“Claudette Colbert insisted on being filmed from only one angle, which complicated everyone’s lives in these early television days. In filming Blithe Spirit she was so uncooperative that Noel [Coward] swore he would wring her neck—if he could find it.”—The Letters of Noel Coward, edited by Barry Day (2007)
I had intended to post this quote today in the belief that September 17 was the birthday of Claudette Colbert, but it appears I was late by four days. (The original year I had for her birth—1905—also appears to be late, by two years, but it was and is a Hollywood actress’ prerogative to slice a few years off one’s age.) In any case, the quote was so good that I couldn’t let it sit unused for long.
I first became aware of the situation that drove Coward crazy—the actress’ insistence that she be photographed on one side of her face—when my high school sponsored a Career Day in which parents spoke about their jobs.
One parent with an especially interesting one—a cameraman in the television industry—mentioned in passing some of the particular challenges of dealing with Hollywood legends. Alan Ladd was so short that directors had to take special steps to make it appear he was at least at tall as his female co-stars. And Colbert wanted only her left profile to be filmed. Evidently, a nose injury left her with a slight bump on the right side, which cameramen came to christen, because of the infrequency with which it was seen, “the dark side of the moon.”
Colbert’s self-protective instincts paid off in the end: Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, audiences came to love the way her face would light up with sass.
The shot of the actress in the accompanying post was taken from I Cover the Waterfront. I like it because she appears ready to break out in one of her characteristic screwball comedy poses: merriment.
Colbert was not my favorite screwball comedienne (that would probably be Irene Dunne, the subject of a recent post of mine), but she did make at least three major contributions to the romantic comedy genre: It Happened One Night (1934), which netted her a Best Actress Oscar; Midnight (1939), starring Don Ameche and a wonderful but visibly aging John Barrymore; and Palm Beach Story (1942), her collaboration with writer-director Preston Sturges and co-star Joel McCrea.
After the 1940s, she pretty much confined herself to television and the stage. She lived on until 1996.
As for that name: No way when she was starting out was the Parisian-born actress going to make it in the movies with her real name—Emilie Claudette Chauchoin—so the more euphonious “Claudette Colbert” was born.
I had intended to post this quote today in the belief that September 17 was the birthday of Claudette Colbert, but it appears I was late by four days. (The original year I had for her birth—1905—also appears to be late, by two years, but it was and is a Hollywood actress’ prerogative to slice a few years off one’s age.) In any case, the quote was so good that I couldn’t let it sit unused for long.
I first became aware of the situation that drove Coward crazy—the actress’ insistence that she be photographed on one side of her face—when my high school sponsored a Career Day in which parents spoke about their jobs.
One parent with an especially interesting one—a cameraman in the television industry—mentioned in passing some of the particular challenges of dealing with Hollywood legends. Alan Ladd was so short that directors had to take special steps to make it appear he was at least at tall as his female co-stars. And Colbert wanted only her left profile to be filmed. Evidently, a nose injury left her with a slight bump on the right side, which cameramen came to christen, because of the infrequency with which it was seen, “the dark side of the moon.”
Colbert’s self-protective instincts paid off in the end: Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, audiences came to love the way her face would light up with sass.
The shot of the actress in the accompanying post was taken from I Cover the Waterfront. I like it because she appears ready to break out in one of her characteristic screwball comedy poses: merriment.
Colbert was not my favorite screwball comedienne (that would probably be Irene Dunne, the subject of a recent post of mine), but she did make at least three major contributions to the romantic comedy genre: It Happened One Night (1934), which netted her a Best Actress Oscar; Midnight (1939), starring Don Ameche and a wonderful but visibly aging John Barrymore; and Palm Beach Story (1942), her collaboration with writer-director Preston Sturges and co-star Joel McCrea.
After the 1940s, she pretty much confined herself to television and the stage. She lived on until 1996.
As for that name: No way when she was starting out was the Parisian-born actress going to make it in the movies with her real name—Emilie Claudette Chauchoin—so the more euphonious “Claudette Colbert” was born.
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