Re-Post


Worthwhile re-post from Jackcarson

I don't really have a problem with the end. The girls were sophisticated teenyboppers, to wax paradoxical, to begin with. Their turning into teenage variations of such is fairly believable. (Granted, it's all a little too neat a wrap up, complete with that reassuring happy music). But who's to say the girls don't drop this routine a few years down the road anyway and become bohemian hipsters ? Sounds like a lot of the girls I grew up with back then.

Anyway, hats off to you, Ms. Walker. It's very telling of your fantastic performance that even the harshest film critic around, John Simon, singled you out as the best thing about the movie back then.

The stars (no pun intended) were wonderfully aligned when you and Ms. Spaeth were finally chosen over a number of name actresses for the roles. And nothing against the terrific Hayley Mills and Patty Duke, but they too had rather upsy-downsy careers following their early successes. You never had to live down a Valley Of The Dolls for the rest of your life, or like Ms. Mills, succumb to typecasting and eventually eke out a career appearing in inferior reprises of The Parent Trap. And there's always the great Mary Badham, who after To Kill A Mockingbird and This Property Is Condemned appeared in one of the most outrageously bad William Castle flicks, Let's Kill Uncle; was dubbed over in The Twilight Zone; and then virtually disappeared until recently.

BTW, I have a copy of Seven Came Back, in which you played a blind pregnant woman. You certainly did not spend much time playing bland ingenues like many of your other peers ! Kudos kudos kudos ! And I love the picture of you in the Academy Directory of Players of the time - you look beautiful with the long blonde hair and the ethereal expression !

I was curious if you ever caught the very short-lived Broadway musical version, Henry Sweet Henry, and if so, your opinion of it.

reply

Some of us were only set up to play one role. As J. D. Sallinger said success can be a terrible thing. My Aunt is very upset with me for not doing my art. The guy who bought the house for me is sad that I'm not writing. I want to rid the world of so much wanton abuse and can't figure out where to begin, at least today. Sooo much craziness. And yeah those girls could have gone on to do lots of cool stuff. Don't rebels like boys, too?

The blind movie was called 7 In Darkness. I did it because my young go-getter agent told me Leslie Ann Warren agreed to do it, he gave the same line to her we found out while filming. Don't have time to tell all but there's a bunch of funny stuff connected with that little project.

And yes, I saw Henry Sweet Henry. Mr. Hill wanted me to audition for it just so others would know what he was looking for. I met the girl they hired for Val, she was alot more professional than I, a trained singer. Went on to do her own tv show...forget the name, the one with John Mama and the Papas Phillips daughter in it, sorry, it's a bad day for names for me today.

reply

I met the girl they hired for Val, she was alot more professional than I, a trained singer. Went on to do her own tv show...forget the name, the one with John Mama and the Papas Phillips daughter in it, sorry, it's a bad day for names for me today.

The girl who played Val in Henry Sweet Henry was Robin Wilson. I have been unable to find any other credits for her anywhere on stage, TV or film. William Goldman wrote in his book The Season that she was hired partly because of her big Streisand-like voice but this asset turned into a liability when it made her seem older than Val is supposed to be. By the time the show opened on October 12, 1967, her big voice had been "toned down" and what remained was apparently not very interesting. Her understudy, Rebecca Urich (aka Rebecca York), was making her Broadway debut, and later appeared in three more Broadway shows, most recently as a replacement during the original Broadway run of A Chorus Line. (The show's Marian Gilbert, Neva Small, went on to a more substantial career, including playing Chava in the film of Fiddler on the Roof. Her understudy, Pia Zadora, went on to do some interesting things too!)

Elizabeth, I think the TV show that you're referring to is One Day at a Time, which ran from 1974 to 1984. Bonnie Franklin would have been 23 when Henry Sweet Henry opened on Broadway, but I can find no record of her ever being in it during its brief New York run. Her only Broadway credit to date is Applause (1970) (though she's done some off-Broadway).

I know that Henry Sweet Henry received an off-Broadway revival in the early 1970s at the Mercer Arts Center on West 3rd Street, which contained six theatres, two acting workshops and a rock club. Both Henry Sweet Henry and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest were running there when the building collapsed on August 4, 1973. Perhaps Bonnie Franklin was in that production. If so, luckily she survived.

Trivia: both Bonnie Franklin and Pia Zadora were replacements for the role of Ruby (originated by Bernadette Peters) in Dames at Sea during its 1969-70 run at the Theatre de Lys (aka Lucille Lortel Theater).

My favorite anecdote about Henry Sweet Henry is Tony Randall's response when he was asked to do the show: "I'd love to do it... if I were a teenage girl!"

My best wishes to you Elizabeth!


Answer me. I know you have a civil tongue in your head because I sewed it there myself.

reply

Hm, I got it wrong. Too bad Robin didn't do so much after that, she was fine, I thought.

reply

Sounds like you're having one of those days. Hang in there.

reply

As many writers have said, the world has a way of beating us up pretty bad; it is a hard place a lot of the time, especially when you try to live in it! That bad part of the world will never go away, and maybe it shouldn't? But remember, there is so much beauty out there too. Beauty grows, and life recovers, in the most neglected places—but it takes time.

I would also encourage Elizabeth to refelct on her life through writing. She has a strong voice. Something every day, pieces from a certain time or place, as if telling it to someone listening; or responding to a question about memories. That little piece she wrote about seeing the attractive man in the park, and how a family in Virginia lived, and how those things stuck with her, was poignant and worthwhile, small but telling moments from a life. But yes, writing can be the hardest thing in the world to do. It can take a lot out of you; but heal & strengthen you too with a little lucky providence.

reply

What a beautiful post, upland14. You have captured thoughts that are both important and appropriate. Speaking as the "guy who bought the house" for her, I can truthfully say that Elizabeth is a very special talent. Sometimes that is a great burden to bear, especially when one is caught up in a frenetic, fast-moving world (the 60s) and is valued more for youthful allure than for talent and spirituality and compassion.

I am optimistic that Elizabeth's new home will allow her to bring all of her talents and interests into focus and fruition. While I think she is still troubled by her perceptions of the motives behind the extraordinary events of the past year, I am sure that as time passes, it will become clear that there are really no limits or designs on her except for those that she imposes upon herself--as is so often the case for each of us.

Once that happens, I know that her creativity will flourish, and that we will all be thrilled by the emergence of many wonderful and unique works--her paintings and illustrations, her writings in all their forms--stories, poetry, essays, screenplays, and autobiography. Elizabeth has a unique and idiosyncratic way with words; it is the rarest of gifts, and sometimes these are quite difficult to live with, looming like shifting shadows in candlelight. At her best, though, Elizabeth and her words are truly incandescent.

Don Malcolm

reply

Thanks Don. It is nice you mentioned those words spirituality and compassion. In the end I guess if we can be in touch with those things that is what matters, not fame and fortune so much. Elizabeth Walker has already left a permanent mark on the world. But I have to admit, I am selfish, like everyone else who posts here I'd just love to hear more of her story's from life!

I kind of identify. I finally published my first book a few years back, after 25 years of putting it off. It had some critical success, and now everyone's waiting for the next one (hey, old man?). Well, it hasn't come ... and it may never? Turns out I have a very tough time dealing with the pressure of even minor notoriety...and on other days just getting through the day can be a success. Creating, from the systematic pressure to offer something commercial, or to live up to other's expectations and hopes...people who can do that are pros, and I respect them alot. But for some, that can only keep us motivated for so long. Other things have to be there too. But hey, sometimes it happens ... and when it happens doesnt really matter maybe.

In my experience, I have learned that through all those hard days the world dishes out, and the ones we put upon ourselves, there are always some good days left to come along (kind of a trust thing, as sometimes that is really hard to believe.) If Elizabeth reads these posts, the only simple advice I can offer would be to work hard at what you love, with some joy, on those days that you can (now if I could only follow my own advice :)... And some day if us fans are lucky, we will get to see your work and words. But if not, hey, we will still love ya.

reply

Cut it out, Don.

reply