 with inserted revision pages dated as late as December 22, 1949. A near fine copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1950. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘MIMEOGRAPH FILE COPY,’ ‘VAULT COPY’ and ‘COMPLETE’ on the front wrapper with the statement “with 4/4/50 retakes from George Wells” typed along the bottom. This script is dated December 2, 1949 with inserted revision pages dated as late as February 20, 1950 and retake scenes dated April 4, 1950 appended to the rear of the script. A near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1952. First Draft Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated March 19, 1952 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 26, 1953]. Screenplay written by Ruth Goode, Sol Hurok, Harry Kurnitz and George Oppenheimer. Songs in the production include: “Autumn Leaves” (by Frédéric Chopin); “Schoen Rosmarin” (by Fritz Kreisler); “The Swan” (by Camille Saint-Saëns); “Violin Concerto No. 2” (by Henryk Wieniawski); “Valse Caprice” (by Anton Rubinstein); “Mattinata” (by Ruggiero Leoncavallo); “Zigeunerweisen” (by Pablo Martín Meliton Sarasate y Navascuez); “Violin Concerto” (by Felix Mendelssohn); “Sweet Low” (by Joseph Barnby); “Menuetto” (by Franz Schubert); “Pas De Deux” (by Léon Mincus); and excerpts from the operas: Madame Butterfly (by Giacomo Puccini); Boris Godunov (by Modest Moussorgsky); La Traviata (by Giuseppe Verdi); and Faust (by Charles Gounod). Produced by George Jessel and directed by Mitchell Leisen, the movie stars David Wayne, Ezio Pinza, Roberta Peters, Anne Bancroft, Tamara Toumanova, Isaac Stern, Byron Palmer, Jan Peerce, Oskar Karlweis, Mikhail Rasumny, Steven Geray and Walter Woof King. “Tonight We Sing is the life story of legendary impresario Sol Hurok, impersonated herein by David Wayne. A lover of the arts, young immigrant Hurok despairs when he realizes he has no musical or artistic talents. Thus it is that, despite great personal and financial sacrifice, Hurok devotes his life to discovering and nurturing other performers and bringing them to Broadway. Among his more celebrated protégés are Russian opera-singer Feodor Chaliapin (Ezio Pinza) and violinist Eugene Ysaye (Isaac Stern). Other notables making guest appearances are singer Jan Peerce and Roberta Peters and ballerina Tamara Toumanova. Anne Bancroft co-stars as Hurok’s gentle, patient wife Emma. Based on the autobiography by Sol Horuk (co-written with Ruth Goode), Tonight We Sing was produced for Twentieth Century-Fox by George Jessel.” (Hal Erickson). A very good copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1952. Revised Final Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 12, 1952. Sunned on the front wrapper, else a very good or better copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1963. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November 20, 1962 with inserted revision pages dated as late as July 24, 1963 [the movie’s U.S. release date was June 11, 1964]. Screenplay written by Helen Deutsch, based on the play by Richard Morris. Songs in the production include: “Dolce Far Niente,” “Up Where The People Are,” “I Ain’t Down Yet,” “Colorado Is My Home,” “Belly Up To The Bar, Boys,” “I’ll Never Say No,” “Leadville Johnny Brown” and “He’s My Friend” (all with words and music by Meredith Willson). Produced by Lawrence Weingarten and Roger Edens and directed by Charles Walters, the movie stars Debbie Reynolds, Harve Presnell, Ed Begley, Jack Kruschen, Hermione Baddeley, Vassili Lambrinos, Fred Essler, Harvey Lembeck, Lauren Gilbert, Kathryn Card, Hayden Rorke, Harry Holcombe, Amy Douglass, George Mitchell, Martita Hunt, Vaughn Taylor, Anthony Eustrel, Audrey Christie, Grover Dale, Brendan Dillon, Maria Karnilova and Gus Trikonis. “Debbie Reynolds scored one of the triumphs of her career in 1964 as The Unsinkable Molly Brown, a frontierswoman who rises to wealth and power when her husband strikes it rich in Colorado and goes on to become a heroine when she survives the sinking of the Titanic. But though the part would bring Reynolds her only Oscar nomination, she was not the first choice for the role. In fact, she had to fight just to get the director to direct her. Meredith Willson adapted Molly Brown’s biography to the Broadway stage as a follow-up to his first major hit, The Music Man. Though The Unsinkable Molly Brown was not an unqualified smash, it made stars out of leading players Tammy Grimes and Harve Presnell. With the success of The Music Man on film, MGM was eager to pick up the rights to a similar musical. It would become the studio’s last great musical film. The young, handsome Presnell was a natural for films and would be the only member of the original cast invited to reprise his role. As successful as Grimes had been on Broadway, however, Hollywood already had an ideal choice for Molly Brown, Shirley MacLaine, and she was eager to play the role. No sooner had she signed, however, than independent producer Hal Wallis, who had brought her to Hollywood in the ‘50s, claimed that she was still under contract to him. The legal complications forced MacLaine to withdraw from the role, which producer Lawrence Weingarten then offered to Reynolds. She jumped at the opportunity to star in a big musical of her own, even though she had to accept a lower fee than had been offered to MacLaine. Then the trouble started. First, Reynolds had to deal with MacLaine, who accused her of undercutting MacLaine’s price to steal the role from her. Reynolds did her best to mollify her, arguing that MGM couldn’t make the film with Wallis threatening a lawsuit and pleading that it was her last chance for a great film role. On the whole, she got off easier than Hollywood Reporter columnist Mike Connolly. When he reported that MacLaine had lost the part before any decision had even been made, she decked him. Reynolds’ next hurdle was director Charles Walters. Although he had scored a hit directing her opposite Frank Sinatra in The Tender Trap (1955), he had his heart set on casting MacLaine as Molly Brown. He even tried to convince Reynolds to turn the part down. When she asked why he thought she was wrong for it, he told her, “You’re much too short for the role.” Reynolds quipped, “How short is the part?” then told him he was just plain wrong. His doubts continued through the location shooting in Colorado. In fact, he gave her so little direction that Reynolds turned to Lillian Burns, an accomplished acting coach with whom she had worked in her early days at MGM, to help her with the part. Finally, when the rushes started coming in, Walters conceded that she was right for the role. His doubts came back, however, when it came time to shoot Reynolds’ biggest dance number, “He’s My Friend.” He even suggesting cutting it, claiming it was too tough for her to learn, but Reynolds insisted. MGM had slashed the film’s budget because of cost overruns on Doctor Zhivago (1965), so Walters had to try to get the number in as few takes as possible. As insurance, he had TWO cameras simultaneously film a long take of the seven-minute number, a television technique rarely used on film. Reynolds pulled the number off without a hitch, though one of her male dancing partners fainted after it was over. The Unsinkable Molly Brown turned out to be a huge hit for MGM, becoming the third highest-grossing film of 1964. The picture garnered six Oscar nominations, including Reynolds’ Best Actress nod. She would prove wrong in her prediction that this would be her last great role. She would go on to turn in an Oscar-worthy performance in Albert Brooks’ 1996 comedy Mother. She and MacLaine would survive their differences, eventually teaming up for the television movie These Old Broads in 2001. Before that, MacLaine would play a role loosely based on Reynolds – and with her blessing – as the movie star mom in Postcards From the Edge (1990), written by Reynolds’ daughter, Carrie Fisher.” (Frank Miller). The movie was nominated for Academy Awards in the following categories: Best Actress in a Leading Role (Debbie Reynolds); Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Color (E. Preston Ames, George W. Davis, Henry Grace and Hugh Hunt); Best Cinematography, Color (Daniel L. Fapp); Best Costume Design, Color (Morton Haack); Best Music, Scoring of Music, Adaptation or Treatment (Robert Armbruster, Leo Arnaud, Jack Elliott, Jack Hayes, Calvin Jackson and Leo Shuken); and Best Sound (Franklin Milton). Ownership name on the upper front wrapper, else a near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1949. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 21, 1949 [the movie’s U.S. release date was March 31, 1950] with ‘PERMANENT LEGAL RECORDS’ and ‘APR 22 1949’ stamped on the front cover. Screenplay written by Charles Lederer and Harry Tugend, based on a story by Charles Lederer. Songs in the production include: “Down On Wabash Avenue”, “Baby Won’t You Say You Love Me?”, “Wilhelmina”, “Clean Up Chicago” and “May I Tempt You With A Big Red Rosy Apple?” (music by Josef Myrow and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate” (music and lyrics by A.J. Piron, Ken Darby and Mack Gordon); “I’ve Been Floating Down The Old Green River” (music by Joe Cooper and lyrics by Bert Kalmar); “Honey Man (My Little Lovin’ Honey Man)” (music by Al Piantadosi and lyrics by Joseph McCarthy); “Are You From Dixie? (‘Cause I’m From Dixie, Too!)” (music by George L. Cobb and lyrics by Jack Yellen); “I Remember You” (music by Harry von Tilzer and lyrics by Vincent Bryan); “Billy (I Always Dream of Bill)” (music by James Kendis and Herman Paley and lyrics by Joe Goodwin); and “Harrigan” (music and lyrics by George M. Cohan). Produced by William Perlberg and directed by Henry Koster, the movie stars Betty Grable, Victor Mature, Phil Harris, Reginald Gardiner, James Barton, Barry Kelley, Margaret Hamilton, Jacqueline Dalya, Robin Raymond and Hal K. Dawson. “After all the successful practice that Twentieth Century-Fox has had in putting together and scoring those big Betty Grable musicals, there isn’t a great deal of wonder that its latest, Wabash Avenue, is just a few points shy of perfect, so far as such honky-tonkers go. The music is frequent and catchy, the costumes and color are lush, the cast is enthusiastic and Miss Grable is – well, she still has legs. What’s more, the script by Harry Tugend and Charles Lederer is rowdy and bright, and it has been directed by Henry Koster as though everyone were going to a fire. Don’t look for chic or sophistication in this [movie]. Just look for tinsel, tights and barrel-house, and that’s what you'll get plenty of. The tip-off, we’d say, is Miss Grable, the very first time she appears as a platinum-blonde shimmy dancer in a gas-lit Chicago saloon. Garbed in a couple of lengths of gold fringe and screaming an ancient lament to the effect that she wishes she could shimmy like her sister Kate, this round and voluptuous young lady proceeds to unlimber herself in a manner which we feel safe in guessing her sister could not surpass. And this form of agitation rather sets the style for the whole show. They never get far above the level of the shimmy in Wabash Avenue. But on that uncomplicated level, the whole thing moves along with speed and pace, mixing up music, rowdyisms and tin-pan romance in a gay and humorous way. As usual in such hurly-burlies, the plot is no more than a line upon which are hung the comic conflicts and capers that go with such affairs. Seems that there are two fellows, whom Phil Harris and Victor Mature play – two graduate bunco-artists who parry briskly over Miss Grable and a saloon. Seems that they like to play poker, piano and practical jokes. Mr. Mature finally gathers in Miss Grable; Mr. Harris is left with the saloon. In the meantime, however, lots of music and Miss Grable’s glittering legs, not to mention her other adornments, have been recklessly tossed around. In a stylish blue picture-hat and ruffles, she sweetly cavorts with a gang of eager young men to a ditty called “Walking Along With Billy,” which is a wow. Dressed as a Danish girl, she warbles and dances “Wilhelmina” prettily and, leaning against a pilaster, she makes “Baby, Won’t You Say You Love Me” steam. And, moving about among the bar-flies, she coyly croons a lullaby, “May I Tempt You With a Big Red Rosy Apple?” which is not calculated to bring on sleep. Mack Gordon and Josef Myrow deserve a hand for the songs. Mr. Mature and Mr. Harris also rate whacks on the back for getting as much tangy humor out of the gentlemen hoodlums as they do. Together with the brilliantined Miss Grable, who is no slouch at tossing a barrel-house line, they roll up a very considerable wise-crack-decibel score. As a titanic drunk, James Barton wangles a lot of laughs, too – although this corner finds that just a small bit of Mr. Barton goes a very long way. And finally Reginald Gardiner, Robin Raymond and Jacqueline Dalya knock off some smaller roles with gusto. Wabash Avenue proves the virtue of a script, if not necessarily of the characters, in these big, rosy musical rowdy-dows.” (Bosley Crowther, New York Times review of April 29, 1950). The movie was nominated for an Academy Award in the category of Best Music, Original Song (Josef Myrow and Mack Gordon for “Wilhelmina”). Light creasing to the wrapper edges, else a near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1949. Revised Final Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated May 13, 1949 with inserted page revisions dated as late as June 10, 1949. A few tiny closed tears along the edges, else a near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1937. Dialogue Continuity Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated April 9, 1937 [the movie’s U.S. release date was August 23, 1937]. Screenplay written by Harry Tugend and Jack Yellen, based on a story by Curtis Kenyon adapted from a novel by Dorothea Brande. Songs in the production include: “There’s A Lull In My Life”; “Wake Up And Live”; “Never In A Million Years”; “I’m Bubbling Over”; “It’s Swell Of You”; “Oh, But I’m Happy”; “I Love You Too Much, Muchacha”; “Red Seal Malt”; and “Bernie’s Love Song” (all with music by Harry Revel and lyrics by Mack Gordon). Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and directed by Sidney Lanfield, the movie stars Walter Winchell, Ben Bernie, Alice Faye, Patsy Kelly, Ned Sparks, Jack Haley, Walter Catlett and Grace Bradley. “The hyped-up 1930s radio feud between bandleader Ben Bernie and columnist Walter Winchell is all but forgotten today, but that doesn’t lessen the entertainment value of the Bernie/Winchell vehicle Wake Up and Live. Amidst the bickering of the two stars, the film traces the progress of mike-shy singer Jack Haley (whose singing voice was dubbed by Buddy Clark). Leading lady Alice Faye tricks Haley into singing on the air with Bernie’s orchestra, which results in Winchell doing his best to discredit both Bernie and Haley. Eventually Haley and Alice Faye fall in love, and Ben and Walter patch up their differences. So successful was Wake Up and Live that Twentieth Century-Fox rushed Bernie and Winchell into a follow-up, Love and Hisses, but by that time their feud had taken second place in the hearts of America to the equally contrived “battle” between Jack Benny and Fred Allen.” (Hal Erickson). A very good copy.

Culver City: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1944. Draft Screenplay in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘VAULT COPY,’ ‘TEMPORARY COMPLETE’ and the wartime admonition ‘SAVE FILM! HELP WIN THE WAR!’ on the front wrapper. This script is dated May 11, 1944 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 4, 1945]. Screenplay written by Sam Spewack and Bella Spewack, adapted by Guy Bolton from Vicki Baum’s novel Menschen im Hotel. Songs in the production include: “And There You Are” (music by Sammy Fain and lyrics by Ted Koehler) and “Guadalajara” (music and lyrics by Pepe Guízar). Produced by Arthur H. Hornblow Jr. (and an uncredited Robert Z. Leonard) and directed by Robert Z. Leonard, the movie stars Ginger Rogers, Lana Turner, Walter Pidgeon, Van Johnson, Edward Arnold, Keenan Wynn, Robert Benchley, Phyllis Thaxter, Leon Ames, Lina Romay, Samuel S. Hinds, Porter Hall, George Zucco, Miles Mander, Frank Puglia, Michael Kirby, Cora Sue Collins, Warner Anderson, Rosemary DeCamp, Jacqueline deWit, Charles C. Wilson, Irving Bacon, Nana Bryant, Moroni Olsen, William Halligan, Bob Graham, John Wengraf and Xavier Cugat. “It is just another weekend at the bustling New York City hotel, the 1893 Art Deco landmark Waldorf-Astoria, in the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer omnibus Week-End at the Waldorf (1945). As the weekend begins, a honeymooning couple checks in, along with a war correspondent and an Air Corps Captain, James Hollis (Van Johnson), who’s just lost his buddy in the war and will soon undergo risky surgery himself for war injuries. Over the course of the film, an array of personalities are introduced and conflicts arise amid several musical interludes performed in the Waldorf’s Starlight Room by Xavier Cugat, a bandleader dubbed the “Rhumba King” who did much to popularize Latin rhythms for American audiences. Among the various stories, Captain Hollis falls in love with beautiful hotel stenographer Bunny Smith (Lana Turner). But the lowborn New York City girl would rather escape to Park Avenue with corrupt but wealthy businessman Martin X. Edley (Edward Arnold). Edley is in the process of brokering an oil deal with the Bey of Aribajan (George Zucco) who is staying at the hotel with a retinue of Middle Easterners – and one goat. Meanwhile, war correspondent Chip Collyer (Walter Pidgeon), recovering from having seen too much killing during the war, finds himself drawn to the lonely Hollywood star Irene Malvern (Ginger Rogers). At one point, neurotic bride-to-be Cynthia Drew (Phyllis Thaxter) also preparing for her wedding at the Waldorf becomes convinced that her fiancé is in love with Malvern. To reassure her, Malvern concocts a story about being secretly married to Collyer, a tactic that quickly backfires into fodder for the gossip columns. The fake wedding is soon material for nosey newspaper reporter Randy Morton (Robert Benchley) who is decamped at the Waldorf-Astoria. Morton is played by actual journalist and critic Robert Benchley who was famous for his witty writing as a theater critic and editor at such esteemed publications as The New Yorker and Vanity Fair. Director Robert Z. Leonard deftly packs a wealth of detail and incidents into this remake of Grand Hotel (1932), adapted from the Vicki Baum play by husband and wife reporters turned successful screenwriters Sam and Bella Spewack; they shared an Oscar nomination in 1940 for My Favorite Wife. The Spewacks add a note of melancholy to the proceedings in continual references throughout the film to World War II. There are uniformed and battle-weary soldiers and correspondents included as characters, but also multiple references in dialogue to battlefield casualties and the war raging when the film was made. Week-End at the Waldorf features a wealth of top-notch Hollywood talent including romantic leads Rogers and Pidgeon, both experiencing a new, potent phase of their careers in the Forties. Rogers was convinced to star in Week-End at the Waldorf by producer Arthur Hornblow, Jr.’s promise that her gowns – 12 in all – would be designed by Irene and her ornate hairdos would be courtesy of Sydney Guilaroff. “This was the first time I had worked for the giant, MGM, and the studio really pulled out all the stops,” Rogers recalled. But there were off days. When an Irene dress Rogers was meant to wear was held up in production, producer Hornblow asked if the star could use something of her own. “It must have been somewhat embarrassing for the producer to ask the star to dip into her own wardrobe to help costume the film,” recalled Rogers in Ginger: My Story. Second-hand costumes aside, Week-End at the Waldorf was by every measure a success. Variety called the film “a big, star-packed show that can’t miss.” Coincidentally, there were two other films dedicated to Manhattan landmarks also released in 1945; The Stork Club and Billy Rose’s Diamond Horseshoe. Both Rose and Stork Club owner Sherman Billingsley asked for high fees from film studios to center their films on their clubs, but Lucius Bloomer of the Waldorf required no such payment beyond the exceptional publicity a film with the Waldorf at its center would guarantee. Week-End at the Waldorf was the sixth largest grossing film of 1945 and also a huge hit for Lana Turner; by 1946 Turner had become one of the ten highest paid women in America. She would go on to even greater success with her next film, as the gorgeous white-clad femme fatale alongside John Garfield in The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946). Lana’s character of Bunny Smith in Week-End at the Waldorf found her way into popular culture by becoming the model for the cartoon creation of William Hanna and Joseph Barbera – Toodles – who made her debut in 1945 in the MGM cartoon “Springtime for Thomas.” Lana Turner’s co-star Van Johnson matched Turner’s sultriness with his own famously boyish qualities which made the war-weary Hollis an even more vulnerable and poignant character. Johnson was so beloved by bobby-soxers of the day, he was called “the Voiceless Sinatra.” His fan base was as formidable as his co-star who was often referred to as the “Sweater Girl” (reportedly Turner earned the nickname when she was discovered by an editor of The Hollywood Reporter in a tight sweater sipping a soda at Schwab’s Drugstore). Turner would become one of the favorite pin-up girls of WWII soldiers who came into her own as a glamorous MGM star in the Forties.” (Felicia Feaster). Stained on the front wrapper, else a near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1941. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated June 24, 1941 [the movie’s U.S. release date was October 8, 1941]. Screenplay written by Karl Tunberg and Darrell Ware. Songs in the production include: “A Week-End In Havana”; “When I Love, I Love”; “Tropical Magic”; “The Man With The Lollypop Song”; and “The Ñango (Nyango)” (all with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); and “Romance And Rhumba” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by James V. Monaco). Produced by William LeBaron and directed by Walter Lang, the movie stars Alice Faye, Carmen Miranda, John Payne, Cesar Romero, Cobina Wright, George Barbier, Sheldon Leonard and Leonid Kinskey. “Inspired casting and Walter Lang’s deft direction breathe abundant life into Week-End In Havana, in which a woman’s trip to Cuba leads to romance, laughter, and sizzling songs. Nan Spencer (Alice Faye) has saved up for years for her vacation to Havana and is sorely disappointed when the cruise ship runs aground near Florida. While the other guests accept vouchers for another trip, Nan refuses because this was her only opportunity to get away. When she intimates that the failure with the ship was the captain’s fault, the cruise company’s vice president, Jay Williams (John Payne), personally accompanies Nan to Havana to avoid any more serious legal repercussions. Entrusted with ensuring that Nan will have a good time, Jay pays handsome ne’er-do-well Monte Blanca (Cesar Romero) to romance her. Meanwhile, Jay is forced to relieve Blanca of his own girlfriend singer, Rosita Rivas (Carmen Miranda), who decides Jay is a fine substitute for her romantic attentions. This wacky love quadrangle provides Week-End In Havana with plenty of material for several boisterous song-and-dance routines. “Week-End In Havana,” “The Man With The Lollypop Song,” and “Tropical Magic” are among the catchy numbers featured in this spicy musical fiesta.” (Charles Bates). A very good or better copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1944. Revised Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated September 5, 1944, with inserted page revisions dated December 11, 1944 [the movie’s U.S. release date was May 23, 1945]. Screenplay written by Morrie Ryskind, based on a story by Ryskind and Sig Herzig. Songs in the production include: “All At Once”; “Morale”; “If Love Remains”; “Songs Of The Rhineland”; and “Columbus (The Nina, The Pinta, The Santa Maria)” (all with music and lyrics by Kurt Weill and Ira Gershwin). Produced by William Perlberg and directed by Gregory Ratoff, the movie stars Fred MacMurray, Joan Leslie, June Haver, Gene Sheldon, Anthony Quinn, Carlos Ramirez, Alan Mowbray, Fortunio Bonanova, Herman Bing and Howard Freeman. “In this engagingly silly musical fantasy from the waning days of WW2, Fred MacMurray stars as Bill, who wants to serve his country but has been classified 4-F. While working at a local USO, Bill falls in love with the fickle Lucilla (June Haver, soon to be Mrs. Fred MacMurray), never realizing that he himself is worshipped from afar by the sensible Sally (Joan Leslie). Stumbling across an old lamp donated to a scrap drive, Bill impulsively rubs the lamp – and out pops Ali (Gene Sheldon), a bibulous, bumbling genie. Hoping to become a hero in Lucilla’s eyes, Bill asks Ali to put him in the US Army. The genie complies, but gets his wires crossed, and Bill ends up in the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War. In short order, Bill meets two lookalikes of the girls in his life at “Ye U.S.O.”, shows up at Valley Forge and trades quips with General Washington (Alan Mowbray) – who, in anticipation of MacArthur and Eisenhower, bombastically insists that he has no political aspirations – unsuccessfully tries to alert Washington of the duplicity of Benedict Arnold (John Davidson), and ultimately finds himself behind enemy lines with a troop of Hessians, whom he tries to hoodwink by delivering a Nuremberg-style speech, replete with “Sieg Heils.” Arrested and sentenced to a Hessian firing squad, Bill again summons Ali, who whisks him off to the year 1492. In an elaborate “opera bouffe”, Bill musically dissuades the sailors serving under Christopher Columbus (Fortunio Bonanova) from staging a mutiny, convincing them to continue seeking out the New World (as represented by a group of Cuban natives in a conga line). Once on dry land, Bill is entranced by a comely Indian maiden who looks a lot like Lucilla, only to be entrapped in an old-fashioned “badger game” cooked up by the girl’s wily Native American boyfriend (Anthony Quinn). Buying his way out of an embarrassing situation by agreeing to purchase Manhattan Island for $24, Bill is then transported to “New Amsterdam” in the mid-1600s. In his efforts to persuade the local Dutch elders that he is the rightful owner of Manhattan, Bill succeeds only in getting arrested again. This time, however, the drunken Ali manages to zap our hero back to the 20th Century – with the 17th-century equivalent of Sally in tow. The songs, by Kurt Weill and Ira Gershwin, are appropriately bright and satirical, but none are standouts. Still, Where Do We Go From Here? is one of those frothy 1940s concoctions that is absolutely impossible to dislike.” (Hal Erickson). “Last Copy” has been written in holograph ink at the head of the spine, and there are holograph red pencil notations to the script, both in unknown hands, else a near fine copy.

Originally titled: The Flaming Age. Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1947. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated September 11, 1947, with inserted revision pages dated as late as September 30, 1947 [the movie’s U.S. release date was January 28, 1948]. Screenplay written by Valentine Davies and Elick Moll. Songs in the production include: “Concerto in F” (music by George Gershwin); “Happy Days Are Here Again” (music by Milton Ager); “Lilacs In The Rain” (written by Peter De Rose); “You Were Meant For Me” (music by Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics by Arthur Freed); “If I Had You” (music and lyrics by Ted Shapiro, Jimmy Campbell and Reginald Connelly); “Can’t Sleep A Wink” (music and lyrics by Charles Henderson); “Crazy Rhythm” (music by Joseph Meyer and Roger Wolfe Kahn and lyrics by Irving Caesar); “I’ll Get By” (music by Fred E. Ahlert and lyrics by Roy Turk); “Good Night, Sweetheart” (music and lyrics by Ray Noble, Jimmy Campbell and Reginald Connelly); “Ain’t Misbehavin’” (music by Thomas “Fats” Waller and Harry Brooks and lyrics by Andy Razaf); and “Ain’t She Sweet?” (music by Milton Ager and lyrics by Jack Yellen). Produced by Fred Kohlmar and directed by Lloyd Bacon, the cast included Jeanne Crain, Dan Dailey, Oscar Levant, Barbara Lawrence, Selena Royle, Percy Kilbride, Marilyn Monroe and Herbert Anderson. “This musical romance is set during the Great Depression and centers upon the rocky marriage between a flapper script girl and her band-leader spouse. Prior to the big stock market crash, they spend much of their time touring. She tires of it and returns to her country home. Unable to find new bookings, he soon joins her and brings with him his acerbic, cynical manager. The bandleader finds the pastoral life a crashing bore and so heads for the big city to find fortune. Fortunately, by the story’s end, he succeeds and happiness is the result.” (Sandra Brennan). The movie was nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (Elick Moll and Valentine Davies). Some pages have holograph initials in pencil to the upper left hand corners or the versos in an unknown hand, the spine is somewhat faded with the wrappers creased at the edges, else overall an about near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1948. Final Shooting Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. Stamped ‘PERMANENT LEGAL RECORDS’ with the studio filing number on the front wrapper. This script is dated October 25, 1948 [the movie’s U.S. release date was June 29, 1949]. Screenplay written by Will H. Hays Jr. and Lamar Trotti, based on a story by George Jessel. Songs in the production include: “I Want To Be My Teacher’s Pet” (music by Josef Myrow and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “The Varsity Drag” (music by Ray Henderson and lyrics by Buddy G. DeSylva and Lew Brown); “You’re My Everything” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mort Dixon and Joe Young); “Chicago (That Toddlin’ Town)” (music and lyrics by Fred Fisher; “California, Here I Come” (music by Joseph Meyer and lyrics by Buddy G. DeSylva and Al Jolson); “You Oughta Be In Pictures” (music by Dana Suesse and lyrics by Edward Heyman); “I May Be Wrong (But I Think You’re Wonderful)” (music by Harry Sullivan and lyrics by Harry Ruskin); “Ain’t She Sweet” (music by Milton Ager and lyrics by Jack Yellen); “Chattanooga Choo Choo” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “I Can’t Begin To Tell You” (music by James V. Monaco and lyrics by Mack Gordon); “Would You Like To Take A Walk?” (music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Mort Dixon and Billy Rose); “The White Magnolia Tree” (music by Alfred Newman and lyrics by Ken Darby); “Lollipop Prelude And Interlude” (written by Mack Gordon); and “On The Good Ship Lollipop” (music by Richard A. Whiting and lyrics by Sidney Clare). “Set in the 1920s and 1930s, Twentieth Century-Fox’s You’re My Everything borrows elements from several true-life showbiz stories, include the rise to fame of Fox’s own Shirley Temple. Vaudeville hoofer Timothy O’Connor (Dan Dailey) sweeps proper New England gal Hannah Adams (Anne Baxter) off her feet. Hannah joins O’Connor’s act, eventually soaring to popularity as a silent-film star. When talkies come in, Hannah is finished, but her precocious daughter Jane (played by Shirley Temple sound-alike Shari Robinson) becomes America’s sweetheart. Musical highlights include the title song, “The Good Ship Lollipop” (featuring Dan Dailey in politically incorrect blackface), and one new number, “I Want To Be Teacher’s Pet.” Featured in the supporting cast are Alan Mowbray as a bombastic director and Buster Keaton in an unbilled guest shot. In his autobiography, Keaton recalled that he came onto the set, dropped a tray full of dishes, performed a pratfall, and collected $1000, without ever knowing what the film was about!” (Hal Erickson). The movie was nominated for a Writers Guild of America Award in the category of Best Written American Musical (Lamar Trotti and Will H. Hays Jr.)., Spine slightly faded with light wear to the page edges, else a near fine copy.

Century City: Twentieth Century-Fox, 1948. Revised Final Script in pinned wrappers. Quarto. Mimeographed sheets printed on the rectos only. This script is dated November, 12, 1948 with inserted page revisions dated January 10, 1949. Studio filing number and copy number stamped at the upper right hand corner and lower right hand corner of the cover, respectively. There is a closed tear to the bottom of the first change page else, a near fine copy with only minor wear to the cover edges.