FILM BRAKE: MR. JONES' TEMPTATIONS

 

Henry Jones (1912-1999) could usually be identified before looking up at the screen by his unique vocal groan-whine nasal delivery—ghrining—when lacking commitment or just ornery. The Philadelphia native was an accomplished actor of stage, film and television but the ordinary-looking 5' 10" Jones was initially a casting challenge—directors not knowing what to do with him. That quickly changed, being cast in more than 180 performances in film and television roles, the latter being where it was most frequently seen.

Jones possessed considerable stage experience—though a sporadic start in 1931. By 1938 he made his Broadway debut in Maurice Evans' Hamlet. Nearly a decade later, between film and television appearances, he gained notice for originating the role of the suspicious handyman, Leroy Jessup, in The Bad Seed, with a flaming end to his character for the 1956 Mervyn LeRoy version. Other theater credits included The Solid Gold Cadillac, with Sunrise at Campobello winning him the Tony Award for Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Play. His last Broadway role was in Advise and Consent in 1960-61.

His wide range of second-string movie roles cast him often as a philanderer, minister, judge, banker or sly mayor. He shined in comedic support roles where his talent for angst or temptation could be put to good use in such outings as Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?, Support Your Local Sheriff (and the sequel) Dirty Dingus Magee or 9 to 5. But it was not all laughs. He often portrayed unscrupulous characters or ones with a dark side. None more so than the methodically cruel coroner in Vertigo (1958). However, Jones was most consistently visible on television where he was in constant demand through the mid-1990s.

Capturing Jones' craft first-hand is perhaps best displayed in five leading roles on Alfred Hitchcock Presents (AHP). Jones was one of Hitchcock's favorites, accounting for his five appearances on the series (above). They best define his acting nuances where temptation gets the best of him, knowing full well it is the wrong thing to do—the very definition of temptation. His first episode, “”De Mortuis” (1956), casts Jones with fishing buddies, Philip Coolidge and a Professor, Robert Emhardt. Any one of which could hold an episode together despite a worn script. But the Professor cannot be found at home though they suspect he will be along shortly. To kill some time, their conversation turns to Emhardt's younger, attractive wife whose reputation for “fooling around” is no secret. In fact, each has stories to tell. Jones is particularly tempted by his encounter with her. A clatter leads them to discover Emhardt was in his basement all along. The fresh cement section about the same length as your average coffin gets them wondering—basement entombment being somewhat a habit for AHP during this period. His second appearance, entitled “Nightmare in 4-D” (1957) is a dark comedy casting Jones as a married man with constant nightmares from reading too much pulp fiction. In reality, he gets wrapped up with a coy Barbara Baxley and her corpse lying on the floor of her apartment. There is plenty of “ghrining” as Jones reluctantly helps remove the “icky” body in the middle of the night simply as a favor. Both performers are amusing. Unfortunately, his straightforwardness becomes his next nightmare. Next has Jones as a master taxidermist in, “The West Warlock Time Capsule” (1957), whose cleverness in removing a cruel freeloader seems to be foolproof. For the futuristic episode, “The Blessington Method” (1959), Jones plays an executive who meets with an "insurance" agent of sorts, with a "Dr. Kevorkian" twist. Jones is appropriately wary yet, once again, tempted. His quintessential character finishes his final episode, “Profit-Sharing Plan” (1962). Temptation raises its head during Jone's office retirement party—with a thankless pen and pencil set for twenty year's service. His unscrupulous plan is thwarted at the last minute in an unanticipated twisted ending. Jones also did one Alfred Hitchcock Hour episode, “The World's Oldest Motive” (1965). Jones plays a philanderer with murder on his mind. An ironic ending ensures.

One would think Jones might have frequented The Twilight Zone, but his single appearance was in the silly 1960 episode, “Mr. Bevis.” Jones—a persuasive guardian angel—rescues the title character, Orson Bean, from his oddball lifestyle as well as Bean's lackadaisical performance. Jones had a regular role on the drama Channing, then three decades of appearances running the gamut from The Man from U.N.C.L.E. to The Mary Tyler Moore Show and its spin-off, Phillis. Jones joined that cast as her cantankerous, droning father-in-law, Judge Jonathan Dexter. His final recurring roles were on Falcon Crest from 1986-87 and in a series without any traction, I Married Dora (1987-88).

FILM BRAKE: A TELEVISION KING

Wright King (Thomas Wright Thornburg King 1923-2018) 

Wright King, not to be confused with other notable kings—King Calder or King Donovan—was an American stage, film and television actor whose career spanned from 1949 until 1978 with an official retirement publicized in 1987. Also of note is King's single 1948 marriage which lasted until his wife's death ten years prior to his. His lengthy career placed him in stage productions on both sides of the Atlantic as well as a prolific supporting actor on numerous television series. Heady stuff for the small-town Oklahoma native. King studied drama at the St. Louis School of Theater, graduating in 1941 before enlisting in the United States Navy, serving in the South Pacific from 1943 to 1945. After being honorably discharged he continued his drama studies in New York at the Actors Studio and the American Theatre Wing. He garnered critical acclaim in the original Broadway production of A Streetcar Named Desire (1947-49). A role he would repeat in the movie version, below.

His screen debut was in the 1949 television series, Captain Video and His Video Rangers for those who had a budget for a television set. He then gained notice in the thirty-nine episode children's fantasy series, Johnny Jupiter, playing Ernest P. Duckweather (1953-54) on the DuMont Network. Few considered to what heights his career would ascend. King made the rounds on popular anthology series of the day but being in the saddle is where one would soon expect to find him. On his second of three episodes on television's Cheyenne, entitled, “Born Bad” (1958), he played the young outlaw, The Pocatello Kid (below) decked out as if the inspiration for Woody of “Toy Story” fame. The versatile actor brought honesty to his roles, sometimes running a bit close to an over-the-top delivery simply to sell his character. His Pocatello Kid was one such role. Another actor might have played down the role, but King leaves no doubt his character is an immature, hot-headed gunslinger.

In 1957, King starred as a falsely accused horse thief saved from one hanging but not his second after killing one of his original hangmen in “Born To Hang” on Gunsmoke. His first of four appearances with Richard Boone in Have Gun Will Travel (1957) was "Helen of Abajinan." King is a delight to watch in this role as an independent young buck refusing to get tied down by any woman. But he is undeniably smitten by Lisa Gaye, the daughter of an Armenian winemaker. His comedic delivery and facial expressions define his character. His most visible role was eleven episodes on the television series Wanted Dead or Alive (1959) playing Jason Nichols, an eager partner to Steve McQueen's Josh Randall. It was an experiment to infuse another angle in the show or give McQueen what he wanted—less time on the set.

But you cannot keep a good King saddled forever. His two appearances on The Twilight Zone are of special note. In "Shadow Play" (1961), he plays a newspaper editor who becomes convinced that a death row inmate's "dreams" may become reality. His final episode is a dandy, ending under the false pretenses that all “Twilight” episodes ended with a twist—hence the most memorable. “Of Late I Think of Cliffordville” (1963, above right) has King, a forty-year janitor, “switching” roles with a wealthy, arrogant Albert Salmi in the end. All arranged by a devil, Julie Newmar. King had a minor role as Senator Richard B. Russell Jr. of Georgia in one of the most captivating television movies of the Twentieth Century, The Missiles of October (1974), a dramatization of the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. King was cast as the District Attorney in the fantasy musical, “Finian's Rainbow” (1968), and notably “unseen” in “Planet of the Apes” (1968) as the chimpanzee veterinarian, Dr. Galen.

CONTRACTIONS: THE SILENT ERA

"FRANKLY, MY DEAR, I DO NOT GIVE A 

THOUGHT TO CONTRACTIONS"

I digress. In every movie I have commented on, not one actor had a problem pronouncing contractions. The apostrophe was recognized as having a reason. It eliminates a letter. That letter is silent because, not surprisingly, it is missing. The contraction was pronounced as it was spelled. They never invented a word to override the apostrophe, which defeats the purpose of a contracted word in the first place. I am not a grammarian. It is as simple as right and wrong. 

"OF ALL THE WORDS IN ALL THE TOWNS IN ALL 

THE WORLD, SHE PRONOUNCES 

CONTRACTIONS LIKE THAT"

Oddly, most contracted words are not mispronounced. The annoying habit typically contains the ending “d” of the first non-contracted word. Two common examples are the words “didn’t” (did not) and “wouldn’t” (would not). They are not pronounced “dident” or “wouldent.” Nowhere is the word “ent” included in the spelling of the contracted word. Jane Greer “dident” say it. Sterling Hayden “wouldent” say it. Claire Trevor “couldent” say it. The fabricated word is common among some young females, but regardless of which sex dominates its usage, this “affliction” only seems to affect those under forty. 

Thankfully, only a portion of Generation X, Millennials, and Generation Y make up the majority of offenders. Logically, we assume they have no idea why an apostrophe is in a contraction or have never seen the word in print. I suspect technology and societal change can be rightfully blamed, given the increase in non-verbal communication. It takes "time" to search for an apostrophe on a smartphone. Just spell it in a letter arrangement of one's choosing. Like, "Your great!" instead of correctly spelling it, "You're great!" Never mind that the meaning changed. Verbally, their point is clear, finding no need for such punctuation. Unintelligible, rapid speech does gloss over contractions.

"WHAT WE'VE GOT HERE IS FAILURE 

OF COMMUNICATION"

When attempting to advise them on the proper pronunciation, their response is similar to a "deer in headlights." I have accepted the combining of two words to make a confusing one, as in “Online,” “Linkedin” or “Login.” One can imagine the time I have saved by doing this. Using a global mindset, many younger generations often hear certain foreign residents mispronounce contractions when attempting to use English. This is excusable. It is not their native language. The lack of educational discipline has to share the blame, or maybe a parent with the same anomaly. These offenders have not been taught how to correctly pronounce certain common contractions at an early age. Teachers will no longer correct a student's “preference” for mispronouncing a word, fearing a lawsuit or defamation of character.  

I suspect this speech malady will not correct itself. One generation will screw it up for the next one.  Abandoning the contraction altogether would solve these grating, airhead errors, but I suspect mispronunciation may be due to one fact. It is physically easier. One needs the innate ability to place the tip of the tongue behind the front teeth, near the roof of the mouth, for that apostrophe. “That’s hard, dude. You can't make me do that!”

Note: One lame excuse would be to blame the sometimes illogical American way of spelling. To illustrate, the “t” in “often” is silent, and preferred as is the second “d” in “hidden.” It is never two words, “hid den.” Though there is nothing odd about the spelling of "important," the curse of the "Ds" continues. One cannot replace the first "t" or the "a" in the word with a "d" and an "e." This is very "impordent."