D. Day

So, the last few days I've been reading Doris Day: The Untold Story of the Girl Next Door by David Kaufman, one of the most recent biographies of the subject. It's pretty damn great. I've always been more a fan of her than of her movies (oddly, my favorite film of Day's is The Glass Bottom Boat, a completely goofy live-action cartoon directed by Frank Tashlin that makes me giggle helplessly).

                                                                         (Don't even ask...)

The Untold Story follows pretty closely Day's own autobiography (published early in the 1970's) but of course it brings us up to date with what she's been doing since (I'd had no idea that her troubled son Terry died a few years ago, or that she's been re-married for the fourth time and since divorced).

A little background: She was born Doris Kappelhof in Cincinatti, the daughter of German-American parents,  in 1922. A professional dancer even as a child, she was nearly killed in a terrible accident as a teenager when the car she was riding in was hit by a train, and during her time recuperating she started to work on her singing voice, going on the road as a singer with various bands, eventually having a number one song with Sentimental Journey, the beginning of a stream of hit records.

Although pretty, hard-working and friendly to everyone, her personal life wasn't nearly as successful: She married a charming psychopath named Al Jorden, who beat her mercilessly and nearly killed her on a few occasions and when she finally left him (after bearing his son) she married a very nice guy she felt no passion for; this marriage also ended in divorce.

(Doris seems pretty upset)

Signed to a movie contract, she became a star in her first picture Romance On The High Seas and Warners soon discovered they had a triple threat on their hands: Doris was a naturally gifted dancer and actress and she was a superlative singer.

And she became the Number One female box-office attraction of all time.

Untold Story has a wealth of information that Doris' own autobiography lacks, and does a great job of providing context, lengthy interviews and background-There's a lot here I never knew about Miss Day!

Although clearly an admirer, the author isn't afraid to include some rather unflattering interviews about his subject by some of the people closest to her at some points. She seems to have had (or to have developed) an almost uncanny ability to wipe people completely from her mind if she felt (correctly or not) that they'd wronged her, never to speak to them again. None of this bothers me a bit; after spending so much of her Hollywood life being  " Little Miss Co-operative", one can imagine she got taken advantage of a lot.

(she was also weirdly insecure about her looks, especially her freckles, which I think were adorable!)

And although everyone agrees third husband Marty Melcher was a sleazy opportunist who financially took her for a ride, people who knew both note that he did a lot of the dirty work for her, firing friends/fans-turned-assistants because she wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs. Still she comes across likeable and human here.

(with her "My Buddy", Rock Hudson; outside of Billy De Wolfe--another gay guy--probably the best friend she ever had)

Toward the tail end of her career in the mid 1960's, it became fashionable to dismiss the sunny Day (and many of her films) as corny, old fashioned, etc, a notion which is refuted here astutely.

I was delighted to read here that the brilliant, pioneering feminist author and critic Molly Haskell is a huge fan of hers.

(Even Doris seems startled by all the critical respect she's been receiving lately)

Favorite quote in the book: "...Day is particularly relevant today in prefiguring a less repressive, more equal sexuality... Moreover, saying 'No' to manipulative sexual situations is not the same thing as clinging to one's virginity."

Bam!

Even more than her films (which I always like) or her music (which I always love*) I love Doris Day for her advocacy for animals, especially dogs. God knows how much of her personal time, not to mention her enormous fortune, she has devoted to her various foundations for strays and neglected/abused pets. As she's quoted in The Untold Story: "I've never met a dog I didn't like-I can't say the same for people." (Can't say I disagree with her, either!)

(Doris will cut a bitch)

And of course, Miss Day had a casual, friendly relationship with someone I might have mentioned here before, some actress named Joan Crawford.

 They probably met in 1949, when Joanie appeared as herself in a brief scene in Days It's A Great Feeling, slyly spoofing her Oscar-winning Mildred Pierce. 

But there was another, more important bond-JC was an unrepentant, confirmed lover of dogs, too (in fact, she kept her beloved "Princess" with her as long as she was able to, giving her to a close friend just a few days before she died).

In The Untold Story, author Kaufman recounts Day holding a fund-raiser for an animal shelter that ultimately netted almost $70,000: "She was particularly grateful to Joan Crawford for donating 30,000 Pepsi-Colas--plus helpers to dispense them."

And I'm tossing this in, just 'cause this picture makes me feel good.

(Eunice and Ernie--Doris' and Rock's lifelong nicknames for each other--just kicking back).

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And in sadder news, Cha Cha DiGregorio has left the gymnasium... 

"They call me 'Cha Cha' because I'm the best dancer at St. Bernadette's."

"Yeah, with the worst reputation!"

Annette Charles Cardona (accomplished dancer, choreographer and teacher) died yesterday at age 63. We'll miss her.

 

I always have a soft spot for those sassy bad girls from, oh, only the Greatest Movie Ever Made!!! (aka Grease)

But anyway, Ms. Doris Day is still with us.

I hope she lives forever.
*Years ago, my best bud gave me Doris Day's Greatest Hits CD as (I guess) kind of a joke at Christmas (me being more Aerosmith/Def Lepperd oriented at the time). I think he ultimately regretted it: I've been singing along to "My Dreams Are Getting Better All The Time" in the car ever since.
Doris Day had the greatest voice of the twentieth century, far preferable (to me, anyway) to Judy Garland or Barbra Streisand. Streisand had an instrument but no soul. Garland had a soul and an instrument, but increasingly played to the balcony. Day had an instrument, a buoyant, slightly melancholy tone and-whatever the lyrics she was singing-a soul that she kept all to herself. Insecure in many normal ways (her appearance, her acting, etc), she was a fucking surgeon about that voice, and usually the songs she lent it to, that she tried to open up,as well.
I'd love to figure out who she's singing to.