An Unconventional Speech

The year 1953 was one of particular progress and evolution for Agnes. She married her longtime companion Robert Gist; completed the final tour of Don Juan in Hell with the First Drama Quartette, which then disbanded; performed in her first film for Douglas Sirk, Magnificent Obsession creating what I believe to be one of her most brilliant characterizations; purchased the old Sigmund Romberg house on Roxbury Drive in Beverly Hills, which would serve as her beloved home for the rest of her life; and worked steadily at developing the material for her one-woman show, in which she would begin to tour the following year.

Requests to speak and give lectures to various groups and organizations, and at schools, colleges, and universities were sent to Agnes frequently throughout the years. One engagement Agnes accepted this year may have been particularly close to her heart as a student and teacher of public speaking -- to deliver the keynote address to the annual convention of the Western Speech Association (today known as the Western States Communication Association) held November 26 - 28 in Fresno, California. Agnes talked to them primarily about the production of Don Juan in Hell and about her upcoming theatrical venture The Fabulous Redhead. Excerpts from Agnes' speech would be published in the May 1954 edition of the Association's scholarly journal Western Speech, under the title "Staging Don Juan in Hell." What follows here is her speech as Agnes originally wrote it, from a carbon of her own typed copy.

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Speech for the Convention . . . Western Speech Association (Drama Educators)

It seems ages ago that I was in the south of France and received a cable from Charles Laughton and Paul Gregory asking me to join the cast of Don Juan in Hell -- so much sparking water has passed under the bridge since that time. Three years of pioneer trooping covering more than 180,000 miles, five tours in all, starting at Claremont California and carrying us through the English Provinces. Zigzagging back and forth through our country from New Orleans to Toronto Canada, playing in small or large cities, universities and colleges, in high school auditoriums and coliseums, anywhere our four stools, four music stands and four microphones could be comfortably or uncomfortably set up.

The preparation for this production was in itself exhausting, every sentence was analyzed, discussed and mulled over for hours each day until our collective brains were so full of opinions and arguments, pro and con, that many times Charles Laughton would throw up his hands and say "Let's all go home -- Call it a day, I'm too spent to go on."

Every sentence in Shaw's Don Juan in Hell is a challenge to the mind of every person who becomes privately aware of it -- either in reading it, or in seeing it performed, everything Shaw wrote on sex, marriage, politics, war, a hundred other subjects is here, in this brief, most brilliant, most penetrating manifestation of his mind and philosophy. There are themes for a dozen plays in it and the presentation of it offers an opportunity to all those who care about their minds and souls.

To hear it performed (and I think you will bear me out on this) is to come to grips with Shaw's greatness the easy way.

In talking to various drama groups all over the country, they invariably asked me the same questions. Tell us whose idea it was in the first place? Why was it staged in this way? Why did we use microphones and what was the purpose of the music stands and score books. It might interest you to know some of the answers to those questions. It really started from Mr. Laughton's reading. Paul Gregory happened to say one time that it would be wonderful to have four people, a quartette of actors reading contemporary or classical pieces such as Charles does on his tours. This set Charles to thinking and he told Paul that he had an idea. He read Don Juan in Hell to him, which you know is the dream sequence from Man and Superman, and immediately Paul said that it would have to be done. There was much talk over the choosing of a cast. I sometimes wonder how they ever saw me in such a glamorous role for usually I am relegated to those dreary, drab characters that are completely void of charm and beauty, though I must say they are usually the meatiest roles to play -- never-the-less I was so complimented to be their choice for Donna Ana they have my undying gratitude.

As you know Charles Boyer was cast for Don Juan, Sir Cedric Hardwicke for the role of the Statue, my father and that genius of guides, Charles Laughton played the devil. We all accepted without a question. Perhaps the reason we did stemmed from the fact that in this uncertain world there is nothing more uncertain than the career of an actor. His life may shift from comfort to poverty as quickly as the shifting of scenery on a stage. Rarely can he reckon upon an engagement of sufficient duration to give him -- well, even the solace of friends.

I must tell you that we memorized the parts before we started rehearsals. Mr. Boyer had the script for five months for his role is longer than Hamlet. Cedric and I had it a month and dear Charles has been sleeping with it under his pillow for twenty-five years.

Because we believe that the theater is not merely a place of amusement but a living power and should be used for good and not evil -- that it can be a great educational medium -- teaching an audience many things that would ultimately be lost to them -- widening their sympathies and broadening their intellects and sweetening their hearts (and I know I speak for Mr. Laughton and Mr. Gregory in this belief) because we believe in an ideal and in trying to surmount the economic hazard which has been strangling the theater for years -- these were the reasons that spurred the four of us to 'gird our loins' and begin a back-breaking tour. It had to be staged in an economical way or we would have had to give up the whole venture. I am sure those of you who are not familiar with the stupendous costs of production would be aghast at the figures. However, staging it in this manner required only six people in the company, four actors, a stage manager and crewman. Unfortunately we were required to take on as high as eleven men in some cities where the unions controlled the theater -- but we could travel all over the world with this staging giving the audiences good theater with comparatively little expense.

Some critics referred to this example of living theater as a new type of dramatic presentation. Actually it is over three thousand years old. It is the Greek form of presentation. It is a theater of words, their clash and clang -- their projection of ideas -- their power to tell all about everything -- whether you are dealing with winged words or the terse characteristic speech of our latest production of Herman Wouk's Caine Mutiny Court Marshall.

The music stands were used because of the symphonic nature of the piece. Charles recognized the great music in Don Juan and I must say it did our hearts good when Mr. Horowitz and Mr. Rubinstein came backstage and greeted us with "What music, what music!"

The word 'reading' is a misnomer even when the scores are used. They are used as props to heighten a sense of informality. It would be impossible to read them on stage. The glare of the lights would create too many problems. The pages were turned to relieve the eyes of the audience, for with so little movement from the actors the audience could easily become tired of watching them so intently.

Using the microphones served three purposes. You are aware that we played to audiences of from fifteen hundred people to thirteen thousand and that the acoustical qualities of the majority of the auditoriums were not good and Charles wanted everyone to hear every word. In regular theaters the microphones were either turned very low or were completely off. Each one of us had different levels which had to be carefully watched throughout each performance. The microphones served as amplifiers just as in the Greek Theater the masks and hollowed vases threw the voices of the muses out over the vast theater arenas.

The microphone also kept us in place. Because there was so little movement we had to have a good reason for using such small areas in which to work. Otherwise we would have had to move as in an ordinary performance and that would have entailed more props and scenery.

Don Juan in Hell runs over two hours without exits or entrances. There is an arbitrary intermission of only ten minutes so there had to be something on which the actor could rest, hence the four kitchen stools. I can tell you truthfully that I have been ever so much more comfortable on a stage and to be the scenery for my three compatriots was exhausting. It called for rigid discipline. Speaking of discipline I must tell you of an experience I had in Texas . . . . (Tell the Ant Story) . . . . I can fully appreciate the Philippine Ant Torture and feel I could play the role of the victim with real conviction if I was ever offered such a part.

I must tell you another amusing incident that a friend of mine overheard. As you know the roles that I play are pretty frightening and to see me look halfway attractive was rather shocking so I'm not surprised at anything said regarding my appearance -- but two women had trained their binoculars on me -- not opera glasses -- binoculars. My friend who was sitting beside them could not help overhearing their conversation . . . . (Tell the story of the hands) . . . . I'm sure that no one could convince them that it was all theatrical illusion.

So many things happen when a company travels together, amusing and tragic . . . . (Tell the college classmate story).

But it was a happy marriage of four personalities. We respected each other personally and professionally. No one was playing a solo performance. We knew that a certain percentage of people came to see personalities -- that they were curious to see how we looked, how we talked, we were vain as all actors, in thinking this -- but may I say that after the first twenty minutes that curiosity was satisfied and the audience could have yawned and left -- but they stayed to listen to Shaw. That was what we wanted. That was what we believed -- that audiences were hungry for good theater, that they were far above the low average mental level generally credited them by theatrical managers and producers . . . . and that great circles of culture were to be found all over this vast country of ours. This was exciting to me for all along the tour I reveled in the museums. What wonderful things are being done in the smallest towns! What fresh new perspectives in the arts! What hunger to learn! And how gratifying to the actor to be instrumental in some small way in satisfying that hunger. This is what Charles hoped to accomplish when we toured with Don Juan in Hell. And with his genius for acting and directing, his impeccable taste in literature I think he is advancing confidently in the direction of his dreams.

Charles has asked me to read one of the selections that I am going to do on this tour. A favorite writer, James Thurber has gathered some real Americana in his album. I found a chapter with a lovely title "Lavender With A Difference" in which he writes about his mother. She evidently was quite a prankster . . . . .

Learning how to do a thing is the doing of it, and as my father used to say, "I am buying some sandpaper to sandpaper my soul" for the tour is looming ahead, hoping that I can in some way follow in Charles' wake, trying to reach man's heart.

And now, if I may have a few more minutes of your time I'd like to have your reaction to the proposed closing of my one-woman show.

Charles has a very persuasive personality and persistent nature usually getting his way. For some time he has urged me to collect, write and edit material to make a varied and interesting program. This has finally been accomplished after a year of preparation. Some time in January I'll begin a tour with this show entitled The Fabulous Redhead.

Charles and I pondered over the closing of the show. He thought it best to end the program with two speeches of Eve's from Back to Methusalem. I had planned on using Sorry-Wrong Number for the finale but Charles decided this was too violent a note on which to close. Therefore I would like to read this speech of Eve's for you if you would like to hear it.

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I do wish that in her writing up of this address for the Western Speech Association, Agnes had included the three stories about the ants, the hands, and the college classmate; they are not present in the published article either. But I have read something regarding the story of the ants; that during one particular show of DJIH a swarm of ants descended upon the cast from the rigging equipment, and they had to continue the performance with ants crawling literally everywhere upon their persons.

One may notice some familiar phrases here, found in other of Agnes' original works such as the essay she wrote and recorded around this same time for broadcast on Edward R. Murrow's radio program This I Believe. When Agnes found a phrase that expressed precisely a viewpoint, she tended to stick with it; no doubt unaware that the information age would catch up with her.

The First Drama Quartette with Paul Gregory

Poll: Drama Lectures

As shared with us during his recent interview, Agnes' former student and employee Quint Benedetti still has the tapes he made of Agnes' lectures during the year he attended her drama school. This poll is to help assess the level of interest there might be in a CD-release of these lectures. Please select the response that most closely matches your feelings. If you would like to expand upon your point of view or ask a question on this subject, please leave a comment. This poll will be open until midnight (eastern time) of Wednesday 8 September 2010. Thank you.

A Session with Quint

Quentin Joseph Benedetti, or Quint as he is generally known, is familiar to most admirers of Agnes due to his close association with her during the final several years of her life. Mr. Benedetti has also, among his other talents, worked as a successful songwriter, actor, singer, producer, and public relations director. Earlier this summer he fulfilled a dream thirty years in the making by publishing his memoir (My Travels with) Agnes Moorehead -- The Lavender Lady, through Xlibris Publishers. Recently Mr. Benedetti, 84 years young and still pursuing his dreams, very kindly agreed to be interviewed for Aggie's Place, to share with us some additional insights on the subject of his book.

First I would like to thank you for persevering to get this book published -- it is a gift to all of Miss Moorehead's admirers. In reflecting on the year you spent in her drama school, you admit that despite her shortcomings as a drama teacher, you found Miss Moorehead to be ‘irresistible.’ Can you tell us a little more about that?

Perhaps “irresistible” isn’t the exact word I meant to describe Agnes. More like mesmerizing, spellbinding, like watching a great stage performance. Remember I was very vulnerable those days upon meeting this multifaceted lady. It was as though one were watching her perform on stage, which is exactly what she did in that school. She knew what she was about, but in my way of thinking didn’t know how to teach/convey it as effectively as a true teacher can reach the hearts and minds of their students. I was star-struck watching her emote in those classes, which she did to perfection. I was more fascinated with her actions and gestures than the content of what she was trying to teach us.

In observing Miss Moorehead at the school she impressed you as having the mysterious quality of a ‘divided personality’ in that she had an obvious love of money and wealth yet would also make personal sacrifices to help others. Did you find that this carried over into other facets of her life, beyond the drama school?

I don’t recall observing her ‘divided personality’ outside of acting class. She showed this side of her nature in the school to some of the derelict, strange, young aspiring actors with whom she was using her motherly instincts. This was part of her religious, do-gooder side. To me, though, it was still a performance and never quite seemed honest. Agnes was always “on” but I didn’t realize this until later, as I grew to know her better. She was a true actress in every way. She made it seem real but I have always been able to see and hear things from people like her that many people miss.

Once you began working with Miss Moorehead she would talk with you on many subjects including her father and her foster son Sean. Could you share with us one or two such memorable accounts?

She adored her father and often spoke of his kindness and the way he had related to her. Until I met her mother Molly, I felt that her father had been all to her, and responsible for her success. In passing she would talk about her foster son Sean, and again Agnes’ maternal side came out (again a performance, I later discovered.) One time while we were on the road, we received a phone call from Freddie Jones, her loyal maid telling Agnes that the house in Beverly Hills had been robbed; her bedroom wall lock box, if I remember correctly, had been taken. Immediately Agnes told me it had to be Sean who did it. It was at times like these that she would let slip that their relationship was not all she protested it to be.

Miss Moorehead had related to you some ‘lovely, respectful stories’ of her association with Charles Laughton, from when they were working out the format of her one-woman show in the early 1950s. Could you share one of these stories here with us?

Charles Laughton and she were very close as artists and Laughton was the one, according to Agnes, who taught her the fundamentals of acting that made her so great. She used to talk about their sessions in the theatre and he was given the credit for convincing her to do her one-woman show. The two of them read over four hundred pieces of prose, poetry etc. in order to arrive at some thirty or more that would work on stage. This intrigued me about her always, her loyalty to those who had groomed her.

In getting to know Miss Moorehead's mother Molly and visiting in her Wisconsin home, did Mrs. Moorehead sometimes talk with you about her family, such as her younger daughter Margaret (Peggy)?

When I met Molly Moorehead, Agnes’ mother, it didn’t take me long to realize that, after all the protesting of how wonderful her father had been, her mother was actually the stronger mentor. Molly, a little delightful Scotch-Irish lady, was probably the most influential person behind Agnes. Molly is the only one I have ever known who could upstage Agnes. Her mother was loving but very authentic and often times when they were in disagreement, Molly would come out on top. Once when Molly was with us at a performance of Agnes’ one-woman show, a lady came up to Molly and said, “You must be so proud of your daughter.” Molly snapped back, “I had two daughters,” referring to Agnes’ sister who had passed away in her early twenties. When I stayed at Molly’s home overnight on occasions, there would be photos of this sister about whom Agnes never talked with me in all the times we were alone together. I got the impression that Agnes was “daddy’s girl” while her sister had been more closely connected to Molly. [With Agnes it was not always what she would say, but what she didn’t say.] Molly was a delight and in watching her interact with Agnes I learned more about who was who and what was what.

In your travels with Miss Moorehead you had opportunity to meet some of her friends outside of show business, such as Mrs. Mary Roebling. Can you tell us something about those friendships?

Agnes and Mary Roebling, President of Trenton Trust Bank in New Jersey, were introduced to one another when Agnes performed in the New York/New Jersey area. As I have mentioned in the book Agnes liked affluence, and from before I had started working for her, she would stay at the Roebling home when in New York, which was a very elegant apartment in a Manhattan high rise. I stayed in the guest’s quarters a couple of times. Mary Roebling was a real business lady but down to earth. It was prestigious for Mary to show off Agnes to her friends, and Agnes enjoyed being close to the affluence of this well-known banker. They always seemed to have great respect for one another. I remember one time while at one of Mary Roebling’s parties, I met and was smitten with one of the lovely female guests/relatives . . . both Mary and Agnes broke that up when they saw the young girl and me taking a fancy to one another, sending me on an errand to split us apart.

In the chapter on your 1969 summer stock experiences with Miss Moorehead, you mention that you would fix ‘pepper-uppers’ for her in the kitchen. Since she is known as a fairly abstemious person, can you relate to us what would have served as a pep-up for her?

The pepper-uppers that I would fix for Agnes consisted of a lot of T.L.C. Pampering her, fixing her tea, some of her favorite light foods, and just being especially kind and available, making certain that she got her rest and keeping a lot of her eager fans away from her. She truly appreciated this, especially before her performances. She spoke to no one unless she needed something for the show. I soon learned to be quiet but available to her during those times. I was acutely aware of these times when she was vulnerable.

Some of Miss Moorehead's friends have commented that she would over the years talk with them about her own perceived inability to trust people and to feel deeply for them, despairing of this. Based on the years you spent in her company, would you tend to agree that this was so?

Yes Agnes occasionally, when in a reflective mood, commented about her inability to trust others. She did have some close friends from the theatre/movies, though, with whom she would occasionally have dinner such as Greer Garson and husband, Harry Karl and Debbie Reynolds, Ann Miller and friends, Eve Arden and husband, to name a few.

Although she was already in her late sixties/early seventies when you knew her, did Miss Moorehead ever speak with you about any relationships of a romantic nature -- other than the two men she married -- perhaps from her past?

The only relationship before or after both of her husbands that I was aware of, whom Agnes often mentioned, was Cesar Romero. She was very fond of him and he was her close friend and usual escort. With Bewitched and her one-woman show she didn't have a lot of time to go out “on the town.” Mostly she would share the enjoyment of home dinner engagements with her theatre friends, such as Greer Garson and husband, etc.

Toward the end of the book you mention, “The Lavender Lady's demise was my rebirth.” What do you feel was one of the greatest life-lessons you learned while working with Miss Moorehead?

As mentioned earlier in the book, I had just come from Ohio following a very ugly divorce, which had also created a rift with one of my brothers. After moving to California and working with a therapist at UCLA I was able to renew my creative music and theater endeavors that took me to Agnes. Agnes, by her unconditional acceptance of me and my talents and worth, gave me back my life without knowing it. I will always be indebted to her for this. I went from a fearful boy to a grounded man, and at 84 I look back at my association with Agnes Moorehead and Dr. Stone and will always be grateful to them for bringing out the best in me, which had been negated by the prior events of my life.

It is such a pleasure to read in your book the excerpts of Miss Moorehead's lectures to her drama classes. If you still have the audio recordings you made of those lectures, Mr. Benedetti, would you consider releasing them on CD? These recordings could be of help to drama students and of great interest to Miss Moorehead's admirers.

I will eventually have the audio recordings digitized and release them, but I am still looking for an engineer with the necessary equipment who could master the tape and transfer to CD. The old tape recordings are very fragile and I don't want to let just anyone transfer them to CD for me. I am the eternal optimist and still believe, as you, that they would be of help to current and future drama students. I have the lectures on my agenda. I will keep you advised when I can properly transfer the tape to CD.

Now that your book is published are you working on a new project?

My next project is my all-black musical Topsy, Or Sorry About That Harriett!, loosely adapted from Harriett Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom’s Cabin. In 1985 I presented the show in an Equity waiver production for six weeks in Hollywood. Some friends videotaped four different performances, from which I pieced together the complete show. I've shopped it around to theatre friends of mine who feel I should not abandon the project and eventually will find the theatre group, director, or someone who is looking for a new unusual project. I am proud of the show, which I wrote while working with Agnes. She encouraged me to continue polishing it and again, this is one of the reasons I feel indebted to Agnes for believing in me.

When you think back over the years of your association with Miss Moorehead as your teacher, employer, co-worker, friend -- what is your most endearing memory of her?

My most endearing memory of Agnes is when we were alone traveling in the car where we both could be real and authentic with one another, something I never experienced back in Ohio with my family.

Agnes and Quint at her Christmas party 6 December 1969

Summer Holiday

Agnes' first MGM musical, and first color motion picture, Summer Holiday has been released for the first time on DVD, through the Warner Archive on 26 July. Based on the Eugene O'Neill play Ah, Wilderness, this Arthur Freed/Rouben Mamoulian production was filmed in 1946, but release was held until 1948 for concern that it would lose money, which in fact it did. Although not successful at the box office nor with critics, this film is considered to be an artistic success as the first filmed musical play, a departure from screen musical conventions until that time. [There is a good write-up of the production in Hugh Fordin's book M-G-M's Greatest Musicals: the Arthur Freed Unit.]

The film is faithful to O'Neill's play -- much of the dialog being left intact -- which is a slice of a Connecticut family's small-town life in the first decade of the twentieth century. There is a preamble added, showing some family events prior to the Independence Day holiday where the play opens, and the main character of the son Richard is made a bit more subversive -- not just a love-struck teen but one who espouses radical, communist philosophies (yes -- in an Arthur Freed production!) Richard is played by Mickey Rooney, in one of his final pictures under contract to MGM; Gloria De Haven is his girlfriend Muriel. Other notable performers include Walter Huston as his father Nat Miller, Frank Morgan as his mother's brother Sid Davis, and Agnes as his father's sister Lily Miller. Besides the main romance between Richard and Muriel there is another between Sid and Lily who have been on-again-off-again for years due to Sid's drinking problem.

The shoot was difficult during a particularly hot summer, still it must have been enjoyable for Agnes as she liked working with Frank Morgan and Mickey Rooney, and became good friends with lyricist Ralph Blane (who would ask her to be the godmother of his only child). Although Lily is a spinster aunt in her early forties, which Agnes has played before, this one has work, as a school teacher; is loved by her family, as well as by Sid; has a natural, pleasant personality; and is just plain beautiful. One can see the only reason she is unmarried is because she couldn't give her love to a man who could not abstain from drink. But perhaps there is hope for Sid and Lily yet.



Although this is a musical Agnes doesn't have too much opportunity to sing in the film as released. In the opening number "Our Home Town," Agnes has a few lines, where she is turning down Sid's latest marriage proposal, but they are spoken on rhythm rather than sung. She does sing in "The Stanley Steamer," but in an ensemble section and her voice can't readily be distinguished. In the "Independence Day" song at the picnic we do get to hear her sing a couple of lines, which is the only place since the number she shared with Frank Morgan, "Never Again" was cut as Roger Edens is said to have been displeased with Mr. Morgan's singing -- but even there it was mostly Mr. Morgan's song -- and her solo from "The Stanley Steamer" was cut. [Note that audio outtakes from the film are available on the Rhino Handmade 2004 CD release of the sound track.]

Here is an outtake from "The Stanley Steamer," where Agnes sings a one minute solo:


Agnes is forty-five here and so lovely in this characterization, sharing a good light-hearted romantic chemistry with Frank Morgan. We can see the blue of her eyes and the more natural auburn coloring of her hair, before it was made a more vibrant shade of red some years hence. Lily Miller is a welcome departure from the typecasting to which Agnes had become subjected from her earliest years in Hollywood -- even more so than Aspasia Conti in Mrs. Parkington, because unlike Aspasia, Lily is genuine, not a phony pretending to be someone she is not.

Agnes was familiar with O'Neill's Ah, Wilderness before making this picture for MGM -- in 1939 she co-starred in Orson Welles' radio production for the Campbell Playhouse, playing Richard's mother Mrs. Essie Miller. Ray Collins played her husband Nat Miller, and Mr. Welles played Richard. A recording of this broadcast may be heard here:

Villa Agnese

Back on Valentine's Day we took a little tour of Agnes' cherished home on Roxbury Drive in Beverly Hills, Villa Agnese, as it was when she lived there. On 19 May 2010, the current owner Merri Jean Ross, like Agnes a very spiritual and religious person, placed the house on the market. Offered through multiple listing service the house is represented by many area realtors, such as this one. The original asking price of $19,000,000 was yesterday lowered to $15,900,000.

Constructed in 1926, the house has two stories, 22 rooms total including eight bedrooms and seven full baths. The total square footage of the house is 11,703 and of the lot 29,120. Aside from some renovations and redecorating, the house and grounds are very much as they had been during Agnes' tenure, and still very beautiful. Have a look around:

National Radio Hall of Fame - class of 2010

It gives me great pain to advise that Agnes has been passed over for the National Radio Hall of Fame again this year. The only posthumous inductee for 2010 will be Sam Phillips.

When it comes to formal recognition for her artistic contributions, this woman just cannot get a break.

My thanks to anyone who may have submitted a letter on Agnes' behalf.

Films in Review

The National Board of Review of Motion Pictures published the magazine Films in Review from 1950 to 1997. Films in Review was considered to be the first magazine of its kind, a serious film periodical which included such features as biographies, retrospectives, book reviews, interviews, and essays on film history. Well-known filmmakers would occasionally contribute articles. [The publication continues today under new ownership, in online format.]

Ronald L. Bowers was a film journalist and co-author with James Robert Parish of the book The MGM Stock Company: the Golden Era. Mr. Bowers wrote many articles for FIR from the 1950s through the 1980s, including motion picture reviews and articles on such varied actors as Vivien Leigh, Robert Taylor, Ruby Keeler, Joan Blondell, Lucille Ball, and Agnes Moorehead.

Mr. Bowers began the process of researching his article on Agnes by interviewing her in New York during the run of the 1962-63 season's play Lord Pengo. He continued by gleaning all information he could from such sources as Roy Buchanan and the AM Fan Club, reference texts, periodicals, theater programs; following up with Agnes' secretary to clarify and augment the information, and fact-checking along the way. Although his article -- which focused on Agnes' career in accordance with her wishes -- had been complete and accepted for publication in FIR by the fall of 1963, editor Henry Hart tabled the article until 1966, at which time Mr. Bowers performed some follow-up research and revision to refresh the article.

From our current-day perspective several errors of fact can be identified in Mr. Bowers' article, and I myself might disagree with some of the conclusions he drew, but he did an admirable job given the resources available at that time. For those who would like to read the article as published in the pages of the May 1966 issue of Films In Review, please click on the slideshow below for larger, readable images.



When Agnes passed away in 1974 Mr. Bowers wrote a supplement to his article, published in the Letters section of the August/September 1974 issue of FIR:

Mystery Guest

Shortly after opening on Broadway in the musical Gigi, Agnes appeared as the mystery guest on the episode of What's My Line? broadcast 23 November 1973. Personally I think Agnes made it too easy for the panel -- she didn't disguise her distinctive voice very much.

Although near to the end of her life here, Agnes looks and sounds pretty good, if with unmaskable pain upon sitting and standing. When Agnes would leave Gigi two months later due to failing health, it would be WML panelist Arlene Francis who would take over her role. Here is Agnes' segment.

Skeet Shooter

Agnes guest starred in the telefilm The Ballad of Andy Crocker, originally broadcast 18 November 1969 by ABC. In this another of her nugget-roles, Agnes has a single three-and-a-half minute scene portraying a wealthy, disapproving Texas mother whose passion for skeet shooting is exercised on a daily basis. Lift that shotgun a little higher, Aggie.

Conversation with an Old Friend

Tom Margittai has been a hard-working individual with a long, successful career in the dining industry. Perhaps best known as co-owner and -operator of the Four Seasons restaurant in New York, and co-author of The Four Seasons Cookbook, his efforts have been praised in the media over the years, as in this 3 November 1986 feature in New York magazine. He was also a friend and favorite escort to Agnes, who from the mid-1960s through early 1970s, when she had an upcoming trip to New York would make a special effort to get in touch and arrange a get-together. Recently Mr. Margittai, now retired, very kindly consented to be interviewed for Aggie's Place, speaking candidly about this old friend, for which I am most grateful.

When did you first become acquainted with Agnes Moorehead and what were the circumstances that crossed your path with hers?

I met Agnes Moorehead socially in San Francisco when she visited a mutual friend, Guy Roop, in 1960 and spent a few days. Guy Roop was an architectural historian, interior designer, and director of the San Francisco branch of the W. J. Sloane furniture store.

As you got to know each other, what sorts of things did you tend to talk about and what activities would you share?

We talked about what stars and actors usually talk about. Themselves, their career, their frustrations, their past and people in their lives. We shared meals and shopping.

Did you and Miss Moorehead sometimes get together outside of New York? For example, did you ever visit her Beverly Hills home or her farm in Ohio, or travel together?

I did visit her in Beverly Hills. We stayed in touch and occasionally met in cities where and when our itineraries coincided. I remember particularly meeting in Chicago and sharing a lunch at the Ambassador's famous restaurant where everybody ate when traveling on the 20th Century train that stopped in Chicago. I think she was on her way to or from Beverly Hills to somewhere and I attended a meeting there.

When dining together, can you recall what she enjoyed most?

She liked good food, was knowledgeable about it and enjoyed good restaurants.

Did Miss Moorehead sometimes speak with you about her family? For example, can you recall what she may have said about her father and mother, her younger sister Margaret (Peggy) or her foster child Sean?

She did talk about her first husband and his alcoholism, don't remember anything about her father, her mother only came up at the end when she was going to stay with her after Mayo Clinic. Peggy never came up. Sean was the subject of many discussions. Aggie was not cut out to be a mother. She put Sean in a boarding school in Switzerland far away from her at an early age where Sean was unhappy. When back in Beverly Hills at age thirteen or fourteen, a very difficult age, Aggie had no patience with him, tried strict edicts that did not work and according to her told him that the next time he came home late at night he would find the door locked. When that happened according to Aggie he disappeared and she never heard from him again nor did she try to find him. I asked her wasn't she worried or concerned about him, and she said that he had been warned, had been given a chance, and he had made his own choice.

Sean had worked one summer for Harry Karl, Debbie Reynold's husband, in his shoe business, but Sean was a spoiled, show-business child who wanted to party late into the night. Discipline was very important to Aggie and Sean wasn't willing to follow her rules. I heard from a Norwegian professor who was researching her life that Sean may have died young.

Do you know why Miss Moorehead would have taken in a foster child, if as you said she was not cut out to be a parent?

I have no idea, unless it might have been for a religious reason. I found her to be cold in her dealings with him.

Did you ever see Miss Moorehead perform live on stage, such as on Broadway or in her one-woman show? If so, can you tell us something about that experience?

I saw her in Don Juan in Hell in New York, in 1973. She was a consummate professional, very disciplined actress, who came up the hard way and complained often about the younger generation that always chose the easy way.

Outside of her two marriages virtually nothing is known of Miss Moorehead's emotional attachments. During the time of your acquaintance with her, did she ever speak with you about a person she may have been dating or with whom she may have been involved romantically?

Zero. Her attachments were to her profession, to herself, possibly to some of her friends, but I never knew her to be romantically involved with anyone at all. In my experience she was not a warm person. She was an outspoken individual with strong opinions, a strong-willed person, but I never saw emotional warmth in her.

Did Miss Moorehead sometimes speak with you about her religious beliefs?

No, maybe because she knew that I was not a religious person. But I was aware that she was religious.

When was the last time you saw and/or spoke with Miss Moorehead, and how did she seem to you at that time?

In January 1974 she was in New York and I took her for dinner to the house of friends of mine who were excellent cooks and had a wonderful town house in New York's east side off Park Avenue. She said that she took time off from her touring because she was extremely tired and had a cough she could not get rid of. She looked tired and drawn but enjoyed the evening and was animated. The next time I heard from her was when she called me shortly after her trip to New York to tell me that she was at Mayo Clinic in Rochester for tests. She said she would call me to let me know. She did call to say that she was going to undergo surgery for lung cancer(?). I later learned from a Norwegian University Professor, who attempted her biography never published to my knowledge, that it may have been a stomach cancer. At any rate she called me from her mother's home, only once, to tell me that she went there to recuperate after Mayo. I called there several times and talked to her mother who told me repeatedly that she was too sick and weak to talk on the phone. Sometime in April I heard on the radio that she had died.

[Note: Regarding Agnes' final illness, her death certificate reports that she had succumbed to widely metastasized cancer which had begun as uterine cancer in 1972. It's very possible that when she passed away on 30 April 1974 that the cancer had spread to the lungs and/or stomach -- especially since we have reports from friends such as Debbie Reynolds and Mary Roebling that she was eating very little by the time she was in New York for Gigi, due to frequently upset stomach. The cough may have been due to pneumonia, for which she was initially treated upon entering the Mayo Clinic later in January of 1974.]

When you think of Agnes Moorehead, what are your most vivid memories of her, as an artist and as your friend?

I liked Agnes Moorehead enormously for her talent, her intelligence and her success against all odds. She felt that she was a woman alone in man's world and that she had to fight for everything she had and or achieved. She was incredibly loyal to her friends, did not suffer fools lightly. Her friendships with Charles Laughton and Orson Welles were legendary and I know that she liked me. When we met her artistic career was mostly behind her, she was thinking of coaching, teaching and directing, and Bewitched came along and helped her out financially and she became a celebrity. She was not thrilled with that but grinned and bore it when children of all ages and their parents flocked to her and she dutifully gave them her autograph. She was lonely and needed friends that were not "in the business" that she could trust. I was unattached all this time and appreciated our get togethers and her confidence. In many ways she was extraordinary and one of a kind.