With Halloween pranks and practical jokes approaching, here are a few with a Hollywood twist. I once inadvertently pulled a practical joke on David Niven, after a long lunch at Club 21, the famous New York restaurant which had once been a speakeasy. I was in New York to check on the filming of the first “Pink Panther” film in which Niven had a co-starring role with Peter Sellers. During lunch, Niven had done some reminiscing: “You know,” he said, “I came to this country first as a bootlegger representing Ballantyne scotch in my native Scotland. My first sale was to Club 21 which was a speakeasy during your Prohibition.” Then Niven yelled, “Hey, waiter, what is your bar Scotch?” The waiter answered, “Ballantyne.” Turning to me Niven said, “That’s great. They’re still using it.” So I ordered a Ballantyne. And so did he. After lunch, Niven excused himself to return to the studio for some wardrobe tests. I had a few more shots of Ballantyne and followed him over to the set. One piece of his wardrobe was a gorilla suit. The wardrobe man wanted to take it back to the storeroom, but Niven said, “Leave it here. Jim Bacon’s coming to see me and I want to greet him in this gorilla suit.” Niven recently had joined Dick Powell, Ida Lupino, Charles Boyer in a television company called Four Star. I was scheduled to see him at 2 p.m. However, there was knock on the door of his dressing room. The door opened and it was not me, but a sponsor who was visiting the studio. He was accompanied by his wife and three kids. Niven greeted the sponsor in the gorilla suit. The gorilla suit scared the hell out of the little kids. I showed up a moment later. Niven was apologizing, but it was no use. The sponsor didn’t get the joke. He cancelled his deal with the company.
Two of my good friends in Hollywood were Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre, masters of horror on screen, Boris as the Frankenstein monster and Peter as a menacing sidekick. These two guys, however, were entirely different in person. Each had a dry sense of humor. I remember going with the two of them to the funeral of Bela Lugosi, renowned as the cinema’s Dracula. Boris thought that his good friend Bela was putting us on. He leaned over the coffin and said to Bela: “C’mon, Bela. The sun is up. You can rise from this coffin, like you always do every night.” Bela, resplendent in white tie and tails, didn’t make a move. So then Peter Lorre had his say: “Bela, you will disappoint all your fans by lying there.” Can you imagine what a photo op that would have made with Boris and Peter gazing at Bela in his coffin. But there was no photographer there. Then there was the time that Boris, on his first day of wardrobe fittings when he emerged as the monster Frankenstein. In full costume, he decided to drive from the San Fernando Valley studio across town to Beverly Hills fifteen miles away. As he drove, astonished motorists swerved out of his path. Arriving at the house of his good friend Groucho Marx, he rang the doorbell. Groucho’s housekeeper opened the door and fainted on the spot. Boris entered and climbed the stairs one by one clomping his heavy feet. He approached Groucho’s bedroom where the famed comedian was playing his mandolin. Boris, the monster, peeked in the door and said: “Hello, Groucho I just happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to say hello.” Boris then closed the door and retreated down the stairs, after scaring the hell out of Groucho.”
Errol Flynn went to the wake of John Barrymore in a funeral home where he and other Barrymore friends toasted the departed actor with plenty of Scotch. Flynn left the wake for a date with a young girl and didn’t return to his home on Mulholland Drive until 2 a.m. There, seated on an easy chair, was the dead Barrymore, holding a glass of Scotch. Unknown to Flynn, director Raoul Walsh had given a mortuary attendant five hundred dollars to play the prank on Flynn. When Errol told me the story, I asked him what he did upon seeing Barrymore’s corpse. “I did the only decent thing,” Errol said. “I sat down with him and had a Scotch.” Soon the rest of the people at the wake came out from behind the curtains and joined Flynn and Barrymore. They toasted the departed actor until dawn. Victor Mature was one of Hollywood’s great characters. Jim Backus told the story of how shortly after World War II, Vic played a centurion in the movie, Androcles and the Lion. “I played an enlisted man in the Roman army,” said Backus. “One day, Vic and I, wearing our full Roman military regalia, decided to drive to Pasadena for lunch. We walked into a bar and startled all the customers, but were not served promptly. Vic began pounding on the bar and shouted: “What’s the matter with this joint? Don’t you serve servicemen?” Another Backus story: “I was cast in the film Ice Palace with Richard Burton. We were drinking Scotch in his hotel room in Point Barrow, Alaska. We needed more ice cubes for our whiskey. “Richard opened the door and shouted down to the hotel clerk, ‘We need more ice.’ “At that very moment, an iceberg floated by a seaside room and smashed the window in Richard’s room. “Richard walked over to the door and again yelled down to the desk clerk, ‘This is ridiculous. But thanks anyhow.’” I’m happy to see that the Thalians have picked Mickey Rooney to be honored as a “National Treasure” at their 54th anniversary ball November first at the Beverly Hilton. It’s hard to believe that Mickey turned 89 on September 23. Few living today can remember how big Mickey was back in the 1930s. As MGM’s Andy Hardy, Mickey was the top box office star in the movies from 1939 to 1941. He also was a great off-screen lover. He has written endorsements by the first of his eight wives, Ava Gardner, and by Norma Shearer, queen of the MGM lot and widow of the legendary production chief Irving Thalberg. Mickey once gave the best definition of alimony I’ve ever heard. He said, “Alimony is pumping gas into the other guy’s car.” Mickey’s luck with women improved during a downturn in his career in the 1970s when he was reduced to working in dinner theaters. In 1978, he married wife No. 8, singer Jan Chamberlin, to whom he’s been happily married for 21 years. And a year, later he was cast with Anne Miller in the burlesque hit Sugar Babies. The show earned millions for its backers and for its two stars who had a big piece of the show. The Thalians ball this year also will honor the USO, the organization which has kept U.S. servicemen entertained since World War II. Few Hollywood charities have contributed so much to Los Angeles as the Thalians with the mental health facility they built and donated and still support at Cedars Sinai. Ruta Lee and Debbie Reynolds have been the driving force of the Thalians over the years. Speaking of major Hollywood charities, the third generation is beginning to take the reigns in support off Danny Thomas’ famed St. Judes Children’s Hospital in Memphis, Tennesee. Danny’s granddaughter Dionne Kirschner recently hosted a benefit dinner for 200 of Hollywood’s younger generation. Dionne follows in the footsteps of her mother Terri who along with Danny’s other children, Marlo and Tony Thomas have been raising funds for that great institution since the death of their parents, Danny and Rosemary Thomas. I once visited the hospital with my good friend Danny’s publicist Maury Folodare and was astounded at the wonderful care and research going on there. It was Danny’s dream to build a world class children’s research hospital which would never turn away a child whose family could not pay. He realized his dream and his children and grandchildren are continuing his legacy.