Wednesday, September 30, 2026

THE MYSTERIOUS ANDY KAUFMAN

Andy Kaufman didn’t want to make you laugh—he wanted to make you uncomfortable. Onstage, he wasn’t a comedian in the traditional sense. He called himself a “song and dance man,” but what he really was… was a disruptor.

On Taxi, he played Latka Gravas, the sweet, mumbling mechanic with a childlike innocence. Viewers adored him. But Kaufman resented being boxed into a sitcom character. Offscreen, he waged war on expectations. He’d walk onto a comedy stage, read The Great Gatsby out loud for half an hour, and refuse to stop. The audience thought it was a prank. It wasn’t—he was serious.

Kaufman invented personas like Tony Clifton, a chain-smoking, foul-mouthed lounge singer who heckled audiences so brutally people stormed out. The brilliance? Kaufman never admitted Clifton was him. Even his closest friends sometimes weren’t sure. He blurred the line between performance and life until there was no line at all.

His infamous wrestling act—challenging women in the ring, declaring himself the “Inter-Gender Wrestling Champion of the World”—was equal parts comedy, cruelty, and genius. Crowds booed, enraged. Kaufman thrived on that outrage. He didn’t care if people loved him. He wanted them to feel something real in the middle of a fake show.


But behind the chaos was a man with quiet contradictions. Friends described him as gentle, almost shy, someone who meditated daily, adored his family, and sometimes longed for the same acceptance he claimed to reject. He died young—just 35, from cancer—but even then, many fans refused to believe it. They thought it was one last bit, a final performance. Decades later, conspiracy theories still circulate that Andy Kaufman faked his death.

Maybe that’s the point. Andy Kaufman didn’t just change comedy—he changed the very idea of what comedy could be.

Because for him, the greatest punchline was leaving us unsure whether the joke was ever really a joke...



Saturday, September 26, 2026

THE EULOGY OF AL JOLSON

Comedian George Jessel gave the eulogy for Al Jolson's funeral in October of 1950. They were lifelong friends, and Jessel's words were well said...


A BREEZE FROM San Francisco Bay and the life of the greatest minstrel that America has ever known is in the balance. A turn of a card -- a telling of a gag -- and within a few moments, a wife, a legion of friends, and a nation are broken-hearted. So it was and so, alas, it is the passing from this earthly scene of Al Jolson. And the voice that once put majesty into the American popular song must from now on come from a disc instead of the heart, from whence it came.

Oh, my friends, I know it is the purpose of the speaker at times like these to voice lofty phrases of consolation about a life full lived and a happy conclusion to a great career. But I, contemporary of Al's, find myself too shocked and torn within to say that all is well, and I dare not lie from this sacred platform to say that I, and we, must rejoice in the fact that now he is at peace. It would be far from the truth, and I would need the spiritual strength of a rabbi, a minister, and a priest combined to do so. The human flesh and the frailty of human nature seem to be the sad order of the day as far as I am concerned.

It will take a long time for the people in my business who have been wounded by this event to become reconciled that this dynamic bundle of energy with its God-given talent that called itself Al Jolson is at peace. The very humanly emotional heart of the theatrical business does not heal so easily, and the tears that must fall from the eyes of the many who miss him already cannot be halted by the spoken word. No, the word will not take the place of his song.


And not only has the entertainment world lost its king, but we cannot cry, "The King is dead -- long live the King!" For there is no one to hold his scepter. Those of us who tarry behind are but pale imitations, mere princelings. And American Jewry suffers as well and I must psychologically inform you of the great inspiration that Al was to the Jewish people in the last forty years. For in 1910 the Jewish people who emigrated from Europe to come here were a sad lot. Their humor came out of their own troubles. Men of thirty-five seemed to take on the attitude of their fathers and grandfathers, they walked with stooped shoulders. When they sang, they sang with lament in their hearts and their voices, always as if they were pleading for help from above, And the older they got, the more they prayed for the return to Jerusalem. Or yearned for the simple little villages where they spent their childhood. And the actors, even the great ones, came on the stage also playing characters like their fathers. Vaudeville and the variety and the musical-comedy stage and the legitimate theater had Ben Welch and Joe Welch, monologists with beards and shabby clothes telling humorous stories that had a tear behind them. Likewise did this happen in legitimate theater. David Warfield in The Auctioneer and many others in plays bewailing the misfortunes that had happened to the Jew. And then there came on the scene a young man, vibrantly pulsing with life and courage, who marched on the stage, head high with the authority of a Roman emperor, with a gaiety that was militant, uninhibited, and unafraid, and told the world that the Jew in America did not only have to sing in sorrow but could shout happily about Dixie, about the Night Boat to Albany, about coming to California, about a girl in Avalon. And when he cried "Mammy" it was in appreciation, not in lament. Jolson is the happiest portrait that can ever be painted about an American of the Jewish faith. Jolson was synonymous with victory at the race track, at the ball game, at anything that he participated in, he would say, "I had the winner, ha, ha, why didn't you ask me?" This was not in bravado alone: this was the quintessence of optimism. Whatever you're in, whatever game you play, feel like you are the winner.

The history of the world does not say enough about how important the song and the singer have been, from the days of old when a man first sang "Yankee Doodle" on the streets of Boston or the soldier in France who first sang "The Marseillaise." But history must record the name Jolson, who in the twilight of his life sang his heart out in a foreign land, to the wounded and to the valiant. I am proud to have basked in the sunlight of his greatness, to have been part of his time, and to have only a few days ago -- this last Sunday night -- hugged him and said, "Good night, Asa, take care of yourself." And now, my friends, I find my faith in good coming back to me. I feel strengthened in heart and mind -- and I would lay my sackcloth and ashes aside and therefore say to my fellow mourners and the little lady who bears Al's name that I am thankful to God that there was and there is an Al Jolson. And I have faith that he will never die in the hearts of people. No, no. No such blot will ever fall on the fair charter of American memories. Baruch adenoi. Praise the Lord. Good night, Al.



Wednesday, September 23, 2026

ON THIS DAY - SEPTEMBER 23, 1957

69 years ago...


On this day, Buddy Holly and The Crickets reached the very top of the charts with That’ll Be the Day — their first Billboard hit and their only US #1. The song’s title came from a phrase John Wayne used in the 1956 film The Searchers, and Holly’s driving rhythm and vocal style turned it into a rock ’n’ roll anthem.

The record went on to sell over a million copies in America, cementing Holly as one of the most important pioneers of early rock. Though his career was tragically cut short, his impact was undeniable. After That’ll Be the Day, Holly scored more hits with Peggy Sue, Oh, Boy!, Maybe Baby, and It Doesn’t Matter Anymore.

His innovative songwriting, use of double-tracking, and his look — horn-rimmed glasses and all — influenced generations to come, from The Beatles to Bob Dylan to modern rockers...

Sunday, September 20, 2026

HOLLYWOOD URBAN LEGEND: RUSS COLUMBO

URBAN LEGEND: Did friends and family keep the news of crooner's Russ Columbo's death from his own mother until her death?

ANSWER: Yes, that urban legend is true!

Russ Columbo's family kept his death a secret from his mother, Mrs. Columbo, in a "tender deceit" to protect her. They did not inform her that he had died when he was killed in 1934, and the deception continued for ten years until her own death in 1944. The family's decision to hide the news of his death was an act of kindness, intending to spare his mother the grief of his sudden passing.To maintain the elaborate deception, people wrote fake letters from him, suggesting he was on a long tour in Europe. They played records of his old radio shows to make it seem as though his broadcasts were still ongoing. Also they persuaded friends and acquaintances to talk as if Columbo were still alive.

Giulia "Julia" Colombo died on August 30, 1944 never knowing her famous song had died a decade earlier...



Thursday, September 17, 2026

CAROL BURNETT: THE ULTIMATE MISS HARRIGAN

When Annie hit theaters in 1982, audiences were already familiar with Carol Burnett as the queen of sketch comedy, thanks to The Carol Burnett Show. But nothing quite prepared them for her turn as Miss Agatha Hannigan—the gin-soaked, silk‑slipped, delightfully unhinged matron of the Hudson Street Orphanage. Burnett didn’t just play Miss Hannigan; she transformed her into a chaotic, tragicomic force of nature who would ultimately define the film’s long‑lasting appeal.

Most fans don’t realize Burnett wasn’t the first choice for the part. The role of Miss Hannigan was initially offered to Bette Midler, whose powerful voice and theatrical style would have taken the character in an entirely different direction. But fate had other plans, and Burnett stepped in—bringing with her a blend of vaudeville sharpness, emotional nuance, and comedic timing that made the character unforgettable. 

That choice would turn out to be a defining moment for the film. Burnett’s performance became so memorable that many viewers now associate Annie not just with its red‑haired heroine, but with the unstable caretaker who belted out “Little Girls” while drunkenly threatening to hang up on life itself.


Burnett portrayed Miss Hannigan as a woman teetering between slapstick comedy and real emotional despair. That balance wasn’t accidental. She has acknowledged that aspects of Hannigan’s alcoholism echoed experiences from her own upbringing, grounding the character in lived emotional truth even amid exaggerated physical humor. 

Nowhere is that balance more evident than in the musical number “Little Girls.” Burnett staggers, sways, rearranges a painting just so she can make it crooked again—all tiny touches that reveal Hannigan’s unraveling mind. Critics and fans alike still cite the scene as a masterclass in comedic acting, done with just enough darkness to feel real. 

Filming wasn’t as glamorous as the final product suggests. Director John Huston, best known for gritty noir films like The Maltese Falcon, was an unusual choice for a musical—and his dramatic sensibilities clashed with Broadway‑style energy on set. Yet somehow, the mismatch created a vibrant, oddball atmosphere that Burnett thrived in. 

To make matters even more complicated, Burnett underwent chin surgery between filming and reshoots. When she returned to set, her new look posed a continuity nightmare—especially for the “Easy Street” scene, which originally involved over 400 background performers before being scaled down. She joked to Huston, “Two months ago, I didn’t have a chin. Now I do.” The director’s solution? “Just come out looking determined.” And she did, with impeccable comedic confidence. 

Forty years later, there have been multiple adaptions of Annie—TV films, live musicals, and reimaginings. But none have surpassed the charm, chaos, and layered humor of Burnett’s performance.

Whether she was belting out songs with Tim Curry and Bernadette Peters or snarling at her army of exhausted orphans, Burnett gave Miss Hannigan a soul—albeit a twisted, booze‑soaked one. She made the villain weirdly lovable, even when she was at her worst. And that is why her portrayal continues to be the definitive version for generations of fans...



Monday, September 14, 2026

RIP: BOB MACKIE

Bob Mackie, iconic fashion and Costume Designer, has died at the age of 87. Bob Mackie was an internationally renowned costume and fashion designer who has dressed some of the most glamorous entertainment icons in the world. With a career spanning five decades, nine Emmy Award wins, three Academy Award nominations, and an induction into the Television Academy Hall of Fame.

Mackie's Instagram posted the following message:

It is with a heavy heart that we share the news that Mr. Bob Mackie passed away today. He lived his 87 years to the fullest, fulfilling his dream of being a Fashion and Costume Designer, which is all he ever wanted to do. His genius and extraordinary designs will live on forever, continuing to bring beauty into this world.

Bob Mackie's career is nothing short of legendary. Most recently, he received a 2019 Tony Award, Drama Desk Award, and Outer Critics Circle Award for his work on The Cher Show.

A native of Southern California, Bob's career began in 1961, where he was in demand as a sketch artist for many costume designers in film, including Edith Head and Jean Louis. In 1966, the vivacious Mitzi Gaynor decided she was ready for a whole new look and quickly engaged Mackie to design the costumes for her famous Las Vegas Review and her upcoming television specials. For Mackie, this was a marriage made in heaven with dance, glamour, and comedy all in one package.


After seeing Gaynor's Las Vegas show, Carol Burnett and TV producer, Joe Hamilton hired him to design the entire wardrobe for the first Carol Burnett Show, where he remained the show's Costume Designer for it's eleven year run on air. Bob is equally well known for his designs worn by Cher on her television show, as well as her concert tours, winning an Emmy in 1999 for Cher: Live in Concert from Las Vegas and in 2003 for Cher: The Farewell Tour.

His theatrical credits include Lorelei with Carol Channing, On the Town with Bernadette Peters, Platinum with Alexis Smith, The Best Little Whorehouse Goes Public with Dee Hooty, Moon Over Buffalo and Putting It Together, both with Carol Burnett; and Minnelli On Minnelli with Liza Minnelli. He also designed the costumes and scenery for the world premiere of the ballet, Blue Suede Shoes, featuring the music of Elvis Presley, as well as the costumes for the San Francisco Opera's production of Alban Berg's Lulu.


In 1999, the Museum at The Fashion Institute of Technology ("FIT") honored Mackie's enormous contribution to fashion and costume design with the retrospective Unmistakably Mackie, now hailed as one of the most highly attended exhibitions in New York City history. The exhibit included more than 125 examples of Mackie's designs, sketches, photos, and videos spanning his incredible career. In conjunction with the retrospective, the vibrantly illustrated book, Unmistakably Mackie by Frank DeCaro, was also released.

Women who wear Mackie dare to be noticed, and many of the entertainment industries biggest and brightest stars are still clamoring to be dressed by him. The Mackie brand continues to flourish with the QVC Wearable Art Collection and partnerships with Kas Rugs, Premium Bag, Horizon Beauty Group, Glance Eyewear, and The Bradford Exchange. With his choice of vibrant colors, luxurious fabrics, and intricate detail, Bob Mackie's work continues to exude timeless glamour...



Sunday, September 13, 2026

BORN ON THIS DAY: CLAUDETTE COLBERT

Claudette Colbert, born Emilie Claudette Chauchoin on this day in 1903, was one the greatest actresses of the 20th century. The family moved to the United States when she was three. As Claudette grew up, she wanted nothing more than to play to Broadway audiences (in those days, any actress or actor worth their salt went for Broadway, not Hollywood). After her formal education ended, she enrolled in the Art Students League, where she paid for her dramatic training by working in a dress shop. She made her Broadway debut in 1923 in the stage production of "The Wild Wescotts". It was during this event that she adopted the name Claudette Colbert.

When the Great Depression shut down most of the theaters, Claudette decided to make a go of it in films. Her first film was called For the Love of Mike (1927). Unfortunately, it was a box-office disaster. She wasn't real keen on the film industry, but with an extreme scarcity in theatrical roles, she had no choice but to remain. In 1929 she starred as Joyce Roamer in The Lady Lies (1929). The film was a success and later that year she had another hit entitled The Hole in the Wall (1929). In 1930 she starred opposite Fredric March in Manslaughter (1930), which was a remake of the silent version of eight years earlier. A year after that Claudette was again paired in a film with March, Honor Among Lovers (1931). It fared well at the box-office, probably only because it was the kind of film that catered to women who enjoyed magazine fiction romantic stories. In 1932 Claudette played the evil Poppeia in Cecil B. DeMille's last great work, The Sign of the Cross (1932), and once again was cast with March. Later the same year she was paired with Jimmy Durante in The Phantom President (1932). By now Claudette's name symbolized good movies and she, along with March, pulled crowds into the theaters with the acclaimed Tonight Is Ours (1933).


The next year started a little on the slow side with the release of Four Frightened People (1934), where Claudette and her co-stars were at odds with the dreaded bubonic plague on board a ship. However, the next two films were real gems for this young actress. First up, Claudette was charming and radiant in Cecil B. DeMille's spectacular Cleopatra (1934). It wasn't one of DeMille's finest by any means, but it was a financial success and showcased Claudette as never before. However, it was as Ellie Andrews, in the now famous It Happened One Night (1934), that ensured she would be forever immortalized. Paired with Clark Gable, the madcap comedy was a mega-hit all across the country. It also resulted in Claudette being nominated for and winning the Oscar that year for Best Actress. IN 1935 she was nominated again for Private Worlds (1935), where she played Dr. Jane Everest, on the staff at a mental institution. The performance was exquisite. Films such as The Gilded Lily (1935), Drums Along the Mohawk (1939) and No Time for Love (1943) kept fans coming to the theaters and the movie moguls happy. Claudette was a sure drawing card for virtually any film she was in. In 1944 she starred as Anne Hilton in Since You Went Away (1944). Again, although she didn't win, Claudette picked up her third nomination for Best Actress.

By the late 1940s and early 1950s she was not only seen on the screen but the infant medium of television, where she appeared in a number of programs. However, her drawing power was fading somewhat as new stars replaced the older ones. In 1955 she filmed the western Texas Lady (1955) and wasn't seen on the screen again until Parrish (1961). It was her final silver screen performance. Her final appearance before the cameras was in a TV movie, The Two Mrs. Grenvilles (1987). She did, however, remain on the stage where she had returned in 1956, her first love. After a series of strokes, Claudette divided her time between New York and Barbados. On July 30, 1996, Claudette died in Speightstown, Barbados. She was 92...



Friday, September 11, 2026

HISTORY BREAK: A 9/11 MEMORY

Twenty five years ago the world changed for millions of people. There are countless stories of heroes and victims, and as sad as these stories are - hopefully this tragedy will never be forgotten. At two and a half years old, Christine Lee Hanson was the youngest of the eight children who were killed on 9/11, all passengers aboard the aircraft commandeered by terrorists. Christine’s life will be remembered through the display of her beloved Peter Rabbit, which will be installed in the 9/11 Museum’s Memorial Exhibition Thursday, June 11, after closing.

On September 11, 2001, Christine and her parents, Peter and Sue Kim Hanson, left their residence in Groton, Mass. and boarded United Flight 175 at Logan Airport. The family was flying to Los Angeles to visit Sue Kim’s relatives, followed by a trip to Disneyland. The hijacked plane never reached its destination. Two other children died on the same flight when it crashed into the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

Christine was a bright, busy toddler who loved taking trips to the playground and helping her father in the garden. An attentive caretaker of her toys, she favored a stuffed Peter Rabbit character from the classic Beatrix Potter series. It was given to her by her grandmother, Eunice Hanson, in acknowledgement of Christine’s birth in the Chinese Year of the Rabbit. Peter Rabbit replaced Christine’s previously best-loved plaything: a red Teletubby acquired in infancy that “went everywhere with her,” Eunice Hanson recalls.

In 2014, both of these cherished keepsakes were entrusted to the 9/11 Memorial Museum by her grandparents, Eunice and Lee Hanson. Two Winnie the Pooh stickers that Christine placed on Peter Rabbit’s torso are still attached. “She put stickers on everything she liked; I suppose it was her mark of approval,” Eunice Hanson said.

Included in the Hanson’s gift to the Museum was a photograph of Christine celebrating her first birthday, with the word Peace incised on the picture frame. “The Peace frame containing Christine’s picture, taken in a traditional Korean outfit, is most poignant,” said Eunice Hanson. “That one word describes Christine’s parents, who were loving people and believed in kindness. I could ask volumes of questions why this happened to them, given who they were.”



Wednesday, September 9, 2026

MEL BROOKS AND HIS HIGH ANXIETY

On this date in 1977, "High Anxiety" was released. It is really an underrated Mel Brooks film!

Mel Brooks once said of Alfred Hitchcock: "Anyone who has ever rolled a foot of film owes something to this man."

Brooks took great pains to not only spoof Hitchcock films, but also to emulate the look and style of his pictures. In an interview he said, "I watch the kind of film we're making with the [director of photography], so he knows not to be frivolous. He's got to get the real lighting, the real texture. For 'High Anxiety', it was 'What is a Hitchcock film? What does it look like? What does it feel like? How does he light them? How long is a scene? What is the cutting? When does he bring things to a boil?' We just watch everything."

Brooks hired the actual bird handler from Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" (1963) for work on this picture. The bird droppings were actually mayonnaise and chopped spinach. However, Brooks reported to Johnny Carson on "The Tonight Show" that the helicopter spraying the fake bird droppings scared the pigeons so much that he believed half of the bird droppings were real.


One of Brooks' favorite routines was doing a musical impression of Frank Sinatra, and in this film he performs the song "High Anxiety" in an exaggerated version of Sinatra's singing style, right down to dropping the first syllable of the word "anxiety." . Brooks wrote the song and lyrics. Brooks claimed he received singing offers from Las Vegas casinos and clubs following the release of the film.

During a special preview screening, Alfred Hitchcock's only criticism of the film to Brooks was that in the shower scene, when the shower curtain is torn off the rail, they used 13 shower curtain rings, whereas in "Psycho" (1960), they only used 10. After viewing the film, Hitchcock sent Brooks a case containing six magnums of 1961 Château Haut-Brion wine with a note that read, "A small token of my pleasure, have no anxiety about this."


Tuesday, September 8, 2026

A HOLLYWOOD HERO: JACK NICHOLSON


When the planes struck the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001, Jack Nicholson was in Los Angeles, seated alone in his Mulholland Drive home, glued to the television. He didn’t move for hours. By the end of the first day, he’d already canceled a long-planned charity golf tournament, paused talks for a new film with Warner Bros., and phoned his assistant to pull him out of an upcoming public appearance. Those close to him said Nicholson’s reaction was swift, solemn, and deeply personal.

Friends remember that he didn’t eat much during those days. One recalled entering his living room the evening after the attacks and finding him still in the same spot, eyes fixed on the screen. “He hadn’t changed clothes. The ashtray beside him was overflowing. He looked up at me and said, ‘You can’t pretend it’s business as usual, not now,’” the friend said.

Nicholson, typically charismatic and open in interviews, refused to speak publicly about 9/11. Not a single televised statement. No press release. No social commentary. But his actions behind closed doors told a different story. Within 72 hours of the attack, he sent out anonymous donations to several New York-based emergency relief groups. A quiet phone call went out from his lawyer’s office to a Manhattan firehouse, an inquiry about what supplies were needed. He then arranged for protective gear, boots, and medical kits to be shipped to a fire department without identifying himself as the benefactor.


A retired NYPD detective, who later learned of the donation through internal channels, said, “It came from a private source on the West Coast. The only hint was a handwritten note that said, ‘Thank you for being brave when the world went dark.’ No name. But someone on the force recognized the handwriting from a signed photo hanging in a precinct office. It was Jack.”

Nicholson’s silence wasn’t detachment. It was a vow. One of mourning. He canceled plans to attend a high-profile celebrity gala later that week, saying, “This isn’t a week for business. This is a week for mourning.” That quote, relayed by a friend to Vanity Fair, never appeared in official print. It was passed on quietly, like everything else he did during that time.

He even stepped away from the spotlight entirely for several weeks. Producers who tried to reach him were told he wasn’t taking calls. The gate to his estate remained locked, and even his usual crew of poker buddies was told to wait. “He took it hard,” said one longtime friend. “I mean, Jack’s not the kind of guy who cries at movies. But that week… he’d choke up every time they replayed that footage.”



Sunday, September 6, 2026

FORGOTTEN ONES: BRIAN EPSTEIN

Other than Beatles fans, does anyone remember the name of Brian Epstein? He was an English music entrepreneur who discovered and managed the Beatles. He was often referred to as a "fifth" member of the group. Epstein was born into a family of successful retailers in Liverpool, who put him in charge of their music shop. Here he displayed a remarkable gift for talent-spotting, and got a strong intuition about the potential of an unknown four-man group, The Beatles, at a lunchtime concert at Liverpool's Cavern Club in 1961. Although he had no experience of artist management, Epstein put them under contract and insisted that they abandon their scruff-image in favor of a new clean-cut style, with identical suits and haircuts. He then persuaded George Martin of the prestigious EMI group to produce their records. In August 1962, drummer Pete Best was replaced with Ringo Starr, and the group's familiar line-up was established. Within months, the Beatles' fame had swept the world, and Epstein accompanied them to America, where he was besieged by merchandising offers, but had signed away 90 per cent of the rights in advance. This is viewed as his one miscalculation. Some of Epstein's other young discoveries had also prospered at this time under his management.
 
They included Gerry and the Pacemakers, Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas, Tommy Quickly, and Cilla Black, his only female client. As a gay man, Epstein had to observe great discretion in public, since homosexuality was still illegal in the UK, although he tolerated a certain amount of banter about it in private. The stress of managing the world's first supergroup took its toll, and he withdrew into drink and pills. On August 27, 1967, Epstein died at age 32, from an accidental overdose of sedatives. Epstein was found on a single bed, dressed in pyjamas, with various correspondence spread over a second single bed. He is buried at Liverpool Long Lane Jewish Cemetery in Liverpool, England. The Beatles did not attend Epstein's funeral, both to allow his family some privacy and to avoid attracting fans and the media...



Thursday, September 3, 2026

ROBERT LEVITT JR: LIVING IN MERMAN'S SHADOWS

When people think of Ethel Merman, they remember one of Broadway's most powerful voices and one of the most influential musical theater performers of the twentieth century. What is less widely known is the story of her son, Robert Levitt Jr., a man who spent much of his life avoiding the spotlight that defined his famous mother's career. His journey is a fascinating blend of privilege, personal struggle, family tragedy, and ultimately a search for purpose far removed from celebrity. 

Robert Levitt Jr. was born on August 11, 1945, to Ethel Merman and her husband Robert Levitt, a newspaper executive. Growing up in Manhattan, he experienced a life of comfort and wealth that came with having one of the biggest stars in America as a parent. Yet beneath the glamorous surroundings, his childhood was more complicated than many outsiders might have imagined. According to his own recollections, Merman's demanding career often kept her away from home, and he frequently felt emotionally disconnected despite the family's financial success. 

After his parents divorced and his father later died while Robert was still young, family life became increasingly complex. Merman's subsequent marriages brought new parental figures into the household, including airline executive Robert Six. Robert Jr. later spoke openly about witnessing tensions within the family and feeling that the adults around him paid little attention to his emotional development. While he enjoyed privileges that most children never experience, he also described feeling largely left to navigate adolescence on his own. 

His teenage years proved difficult. Given unusual freedom at a young age, he reportedly skipped school, drifted without much direction, and took advantage of the resources available to him as the child of a celebrity. Looking back, he described himself as a young man lacking guidance and structure. Unlike many celebrity scandals that dominate headlines, Robert's struggles were quieter but no less significant. They reflected the challenges that can arise when fame and wealth exist without consistent parenting and personal support. 

Tragedy struck the family in 1967 when Robert's sister, Ethel "Nicole" Levitt, died from an accidental overdose. Her death devastated those closest to her and remained a painful chapter in the family's history for decades. Family members later recalled that Ethel Merman never fully recovered from the loss of her daughter and often spoke about missing her.


Another painful episode came through Robert's marriage to actress Barbara Colby. Colby was a respected stage and television performer whose career was steadily growing in the early 1970s. Although the couple eventually separated, tragedy struck again when Colby was murdered in Los Angeles in 1975. The crime remains unsolved. Public records indicate that Robert and Barbara were no longer together at the time of her death, but the event nevertheless became another sorrowful chapter connected to his life story.

Despite these setbacks, Robert gradually found his own path. Instead of pursuing fame as a performer, he gravitated toward backstage theater work. His early opportunities may have come through family connections, but over time he developed professional relationships and earned the respect of mentors who helped him mature both personally and professionally. Unlike his mother, whose career depended on public recognition, Robert appeared more comfortable working behind the scenes. 

As he grew older, Robert became increasingly involved in charitable and community-focused activities. Reports about his later years describe involvement with environmental causes and nonprofit organizations, including arts-related charities that assist underserved youth. Rather than embracing a celebrity lifestyle, he devoted much of his energy to service and advocacy. Those efforts suggest a man attempting to create meaning through helping others rather than seeking attention for himself. 

One of the most meaningful aspects of his later life was his relationship with an adopted son who had previously experienced homelessness. Robert reportedly took enormous pride in that relationship and viewed it as one of his greatest accomplishments. For many observers, it represents a powerful contrast to the loneliness and lack of guidance he often described in his own childhood

His relationship with Ethel Merman remained complex throughout his life. He acknowledged the extraordinary talent and success that made her a Broadway legend, but he also spoke candidly about the emotional distance he felt growing up. At the same time, he remembered small moments of affection, including a bedtime tradition in which mother and son sang together before she left for evening performances. Those memories suggest that although the relationship was imperfect, genuine love still existed beneath the pressures of fame and demanding careers. 

Today, Robert Levitt Jr. is remembered less for notoriety than for resilience. He endured family loss, difficult personal years, and the burden of growing up in the shadow of an American icon. Yet he also forged his own identity through theater work, charitable efforts, and meaningful relationships. His story serves as a reminder that the children of famous people often experience challenges that are invisible to the public. While Ethel Merman spent her life commanding center stage, her son ultimately chose a quieter path, one defined not by applause but by perseverance, compassion, and the determination to build a life on his own terms...


Tuesday, September 1, 2026

THE LAST DAYS OF GENE KELLY

The decision by Gene Kelly’s widow not to organise a funeral for her late husband when he died in 1996 no doubt surprised many, but she has now revealed the wish came from the Singin’ In The Rain star himself before he passed away.

The legendary actor and dancing star died at the age of 83 following a series of strokes, shortly after he married his third wife Patricia Ward Kelly. His declining health stemmed from strokes he suffered in July 1994 and February 1995, from which he never fully recovered.

Patricia tours the world talking about Gene in which she stands in front of a crowd and reads back, plays and recites some of their memories together – portraying a more personal side to the legendary star. And one subject she touches on is his declining health in his final years.

“I talk about this in the show because a lot of people don’t talk about the end of life and I think it’s really integral. It’s part of it, talking about grief and loss,” she said. “He was in and out ill for much of the time we were together. A lot of it was kept out of the press, we would sneak into hospitals as best we could. He really did face the end of his life with such grace and such dignity. It was really a lesson in how to deal with difficulty, and it was really a bonding time for the two of us.”

The pair first met at the Smithsonian in Washington DC, US, in 1985, when he was the host for a television special about the museum and she was a writer on the project. Despite their 47-year age gap, they enjoyed more than a decade of blissful happiness together, with Patricia helping to care for him before his death.

At the time, she was helping to write down his memories for a book about his life, so has records of almost all of their conversations and movements. She claimed patient confidentiality wasn’t so much of a thing in the ’90s and they’d have nurses selling stories to the press about Gene as he battled illness in his final years. In fact, she claimed some journalists even dressed up as priests to sneak in themselves.

“It was awful. People assume that a celebrity will have the best, but in fact I think it’s very, very hard for a celebrity, very difficult. But in a way it brought us closer, we were fighting the same fight. Of course I was writing down everything, which was a way for me to cope,” she explained.

“As long as I was writing, he was still alive. But then the problem is you realise when you stop writing, what happens then?”


While Patricia said she had grown up herself in a household that spoke openly about death, it wasn’t something she’d touched on initially with Gene. However as he grew older that changed and she expressed pride in how open he became with her.

“It was something that was very familiar when I grew up with my family, so I just felt that I wanted to know exactly what he wanted,” she said. “I assured him that I would do exactly what he wanted me to do.

“I think it was really good for him because, here was a guy from a different generation talking about things that you just generally didn’t talk about. I have to give him a lot of credit, for a man of that age and that stature to really assess and reassess his life and also to consider the end of life as frankly as he did, and lay it out.

“I was very proud of him. And it helped me a lot because I knew, people have such interesting feelings and thoughts about death and the final days, so I just needed to know what he wanted. I stuck to that and I knew, if I took any flack in the public, the press or anything, I would know that I did what he asked me to do. You have to do that for somebody, you have to make that promise.”

In the end, it was Gene’s wish not to have a memorial service or funeral, instead keeping the mourning private for his family. While many will no doubt have been surprised by the decision, Patricia explained it followed a life lived in the limelight – with his final wish for it to happen behind closed doors.

“He was very specific, he wrote that out – I had him write it out and notarise that!” she admitted. “He didn’t want to be buried anywhere, he said, ‘I’m tired of being on a tour bus route. Every time we would leave our house the tour bus would be going by and would follow us. He said, ‘For me it’s dust to dust’, he didn’t need to have a big memorial some place. I really understand that.

“I think some people think they have to go someplace, but for me he’s just always here so I don’t need to go to a particular spot to mourn him. He was very thoughtful.

“I think what helped him was experiencing the death of so many of his friends. He saw what happened to them, so it also helped to guide his choices. We’d sat through a lot of memorial services and visited a lot of gravesites, so he decided what he wanted.”

Before meeting Patricia and settling down, Gene had always insisted he would never marry again following the death of his second wife Jeanne Coyne. The couple had two children together, while Gene already had a daughter with his first wife Betsy Blair, who he divorced in 1957.

However, Patricia admitted it crept up on him and after five years, he eventually popped the question. She recalled: “I think by falling into this relationship through work… we set out to work together and then the other just came upon us both, it wasn’t until five years into being together when I’d lived with him the whole time that he finally got around to it.”



Sunday, August 30, 2026

REFLECTIONS: BUTTERFLY MCQUEEN ON GONE WITH THE WIND


Actress Butterfly McQueen had this to say about her famous role in the 1939 classic: "Now I am happy I did 'Gone with the Wind.' I wasn't when I was 28, but it's part of black history. You have no idea how hard it is for black actors, but things change, things blossom in time."

Originally a dancer, Butterfly McQueen first appeared in film in 1939 as Prissy, Scarlett O'Hara's maid, in the film "Gone with the Wind." Often typecast as a maid, she said: "I didn't mind playing a maid the first time, because I thought that was how you got into the business. But after I did the same thing over and over, I resented it. I didn't mind being funny, but I didn't like being stupid."

While directing the scene where Prissy says, "Oh Miss Scarlett! I don't know nuthin' 'bout birthin' babies," director George Cukor told Vivien Leigh to actually slap McQueen and to make it as realistic as possible, and directed McQueen to scream. After many takes McQueen broke down in tears, complaining that Leigh was hitting her too hard. In a later interview, McQueen said that she "bargained" with the others, stating that if Leigh hit her, she would NOT scream, but if Leigh's hand only passed close to her face with the illusion of hitting her, she would scream as loudly as she could. McQueen also giggled and said that she thought "Prissy should have been slapped often, because she was horrid!"

McQueen appeared in an uncredited role in "Mildred Pierce" (1945) (where she had a good amount of screen time) and played a supporting role in "Duel in the Sun" (1946). By 1947, she had grown tired of the ethnic stereotypes she was required to play and ended her film career. McQueen received a bachelor's degree in political science from New York City College in 1975 (she was 64)...



Wednesday, August 26, 2026

RIP: TIM CURRY

Tim Curry, the English actor and singer best known for The Rocky Horror Picture Show, has died at age 80, according to an initial report from TMZ. Entertainment Weekly has reached out to Curry’s representatives for confirmation.

Per the outlet, Curry died Tuesday night at his Los Angeles home, after enduring “serious health issues for more than a decade.” The LAPD confirmed to  that officers responded to a death investigation for a male in his 80s on Tuesday at 11:20 P.M. TMZ noted that “no foul play” was suspected at the time of his death.

The three-time Tony-nominee and winner of a Daytime Emmy Award, Curry will forever be known for creating the role of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, the “sweet transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania,” in The Rocky Horror Show stage production and follow-up film, The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Curry met the show’s composer, lyricist, and book writer Richard O’Brien when Curry was in the London production of Hair in 1968 and O’Brien was in the touring company in 1968. Though others have played the mad scientist at “The Frankenstein Place” over time — including an untold number of amateur players during Rocky Horror “shadow cast” performances — Curry’s mix of sleazy, slightly-demonic sexuality mixed with an upper crust demeanor immediately made him a legend, specifically in the LGBT community.

“The motto ‘Don’t dream it, be it’ is not necessarily limited to your sexuality,” he said in late 2025. “I think it applies to whatever you dream to be, and that’s a good thing. If it gives people permission to behave in a sexual way that they secretly want to, that’s a good thing, as long as it doesn’t hurt them.”


The success of Rocky Horror led to notable stage productions like Tom Stoppard’s Travesties, Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus, and comedic film roles like John Huston’s adaptation of Annie (1982) and the madcap all-star comedy free-for-all Clue (1985).

Curry was born the son of a British Naval chaplain in 1946. As per his website, his parents met in Malta, were married in Egypt, he was conceived in South Africa, born in England, and raised partially in Hong Kong. He studied drama in school and quickly found work after graduation in the London production of Hair. He didn’t last long in the show, but found work elsewhere on the stage and on television. His official audition for The Rocky Horror Show was singing the early rock ‘n’ roll classic “Tutti Frutti,” wholly appropriate for the retro-kitsch, boogie-woogie vibe of much of the score.

The Rocky Horror Show opened in 1973 in London, then travelled to Los Angeles for a legendary run at the Roxy Theatre in 1974. It moved to the Belasco Theatre on Broadway the following year. The story, which encourages audiences to not “dream it” but to “be it,” follows two sweethearts, Brad and Janet, whose car breaks down near a spooky castle commanded by the pansexual Dr. Frank-N-Furter.


The movie version, released in 1975, drew from the burgeoning glam-rock scene, and predated a great many styles found in the later punk movement. In a 2025 interview with NPR, Curry said he initially thought the doctor character would “ be in a white lab coat,” not fishnets. Curry’s costars included Bruce Bostwick, Susan Sarandon, and Meat Loaf… as well as everyone in the audience.

The movie was not an initial success, but midnight screenings in New York’s Waverly Theatre led to word-of-mouth. As the fandom increased, audiences began shouting back at the screen. Over time, this led to a semi-canonical talk back script of tongue-in-cheek zings. This soon led to props (hurled toast being the most famous) and, eventually, people in costume prancing around the auditorium along with the action on screen. Funnily enough, Curry lived just a block from the Waverly when the film took off, so got to see people dressed like his character walking home late at night. This phenomenon has continued for five decades.

Concerning the movie’s longevity, specifically with young people, Curry said “to them, it’s daring… It’s a kind of rite of passage now, I think. It’s a guaranteed weekend party to which you can go with or without a date and probably find one if you don’t have one. And it’s also, I think, a chance for people to try on a few roles for size, you know, figure out - help them maybe figure out their own sexuality. I mean, I think that’s probably taking it a little deeper than it needs to go, but I think it has had a useful purpose in that way.” He added, “I’ve certainly had some very interesting and moving mail from people who have said, you know, thanks for helping me figure out who I was.”


In the 1980s, Curry was seen on film in Annie and under 10 tons of demonic makeup in Ridley Scott’s high fantasy Legend opposite Tom Cruise and Mia Sara. Next came Clue, an adaptation of the detective board game with a stacked cast including Madeline Khan, Martin Mull, Michael McKean, Eileen Brennan, Lesley Ann Warren, Colleen Camp, Christopher Lloyd. The old school, screwball screenplay relies on Curry running around like a maniac barking dialogue at supersonic speeds for the film’s final scenes.

The late 1980s saw Curry’s first involvement with voiceover for animation. Paddington, Woody Woodpecker, Star Wars, Scooby-Doo, Barbie… Tim Curry has been involved with all of these brands at one time or another. One series, Peter Pan and the Pirates, led to a Daytime Emmy win.

In the early 2000s, he created the role of King Arthur in the Monty Python musical Spamalot on Broadway and on the West End. Curry also released three pop-rock albums from 1978 to 1981.

Curry suffered a stroke in 2012, limiting his mobility, which increased his working in voiceover. He did not give many interviews and worked to keep his private life private, though it is known that he was rather fond of gardening...



RIP: JAYE P. MORGAN

Talented actress, and game show panelist Jaye P. Morgan passed away on August 24, 2026 at age 94. In 1953, Morgan made a recording of "Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries" issued by Derby Records, which made it to #26 on the U.S. Billboard record chart. Soon after, she received an RCA Victor recording contract, and she had five hits in one year, including her biggest hit "That's All I Want from You", which reached #3 on the chart. Her other notable hits included "There's a Dream in My Heart" by Rolande Maxwell Young, "The Longest Walk", and "Pepper Hot Baby".

After spending six years with RCA Victor, Morgan joined MGM Records in 1959. From 1954 to 1955, Morgan was a vocalist on the ABC television series show Stop the Music. In November 1955, the British music magazine, NME, reported that Morgan was the top female vocalist in the U.S. Cash Box poll. Beginning January 11, 1954, she was a featured singer on the Robert Q. Lewis Show on CBS-TV. In 1956, she had her own show, The Jaye P. Morgan Show, and made guest appearances on a number of other variety shows. She was a charter member of the Robert Q. Lewis "gang" on Lewis's weekday program on CBS, and was featured on a special episode of The Jackie Gleason Show in which Lewis's entire company substituted for the vacationing Gleason. In 1958, Morgan appeared on ABC's Pat Boone Chevy Showroom. On October 6, 1960, she guest starred on NBC's The Ford Show, Starring Tennessee Ernie Ford. In 1961, Morgan was cast as Sally Dwight in the episode "Money and the Minister" of the CBS anthology series, General Electric Theater, hosted by Ronald Reagan. In 1962, she played Patty Maxwell in "Patti's Tune" of the CBS military sitcom-drama Hennesey, starring Jackie Cooper. That same year, she was cast as Kitty Flanders in "That's Showbiz" on NBC's The Joey Bishop Show. In 1964, she portrayed the character Ruth Evans in the episode "Sunday Father" of the NBC medical drama The Eleventh Hour.


Although Morgan continued to spend considerable time in the 1960s and 1970s performing in nightclubs, she also continued to make additional appearances on television as well as in films. In 1964, she guest-starred on CBS's My Three Sons as Susan Duvall in the episode "Second Chorus” and in 1966 “A Falling Star", playing the fading singer Claudia Farrell. Later, in 1973, Morgan played herself in the episode "The Songwriter" of the sitcom The Odd Couple. That year she also appeared as Magda Valentine in the film The All-American Boy. She performed the theme song, "Coming into My Own," of the short-lived NBC situation comedy Fay, starring Lee Grant, which aired from 1975 to 1976. In 1978, Morgan guest-starred on The Muppet Show and sang "That Old Black Magic" as a duet with Dr. Teeth. 

Morgan made numerous appearances on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson during this period, and in the 1980s and into the early 1990s she performed again on the big screen, working in supportive roles in films such as Loose Shoes (1980), Night Patrol (1984), and Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992). Morgan largely retired in 1992...



Tuesday, August 25, 2026

RIP: DOLLY PARTON

Dolly Parton, who rose from a loving if impoverished upbringing in the mountains of East Tennessee to become the “Queen of Country” music, a Hollywood star and a beloved American icon, has died, her family announced on Tuesday. Parton was 80.

Parton’s nephew, Brian Seaver, announced the news in a video posted on her Instagram. He did not provide details about her death.

“My name is Brian Seaver, son of Cassie Parton, and I’m representing the Parton and Owens family today announcing the passing of my aunt, Dolly Rebecca Parton Dean, Sister, Sis and Granny to one generation and Gigi to the next,” Seaver said in a video.

“This video announcement is something Dolly asked of me years ago, before I fully absorbed it as a future reality. As her head of security for more than two decades, a role my father Larry held before me, I have imagined the heaviness of this moment but haven’t truly felt it til now,” he added.

Seaver added that Dolly “lived in the light and is in the arms of Jesus, surely met by Carl, her parents, and countless others.”


Her death comes after Parton suddenly announced in May 2026 that she was canceling a Las Vegas show and said she'd been undergoing treatment for kidney stones for several years.

"Lord, they dig more stones out of me a year than the rock quarry in Rockwood, Tennessee," Parton said in a statement. "But seriously, my immune system and my digestive system got all out of whack over the past couple three years, and they’re working real hard on rebuilding and strengthening those and hopefully I’ll be up to snuff again soon."

During her more than 60-year career, Parton sold more than 100 million records and won 11 Grammy Awards, making her one of the bestselling musical performers of all time.

Parton also became a star on the silver screen, gaining a whole new audience and critical acclaim when she brought her Southern charm to movies like “9 to 5” (she wrote and sang the theme song), “Steel Magnolias” and "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas."

Bedecked in blonde bouffant hairdos and never without her makeup, Parton also became one of the nation’s best known brands who parried questions about her hourglass figure and augmented breasts with her signature self-deprecating wit.

“It costs a lot of money to look this cheap,” Parton once said.Dolly Parton in 1970. Michael Ochs

Parton was also a shrewd businesswoman who amassed an estimated $650 million fortune and maintained creative control in the cutthroat and male-dominated music industry. She presided over an entertainment empire that included the Dollywood theme park. And she was a devoted philanthropist who launched the Dollywood Foundation to provide poverty relief and fund educational programs in her native East Tennessee.

Through it all, Parton leaned on the love of her life, her husband Carl Thomas Dean, who died in March 2025 at age 82 and who, from the moment they married in 1966, happily ceded the spotlight to his world-famous wife.


“Words can’t do justice to the love we shared for over 60 years,” Parton said in July 2025.Dolly Parton in a rare photo with her husband, Carl Thomas Dean. dollyparton.com

Born January 19, 1946, in a one-room cabin on the banks of the Little Pigeon River near the town of Sevierville, Parton was the fourth of 12 children. Her father, Robert Lee Parton, could not read or write and often supplemented the family's meager income from their farm by working constructions jobs. Her mother, Avie Lee Parton, ran the household and was fond of singing traditional Appalachian ballads. The future superstar said it was her mother who instilled in her a love for music.

And it was at church that Parton first started performing. By age 13, Parton was singing on local radio and television shows and made her debut at the Grand Ole Opry, where she met Johnny Cash.

“Dolly Parton has one of the most distinctive voices in American pop music,” Katherine Dacey, a professor at the Berklee College of Music, told NBC News before Parton’s death was announced. “Her high soprano voice gets its distinctive character from her fast vibrato and vocal twang.”Dolly Parton performs in 1976.


The day after she graduated from Sevier County High School in 1964, Parton headed to Nashville where she first made her mark writing songs for other performers, some of them with her uncle Bill Owens.

In songs like “Tennessee Homesick Blues” and “Coat of Many Colors,” Parton drew inspiration from her hardscrabble childhood.

Three years after leaving school, Parton released her first record, “Hello, I'm Dolly” and caught the attention of country star Porter Wagoner and became a regular on his shows.

Then, in 1974, Parton broke out on her own when she topped the country charts for the first time with a song she wrote and performed called “Jolene.” She later revealed it was inspired by a bank teller who flirted with her husband when they were newlyweds.

Her next four singles were also country chart toppers and one of them, “I Will Always Love You,” later became a huge hit for Whitney Houston in 1992.

In 1977, Parton released her first self-produced album “New Harvest...First Harvest” and became the first female country artist to have an album sell over a million copies.

Parton also won her first Grammy with a single from that record called “Here You Come Again.”Parton performing in 1995. Hollywood beckoned and 1980 Parton made her film debut in “9 to 5” which earned her two Golden Globe nominations for her acting and Oscar nomination for the title song, which many consider a feminist anthem.


Parton, who earned a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1984, made several more movies and performed around the world, but she always returned to the music that first made her famous — and to the hollers of East Tennessee where she was born and where she and her husband made their home.

“Never ignore your roots — your home or your hair,” she once said.

In 1986, Parton opened the Dollywood theme park in the Great Smokey Mountains near her hometown. The 165 acres includes rollercoasters, a bald eagle sanctuary and music and crafts that pay tribute to the region's Appalachian heritage.Parton at Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, Tenn., in 1988.Ron Davis / Getty 

Parton and her husband never had children of their own. And in public statements, Parton said she “believed that God didn’t mean for me to have kids.” Dolly is the godmother of Miley Cyrus.

Parton's philanthropic legacy also included the creation of the Imagination Library, which mails free books to children around the world. In the three decades since it was founded, the organization has mailed more than 300 million books to kids around the U.S., as well as Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland...