Trivia: It is hardly necessary to enumerate the accomplishments, patriotic services, charitable donations, awards, medals, and honorariums pertaining to Bob Hope, a man for whom the word "legend" seems somehow inadequate. Never mind that he was born in England; the entertainer unquestionably became an American institution.Hope's father was a stonemason and his mother a one-time concert singer; when he was two, his parents moved him and his brothers to Cleveland, where relatives awaited. Since everyone in the Hope clan was expected to contribute to the family's income, he took on several part-time jobs early in life. One of these was as a concessionaire at Cleveland's Luna Park, where Hope had his first taste of show business by winning a Charlie Chaplin imitation contest. (He later claimed he'd gotten his brothers to strong-arm all the neighborhood kids to vote for him). At 16, Hope entered the work force full-time as a shoe salesman for a department store, then as a stock boy for an auto company. At night, he and a friend picked up spare change singing at local restaurants and saloons, and, for a brief time, he was an amateur boxer, calling himself "Packy East." Picking up dancing tips from older vaudevillians, Hope decided to devote himself to a show business career, first in partnership with his girlfriend Mildred Rosequist, then with a pal named Lloyd Durbin. Comedian Fatty Arbuckle, headlining a touring revue, caught Hope and Durbin's comedy/dancing act and helped the boys get better bookings. Following the accidental death of Durbin, Hope found another partner, George Byrne, with whom he developed a blackface act. After several career reversals, Hope and Byrne were about to pack it in when they were hired to emcee Marshall Walker's Whiz Bang review in New Castle, PA. As the more loquacious member of the team, Hope went out on-stage as a single and got excellent response for his seemingly ad-libbed wisecracks. It was in this and subsequent vaudeville appearances that Hope learned how to handle tough audiences by having the guts to wait on-stage until everyone in the crowd had gotten his jokes; he was still using this technique seven decades later. Dropping his blackface makeup and cannibalizing every college humor magazine he could get his hands on, Hope took on yet another partner (Louise Troxell) in 1928 and started getting choice vaudeville bookings on the Keith Circuit. A year later, he was given a movie screen test, but was told his ski-slope nose didn't photograph well. With material from legendary gagster Al Boasberg, Hope appeared as a single in The Antics of 1931, which led to a better theatrical gig with Ballyhoo of 1932, in which he was encouraged to ad-lib to his heart's content. He then went back to vaudeville and squeezed in his first radio appearance in 1933 before being hired as the comedy second lead in an important Jerome Kern Broadway musical, Roberta. During the long run of this hit, Hope met and married nightclub singer Dolores Reade, who became still another of his on-stage partners when the play closed and Hope yet again returned to vaudeville. He scored a major success in Ziegfeld Follies of 1936, which spotlighted his talent for sketch comedy, and then co-starred with Ethel Merman and Jimmy Durante in Red, Hot and Blue. In 1937, he was brought to Hollywood for Paramount's The Big Broadcast of 1938, in which he duetted with Shirley Ross in the Oscar-winning song "Thanks for the Memory," which became his signature theme from then on. Hope's first few years at Paramount found him appearing in relatively sedate comedy leads, but with The Cat and the Canary (1939) he solidified his screen persona as the would-be great lover and "brave coward" who hides his insecurities with constant wisecracking. In 1940, Hope was teamed with Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour for Road to Singapore, the first of the still-uproarious "Road" series that featured everything from in-jokes about Bob and Bing's private lives to talking camels. While continuing to make money at the box office, Hope was also starring in his long running NBC radio program, which was distinguished by its sharp topical humor and censor-baiting risqué material. But it was not so much his show business earnings as his profitable real estate deals and holdings that formed the basis of Hope's immense personal fortune. In the midst of all his media clowning during World War II, Hope worked tirelessly as a U.S.O. entertainer for troops in the U.S. and abroad -- so much so that he was unable to make any films at all in 1944. In 1950, Hope inaugurated a long-term television contract with NBC, which resulted in more than 40 years worth of periodic specials that never failed to sweep the ratings. He also later hosted (and occasionally starred in) an Emmy-winning '60s anthology series, Bob Hope Presents The Chrysler Theatre. With his film box-office receipts flagging in the early '50s (audiences didn't quite buy the idea of a 50-year-old man playing a 30-ish girl chaser), Hope took the advice of writer/directors Norman Panama and Melvin Frank and attempted a dramatic film role as Eddie Foy Sr. in The Seven Little Foys (1955). He succeeded in both pulling off the character and in packing a relatively maudlin script with humanity and humor. Hope's last "straight" film part was as New York City Mayor Jimmy Walker in Beau James (1957), in which he again acquitted himself quite nicely. Having long taken a percentage of profits on his Paramount releases, Hope became his own producer in 1957, which at first resulted in such fine pictures as Alias Jesse James (1959) and The Facts of Life (1960, with frequent co-star Lucille Ball). But the quality of Hope's films took a depressing downward spiral in the '60s, and even hard-core Hope fans were hard-pressed to suffer though such dogs as Boy, Did I Get a Wrong Number! (1966) and The Private Navy of Sgt. O'Farrell (1968). It has been theorized that Hope was too wealthy and much too busy with a multitude of other projects to care about the sorry state of his films. Besides, even the worst of the Hope pictures posted a profit, which to him evidently meant more than whether or not the films were any good. His last feature film appearance was a 1985 cameo in Spies Like Us, a spoof of the road pictures he made with Crosby. In 1991, he again traveled overseas to entertain U.S. troops -- this time in Saudi Arabia during the first Gulf War. Though Hope's only onscreen appearances through the remainder of the decade would prove archival in origin, generations of fans would later show their appreciation for his enduring career in the 2003 television special 100 Years of Hope and Humor. Hope proved too frail to attend the celebration in person, though his friends and family assured the public that the star was indeed overwhelmed at the outpouring of public affection.On Sunday, July 27, 2003, the world lost one of its most beloved comic talents when Bob Hope died of pneumonia in Taluca Lake, CA. He was 100.

Trivia: American actor/singer Bing Crosby acquired his nickname as a child in Washington state. As the legend goes, little Harry Lillis Crosby's favorite comic strip was "The Bingville Bugle," in which the leading character was called Bingo. Hence, the boy was "Bingo" Crosby, with the "O" dropping off as he got older. A restless youth, Crosby tried studying law at Gonzaga University, but spent more time as a drummer and singer in a Spokane band. He and his pal Al Rinker worked up a musical act, and were later joined by Harry Barris. As the Rhythm Boys, the three young entertainers were hired by bandleader Paul Whiteman, who featured them in his nightclub appearances and his film debut, The King of Jazz (1930). Crosby managed to score on radio in 1931, and a series of two-reel comedies made for Mack Sennett helped him launch a screen career; his starring feature debut was in 1932's The Big Broadcast. During this period, he married singer Dixie Lee, with whom he had sons Gary, Dennis, Philip and Lindsay. As one of Paramount's most popular stars of the '30s, and with his carefully cultivated image of an easygoing, golf-happy, regular guy, generous contributor to charities, devoted husband, father, and friend, Crosby became an icon of American values. In 1940, he made the first of several appearances with his golfing buddy Bob Hope, ultimately resulting in seven "Road" pictures which, thanks to the stars' laid-back improvisational style, seem as fresh today as they did at the time. Another milestone occurred in 1944, when director Leo McCarey asked Crosby to play a priest in an upcoming film. Crosby, a devout Catholic, at first refused on the grounds that it would be in bad taste. But McCarey persisted, and Crosby ended up winning an Oscar for his performance in Going My Way (1944). He ushered in a new technological era a few years later when he signed a contract to appear on a weekly ABC variety show provided that it not be live, but tape recorded -- a first for network radio -- so that Crosby could spend more time on the golf course. With the death of his wife Dixie in 1952, the devastated entertainer dropped out of the movie business for a full year; but his life took an upswing when he married young actress Kathryn Grant in 1957. His film roles were few in the '60s, but Crosby was a television fixture during those years, and could be counted on each Yuletide to appear on just about everyone's program singing his signature holiday tune, "White Christmas." Burdened by life-threatening illnesses in the mid-'70s, the singer nonetheless embarked on concert tours throughout the world, surviving even a dangerous fall into an orchestra pit. Crosby died from a heart attack in 1977, shortly after he had finished the 18th hole on a Spanish golf course.

Trivia: American actress/singer Dorothy Lamour graduated from Spencer Business College, after spending a few teen years as an elevator operator in her home town of New Orleans. By 1930, she'd turned her back on the business world and was performing in the Fanchon and Marco vaudeville troupe. In 1931, she became vocalist for the Herbie Kay Band, and soon afterward married (briefly) Kay. In the years just prior to her film debut, Lamour built up a solid reputation as a radio singer, notably on the 1934 series Dreamer of Songs. Paramount Pictures signed Lamour to a contract in 1936, creating an exotic southseas image for the young actress: she wore her fabled sarong for the first time in Jungle Princess (1936), the first of three nonsensical but high-grossing "jungle" films in which the ingenuous island girl asked her leading man what a kiss was. A more prestigious "sarong" role came about in Goldwyn's The Hurricane (1937), wherein Lamour, ever the trouper, withstood tons of water being thrust upon her in the climactic tempest of the film's title. A major star by 1939, Lamour had developed enough onscreen self awareness to amusingly kid her image in St. Louis Blues (1939), in which she played a jaded movie star who balked at playing any more southseas parts. Lamour's latter-day fame was secured in 1940, when she co-starred in Road to Singapore (1940), the first of six "Road" pictures teaming Lamour with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby. It represented both a career summit and a downslide: As the "Road" series progressed, Lamour found herself with fewer and fewer comic lines, and by 1952's Road to Bali she was little more than a decorative "straight woman" for Bob and Bing. Very popular with the troops during World War II, Lamour gave selflessly of her time and talent in camp tours, USO shows and bond drives throughout the early 1940s. A tough cookie who brooked no nonsense on the set, Lamour was nonetheless much loved by Paramount casts and crews, many of which remained friends even after the studio dropped her contract in the early 1950s. Occasionally retiring from films during her heyday to devote time to her family, Lamour was out of Hollywood altogether between 1952 and 1962, during which time she developed a popular nightclub act. She returned to films for Hope and Crosby's Road to Hong Kong (1962), not as leading lady (that assignment was given to Joan Collins) but as a special guest star -- this time she was allowed as many joke lines as her co-stars in her one scene. More on stage than on film in the 1960s and 1970s, Lamour was one of several veteran actresses to star in Hello Dolly, and spent much of her time in regional productions of such straight plays as Barefoot in the Park. She took on a few film and television roles in the '70s and '80s, participated in many Bob Hope TV birthday specials, and was the sprightly subject of an interview conducted by Prof. Richard Brown on cable's American Movie Classics channel. Dorothy Lamour passed away in her North Hollywood, California home in 1996 at the age of 81.

Trivia: Yale-educated actor Murvyn Vye was closely associated with the Theatre Guild in the 1940s, originating the role of Jigger Craigin in the Guild's 1945 staging of Rodgers and Hammerstein's Carousel. Vye brought his froglike countenance to Hollywood in 1947. In his first film, Golden Earrings, he played the gypsy who warbled the title song. Vye went on to play a dour Merlin in the Bing Crosby version of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court (1949) before returning to Broadway. He was cast as the Kralahome in Rodgers and Hammerstein's The King and I, but left the production during tryouts when his songs were cut. Back in Hollywood, Vye continued essaying sinister film and TV roles throughout the 1950s. For reasons best known to himself, he went unbilled in the important part of Joan Collins' martini-imbibing husband in Leo McCarey's Rally Round the Flag, Boys (1959). In 1961, Vye was cast as the hero's general factotum in The Bob Cummings Show (not to be confused with Love That Bob), an assignment which lasted all of 13 weeks. Murvyn Vye's last film was the independent, Manhattan-based Andy (1965).

Trivia: A favorite of producer/director Jack Webb, character actor Ralph Moody was a familiar face to viewers of Dragnet in both its 1950s and 1960s incarnations -- but that would be an unfair (as well as inaccurate) way to describe an actor who amassed hundreds of film and television appearances in barely 20 years of movie and television work. Born in St. Louis, MO, in 1886, Moody didn't make his screen debut until 1948, with a small role in Man Eaters of Kumaon. Already in his sixties, he always looked older than he was, and his craggy features could also impart a fierceness that made him threatening. Although Moody was known for playing kindly or crotchety old men, he occasionally brought that fierceness to bear, as in the Adventures of Superman episode "Test of a Warrior", in which he played the sinister medicine man Okatee. But in between that and dozens of other one-off television assignments, Moody also managed to work in scenes as the coffin-boat skipper in Samuel Fuller's Pickup on South Street and one of the rescue workers in Billy Wilder's Ace in the Hole. Moody was one of those actors who could work quickly and milk a line or a scene for all its emotional worth. What's more, he could do it without over-emoting. He was the kind of character player that directors and producers in budget-conscious television of the 1950s needed. In an episode of Circus Boy, he played a touching scene with a young Micky Dolenz, as an aging railroad engineer introducing the boy to the world of locomotives and trains. After that, Moody got called back to do three more episodes. But it was Jack Webb who really put him to work in Dragnet and many of his other productions, in radio and feature films as well as television. His more memorable appearances on Dragnet included "The Big Producer", as a once-famous movie producer who is reduced to selling pornographic pictures to high-school students, and "The Hammer", from the 1967 revival of the series, in which he portrayed the neighbor of a murder victim. Moody continued working regularly in television until a year before his death in 1971, at age 84. His final appearance was in the Night Gallery episode "The Little Black Bag".

Trivia: Austrian actor Leon Askin began his stage career in Germany, then left Europe as abruptly as possible when Hitler came to power. He reactivated his career in New York in 1940, becoming an American citizen three years later. In 1952, Askin made his first Hollywood film, Assignment Paris; though not quite as heavy or menacing-looking as he'd be in the 1960s, the actor was typecast from his first movie as a villain, usually fascist. One of his best early film roles was in Road to Bali (1953), a Hope-Crosby farce in which he played a South Seas witch doctor named Ramayana. Askin later appeared in Danny Kaye's Knock on Wood (1954), this time (typically) cast as a trenchcoated Teutonic spy. More of Askin's "shifty foreigner" characterizations could be enjoyed in The Bowery Boys' Spy Chasers (1955), Billy Wilder's One Two Three (1961), and the notorious political sex farce John Goldfarb Please Come Home (1964), in which the actor played a turbaned arab. As a Nazi officer (surprise, surprise) in What Did You Do In the War, Daddy?, Askin dropped dead in anticipation of an evening in bed with a pretty young Italian girl, whereupon the local underground was forced to tote his corpulent corpse all around town to hide the fact that he'd expired. Active in films and as a drama teacher and lecturer into the 1980s, Leon Askin is best known to American TV addicts as the gross (and gross-kopfed) SS officer Burkhalter on the 1960s sitcom Hogan's Heroes.

Trivia: Voluptuous sex symbol and star of Hollywood films, TV, and nightclubs, Jane Russell was the daughter of an actress. She worked as a receptionist and model, and studied theater at Max Reinhardt's Theatrical Workshop and with Maria Ouspenskaya. Endowed with a large bust, she won the lead role in Howard Hughes's The Outlaw (1941) after Hughes conducted a nationwide search for a curvaceous actress, eventually finding her working in his dentist's office. The film caused a storm of controversy due primarily to the amount of cleavage shown by Russell onscreen, and, after brief releases in 1941 and 1943, it was not officially released until 1950. The controversy brought her much publicity, often in the form of off-color, sophomoric jokes. However, she surpassed her mindless "bombshell" image and went on to perform with versatility in a number of films during the subsequent three decades, including comedies with Bob Hope and musicals with Marilyn Monroe. She often played cynical, "tough broads," and starred in the Broadway musical Company in 1971. TV viewers may also remember her for a series of bra commercials during the '70s.

Trivia: Dean Martin found phenomenal success in almost every entertainment venue and, although suffering a few down times during his career, always managed to come out on top. During the '50s, he and partner Jerry Lewis formed one of the most popular comic film duos in filmdom. After splitting with Lewis, he was associated with the Hollywood's ultra-cool "Rat Pack" and came to be known as the chief deputy to the "Chairman of the Board," Frank Sinatra. Although initially a comic actor, Martin also proved himself in such dramas as The Young Lions (1958), more than holding his own opposite Marlon Brando and Montgomery Clift. He was also never above poking sly fun at his image as a smooth womanizer in such outings as the Matt Helm spy spoofs of the '60s. As a singer, Martin was, by his own admission, not the greatest baritone on earth, and made no bones about having copied the styles of Bing Crosby and Perry Como. He couldn't even read music, and yet recorded more than 100 albums and 500 songs, racking up major hits such as "That's Amore," "Volare," and his signature tune "Everybody Loves Somebody." Elvis Presley was said to have been influenced by him, and patterned "Love Me Tender" after his style. For three decades, Martin was among the most popular nightclub acts in Las Vegas. Although a smooth comic, he never wrote his own material. On television, Martin had a highly-rated, near-decade-long series; it was there that he perfected his famous laid-back persona of the half-soused crooner suavely hitting on beautiful women with sexist remarks that would get anyone else slapped, and making snappy, if not somewhat slurred, remarks about fellow celebrities during his famous roasts. Martin attributed his long-term TV popularity to the fact that he never put on airs or pretended to be anyone else on-stage, but that's not necessarily true. Those closest to him categorized him as a great enigma; for, despite all his exterior fame and easy-going charm, Martin was a complex, introverted soul and a loner. Even his closest friend, Frank Sinatra, only saw Martin once or twice per year. His private passions were golf, going to restaurants, and watching television. He loathed parties -- even when hosting them -- and would sometimes sneak off to bed without telling a soul. He once said in a 1978 interview for Esquire magazine, that, although he loved performing, particularly in nightclubs, if he had to do it over again he would be a professional golfer or baseball player. The son of a Steubenville, OH, barber, Martin (born Dine Crochets) dropped out of school in the tenth grade and took a string of odd jobs ranging from steel mill worker to bootlegger; at the age of 15, he was a 135-pound boxer who billed himself as "Kid Crocetti." It was from his prize-fighting years that he got a broken nose (it was later fixed), a permanently split lip, and his beat-up hands. For a time, he was involved with gambling as a roulette stickman and black jack croupier. At the same time, he practiced his singing with local bands. Billing himself as "Dino Martini," he got his first break working for the Ernie McKay Orchestra. A hernia got Martin out of the Army during WW II, and, with wife and children in tow, he worked for several bands throughout the early '40s, scoring more on looks and personality than vocal ability until he developed his own smooth singing style. Failing to achieve a screen test at MGM, Martin appeared permanently destined for the nightclub circuit until he met fledgling comic Jerry Lewis at the Glass Hat Club in New York, where both men were performing. Martin and Lewis formed a fast friendship which led to their participating in each other's acts, and ultimately forming a music/comedy team. Martin and Lewis' official debut together occurred at Atlantic City's Club 500 on July 25, 1946, and club patrons throughout the East Coast were soon convulsed by the act, which consisted primarily of Lewis interrupting and heckling Martin while the he was trying to sing, and, ultimately, the two of them chasing each other around the stage and having as much fun as possible. A radio series commenced in 1949, the same year that Martin and Lewis were signed by Paramount producer Hal Wallis as comedy relief for the film My Friend Irma. Martin and Lewis was the hottest act in nightclubs, films, and television during the early '50s, but the pace and the pressure took its toll, and the act broke up in 1956, ten years to the day after the first official teaming. Lewis had no trouble maintaining his film popularity alone, but Martin, unfairly regarded by much of the public and the motion picture industry as something of a spare tire to his former partner, found the going rough, and his first solo-starring film (Ten Thousand Bedrooms [1957]) bombed. Never totally comfortable in films, Martin still wanted to be known as a real actor. So, though offered a fraction of his former salary to co-star in the war drama The Young Lions (1957), he eagerly agreed in order that he could be with and learn from Brando and Clift. The film turned out to be the cornerstone of Martin's spectacular comeback; by the mid-'60s, he was a top movie, recording, and nightclub attraction, even as Lewis' star began to eclipse. In 1965, Martin launched the weekly NBC comedy-variety series The Dean Martin Show, which exploited his public image as a lazy, carefree boozer, even though few entertainers worked as hard to make what they were doing look easy. It's also no secret that Martin was sipping apple juice, not booze, most of the time on-stage. He stole the lovable-drunk shtick from Phil Harris; and his convincing portrayals of heavy boozers in Some Came Running (1958) and Howard Hawk's Rio Bravo (1959) led to unsubstantiated claims of alcoholism. In the late '70s, Martin concentrated on club dates, recordings, and an occasional film, and even make an appearance on the Jerry Lewis MDA telethon in 1978. (Talk of a complete reconciliation and possible re-teaming of their old act, however, was dissipated when it was clear that, to paraphrase Lewis, the men may have loved each other, but didn't like each other). Martin's even-keel world began to crumble in 1987, when his son Dean Paul was killed in a plane crash. A much-touted tour with old pals Sammy Davis Jr. and Frank Sinatra in 1989 was abruptly canceled, and the public was led to believe it was due to a falling out with Sinatra; only intimates knew that Martin was a very sick man, who had never completely recovered from the loss of his son and who was suffering from an undisclosed illness. But Martin courageously kept his private life private, emerging briefly and rather jauntily for a public celebration of his 77th birthday with friends and family. Whatever his true state of health, he proved in this rare public appearance that he was still the inveterate showman. Martin died of respiratory failure on Christmas morning, 1995. He was 78.

Trivia: Perhaps no popular film artist in history inspired quite so many conflicting opinions and emotions as actor/comedian Jerry Lewis. Often reviled in his native United States but worshipped as a genius throughout much of Europe and especially France, Lewis took slapstick comedy to new realms of absurdity and outrageousness, his anarchic vision dividing audiences who found him infantile and witless from those who applauded the ambitions of his sight gags, his subversions of standard comedic patterns, and his films' acute criticisms of American values. Regardless of opinion, he was not only one of the biggest stars of the postwar era but also one of the most powerful, and as the writer, director, and producer of many of his features, he qualified as a comic auteur firmly in the tradition of Chaplin and Keaton.Born Joseph Levitch in Newark, NJ, on March 16, 1926, he was the son of borscht-belt comics, spending the majority of his childhood living with relatives but joining his parents each summer as they performed in the Catskills. From the age of five on, Lewis occasionally performed in his parents' act, and later quit high school in order to travel with his own comedy routine, which consisted primarily of mocking famous entertainers while their records were played off-stage. His early years as a performer were lean, and he often resorted to work as a soda jerk, a theater usher, an office clerk, or any one of a number of short-lived jobs. During the summers, he too made the rounds of the Catskills' borscht circuit, but otherwise enjoyed little success.In 1946, Lewis met another struggling performer, a handsome singer named Dean Martin. Later that year, while playing Atlantic City's 500 Club, another act abruptly quit the show, and Lewis suggested Martin to fill the void. Initially the two performed separately, but one night they threw out their routines and teamed on-stage, a Mutt-and-Jeff combo whose wildly improvisational comedy quickly made them a star attraction along the Boardwalk. Within months, Martin and Lewis' salaries rocketed from 350 to 5,000 dollars a week, and by the end of the 1940s, they were the most popular comedy duo in the nation. In 1949, they made their film debut in George Marshall's My Friend Irma, and their supporting work proved so popular with audiences that their roles were significantly expanded for the sequel, the following year's My Friend Irma Goes West. With 1951's At War With the Army, Martin and Lewis earned their first star billing. The picture established the basic formula of all of their subsequent movie work, with Martin the suave straight man forced to suffer the bizarre antics of the manic fool Lewis. Critics often loathed the duo, but audiences couldn't get enough. In all, they made 13 comedies for Paramount, among them 1952's Jumping Jacks, 1953's Scared Stiff, and 1955's Artists and Models, a superior effort directed by Frank Tashlin. For 1956's Hollywood or Bust, Tashlin was again in the director's seat, but the movie was the team's last; after Martin and Lewis' relationship soured to the point where they were no longer even speaking to one another, they announced their breakup following the conclusion of their July 25, 1956, performance at the Copacabana, which celebrated to the day the tenth anniversary of their first show.Working again as a solo performer, Lewis also served as producer on his first post-Martin star vehicle, 1957's The Delicate Delinquent. Reviews were good, and later that same year he starred in The Sad Sack. With 1958's Rock-a-Bye Baby, he teamed again with Tashlin, the first of six Lewis comedies the director helmed; they next united for The Geisha Boy. Under Norman Taurog, Lewis returned in 1959 with Don't Give up the Ship. At the time of its release, he signed an exclusive contract with Paramount for ten million dollars and 60 percent of his box-office profits, the biggest payday of its kind in Hollywood history; at its peak, his popularity was so great that he even starred in a DC Comics book. Lewis celebrated his success by making another feature for Taurog, 1960's Visit to a Small Planet, before returning to work under Tashlin for Cinderfella.With 1960's The Bellboy, Lewis made his directorial debut. Here his comic vision began to truly take flight, with only a bare-bones plot and virtually no dialogue to best serve his ambitious gags. He also directed and produced 1961's The Ladies' Man, a lavishly filmed, vicious satire on American femininity, followed by The Errand Boy, another collection of sight gags which earned favorable comparison to the work of Jacques Tati. Under Tashlin, Lewis next starred in 1962's It's Only Money. Returning to the director's chair, he filmed his masterpiece, The Nutty Professor, a comic retelling of the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde tale which, while dismissed by American critics, solidified his following among European filmgoers, especially the staff of the influential Cahiers du Cinema.In between 1963's Who's Minding the Store? and 1964's The Disorderly Orderly, both written and directed by Tashlin, Lewis also helmed The Patsy, his most ambitious work to date. In 1965's The Family Jewels, he not only wrote and directed, but also played seven different roles. The picture was among his first not to become a major box-office success. He subsequently traveled to France to star in John Rich's Boeing Boeing. There "Le Roi du Crazy" (as he was dubbed) was met by adoring fans and critics with a three-week film festival, as well as a complete retrospective at the Cinematheque Francais. However, the feature was Lewis' last for Paramount, who found his insistence upon complete artistic control to be at odds with the increasingly disappointing box-office showings of his films.In 1966, after landing at Columbia to direct and star in Three on a Couch, Lewis hosted his first Labor Day telethon to raise funds in support of the Muscular Dystrophy Association. The star-studded event quickly became an institution, annually bringing in millions upon millions in charitable contributions. Lewis next starred in the Gordon Douglas space comedy Way, Way Out, followed by 1967's The Big Mouth, which he directed and co-wrote. He next appeared in Jerry Paris' Don't Raise the Bridge, Lower the River and George Marshall's Hook, Line and Sinker, subsequently directing (but, for the first and only time, not starring) in 1969's One More Time. None of the movies found favor with audiences or critics, however, and after the failure of 1970's Which Way to the Front?, Lewis' career in Hollywood was in grave condition. While seeking funding for his next project, in 1971 he wrote a book, The Total Filmmaker. With financing from the Swedish-based Cinema and Film Enterprises, in 1972 Lewis mounted The Day the Clown Cried, a disturbing tale focusing on a famous clown forced by the Nazis to lead children to their deaths in the gas chambers. Widely speculated to be either a transcendent masterpiece or an obscene failure, the radical feature was never released, remaining trapped in legal limbo. Lewis spent the remainder of the decade out of film, appearing instead in the disastrous Broadway production Helzapoppin' as well as in concert and on the lecture circuit. Finally, in 1979 he wrote, directed, and starred in Hardly Working; though not released until two years later because of financial entanglements, the movie proved to be a major success, grossing over 50 million dollars in North America alone.In late 1982, Lewis was declared clinically dead after suffering a massive heart attack. He was miraculously revived, and the excessive lifestyle that led to his near-death experience became the subject of his 1983 feature Smorgasbord, which later premiered on HBO as Cracking Up before finally bowing in theaters in 1985. In the meantime, Lewis garnered some of the best reviews of his career for his work in Martin Scorsese's The King of Comedy, but his performance did not lead to work in other major Hollywood productions. As a result, he traveled to France, appearing in the 1984 comedies To Catch a Cop and Par Ou T'es Rentre? on T'a Pas Vue Sortir. The dismal Slapstick of Another Kind also arrived in 1984, with only small roles in the 1987 telefilm Fight for Life and Susan Seidelman's 1989 effort Cookie, as well as an extended supporting turn in the television series Wiseguy. By the 1990s, Lewis experienced something of a resurgence. Although he remained unable to secure directorial work, he did appear in the major studio films Mr. Saturday Night and Funny Bones. Additionally, he starred on Broadway in a successful revival of Damn Yankees and in 1996, The Nutty Professor was remade by Eddie Murphy.

Trivia: Though he pretended to find it amusing, singer/bandleader Bob Crosby was rather sensitive about being constantly bracketed with his older brother Bing. At one point, Crosby observed in 1958, "it got so bad that whenever someone asked me what my occupation was, I used to answer automatically 'Bing Crosby's brother.'" To many jazz aficionados, however, Bob was the only Crosby, by virtue of his famous musical aggregation "The Bobcats," which he formed in 1935. Crosby and his able musicians Yank Lawson, Bob Haggart, Ray Bauduc, Eddie Miller, Bob Zurke, Jesse Stacey and Joe Sullivan delivered some of the hottest jazz ever to emanate from a primarily white orchestra. Because of Bing's movie popularity, Bob's handlers decided that records, radio and nightclubs weren't enough: the "other Crosby" would have to have a movie career as well, thus Bob made his film debut in 1935's Rhythm on the Roof. Crosby made a few tentative stabs at playing characters other than himself in films like Let's Make Music (1940) and The Singing Sheriff (1944), but he seemed more comfortable playing "himself' in guest spots. One of his more enjoyable screen appearances was in Two Tickets to Broadway (1951), wherein Crosby genially poked fun at brother Bing in the delightful production number "Let's Make Comparisons." He also popped up unbilled from time to time in Bing's pictures: in Road to Bali, Bob walks on, says hello to his brother, fires a gun into the air and walks off, whereupon Bing explains "I promised him a shot in this picture." Entering television as orchestra leader for The Jack Benny Show (a job he'd taken over from Phil Harris on radio), Crosby successfully starred on his own daytime program for CBS, which ran from 1953 through 1957; he then moved to NBC, where he headlined a prime-time summer replacement series for Perry Como in 1958. Bob Crosby made his final film appearance along with several other jazz greats in the Red Nichols biopic The Five Pennies (1959).

Trivia: From Kansas but of Hawaiian descent, stunt man and bit-part player Al Kikume (born Kaikumi) became a fixture in Hollywood jungle melodramas and serials from 1933 to the mid-'50s. A warrior in Tarzan the Fearless (1933), his first credited appearance, Kikume later played Chief Lutembi in Republic Pictures' legendary jungle serial Jungle Girl (1941). He was demoted to a mere member of the tribe in the even more fondly remembered sequel, Perils of Nyoka (1942), but was created a chief again in the self-explanatory Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla (1952). The veteran bit player died of a heart ailment.

Trivia: Though best known for his Native American characterizations, Michael Ansara was actually of Lebanese descent. Ansara, born in Syria and raised in Lowell, Massachusetts, entered Los Angeles City College in 1941, planning to become a doctor. His shyness in class prompted his professor to suggest that Ansara take a dramatics course to bolster his self-confidence. The medical profession's loss turned out to be the acting community's gain: after training at Pasadena Playhouse, Ansara blossomed as a classical actor with such groups as the Hollywood Players' Ring. The role that brought Ansara to the attention of Hollywood's higher-ups was his brief, uncredited appearance as the tormented Judas in The Robe (1953). He went on to be cast as Cochise in the 1956 TV series version of the 1950 20th Century-Fox feature Broken Arrow; while the role brought him fame and fortune, Ansara noted that "the acting range was rather limited. Cochise could do one of two things--stand with his arms folded, looking noble; or stand with his arms at his sides, looking noble." He was allowed a more flexible acting range, as well as a wider vocabulary, in his next Indian assignment, that of Harvard-educated federal marshal Sam Buckhart in the 1959 western series Law of the Plainsman. In later years, Ansara was active in the lucrative world of TV cartoon voiceover work. He was married for several years to actress Barbara Eden.

Trivia: Haughty, statuesque stage actress Patricia Dane was signed to an MGM contract in 1941. She played a small but noticeable role in the Clark Gable vehicle Somewhere I'll Find You (1942) before finding her particular niche as the perennial "other woman," murder suspect/victim, and comedy foil for the likes of Red Skelton and Abbott and Costello. She also found time to marry bandleader Tommy Dorsey (she appeared with Dorsey's brother Jimmy in 1944's I Dood It) and screenwriter Sy Bartlett. Though hardly a great actress, Dane earned a place in the hearts of beleaguered studio employees everywhere when she brusquely told off an obstreperous studio executive in full view of cast and crew. This may be why Pat Dane showed up only in minor roles and bits after MGM dropped her in 1945.

Trivia: American actor and drama coach Roy Gordon made his first film appearance in 1938. A bit player for most of his Hollywood career, Gordon was at his best as corporate-executive types. He also played many a college dean, banker and military officer. Late Late Show habitues will remember Roy Gordon for his poignant cameo as doomed passenger Isidore Straus in Titanic (1953).

Trivia: There's a bit of a cloud surrounding the origins of character actor Harry Cording. The 1970 biographical volume The Versatiles lists his birthplace as New York City, while the exhaustive encyclopedia Who Was Who in Hollywood states that Cording was born in England. Whatever the case, Cording made his mark from 1925 through 1955 in distinctly American roles, usually portraying sadistic western bad guys. A break from his domestic villainy occurred in the 1934 Universal horror film The Black Cat, in which a heavily-made-up Harry Cording played the foreboding, zombie-like servant to Satan-worshipping Boris Karloff.

Trivia: Trained at the Pasadena Playhouse, Texas-born Carolyn Jones supported herself as a radio disk jockey when acting jobs were scarce. She entered films as a bit player in 1952, attaining prominence for a role in which (for the most part) she neither moved nor spoke: the waxwork Joan of Arc -- actually one of mad sculptor Vincent Price's many murder victims -- in 1953's House of Wax. In 1957, Jones was Oscar-nominated for her five-minute role as a pathetic "good time girl" in The Bachelor Party; two years later, she stole the show in Frank Capra's A Hole in the Head as Frank Sinatra's bongo-playing girlfriend. During the early 1960s, Jones was married to producer Aaron Spelling, who frequently cast her on such TV series as The Dick Powell Show and Burke's Law. In 1964, Jones achieved TV sitcom immortality as the ghoulishly sexy Morticia Addams on the popular series The Addams Family. Though her TV and movie activities were curtailed by illness in her last decade (she died of cancer in 1983), Carolyn Jones continued making occasional appearances, notably a return engagement as Morticia in a 1978 Addams Family reunion special.

Trivia: A former player for the Washington Redskins, Allan Nixon starred in numerous action films of the 1950s and early '60s. In between his athletic and acting careers, the curly haired, muscular, and Mediterranean-looking Nixon worked as a model. He made his film debut in The Mortal Storm (1940).

Trivia: "I'm a personality as well as an actress," Katharine Hepburn once declared. "Show me an actress who isn't a personality, and you'll show me a woman who isn't a star." Hepburn's bold, distinctive personality was apparent almost from birth. She inherited from her doctor father and suffragette mother her three most pronounced traits: an open and ever-expanding mind, a healthy body (maintained through constant rigorous exercise), and an inability to tell anything less than the truth. Hepburn was more a personality than an actress when she took the professional plunge after graduating from Bryn Mawr in 1928; her first stage parts were bits, but she always attracted attention with her distinct New England accent and her bony, sturdy frame. The actress' outspokenness lost her more jobs than she received, but, in 1932, she finally scored on Broadway with the starring role in The Warrior's Husband. She didn't want to sign the film contract offered her by RKO, so she made several "impossible" demands concerning salary and choice of scripts. The studios agreed to her terms, and, in 1932, she made her film debut opposite John Barrymore in A Bill of Divorcement (despite legends to the contrary, the stars got along quite well). Critical reaction to Hepburn's first film set the tone for the next decade: Some thought that she was the freshest and most original actress in Hollywood, while others were irritated by her mannerisms and "artificial" speech patterns. For her third film, Morning Glory (1933), Hepburn won the first of her four Oscars. But despite initial good response to her films, Hepburn lost a lot of popularity during her RKO stay because of her refusal to play the "Hollywood game." She dressed in unfashionable slacks and paraded about without makeup; refused to pose for pinup pictures, give autographs, or grant interviews; and avoided mingling with her co-workers. As stories of her arrogance and self-absorption leaked out, moviegoers responded by staying away from her films. The fact that Hepburn was a thoroughly dedicated professional -- letter-perfect in lines, completely prepared and researched in her roles, the first to arrive to the set each day and the last to leave each evening -- didn't matter in those days, when style superseded substance. Briefly returning to Broadway in 1933's The Lake, Hepburn received devastating reviews from the same critics who found her personality so bracing in The Warrior's Husband. The grosses on her RKO films diminished with each release -- understandably so, since many of them (Break of Hearts [1935], Mary of Scotland [1936]) were not very good. She reclaimed the support of RKO executives after appearing in the moneymaking Alice Adams (1935) -- only to lose it again by insisting upon starring in Sylvia Scarlett (1936), a curious exercise in sexual ambiguity that lost a fortune. Efforts to "humanize" the haughty Hepburn personality in Stage Door (1937) and the delightful Bringing Up Baby (1938) came too late; in 1938, she was deemed "box-office poison" by an influential exhibitor's publication. Hepburn's career might have ended then and there, but she hadn't been raised to be a quitter. She went back to Broadway in 1938 with a part written especially for her in Philip Barry's The Philadelphia Story. Certain of a hit, she bought the film rights to the play; thus, when it ended up a success, she was able to negotiate her way back into Hollywood on her own terms, including her choice of director and co-stars. Produced by MGM in 1940, the film version was a box-office triumph, and Hepburn had beaten the "poison" label. In her next MGM film, Woman of the Year (1942), Hepburn co-starred with Spencer Tracy, a copacetic teaming that endured both professionally and personally until Tracy's death in 1967. After several years of off-and-on films, Hepburn scored another success with 1951's The African Queen, marking her switch from youngish sophisticates to middle-aged character leads. After 1962's Long Day's Journey Into Night, Hepburn withdrew from performing for nearly five years, devoting her attention to her ailing friend and lover Tracy. She made the last of her eight screen appearances with Tracy in Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967), which also featured her niece Katharine Houghton. Hepburn won her second Oscar for this film, and her third the following year for A Lion in Winter; the fourth was bestowed 13 years later for On Golden Pond (1981). When she came back to Broadway for the 1969 musical Coco, Hepburn proved that the years had not mellowed her; she readily agreed to preface her first speech with a then-shocking profanity, and, during one performance, she abruptly dropped character to chew out an audience member for taking flash pictures. Hepburn made the first of her several television movies in 1975, co-starring with Sir Laurence Olivier in Love Among the Ruins -- and winning an Emmy award, as well. Her last Broadway appearance was in 1976's A Matter of Gravity. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Hepburn continued to star on TV and in films, announcing on each occasion that it would be her last performance. She also began writing books and magazine articles, each of them an extension of her personality: self-centered, well-organized, succinct, and brutally frank (especially regarding herself). While she remained a staunch advocate of physical fitness, Hepburn suffered from a genetic condition, a persistent tremor that caused her head to shake -- an affliction she blithely incorporated into her screen characters. In 1994, Warren Beatty coaxed Hepburn out of her latest retirement to appear as his aristocratic grand-aunt in Love Affair. Though appearing frailer than usual, Hepburn was in complete control of herself and her craft, totally dominating her brief scenes. And into her nineties and on the threshold of her tenth decade, Katharine Hepburn remained the consummate personality, actress, and star.On June 29, 2003 Katharine Hepburn died of natural causes in Old Saybrook, Connetticut. She was 96.

Trivia: The quintessential tough guy, Humphrey Bogart remains one of Hollywood's most enduring legends and one of the most beloved stars of all time. While a major celebrity during his own lifetime, Bogart's appeal has grown almost exponentially in the years following his death, and his inimitable onscreen persona -- hard-bitten, cynical, and enigmatic -- continues to cast a monumental shadow over the motion picture landscape. Sensitive yet masculine, cavalier yet heroic, his ambiguities and contradictions combined to create a larger-than-life image which remains the archetype of the contemporary antihero. Humphrey DeForest Bogart was born December 25, 1899, in New York City. Upon expulsion from Andover, Massachusetts' Phillips Academy, he joined the U.S. Navy during World War I, serving as a ship's gunner. While roughhousing on the vessel's wooden stairway, he tripped and fell, a splinter becoming lodged in his upper lip; the result was a scar as well as partial paralysis of the lip, resulting in the tight-set mouth and lisp that became among his most distinctive onscreen qualities. (For years his injuries were attributed to wounds suffered in battle, although the splinter story is now more commonly accepted.) After the war, Bogart returned to New York to accept a position on Broadway as a theatrical manager; beginning in 1920, he also started appearing onstage, but earned little notice within the performing community. In the late '20s, Bogart followed a few actor friends who had decided to relocate to Hollywood. He made his first film appearance opposite Helen Hayes in the 1928 short The Dancing Town, followed by the 1930 feature Up the River, which cast him as a hard-bitten prisoner. Warner Bros. soon signed him to a 550-dollars-a-week contract, and over the next five years he appeared in dozens of motion pictures, emerging as the perfect heavy in films like 1936's The Petrified Forest, 1937's Dead End, and 1939's The Roaring Twenties. The 1939 tearjerker Dark Victory, on the other hand, offered Bogart the opportunity to break out of his gangster stereotype, and he delivered with a strong performance indicative of his true range and depth as a performer. The year 1941 proved to be Bogart's breakthrough year, as his recent success brought him to the attention of Raoul Walsh for the acclaimed High Sierra. He was then recruited by first-time director John Huston, who cast him in the adaptation of Dashiell Hammett's The Maltese Falcon; as gumshoe Sam Spade, Bogart enjoyed one of his most legendary roles, achieving true stardom and establishing the archetype for all hardboiled heroes to follow. A year later he accepted a lead in Michael Curtiz's romantic drama Casablanca. The end result was one of the most beloved films in the Hollywood canon, garnering Bogart his first Academy Award nomination as well as an Oscar win in the Best Picture category. Bogart then teamed with director Howard Hawks for his 1944 adaptation of Ernest Hemingway's To Have and Have Not, appearing for the first time opposite actress Lauren Bacall. Their onscreen chemistry was electric, and by the time they reunited two years later in Hawks' masterful film noir The Big Sleep, they had also married in real life. Subsequent pairings in 1947's Dark Passage and 1948's Key Largo cemented the Bogey and Bacall pairing as one of the screen's most legendary romances. His other key relationship remained his frequent collaboration with Huston, who helmed 1948's superb The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. In Huston, Bogart found a director sympathetic to his tough-as-nails persona who was also capable of subverting that image. He often cast the actor against type, to stunning effect; under Huston's sure hand, he won his lone Oscar in 1951's The African Queen.Bogart's other pivotal director of the period was Nicholas Ray, who helmed 1949's Knock on Any Door and 1950's brilliant In a Lonely Place for the star's production company Santana. After reuniting with Huston in 1953's Beat the Devil, Bogart mounted three wildly different back-to-back 1954 efforts -- Joseph L. Mankiewicz's tearful The Barefoot Contessa, Billy Wilder's romantic comedy Sabrina, and Edward Dmytryk's historical drama The Caine Mutiny -- which revealed new, unseen dimensions to his talents. His subsequent work was similarly diffuse, ranging in tone from the grim 1955 thriller The Desperate Hours to the comedy We're No Angels. After completing the 1956 boxing drama The Harder They Fall, Bogart was forced to undergo cancer surgery and died in his sleep on January 14, 1957.