GFF 2010: That Old Charmer

Who doesn’t love Cary Grant? With his ever-so-slightly off-kilter accent (parodied so wonderfully by Tony Curtis in Some Like It Hot), his uncanny ability to look smoulderingly sexy in a suit while hanging precariously off Mount Rushmore, and all round suaveness, it’s no wonder that for over thirty years, the whole world fell hopelessly in love with the man formerly known as Archibald Alexander Leach, and continues to proffer that love to this very day.

It should also come as no surprise that Ian Fleming had Grant partly in mind when creating the character of super spy James Bond, or that Alfred Hitchcock – notorious in his dislike of actors – was quoted as saying that Grant was “the only actor I ever loved in my whole life.” But, despite spending the best part of his life being adored by millions, his childhood was noticeably different.

From his humble beginnings – an only child, he grew up in a relatively unhappy household in the not so dizzy heights of Horfield, Bristol – Grant spent his early teenage years being expelled from school, before joining a UK stage troupe, aged 14, as a stilt walker. When, at the tender age of 16, the troupe traveled oversees to the States for what was meant to be a short visit, Grant found the place he was to spend the next 60-odd years of his life, with half of that time spent commandeering a film career that few others have yet to come anywhere close to.

Grant slowly perfected his craft over the next decade, cutting his teeth in several light Broadway shows, before making the move to the bright lights and hedonistic allure of Hollywood in 1931. Having by now changed his name to the slightly more appealing Cary Lockwood (in homage to a character he had portrayed on stage) he was soon forced by Paramount Pictures to make further changes. This time he chose Grant and, in the process, a star was born.

After a slew of box-office hits (his name drew cinema-goers by the bucket load for several decades) Grant was the first actor to buck the industry trend by choosing to go independent, thus being in sole control of his career. A worthy move of someone of his calibre, and one which paved the way for the actors of today, it undoubtedly cost him any chance of an Oscar, with the exception of the Lifetime Achievement Award he received in 1970, which we all know is a poor way of lauding someone’s highly impressive career.

Given the nonchalant, slightly arrogant air associated with most of Grant’s characters, it’s sometimes easy to forget what a versatile and broad actor he was, turning his hand with ease to more serious ventures such as Suspicion, Notorious, and, lest we forget, North by Northwest - all classic Hitchcock, and all delivered without the merest of nods towards his more naturally comedic persona.  But it is for these comedy roles that he will be remembered and revered for most of all – and rightly so.

Overshadowed by later, bigger hits is Topper, Grant’s first box-office coup, and one which should be watched by any fan of his work. The story is a simple one – a young couple are haunted by a newly dead couple who had previously lived in the house – and Grant’s charm and wit is evident even at this early stage in his screen career.

Perhaps one of his finest roles, and probably one of the best comic films of the last 80 years, Bringing Up Baby saw Grant team up with Katherine Hepburn in the first of several successful outings. Playing the awkward palaeontologist to Hepburn’s dizzy socialite, the film was a complete and utter failure upon its initial release.  Instead it steadily garnered a positive reputation over the years, with many critics now widely regarding it as a classic piece, decades ahead of its time.

Next came roles in His Girl Friday (as a career hungry journalist out to get the story and, of course, the girl) and Arsenic and Old Lace – a macabre but laugh out loud yarn involving a host of seriously dysfunctional family members and some not-so-natural deaths.

In 1940 came The Philadelphia Story, a movie which firmly cemented Grant’s stature as leading man material. The story centres around a divorced couple (Grant and Hepburn) who – through a series of planned mishaps on Grants part – are reunited before Hepburn’s impending second marriage. Also starring in the movie is an on-form James Stewart who earned himself a Best Actor gong for his portrayal of tabloid hack Mike.

Unlike several movie legends of recent years who should be tucked up in nursing homes instead of churning out turgid movie after movie (take note De Niro) Grant opted for retirement from the screen in 1966, passing away almost 20 years later, taking with him a piece of Hollywood that has long since faded away.

Now? Well, we have to make do with easily forgettable actors whose main draw is that they look, for lack of a better word, ‘hot’, a term that could never - would never - be used to describe the divine, the delectable, the debonair Mr Grant. We continue to idolise these identikit, pre-pubescent, actors, all the while forgetting what real Hollywood is, or indeed, was. Can you imagine Zac Efron being able to hide from a secret government organization, clear his name, romance Eva Marie Saint and all the while keep his suits looking brand new? I didn’t think so.

And while part of me aches for the return of the glitz and glamour of an era long gone, the other part of me treasures the fact that Cary Grant, and other actors like him, will forever remain just that: much sought-after, much missed stars of the silver screen.

In a story that just about sums up Grant, upon supposedly receiving a telegram from a magazine editor in 1962 asking "HOW OLD CARY GRANT?", Grant was reported to have responded with "OLD CARY GRANT FINE. HOW YOU?". He may have lived to a ripe old age, but fine? Never fine. Cary Grant was always so much more.