Trivia: Canadian actress/singer Deanna Durbin learned at a very early age that she was blessed with a strong and surprisingly mature set of vocal chords. After studying with coach Andres de Segurola, Durbin set her sights on an operatic career, but was sidetracked into films with a 1936 MGM short subject, Every Sunday. This one-reeler was designed as an audition for both Durbin and her equally youthful co-star Judy Garland; MGM decided to go with Durbin and drop Garland, but by a front-office fluke the opposite happened and it was Durbin who found herself on the outside looking in. But MGM's loss was Universal's gain. That studio, threatened with receivership due to severe losses, decided to gamble on her potential. Under the guiding influence of Universal executive Joseph Pasternak, Durbin was cast in a series of expensive, carefully crafted musicals, beginning in 1936 with Three Smart Girls. This and subsequent films--notably One Hundred Men and a Girl (1937) -- craftily exploited Durbin's remarkable operatic voice, but at the same time cast her as a "regular kid" who was refreshingly free of diva-like behavior. The strategy worked, and Durbin almost single-handedly saved Universal from oblivion; she was awarded a 1938 special Oscar "for bringing to the screen the spirit and personification of youth," and when she received her first screen kiss (from Robert Stack) in First Love (1939), the event knocked the European crisis off the front pages. Durbin remained popular throughout the first years of the 1940s, but when the box-office receipts began to flag, Universal attempted to alter Durbin's screen image with such heavy dramas as The Amazing Mrs. Holliday (1942) and Christmas Holiday (1944); unfortunately, these films failed to make the turnstiles click. In 1945, Durbin had her best "grown up" role in the murder mystery Lady on a Train (1945), which allowed her to dress a bit more glamorously than in previous appearances. By this time, however, Durbin was tired of filmmaking, and began exhibiting a conspicuous lack of interest in performing. After For the Love of Mary (1948), Durbin retired, escaping to France with her third husband, Lady on a Train director Charles David. She so thoroughly disappeared from public view that rumors persisted she had died. Actually, as one writer has pointed out, the "Deanna Durbin" that fans had known and loved had died, to be replaced by a fabulously wealthy matron who had absolutely no interest in the past. Though she lived in comfortable anonymity for her last five decades, Durbin retained her fervent fan following and gained a whole new following thanks to exposure of the vintage Durbin films on cable TV and video. She died in 2013 at the age of 91.

Trivia: The son of a wealthy California businessman, Robert Stack spent his teen years giving skeet shooting lessons to such Hollywood celebrities as Carole Lombard and Clark Gable; it was only natural, then, that he should gravitate to films himself after attending the University of Southern California. At age 20, he made his screen debut in Deanna Durbin's First Love (1939) in which he gave his teenaged co-star her very first screen kiss. Two years later he appeared opposite his former "pupil" Carole Lombard in the Ernst Lubitsch classic To Be or Not to Be (1942). After serving with the navy in WWII he resumed his film career, avoiding typecasting with such dramatically demanding film assignments as The Bullfighter and the Lady (1951), The Tarnished Angels (1957), and John Paul Jones (1959). He earned an Academy Award nomination for his performance as a self-destructive alcoholic in Written on the Wind (1956). In 1959 he gained a whole new flock of fans when he was cast as humorless federal agent Elliot Ness in TV's The Untouchables, which ran for four seasons and won him an Emmy award. He continued playing taciturn leading roles in such TV series as Name of the Game (1969-1971), Most Wanted (1976-1977), and Strike Force (1981), and from 1987 to 2002 was the no-nonsense host of the TV anthology Unsolved Mysteries. Not nearly as stoic and serious in real life, Stack was willing to spoof his established screen image in Steven Spielberg's 1941 (1979) and Zucker-Abraham-Zucker's Airplane! (1980). The warmer side of Robert Stack could be glimpsed in the TV informational series It's a Great Life (1985), which he hosted with his wife Rosemarie, and in his 1980 autobiography, Straight Shooting. Though film appearances grew increasingly sporatic through the 1990s, Stack remained a familiar figure to television viewers thanks to syndicated reruns of Unsolved Mysteries well into the new millennium. Memorable film roles in 1990s included lending his voice to Beavis and Butthead Do America (1996) and appearing as himself in the 1999 comedy drama Mumford. In October of 2002 Stack underwent successful radiation treatment for prostate cancer. On May 14, 2003, Robert Stack's wife Rosemarie found the actor dead in their Los Angeles home. He was 84.

Trivia: The daughter of a stage actress, Helen Parrish began appearing in silent films as a child. In the early '30s, she was briefly a member of Hal Roach's Our Gang. Parrish went on to inspire hisses as Deanna Durbin's spiteful nemesis in such films as Three Smart Girls Grow Up (1939) and First Love (1939). She began playing adult roles at Universal and RKO in 1940 before her career went into a slow decline at Monogram. For many years the wife of People Are Funny and You Bet Your Life producer John Guedel, Helen Parrish died of cancer at the age of 34. Her older brother was juvenile star-turned-editor-turned-director Robert Parrish.

Trivia: It's a source of amazement to those filmgoers born after 1915 -- which is to say, most of us in the early 21st century -- that rotund, frog-voiced, barrel-shaped Eugene Pallette started out in movies as a rough-and-tumble stuntman and graduated to romantic leading man, all in his first five years in pictures. Indeed, Pallette led enough differing career phases and pursued enough activities outside of performing to have made himself a good subject for an adventure story or a screen bio, à la Diamond Jim Brady, except that nobody would have believed it. He was born into an acting family in Winfield, KS, in the summer of 1889; his parents were performing together in a stage production of East Lynne when he came into the world. He grew up on the road, moving from town to town and never really putting down roots until he entered a military academy to complete high school -- which he apparently never quite managed to do. By his teens, Pallette, who was slender and athletic, was working as a jockey and had a winning record, too. Before long, he was part of a stage act involving riding, in a three-horse routine that proved extremely popular. He began acting on the stage as well, and was scraping out a living in the Midwest and West Coast, hoping to make it to New York. At one point, he was allowing a company manager in whose troupe he was working to pocket a major part of his earnings in anticipation of using the sum to finance a trip to New York, only to see the man abscond with the cash and leave him stranded. Pallette turned to movies when he arrived in Los Angeles looking for stage work and found that there was nothing for him. He headed to a nearby studio, where he was told they were looking for riders and took a job as a stuntman for $1.50 a day. He quickly realized that there was a need -- and much more money offered -- for leading men, and he was able to put himself forward in that role. In a matter of a few days, Pallette had managed to make the jump from bit player to lead, and by 1914, he was working opposite the likes of Dorothy Gish. Such was his range that he was just as capable of playing convincingly menacing villains as romantic leads and dashing heroes. He was in D.W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation in a small role as a wounded soldier. That same year, he played starring roles in three movies by director Tod Browning -- The Spell of the Poppy, The Story of a Story, and The Highbinders -- as, respectively, a drug-addicted pianist, a writer struggling with his conscience, and an abusive Chinese husband of a white woman. In Griffith's Intolerance, he had a much bigger heroic part in that movie's French sequences, while in Going Straight, also made in 1916, he gave a memorable performance as a sadistic villain. Pallette's career was interrupted by the American entry into the First World War, for which he joined the flying corps and served stateside. When he returned to acting in 1919, he discovered that he had to restart his career virtually from square one -- a new generation of leading men had come along during his two years away. He'd also begun putting on weight while in uniform and, with his now bland-seeming features, found that only supporting parts were open to him -- and that's what he got, including an important role in Douglas Fairbanks' 1921 adaptation of The Three Musketeers. For a time, he even gave up acting, pulling his available funds together and heading to the oil fields of Texas, where he made what was then a substantial fortune -- 140,000 dollars in less than a year -- only to see it disappear in a single bad investment. Pallette spent an extended period in seclusion, hospitalized with what would now be diagnosed as severe depression, and then turned back to acting. He reestablished himself during the late silent era in character roles, built on his newly rotund physique and a persona that was just as good at being comical as menacing. Pallette signed with Hal Roach Studios in 1927, where work as a comedy foil was plentiful, and his notable two-reel appearances included the role of the insurance man in the Laurel and Hardy classic The Battle of the Century that same year. It was with the advent of the talkies, however, that he truly came into his own; his croaky but distinctive, frog-like voice -- acquired from time spent as a streetcar conductor calling off stops to his passengers -- completed a picture that made him one of the movies' most memorable, beloved, and highly paid character actors and even a character lead at times. Paramount kept Pallette especially busy, and among his more notable movies were The Virginian, playing "Honey" Wiggin, and The Canary Murder Case and The Greene Murder Case in the studio's Philo Vance series, in which he portrayed Det. Sgt. Heath. He became especially good at portraying excitable wealthy men and belligerent officials. Pallette was a veritable fixture in Hollywood for the next decade and a half, playing prominent roles in every kind of movie from sophisticated screwball comedies such as My Man Godfrey (1936) to the relatively low-brow (but equally funny) Abbott & Costello vehicle It Ain't Hay, with digressions into Preston Sturges' unique brand of comedy (The Lady Eve), fantasy (The Ghost Goes West), musicals (The Gang's All Here, in which he also got to sing as part of the finale), and swashbucklers (The Adventures of Robin Hood). The latter, in which he portrayed Friar Tuck to Errol Flynn's Robin Hood, is probably the movie for which he is best remembered. He was earning more than 2,500 dollars a week and indulged himself freely in his main offscreen hobby: gourmet cooking. He was unique among Hollywood's acting community for having free round-the-clock access to the kitchen of The Ambassador Hotel. Not surprisingly, Pallette's girth increased dramatically between the late '20s and the mid-'40s -- his weight rising to well over 300 pounds -- but it all meant more work and higher fees, right until the middle of the 1940s. He was diagnosed with what he referred to as a throat problem then, and gave up acting. By then, he had a ranch in Oregon where he and his wife lived. Pallette was also extremely pessimistic about the future of the human race, was on record as believing that some catastrophe would wipe us out, and reportedly had stockpiled food and water in a survivalist frame of mind. He died of throat cancer in the late summer of 1954, at age 65.

Trivia: Trained as an actress in Southern and Midwestern stock companies, the lovely Leatrice Joy entered films as an extra in 1915. Her first break was as the leading lady in the 2-reel comedies starring Chaplin imitator Billy West, wherein she was often menaced by top-hatted villain Oliver Hardy. During the early 1920s, Joy was under contract to Cecil B. DeMille, starring in such extravaganzas as Manslaughter (1922) and The Ten Commandments (1923); she later would recall that the plots of these films were corny in the extreme and that DeMille could be a merciless martinet, but that she was grateful to the director for the salutary effect he had on her career. In most of her silent appearances, Joy was something of a forerunner to Rosalind Russell: the fashionable businesswoman or stuck-up society girl who is eventually "tamed" by the handsome leading man. After appearing in two talkies, Joy retired, reemerging in a good character part as a kittenish elderly lady who is swindled by charming con artist Frank Fay in 1951's Love Nest. At the height of her 1920s fame, Leatrice Joy was married to superstar John Gilbert; their daughter, Leatrice Joy Gilbert Fountain, authored the Gilbert autobiography Dark Star.

Trivia: Blonde, dimpled, and vivacious, June Storey became the perfect leading lady for cowboy troubadour Gene Autry, opposite whom she starred in no less than ten singing Westerns. In the U.S. since the age of five, the Canadian-born starlet was awarded a screen test with Fox (soon to become 20th Century Fox) in 1934, courtesy of an uncle's friendship with production head Winfield Sheehan. Despite a highly inadequate performance, Sheehan liked her pluck and Storey was awarded a player's contract. She didn't do much actual screen work, however, but spent most of her time at Fox studying acting with Florence Enright and taking dancing lessons from Rita Hayworth's father, Eduardo Cansino. A small role as a German girl in Henry King's In Old Chicago (1938) got the attention of low-budget concern Republic Pictures, who saw in the winsome Storey the perfect foil for Gene Autry, the company's biggest draw at the time.Under term contract with Republic from April 21, 1939, through October 20, 1940, Storey managed to squeeze in ten Westerns with Autry and five additional films before the contract was terminated by mutual agreement. In many ways she was the perfect leading lady for Autry: very agreeable to look upon, competent as a performer by then, and willing to work long, hard hours on location. Often there was not even a dressing room available for the heroine; she later stated, "...and I'd have to find a secluded canyon to change into my cowgirl clothes." The films themselves -- from Home on the Range (1939) to Ride, Tenderfoot, Ride (1940) -- included some of Autry's most genial, and Storey became very popular with the genre's target audience of rural moviegoers. But like most performers, she eventually found B-Westerns too limiting, and apart from Columbia's Song of the Prairie (1945), she never did another.Returning to Fox in the late '40s, Storey appeared in non-Western programmers and retired to marry an Oregon rancher. Divorced and the survivor of a near-fatal car accident, she later took up nursing, re-married, and became active in charity work. In her final years, a much heavier but still sparkling June Storey became a treasured guest speaker at various nostalgia and B-Western fairs.

Trivia: From 1922 through 1934, Iowa-born performer Frank Jenks was a song and dance man in vaudeville. He began picking up day work in Hollywood films in 1933, and by 1937 had worked his way up to a contract with Universal Pictures. Jenks was seen in sizeable character roles in films ranging from the sumptuous Deanna Durbin vehicle 100 Men and a Girl to several entries in the Crime Club B-series. He portrayed sardonic sleuth Bill Crane (a creation of mystery writer Jonathan Latimer) in the Crime Club entries The Westland Case (1937) and Lady in the Morgue (1938). Jenks' familiar Hibernian grin and salty delivery of dialogue graced many a feature of the '40s and '50s; most of the roles were supporting, though Jenks was allowed full leads in an informal series of PRC detective films of the mid '40s. Frank Jenks' most conspicuous assignment of the '50s was as Uthas P. Garvey, the Runyonesque assistant of lovable con artist Alan Mowbray on the TV series Colonel Humphrey Flack, which ran live in 1953-54 and was resurrected for 39 filmed episodes in 1958.

Trivia: Described by film historian William K. Everson as "that supercilious martyr" (he was of course referring to her on-screen personality), Canadian character actress Kathleen Howard usually comported herself before the cameras in a most operatic fashion. And who with better right? Howard was a Metropolitan opera star from 1916 through 1928, turning to film acting only after her voice broke. She was also an accomplished writer, serving on the executive staff of Harper's Bazaar. She made her first movie appearance, appropriately cast as an Italian grande dame, in Death Takes a Holiday (1934). Generations of W.C. Fields fans have doted upon Howard's full-blooded portrayals of Fields' virago wife in It's a Gift (1934) and The Man on the Flying Trapeze (1935). Toning down her screen mannerisms a bit, Kathleen Howard spent her last decade in films in such supporting roles as the melancholy schoolmistress in Deanna Durbin's First Love (1939) and the wry lady judge in One Night in the Tropics (1940).

Trivia: The living image of the man on the Monopoly cards, Thurston Hall began his six-decade acting career on the New England stock-company circuit. Forming his own troupe, Hall toured America, Africa and New Zealand. On Broadway, he was starred in such venerable productions as Ben-Hur and Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch. In films from 1915, Hall appeared in dozens of silents, notably the 1917 Theda Bara version of Cleopatra, in which he played Mark Antony. After 15 years on Broadway, Hall returned to films in 1935, spending the next 20 years portraying many a fatuous businessman, pompous politician, dyspeptic judge or crooked "ward heeler." From 1953 through 1955, Hall was seen as the choleric bank president Mr. Schuyler on the TV sitcom Topper. Towards the end of his life, a thinner, goateed Thurston Hall appeared in several TV commercials as the Kentucky-colonel spokesman for a leading chicken pot pie manufacturer.

Trivia: The daughter of actress Freda Jones, dark-eyed, sad-faced child performer Marcia Mae Jones was an infant when she made her screen bow in Mannequin (1926). There was always an air of tragedy about Marcia Mae; more often than not she played cripples or consumptives who didn't survive past reel five. She was at her best as the terror-stricken Rosalie, the virtual slave of vitriolic Bonita Granville, in These Three (1936). She also proved a good, realistic "opposite" to sweetness'n'light Shirley Temple in Heidi (1937) and A Little Princess. In the 1940s, Jones played grown-up leads in several Monogram and PRC films; she was always worth watching, even when he films were barely tolerable. Latterly billed as Marsha Jones, the actress continued appearing in supporting and minor roles in TV and films until the early 1970s.

Trivia: Raspy-voiced, distinguished-looking actor Samuel S. Hinds was born into a wealthy Brooklyn family. Well-educated at such institutions as Philips Academy and Harvard, Hinds became a New York lawyer. He moved to California in the 1920s, where he developed an interest in theatre and became one of the founders of the Pasadena Playhouse. A full-time actor by the early 1930s, Hinds entered films in 1932. Of his nearly 150 screen appearances, several stand out, notably his portrayal of Bela Lugosi's torture victim in The Raven (1935), the dying John Vincey in She (1935), the crooked political boss in Destry Rides Again (1939) and the doctor father of Lew Ayres in MGM's Dr. Kildare series. He frequently co-starred in the films of James Stewart, playing Stewart's eccentric future father-in-law in You Can't Take It With You (1938) and the actor's banker dad in the holiday perennial It's a Wonderful Life (1946). One of Samuel S. Hinds' final film roles was an uncredited supporting part in the 1948 James Stewart vehicle Call Northside 777.

Trivia: Formidable stage leading lady Doris Lloyd transferred her activities from British repertory to Hollywood in 1925. She was prominently cast as an alluring spy in George Arliss' first talkie Disraeli (1929); one year later, at the tender age of 30, she was seen as the matronly Donna Lucia D'Alvadorez in Charley's Aunt. Swinging back to younger roles in 1933, Lloyd was cast as the tragic Nancy Sykes in the Dickie Moore version of Oliver Twist. By the late 1930s, Lloyd had settled into middle-aged character roles, most often as a domestic or dowager. Doris Lloyd remained active until 1967, with substantial roles in such films as The Time Machine (1960) and The Sound of Music (1965).

Trivia: Together with Arthur Treacher, Olaf Hytten and Wilson Benge, Charles Coleman was one of Hollywood's "perfect butlers." On stage, he was Pauline Frederick's leading man for many years. After touring the U.S. and Australia, he settled in Hollywood in 1923. Coleman was virtually always cast as a gentleman's gentleman, often with a streak of effeminacy; representative Charles Coleman assignments include Bachelor Apartment (1931), Diplomaniacs (1933), Three Smart Girls (1937) and Cluny Brown (1946). Charles Coleman is best remembered by film buffs for two classic lines of dialogue. Explaining why he falsely informed his master Charlie Ruggles that he was to dress for a costume ball in Love Me Tonight (1932), Coleman "I did so want to see you in tights!" And when asked by Deanna Durbin in First Love (1939) why butlers are always so dour, Coleman moans "Gay butlers are extremely rare."

Trivia: Born John Mulhall, he sang with a traveling show as a boy and later toured in stock and vaudeville. He moved to New York to study art, and while there appeared in several silent films. In 1914 he moved to Los Angeles and soon became a leading man in films, starring in numerous productions opposite major actresses; for a time he earned $3000 a week, but lost his considerable fortune in the first year of the Great Depression. In the early sound era he continued to play leads for a time, mostly in routine films and serials; in the mid '30s he moved into supporting roles, and continued a fairly steady screen career through the mid '40s, after which he appeared in only a few more films.

Trivia: Trained as a dancer, Mary Treen spent the late '20s-early '30s as a leading lady in vaudeville, light opera, and musical comedy. After a handful of Vitaphone short subjects, Treen was signed to a Warner Bros. contract in 1934. She spent the bulk of her film career playing wisecracking clerks and telephone operators, or essaying "heroine's best friend" roles. Her movie assignment was the Tillie the Toiler-type role especially written for her in Paramount's I Love a Soldier (1944), though her many fans would probably nominate her performance as Cousin Tilly in the ubiquitous It's a Wonderful Life (1946). On television, Treen was a regular on the 1954 sitcom Willy, and later played Hilda the maid on The Joey Bishop Show (1962-1965). Mary Treen's final appearance before the cameras was in the 1983 made-for-TV movie Wait Till Your Mother Gets Home!

Trivia: In films from 1936, Dorothy Vaughan spent the next 14 years playing scores of bits and featured roles. Vaughan was at one time or another practically everyone's "mom" or "grandma," devoting the rest of the time to playing nurses, maids, governesses, and charwomen. In Westerns, she could be seen playing such no-nonsense matriarchs as the Commodore in Trail to San Antone (1947). From 1939 to 1942, Dorothy Vaughan was a regular in The Glove Slingers, a two-reel comedy series produced at Columbia.

Trivia: Born Herbert Alonzo McCallister Jr., he studied acting, dancing, and singing from childhood. At age 13 he began appearing onscreen in extra and bit roles. It was more than five years before he began landing speaking parts. After his portrayal of a shy GI in Stage Door Canteen (1943) he became mildly popular, and he went on to play juvenile leads in a number of films; he usually played gentle, boyish young men from the country. He found it difficult to land adult leads, partly due to the fact that he was only 5'6". In 1953 he retired from the screen. He attempted to continue acting onstage but was unsuccessful. He became an extremely successful real estate agent.