the tone for much of his later work. Other than the magnifi-
cent Bernard Herrmann, Waxman was
ALFRED HITCHCOCK
’s
favorite composer, writing the scores for four films made by
the “master of suspense,” Rebecca (1940), Suspicion (1941), The
Paradine Case (1948), and Rear Window (1954).
Waxman was prolific, writing more than 50 film scores,
his greatest impact occurring during the
FILM NOIR
period of
the late 1940s and early 1950s. In particular, his music for
such films as The Two Mrs. Carrolls (1947), Possessed (1947),
Dark Passage (1947), The Unsuspected (1947), and Sorry Wrong
Number (1948) helped immeasurably to create the paranoia
that infested these and other films of that era.
Of course, Waxman didn’t write moody music all the
time. Among his lighter efforts were the scores for such films
as the
MARX BROTHERS
’ A Day at the Races (1937), A Christ-
mas Carol (1938), The Philadelphia Story (1940), Woman of the
Year (1942), Air Force (1943), Mister Roberts (1955), Taras
Bulba (1962), and many others. The last film he scored was
Lost Command (1966).
In addition to his work in the movies, Waxman created
and nurtured the Los Angeles Music Festival in 1947, an
institution that has developed an international reputation.
Wayne, John (1907–1979) An actor who became a
folk hero for his portrayal of rugged, independent Americans.
During a career of nearly 50 years, he was the most consis-
tently popular performer in postwar Hollywood, landing in
the top 10 in box-office polls in 19 of 20 years between 1949
and 1968 (he missed the top 10 in 1958 when he bombed in
The Barbarian and the Geisha). As a consequence of his popu-
larity, his films brought in a staggering $800 million in box-
office receipts, which, in constant dollars, remains a record.
Big, broad shouldered, and square jawed, Wayne was an
imposing figure on film, but he also possessed a boyish charm
that hardened into a vulnerable dignity as his face weathered
with age. For the most part, Wayne will be remembered for
the many movies in which he collaborated with one of Hol-
lywood’s greatest directors, John Ford.
He was born Marion Michael Morrison in Winterset,
Iowa, to a druggist father. Ill health caused his father to move
the family to Southern California, where his strapping young
son excelled in both his studies and in sports. It was during
Wayne’s youth that he made regular visits to a local fire-engine
station, accompanied by his pet airedale, Duke, which led to
his nickname of Big Duke, later shortened simply to Duke.
A football scholarship sent Wayne to the University of
Southern California, where he played football for two years
before a shoulder injury, sustained while surfing, ended his
athletic career. While in college, Wayne worked summers at
the Fox Studio prop department, getting the job through a
contact with
TOM MIX
. During 1926, while at Fox, he met
and befriended director John Ford, who occasionally put his
young friend in scenes didn’t require any acting, in several
different movies such as Mother Machree (1928), in which
Wayne made his debut, and Hangman’s House (1928).
In 1929,
RAOUL WALSH
needed a star for his western epic
The Big Trail.
GARY COOPER
was unavailable and filming was
about to begin. Reports are mixed, but either John Ford rec-
ommended Wayne to play the lead in the film or Walsh sim-
ply spotted him on the Fox lot and decided to offer him the
starring role after giving him a screen test. It was for The Big
Trail that Marion Michael Morrison became John Wayne, a
name created in collaboration with Walsh and director
Edmund Goulding. “Wayne” came from General “Mad
Anthony” Wayne of Revolutionary War fame, and “John” was
a solid name that seemed simply to go nicely with “Wayne.”
The new moniker didn’t help The Big Trail, which was a
major commercial flop. Wayne continued to act but in
increasingly minor movies until he settled in, first at the
poverty-row studio Mascot, followed by Monogram, and
then finally Republic, making serials and low-budget action
films, among the latter Riders of Destiny (1933), Randy Rides
Alone (1934), and The Three Mesquiteers (1938). He even took
a stab at being a singing cowboy, playing “Singing Sandy”
Saunders in one western (both his guitar playing and singing
were dubbed). He starred in the neighborhood of 200 of
these quickie oaters and low-grade movies; nobody knows for
sure how many.
For many years, John Ford had promised Wayne that he’d
give him a role in one of his films. After Gary Cooper turned
down the role of the Ringo Kid in Stagecoach (1939), Ford
made good his promise, giving Wayne the break of his career.
Stagecoach was a huge hit, and Wayne suddenly became a star
after having spent a decade in the Hollywood boonies. He
went on to star in 14 films directed by Ford, many of them
some of the director’s greatest works, including She Wore a Yel-
low Ribbon (1949), The Quiet Man (1952), The Searchers (1956),
and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962).
Wayne was often considered a poor actor, but in fact he was
exceptionally good at playing John Wayne, and he played that
character—tough, prideful, and noble—with a considerable
variety of interpretations. He played him young and cocky in
Seven Sinners (1940), old and stubborn in Red River (1948),
independent and proud in Rio Bravo (1958), and vulnerably ide-
alistic in The Three Godfathers (1948). Except for his many west-
erns, which made up nearly half of his movies after Stagecoach,
Wayne was perhaps best known for his patriotic hard-as-nails
image in any number of war films, most notably The Fighting
Seabees (1944), They Were Expendable (1945), Sands of Iwo Jima
(1949), for which he received his first Best Actor Academy
Award nomination, and the Vietnam War–era The Green Berets
(1968), a controversial film that he also produced and directed
to critical catcalls but big box office. Of this latter film, it is
often noted that Wayne filmed the sun setting in the east.
In addition to starring in films, Wayne also produced a
great many movies, first at Republic and later through his
own company, Batjac Productions. Among those films he
produced were Angel and the Badman (1947), The Fighting
Kentuckian (1949), Hondo (1953), The High and the Mighty
(1954), Blood Alley (1955), and The Alamo (1960), which also
marked his debut as a director.
By the late 1960s, Wayne seemed to be an actor in a time
warp. His massive body lumbered through films that seemed
out of step with the rest of Hollywood. He reportedly had to
be lifted by crane to get up in the saddle of his horse. But his
WAYNE, JOHN
452