Let's Be an Old School Studio Picture

I'm Jack Warner

I'm Nigel Bruce. The most reliable of character actors.

I'm Edith Head, stealing all my assistants' best ideas and claiming them as my own.

I'm ravenous scene chewer Anne Baxter.

I'm Jack L. Warner!

I'm the rigged Oscar nominations

I'm Franklin Pangborn, and I'm the fussy person who is supposed to be gay, but that is never addressed. I just am.

I am SIR C. Aubrey Smith. I was born old.

I'm the lingering taste of R5's cock in my mouth, making me feel like a dirty slut. But hey, he promised to cast me in his new feature! That'll show those jerks back home!

R9 too accurate

I'm Cedric Gibbons!

I’m MGM’s little red schoolhouse.

My academic standing is dubious.

I'm all the close-ups.

If I am in this motion picture, you know it will be a high caliber production.

I'm the European glamour girl with limited English skills that gets cast in the leads because she's fucking the studio head.

I'm the MGM bridge, Clinton Sundberg, and SZ "Cuddles" Sakall.

I'm Pola Negri, refusing a comeback.

I'm the two-shot.

I will be replaced in the future by the extreme close-up.

I'm an Actress. I am interchangeable and my salary comes rom the prop department.

I'm the foreign, usually Jewish, director who has fled Europe.

I’m Barbara Stanwyck’s pre-code, pre-gray auburn hair.

I'm the mid-Atlantic accent.

I'm Edward Everett Horton, ubiquitous because I'm reliably apt as a best friend or comic relief. I'm gay and not really closeted about it. I had a long enough career to appear as a narrator on the Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon.

R23 a cartoon like Fantasmagorie?

[quote]R19 I'm an Actress. I am interchangeable and my salary comes from the prop department.

Thank you, Debette Goldry.

I'm folksy yet cantankerous Everyman Walter Brennan.

I’m the loan out to Poverty Row. All because I refused the musical extravaganza [italic]Antelope Love Call.

I'm box office poison.

Interrupting the thread, because R27 reminded me - I saw "Get That Venus" (1933) on Youtube the other day. It was so bad and cheaply made, yet had Jean Arthur has the lead. I wondered what she was doing in a "Poverty Row" film, I wonder if she was in trouble with her usual studio (which I think was Columbia)?

I am Peter Lorre. I am only hired when you need a villain or a homosexual.

I'm Joan Crawford's shoulder pads.

I'm the Hays Code.

I am the "very realistic green scene" for when we have to drive car. You cannot tell I am here

Or both, R30

I'm the back lot, where every location on earth is filmed.

I'm a curiously blurred closeup of the leading lady.

I'm Norma Shearer.

R35 which is why John Guillermin really pissed me off

I’m Cuddles Sakall and I’m too polite to tell everyone that I hate when they pinch my cheeks.

I'm Robert Montgomery, whom you might get mixed up with Melvyn Douglas who was classier, or Robert Taylor who was prettier, but I did very well for quite awhile until Charles Boyer came along.

I'm Nancy Reagan giving blowies to random men on the MGM back lot.

[quote]R37 I'm Norma Shearer.

And I’m the cinematographer’s sleepless nights, spent pondering how to disguise her dizzyingly wonky eye. Again.

Another profile shot? We’ve already done six…

I’m Janet Leigh’s quite big tits. I’ll be passed down to her son, Jamie Lee.

I'm the lack of Nepo Babies.

I'm the southern mansion facade and sets that everyone will claim scenes from Gone With the Wind were filmed.

I'm Ethel Gumm, looking on approvingly as "pep pills" are shoveled down my youngest daughter's throat.

"Perk up, dear! Mr. Mayer wants you to rise and shine!"

"She's cute, but that breath! I gave her the name of my dentist."

I’m the Liquor-Slicked Highway to Hell

I'm Ethel Waters

The only female African American around

Excuse me? And I have an Oscar.

I’m the starlet: “Any woman in Hollywood under thirty who is not actively employed in a brothel.“

I’m the abortionist on call.

I'm Lillian Burns the MGM drama coach.

I'm an old school studio picture.

I’m the plight of the heroine - does she branch out on her own, pursuing her dreams, or does she abandon everything for Her Man?

I'm Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. Apparently R44 has never heard of me.

I’m the sniping bitchery among the set decorators.

I’m the studio pharmacist. Miss Garland’s shipment just arrived.

I'm a 5-o'clock girl

I'm a blonde extra with big boobs, chewing my gum and answering every direction from the assistant director with a saucy "Natch!"

I'm fat fuck Louis B. Mayer, groping tits and ass of young girls, approving ridiculous cosmetic appliances and procedures, and "fainting" at my studio birthday parties so I could leave my lowly employees to socialize with themselves. I might waddle around the studio and haven't seen my tiny dick in years because of my gunt, but you wouldn't believe the amount of prime pussy (and possibly ass!) I get just because of who I am!

I'm the inauthentic sounding voices.

I'm Lassie.

I'm Bess Flowers, chalking up my 1,258th appearance as a dress extra.

[quote]I'm the lack of Nepo Babies.

Ahem...

Yes, R65.

But some of us stand on our records.

What do you stand on?

I'm the straight and sexy young Rock Hudson.

R66, I stood on a glass table for my father and...never mind.

r65 Aside from Fairbanks, who was already mentioned, none of those people ever appeared in an "old school studio picture."

[quote]I'm Bess Flowers, chalking up my 1,258th appearance as a dress extra.

And I did it without having to fuck Darryl Zanuck!

I’m the pages in a big bound book, turning and turning to reveal the opening credits in fancy script. My steady pace is scrupulously assured, yet gentle, and I’m backed by swooping music.

I'm Gloria Swanson

I'm the Uppers

I'm Boris Karloff and I once again have to play a fucking monster.

I'm the pages rapidly falling off the calendar to let you know that time is passing.

I'm the newspaper headings to let you know the event was BIG

I'm Jack Carson. Between 1937 and 1958 it was technically illegal to release a Hollywood picture without me in a supporting part. Hear me crack wise!

I'm Joan Crawford's clacking knitting needles, disturbing the concentration of all my co-stars, especially Miss Shearer.

Eventually, I'll create a muffler to present to my favorite cameraman as a......bonus.

I'm all the dick that hot, aspiring male stars have to suck to get a foot in the door.

I'm Errol Flynn, with a finger up Olivia's pussy but she'd too cold to notice it.

I'm John Barrymore, Clara Bow, Errol Flynn, W.C. Fields, Spencer Tracy and dear Marion Davies.

We're drunk.

I’m Lana Turner’s rocking trailer… and the missing, burly grip.

I’m a snood.

I'm George Cukor's fabulous pool parties.

I'm Ethel Gumm, the real Wicked Witch of the West.

I'm the archived newsreel which sets up the plot

I'm Gail Patrick. I always play the bitch and lose (or ruin) the guy. But offscreen I always get what I want. When I did "HIT PARADE of 1943" at Republic, Susan Hayward 's costumes were by Adele Palmer, whoever she is. I demanded and got gowns by Adrian. And I kept them.

I'm the first Mrs. Sid Luft.

I'm Dot Lamour. I come from Louisiana and my "exotic coloring" is due to my Irish, French and Spanish ancestry.

I am very glad 23andMe and Ancestry.com did not exist.

I’m the former actress who snagged and married the aging Louis B. Mayer.

You WILL give me the respect I’m entitled to… or you’re OFF this picture. On yer ASS!

I’m the social minefield that is the MGM commissary.

I’m the careful rotation of interviews divided between Hedda and Louella.

I'm the oozing cooters of the young starlets, squelching across the floor after leave Mr Zanuck's office

I’m the limping aspiring actors, following auditions for the Freed Unit.

I'm the hastily-arranged "adoption" for Miss Young ...

I'm the murder mystery film. Although the corpse was stabbed nine times, there is magically no blood.

I'm the Hays code, here to mar your viewing fun!

I'm the setting- I am either in New England or the deep south.

I'm the little B-picture series that is akin to the later type of program, the TV series. Crime Doctor, Boston Blackie, Blondie, etc.

We're Belle Poitrine and Letch Feeley, the "it" couple of Morris Buchsbaum's Metronome Studios!

I'm GOWNS BY TRAVILLA.

I’m Veronica Lake and I’m not even five feet tall.

Where’s my apple box?

I'm Yvonne De Carlo, wiping something like thin yoghurt from the corner of my mouth with a man's handkerchief.

I am Adrian, grimly tolerating the jokes about my "Red Period" gown and cape for Mrs. Thalberg in "Marie Antoinette."

Janet and Mary (Martin, of course) were very solicitous. Mary stayed with us while her husband Richard took care of some business in the Far East.

I'm laffing and laffing with lahfter.

I'm the peroxide tower at Fox.

I'm Jean Harlow's upholstered leaning board

I'm "Convention City".

I've been missing since the late 1930s and because I was so raunchy I was destroyed when the Production code came in..

When I am eventually rediscovered I am revealed to not being nearly as good as everyone wanted me to be.

I’m the star’s dressing room

I'm [italic]The Longest Night,[/italic] poor, talentless, dipsomaniacal Jane Hudson's ill-fated attempt at a transition to serious adult roles.

I am (Nancy Davis' godmother) Nazimova, entering with a panther on one leash and my latest girlfriend on another.

I'm the young stud who stands half a block down the street from the studio gate who always manages to get a ride to somewhere special at 5:15 pm.

I'm Vera Hruba Ralston. I skate. My acting makes Sonja Henie look like Garbo.

I'm Van Johnson, being told once again that my ruined, scarred-up car-crash face looks perfect again.

Next generation: I'm Monty Clift, being told once again, in the same soundstage, that my ruined, scarred-up car-crash face looks perfect again.

I'm "straight" in both lives.

We're Don Lockwood and Lina Lamont, the king and queen of the Monumental Pictures lot!

[quote[I am the "very realistic green scene" for when we have to drive car. You cannot tell I am here...

I can tell you weren't there either because what you're describing was called a "process shot" and they didn't have green screens back then, or in a black & white movie.

I'm "Mother Carey's Chickens"

Although I returned a modest profit you've probably never heard of me. I sent Katherine Hepburn running back to Broadway after she refused to star in me and broke her contract to RKO when they suspended her.

I ended up being made anyway with Ruby Keeler in the Hepburn role because we need to make new films for our own theaters to exhibit.

I'm Scotty Bowers, the gas station attendant down the road from the studio, gifting Spencer Tracy, Kate Hepburn, Walter Pidgeon, Charles Laughton and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor with hook-ups they'd never be able to make on their own.

I'm the opening credits that are over in half a minute (which was good). I'm several stars listed at once, on one card (Bette Davis, Anne Baxter, George Sanders, Gary Merrill in..., Marilyn Monroe, Joseph Cotten, Jean Peters in...). I'm the great scores by Franz Waxman, Max Steiner, Alfred Newman, Dimitri Tiomkin, Bernard Herrmann.

Vera's success didn't come from her skating or acting talent.

It came from being the producer's piece of pussy.

I'm Sidney Greenstreet. Despite being an accomplished Shakespearean, I am forever known as The Fat Man.

Sonja fucked Ty Power and young Gene Nelson.

Vera fucked Herbert J. Yates.

Sonja wins.

I’m Sylvia, busy stand-in shared by Hedy Lamarr and Joan Crawford.

I would very much like a vacation. And space from these two wackos.

Sonja? Vera? I could outskate those bitches any day of the week.

Stand aside

I'm the constant cigarette smoking.

I’m the Lena Horne musical number, filmed for easy editing out of films shown below the Mason Dixon line, so as not to offend Suthun sensibilities…

I've always wondered how many Lena Horne numbers were actually edited out in Southern theaters. I've looked for proof of it and never found any. Can't imagine it was easy to cut film at the local level, like, small town movie theaters. Did they really bother to cut numbers out of a film? Were the Nicholas Brothers also cut? Bill Robinson wasn't cut out when he danced with Shirley Temple. I doubt Paul Robeson singing Old Man River was cut out of Show Boat.

I am a shimmering, glowing star in the cinema firmament.

r128: I have heard that as well, the often retold story of Lena Horne's numbers being cut in the South is largely a fiction. One thing that is not fiction is that African-American numbers were strictly segregated (the Temple-Robinson numbers being a great exception, ditto the Kelly-Nicholas Brothers number in "The Pirate" with no interactions with white performers. Even when Martha Raye went under blackface to perform "Public Melody Number #1" with Louis Armstrong in "Artists and Models" (1937) the number was criticized as 'the mixing of the races is not wise:" and for a time Raye was wrongly perceived to be bi-racial.

The number was Vincente Minnelli's first work in Hollywood. He later disowned it.

R128 the Gavin biography of Horne did research on that topic and found it to be a much-repeated and largely-exaggerated fiction. It was not a widespread practice like the story makes it sound. Sometimes it was just the studio cutting her numbers, as they cut those of Astaire, Kelly, Garland, Sinatra, virtually every star at Metro then.

Nor did Horne ever do a number at MGM where she just leaned against a pillar, per Gavin.

No question there was plenty of racism though, both visible in the films they made and in what the stars had to endure while making them.

In the case of the sensational Ms. Horne, being cut even once is too often!

R130 Thanks! I always wanted to see that number.

[quote]One thing that is not fiction is that African-American numbers were strictly segregated (the Temple-Robinson numbers being a great exception, ditto the Kelly-Nicholas Brothers number in "The Pirate" with no interactions with white performers.

Right. Another exception was Can't Help Lovin Dat Man, from Show Boat (1936) with Helen Morgan, Irene Dunne, Hattie McDaniel and Paul Robeson. And Will Rogers singing with Hattie McDaniel in Judge Priest (1934).

I stand by my statement

I'm the lesbian

How did they name a Broadway Theater after Lena Horne, when there's no Ethel Merman Theatre or Mary Martin Theatre? Or Angela Lansbury, or Bernadette Peters.

Well it wasn't to check off some racial representation box to please the wokesters, r135!

It was most likely a gathering and ferocious cult-like appreciation for Lena's performance in "Jamaica" in 1957.

I'm the ubiquitous chiaroscuro lighting technique applied to Joan Crawford's close-ups in every single one of her pictures at Warner Bros. I'm supposed to reflect the internal conflict that Madame's characters struggle with, or the darkness in her heart, or maybe I'm just there to heighten the drama.

I'm Kay Francis, once the Queen of the Warner Bros lot, now slumming it at Monogram Pictures.

I’m the stage star who insists on doing their own makeup. Then they’re never hired in Hollywood again.