My Week in Beauty

SUNDAY

I’ve been thinking a lot – okay, obsessing – about one of my favourite actresses this week because one of her best films is going to be screened at the Edinburgh Film Festival next weekend. And that gave me the opportunity to write about her in Sunday’s Herald, and on my film blog, and to be invited to speak about her on the radio next week.

Lombard, who is now – ridiculously – best remembered as Clark Gable’s great love, was a magnificent comedienne. She specialised in playing superficially dizzy young women trapped in situations where their intelligence didn’t really get a chance to blossom. I’m thinking, of course, of Irene Bullock in My Man Godfrey (the glorious 1936 screwball comedy which is playing at Edinburgh’s Filmhouse on June 30), of overnight celebrity Hazel Flagg in Nothing Sacred (1937) and of Shakespearian actress Maria Tura in To Be Or Not To Be (1942) – three of Lombard’s best films.

I think I’m drawn to Lombard not just because I love her performances, her elegance, her willingness to abandon the elegance in the name of comedy (see the “Godfrey loves me” sequence in MMG), her wit and her intelligence – but also because in real life she was, by all accounts, very much “one of the boys” and as someone who spends her life in the jazz world, I know all about that.

In my opinion, Lombard’s looks improved with age. She died in a plane crash in 1942, aged just 34 and was at her most radiant – as her last films Mr and Mrs Smith (1941) and To Be Or Not To Be show. She had matured from looking like just another bottle-blonde Hollywood ingenue into a leading lady with a commanding presence and magnetic sexuality. In her later films she looks quite different to her early screen appearances: strong jawline, chiselled cheekbones, prominent forehead (weirdly, something I was complimented on – on Sunday!). And she was voluptuous to boot.

Here’s her 1932 response to the question of what her beauty routine was (courtesy of www.carolelombard.org, a fabulous tribute blog I stumbled across). “Although I think make-up is very essential to my beauty, my hint is not to overdo it. In daytime I use a powder of equal parts beige and flesh tints; a tea rose shade of rouge an a very pale rose lipstick. I never use mascara or eye pencil when going to shop or out walking.

“For evening, a powder four shades darker is my favourite. I use no cheek rouge, but my lipstick is heavier. I use a carmen red. At night I also use violet eyelid shadow and dark blue mascara, lengthening my eyebrows slightly with a blue pencil.”

Do you think she meant “brow pencil”?!

MONDAY

What would actually have been even more useful to know on Monday morning was if Carole Lombard had a good hangover cure (apart from one of her man Godfrey’s “pixie remover”/ hangover blasters) – as I was paying the price for some post-reviewing debauchery after covering the Leith Jazz Festival over the weekend. Actually, it was more lack of sleep than alcohol which caused my eyes to be slits and my skin to look less than its best – so I wasn’t a very good advert for beauty journalism when I turned up for my meeting at the new Philosophy counter in Debenhams, Glasgow – one of many new Philosophy counters recently opened nationwide. More on Philosophy anon.

THURSDAY

Jurlique Rosewater Balancing Mist (£16.50), a classic spray-on toner which refreshes and hydrates the skin, proved its worth on Thursday when my skin was still feeling a little dried out and sensitive.

Even more of a boost was my first experience of an Origins Mega Bright Mini-Facial at John Lewis (0141 353 6677) in Glasgow. This is a half-hour treatment comprises a thorough cleanse and exfoliation using Origins Modern Friction Nature’s gentle dermabrasion, followed by a mask and a facial massage using a sculpted piece of jade and Dr Andrew Weil for Origins Mega-Bright Skin Tone Correcting Serum. I was slightly alarmed by the pressure applied round the eyes with the jade – I was worried that I might have two bruised-looking eyes afterwards – but Cheryl, my therapist, reassured me by showing me how the jade was shaped so that it presses on only the correct areas.

The effect was wonderfully relaxing, and the results on my skin were impressive: I had a very definite glow for quite a few days and will definitely be back for more when Origins has the beauty room next – between June 30 and July 8, and then from July 30 until August 14. The facial is free and is available from selected Origins counters nationwide.

Hold The Front Page!

The Glasgow Film Theatre is currently showing a mini-season of films from a genre which is routinely overlooked but is as quintessentially American as the gangster movie and the western.

The season, Heroes and Villains, celebrates journalism on the silver screen and belongs to a bigger genre – the newspaper movie, which had its heyday in the 1930s.

The newspaper building (or at least newspaper buildings until ten years ago, when journalists became  bogged down by bureaucracy and cost-cutting) is an obvious setting for a Hollywood movie. All human life can be found there, and the pace – leisurely and laidback at the beginning of the day; frantic and frenetic as deadlines approach – is quite unlike that of any other workplace.

Many of the great newspaper movies have been based on true stories: after all, this was – like the gangster movie – a genre born out of topicality. The 1933 James Cagney comedy Picture Snatcher, for example, was based on the scandal surrounding the New York Daily News’s secretly snatched photograph of murderess Ruth Snyder in the electric chair. Cagney – like Jude Law in The Road to Perdition – played a snapper who often beat the cops to grisly crime scenes.

Some of the most memorable characters in newspaper movies were inspired by real people, proof that newspaper people are not only excellent sniffers-out of stories but also great material in themselves. It took only a handful of tyrannical editors to furnish Hollywood with enough material to create the stereotypical kick-ass editor character we see in such classic newspaper movies as Nothing Sacred (1937) and His Girl Friday (1940).

Both these films were comedies but the newspaper movie can also be a hard-hitting drama (in the case of Five Star Final), a fantasy (Superman) or a crime drama.

Indeed, the newspaper movie has most often functioned as a variation on the traditional crime movie, with the reporter playing the detective role. The Humphrey Bogart film Deadline USA (1952) and Ron Howard’s all-star comedy-drama The Paper (1994) focused on newspaper investigations into mob murders.  And, of course, All the President’s Men (1976) concerned the Washington Post’s investigation into what proved to be the scoop of the century – the Watergate scandal.

But what sets these films apart from crime dramas is that they are as much about the putting together of a newspaper and the people involved in that process as they are about the investigation.

The newspaper genre is one of the few which showed women working as men’s equals from day one:  in 1931, the year in which the newspaper genre broke through, Fay Wray starred as a hotshot reporter battling corruption in The Finger Points, and Loretta Young (above) played Gallagher, just “one of the boys” in the newsroom and the press bar, in Platinum Blonde.

The most popular film version of the hit Broadway play The Front Page was the second one, His Girl Friday, in which ace reporter Hildy Johnson was rewritten as a woman, and played – with great panache – by Rosalind Russell. And Katharine Hepburn portrayed a leading political columnist in Woman of the Year in 1942.

Roles like these were among the best that Hollywood had to offer since the characters were – by necessity, since they were operating in a male-dominated environment – feisty and street-smart.

THE newspaper genre came about as a result of coincidence. The 1920s had been a boom time for the newspaper and magazine industry in America. A new style of tabloid emerged in the 1920s: the sensationalistic rag which shied away from no topic and which would publish photos of murder victims, suicides, illicit lovers caught offguard – anything likely to titillate the readership. There was no level to which these papers wouldn’t stoop for a scoop. And the truth was rarely newsworthy.

Against this backdrop came the sound era in Hollywood, and studios suddenly found themselves in need of snappy, realistic dialogue.  The idealised characters and situations favoured by many of the filmmakers of the silent era were now passe, and audiences,  reeling from the effects of the Depression, demanded films which tackled the problems facing society.

Prohibition and gangsters quickly became favoured topics, and movies set in newspapers were seen as the perfect vehicles for debates about corruption, crime and poverty. The role of newspapers themselves could be dealt with in this new genre, and there was plenty of comic material to be found in the crazy stunts pulled off by some of the tabloids in the bid to increase circulation.

Five Star Final and The Front Page were two of the first newspaper movies. Both were made in 1931, both had their roots in reality, and both had been successful Broadway plays. Five Star Final was written by Louis Weitzenkorn, former editor of one of New York’s most salacious rags, The Evening Graphic (fondly known as the Pornographic). Randall, the editor, played by Edward G Robinson, was based on another Evening Graphic editor, Emile Gauvrau, who, like Lady Macbeth, was always washing his hands as if to rid himself of guilt for some of his dirtier deeds.

Five Star Final spared no detail about the way in which the sleazier papers operated. The opening shot is of an old news vendor being beaten up by thugs employed to ensure that the Evening Gazette is given the prime position on the news-stands.

Written by former newspapermen BenHecht and Charles MacArthur, The Front Page (remade as His Girl Friday, then again in 1974 as The Front Page, and then re-worked as Broadcast News in 1988) was a black comedy about a newspaper finding an escaped death-row convict, and trying to keep him hidden to protect its scoop. The editor, Walter Burns (most famously played by Cary Grant in His Girl Friday), was based on Walter Howie, the Chicago editor whom Ben Hecht claimed he would not work, “being incapable of such treachery as he proposed”.

Clearly, there was no scheme too odious for Walter and Hildy who, at one point reminisces: “Remember the time we stole old Aggie Haggerty’s stomach off the coroner’s table? We proved she’d been poisoned, didn’t we?”

Hecht also satirised the tabloids’ desperate publicity stunts in his 1937 comedy Nothing Sacred (above)  in which reporter Frederic March and his newspaper shamelessly exploit an apparently dying girl (Carole Lombard), little realising that she is in fact exploiting them.

Exploitation was also the theme of Billy Wilder’s blackly cynical Ace in the Hole (1951)  in which reporter Kirk Douglas artificially prolongs a human interest story so he can get as much mileage out of it as possible.

In the 1930s, when it was fashionable to look down on hacks, the newspaper genre was at the peak of its popularity. When the papers tidied up their act, and journalists – especially war correspondents – were looked on in a more respectful manner, the genre began to die. And by the 1980s, the setting for journalism-themed movies had switched to the TV newsroom. But I’ll bet there are still would-be hot-shot reporters and girl fridays out there who seek the thrills of the 1930s-style newspaper offices..