Showing posts with label tyrone power. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tyrone power. Show all posts

Friday, October 9, 2015

Book Review: The Star Machine, by Jeanine Basinger (2007)


Tyrone Power and Loretta Young on the cover of The Star Machine, by Jeanine Basinger, 2007.

Film critic and author Jeanine Basinger.

Deanna Durbin, Universal's big star of the late 1930's and early 1940's, and one of Basinger's favorite movie stars.

Ann Sheridan, "the oomph girl."
Film historian Jeanine Basinger’s 2007 book The Star Machine is a thorough examination of how the studio system operated during Hollywood’s Golden Age. Basinger is the chair of film studies at Wesleyan University, and it’s very clear that movies have been a life-long passion for her. The Star Machine is 550 pages of details about film stars and movies that might not be familiar to modern audiences. 

The Star Machine’s biggest strength is also its biggest problem: Basinger is a huge fan. And while that means that she’s actually taken the time to watch all of these obscure movies, it sometimes gets in the way of her writing. Sometimes her writing just gets too fan girly, like when she’s gushing (repeatedly) about how good-looking Tyrone Power was: “Power was beautiful. Not handsome. Beautiful. Solid, substantial, and with great masculine dignity, but with the kind of physical looks that can only be labeled ‘beautiful.’” (p.143) Basinger thinks that Tyrone Power was the best-looking man ever, and, tellingly, the section in the index with the most entries for Power is "physical beauty of." Basinger also is driven to hyperbole when writing about Deanna Durbin, a very popular child star of the 1930’s and 1940’s. When summing up Durbin’s career, Basinger writes, “No matter how many imitators Hollywood might develop, there was only one Deanna Durbin, and there will never be another one.” (p.294) I’ll admit I might be guilty of these same crimes in my writing, as when on occasion I might be overly effusive when describing the attractiveness of my favorite actresses, like Kim Novak or Natalie Wood. And there’s nothing wrong with being a big fan of someone and showing it, I just think there’s perhaps more of it in this book than is necessary.

The most interesting part of The Star Machine is the beginning, as Basinger tells us how the studios discovered future stars, groomed them, and tried to find suitable roles for them. It’s a fascinating look behind the scenes of the powerful studios. Basinger is an insightful critic who is able to easily explain the appeal that these movie stars had. That being said, her criticism is mainly about the movie stars themselves. She does not dive deeply into the technical side of filmmaking, as she is more interested in the effect that these movie stars have on us in the audience. 

In the middle section of the book Basinger details the careers of several movie stars. Rather than focusing on huge legends like Cary Grant, John Wayne, and Katherine Hepburn, she writes about the careers of actors like Irene Dunne, Loretta Young, William Powell and other stars of the 1930’s and 1940’s. I think that Basinger’s point is that stars like Grant, Wayne, and Hepburn have been thoroughly analyzed elsewhere, and she wants to shed light on some stars who aren’t as well known today. I understand that, but I think it might also have been instructive to profile some huge stars like Gary Cooper and Joan Crawford to see how they succeeded in Hollywood for so long. 

The Star Machine is saddled with an awkward conclusion, “Stardom without the Machine” that is a shallow look at current movie stars, and really doesn’t add anything to the book.

One gripe I have about The Star Machine is that I’m a little annoyed at how few sources Basinger cites. Her bibliography is just three pages long. For a 550 page non-fiction book! She also doesn’t cite quotations. It really puzzles me as to why Basinger’s publisher didn’t make her do this. When Alice Faye said of Tyrone Power, “Ty was the victim of the Hollywood system that grinds actors and actresses down, makes them give their blood and their souls to the movies” as she’s quoted as saying on page 179 of The Star Machine, when did she say it? To whom did she say it? I have no idea, because Basinger does not cite the source for this quote. It drives me batty that her publisher let her get away with this. If I’m reading a non-fiction book, I want to know where the author is getting their information from. The ultimate goal behind citing a source for a quotation is so the reader could theoretically find that same quote, so they know that the author got it right. I believe that Basinger has done the research and that she knows her stuff, I just want her to show her work.  

If you want to learn about Hollywood during the studio system, The Star Machine is a great reference. But you really need to be a fan of pre-World War II Hollywood, as Basinger doesn’t cover the career of anyone who started making movies after 1940. If you still remember Ann Sheridan, then this is the book for you. You know, Ann Sheridan, “the oomph girl,” star of The Footloose Heiress, She Loved a Fireman, and Appointment in Honduras. You remember her, right? Good, I’m glad I’m not the only one.

Monday, September 7, 2015

Movie Review: Tyrone Power in Lloyd's of London (1936)


Original poster for Lloyd's of London, 1936. No one told the publicity department that the title should have an apostrophe. Also, no one told the artist what Tyrone Power looked like, since the guy in the middle looks nothing like him.


George Sanders, Madeleine Carroll, and Tyrone Power in Lloyd's of London, 1936. Sanders is excellent playing the cad.

The impossibly handsome Tyrone Power, eyebrows fully plucked, in Lloyd's of London, 1936.
Insurance! Just the word itself brings about thoughts of action, adventure, and romance. Well, not really. But someone at 20th Century Fox must have thought so, because that’s the only explanation for the odd 1936 movie Lloyd’s of London, which attempts to glamorize the British insurance industry of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. (Does the title have an apostrophe? It should, because the company does, and the title card of the movie has one, but all of the original print ads omit the apostrophe.) Lloyd’s of London was the first starring role for Tyrone Power, and it launched him on a highly successful career, as he became one of the most popular leading men for the next twenty years, until his early death from a heart attack at age 44 in 1958. I wrote a short article last year about Power’s life and career, and I’ve also reviewed his 1956 movie The Eddy Duchin Story.

There were many actors in Tyrone Power’s ancestry, and his father, also named Tyrone Power, was a successful stage actor who also acted in many silent films and a few talkies. The elder Power grew closer to his son in the last year of his life, and he encouraged young Tyrone to pursue an acting career. Tragically, the elder Power died of a heart attack in his son’s arms in December, 1931.
Although Tyrone Power was technically named Tyrone Power Junior, he was only billed that way for his first few movies, and Lloyd’s of London was the first time he was billed as simply Tyrone Power.

1936 was a pivotal year in Tyrone Power’s career. At the beginning of the year he had just two bit parts to his credit when he was cast as a newspaper reporter in Sing, Baby, Sing, starring Alice Faye. But director Sidney Lanfield didn’t think Power was right for the part and replaced him with Michael Whalen. Power’s career wasn’t looking too promising at that point. However, Power was able to land a very small role in the 1936 movie Girls’ Dormitory. Power only appeared in one scene of the movie, and he was on screen for less than thirty seconds. (It’s often written that he only had one line of dialogue, but that’s not true, he actually has two lines and says four sentences.) In that brief amount of screen time, Tyrone Power made a huge impression on audiences. Power was only 22 years old in 1936, but he was already a strikingly handsome man with thick dark hair, lively brown eyes, chiseled features, high cheekbones, dramatically arched eyebrows, and a winning smile. When audiences got their brief glimpse of him in Girls’ Dormitory, they wanted to know who this handsome man was, and they flooded 20th Century Fox with fan mail asking about Power. 

Power was given a larger part in his next movie, Ladies in Love, although it isn’t clear if the positive feedback from Girls’ Dormitory was the reason. Ladies in Love was filmed “in the early summer of 1936,” according to Hector Arce’s biography, The Secret Life of Tyrone Power. (p.79) But according to IMDB.com, Wikipedia, and Fred Lawrence Guiles’ biography Tyrone Power: The Last Idol, Girls’ Dormitory wasn’t released until August of 1936. If this was the case, the audience’s reaction to Power in Girls’ Dormitory couldn’t have influenced the casting of Ladies in Love, since Ladies in Love would have already been in production by the time Girls’ Dormitory was released. The only way this would be possible is if there were early previews of Girls’ Dormitory in April or May. The other possibility is that the release date of August for Girls’ Dormitory is simply wrong. Film historian Jeanine Basinger, in her book The Star Machine, calls Girls’ Dormitory “an early-1936 release.” (p.145) That seems more likely, and it would fit the timeline better. If Girls’ Dormitory was released in March or April, there would have been a chance for the buzz surrounding Power to build, leading to his casting in Ladies in Love in May or June. But regardless of the release date of Girls’ Dormitory, audiences were clearly paying attention to Tyrone Power.

Sometime in the summer of 1936, as director Henry King was making costume tests for Lloyd’s of London, Tyrone Power visited his office. King had worked with Power’s father on the 1923 film Fury, but he did not know the younger Power. Impressed by Power’s confidence and presence, King persuaded studio head Darryl F. Zanuck to allow him to test Power for the lead role in Lloyd’s of London, even though he had just tested Don Ameche for the same part. Zanuck agreed, and King filmed a screen test with Power. When Power’s test was screened for Zanuck and other executives, all of the executives said they liked Ameche better. But Zanuck asked King who he preferred in the role. King said he liked Power better than Ameche, and when Zanuck asked him why, King responded: “Because this boy is younger. He’s better looking. He handles himself better. I can do more with him. The most important thing is that this studio is short of talent. In two years this boy could be the biggest young leading man in the motion picture industry, and God knows we need stars here instead of borrowing them from somebody else.” Zanuck said, “All right, put him in the picture before I change my mind.” (The Secret Life of Tyrone Power, p.83. Tyrone Power: The Last Idol tells the same story of Power’s screen test, with slightly different dialogue.) Of course, Henry King was right, and within two years Tyrone Power was indeed one of the most successful young actors in Hollywood, largely due to his roles in King’s films. King directed Power in 11 movies.

Suddenly, Tyrone Power had his first leading role, in a big budget movie that the studio was sparing no expense on. Loretta Young had originally been cast as the female lead, but she dropped out when Ameche was replaced with Power, and her role was filled by Madeleine Carroll, fresh off her appearance in Alfred Hitchcock’s classic The Thirty-Nine Steps. Partway through filming, Darryl F. Zanuck told Henry King, “Henry, I’ve been watching the rushes. This boy is doing great…Take all the time you need with that boy because if you can keep him all the way through the picture as he is up to now, he’ll be a star.” (Tyrone Power: The Last Idol, p.9. The Secret Life of Tyrone Power tells the same story, again with slightly different dialogue-I suspect both authors interviewed Henry King.) 

The plot of Lloyd’s of London revolves around Power’s character, Johnathan Blake, a fictional character who starts working for the insurance company at a young age and works his way up through the ranks. When the movie starts, we see a young Johnathan, age 12 or so, overhearing sailors talk about how a ship will be deliberately sunk in order to collect the insurance money. So Johnathan and his best friend Horatio Nelson, the future Lord Nelson, sneak aboard the ship and overhear more of the nefarious insurance fraud scheme. Johnathan does what any 12 year old boy would do and exclaims, “We must tell Lloyd’s of London!” How Johnathan, living 100 miles outside of London, knows about Lloyd’s of London is never made clear. But Jonathan arrives in London, and because he delivered important information about this attempt at insurance fraud, he starts working at Lloyd’s. (Johnathan is an orphan, so there are no parents around to object to this child labor.) As a young boy, Johnathan is played by Freddie Bartholomew, who was a very successful child star in the mid to late 1930’s. Seen today, this prologue with Bartholomew seems overly long, and I wonder if this was an attempt by the studio to lessen the weight on Power’s untested shoulders by casting a more established actor as the younger Johnathan.

Eventually Tyrone Power makes his entrance and the story leap frogs forward at odd intervals of time, as suddenly Napoleon is in power, and Johnathan is spying in France by pretending to be a priest. In the process he saves Lady Elizabeth Stacy (Madeleine Carroll) from a lascivious soldier, and they make it back to England. As the Wikipedia page for the movie points out, the timeline of the movie is not accurate. Johnathan falls in love with Lady Elizabeth, but she is unfortunately married to the pompous cad Lord Everett Stacy, played by the pompous cad George Sanders, perfectly cast in his first Hollywood movie. Johnathan keeps pining away for Lady Elizabeth, and the script keeps name dropping Johnathan’s boyhood friend Horatio Nelson, although the two never meet again. (They just miss each other at one of Lady Elizabeth’s parties.) The movie ends with Johnathan watching Lord Nelson’s funeral procession, and we get an unnecessary flashback to the last time they saw each other, when they were 12. 

In his 1979 biography of Power, Victor Arce writes, “Seen today, it’s not clear how Lloyds of London, a dreary historical epic ranging from 1770 to 1805, could make a star out of anybody.” (The Secret Life of Tyrone Power, p.85) I agree. It’s even more unclear in 2015. It’s very surprising that Lloyd’s of London was a Hollywood movie and not a British film, as the film seems to be little more than rah-rah boosterism for a giant insurance company, and for the naval glory of the British Empire. The film’s ridiculous name dropping of Lord Nelson gets tiring as well. The only action in the movie happens to Lord Nelson and that all happens off screen. Horatio becomes a sailor, while Johnathan is the boring one who went into insurance. 

Tyrone Power does as good a job as he can with his first leading role. He’s let down by the material, and he’s good, but not yet great. His best scenes are the ones where he’s pretending to be a French priest, and where he’s rowing a boat across the English Channel with Madeleine Carroll. Power seems most natural during those scenes, and they offer us a glimpse of the dashing action hero that he would become. Power looks super handsome in Lloyd’s of London, but too often he’s just too made up. Power’s dramatic eyebrows were heavily plucked for Lloyd’s of London, which gives him a more effeminate look. Power was lucky his eyebrows grew back. Lana Turner had to shave her eyebrows for a tiny role in The Adventures of Marco Polo in 1938 and they never grew back! However, Power’s on screen charm is fully formed. Power is one of those actors that you just like right away, and his youthful enthusiasm serves the movie well. 

Lloyd’s of London premiered in New York City in November, 1936, and went into wide release across the country in January, 1937. It was a big hit at the box office, although the critics were lukewarm about it. Variety magazine said of Power in Lloyd’s of London, “He’s okay. He’s going places. He has looks and he has acting ability. The women ought to go for him in a big way.” (The Secret Life of Tyrone Power, p.88) Well, Variety hit the nail on the head there. Lloyd’s of London is an interesting movie, not because it’s a good movie, but because it’s the movie that launched Tyrone Power to stardom.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Movie Review: The Eddy Duchin Story, starring Tyrone Power and Kim Novak (1956)



Tyrone Power and Kim Novak in one of the first scenes of The Eddy Duchin Story, 1956. He looks like he's just out of college, right? Also, Tyrone Power had the most dramatically arched eyebrows this side of Sean Connery.


You can't tell from this sexy publicity still that Tyrone Power didn't like Kim Novak. Sadly, there's no scene like this in the movie.

Tyrone Power is flanked by his two wives in The Eddy Duchin Story. That's Victoria Shaw as Chiquita on the left, and Kim Novak as Marjorie on the right.

The impossibly handsome Tyrone Power as the pianist Eddy Duchin.

The real Eddy Duchin, who was quite handsome himself.
In the 1950’s there were a number of biopics made about the lives of famous musicians. The Glenn Miller Story, starring Jimmy Stewart, kicked off the trend in 1954. The Benny Goodman Story and The Eddy Duchin Story followed in 1956, and 1959 saw the release of The Gene Krupa Story, with Sal Mineo as the jazz drummer. (Why didn’t someone make the Rudy Vallee Story?) I’m not sure why the genre of “bandleader biopics” suddenly became hot in the mid-1950’s. Perhaps it was nostalgia for the big band sounds that were rapidly becoming a thing of the past. By the time these movies were released even big stars like Duke Ellington and Count Basie were having trouble keeping their big bands on the road. 

The Eddy Duchin Story, starring Tyrone Power and Kim Novak, was released in 1956 and was a big hit, becoming the 12th highest grossing movie of that year. Eddy Duchin was a pianist and bandleader who had a very successful career in the 1930’s and 1940’s before tragically dying of leukemia in 1951 at the age of 41. Duchin was kind of a straight Liberace, a talented pianist who made ladies swoon while playing showy versions of light classical and jazz pieces. The Eddy Duchin Story is a melodramatic film that is also quite entertaining. Much of the film’s success rests on the charm and charisma of leading man Tyrone Power, who delivers an excellent performance. 

The movie begins with Duchin arriving in New York City in 1927 to play at the Central Park Casino. (The Central Park Casino was torn down in the 1930’s, and Tavern on the Green was used for filming.) Duchin is fresh off the bus from Boston, full of vigor and verve, until he discovers that the bandleader he thought had offered him a job was just being nice to him when he said, “If you’re ever in New York City, come say hi.” Oops. But all is not lost as society sweetheart Marjorie Oelrichs (Kim Novak) hears him playing and persuades the bandleader to hire Duchin. Of course, he becomes a big hit. Tyrone Power was really too old to play Duchin in these scenes, and he looks like the world’s oldest fraternity pledge. But Power makes up for it by projecting the youthful enthusiasm of a recent college graduate. Duchin and Marjorie soon fall in love and get married. Everything seems to be going great for Duchin. As we were watching the movie, my wife and I kept wondering what the conflict would be. Maybe her aunt and uncle won’t approve of her marriage to a piano player? Nope. Is he an alcoholic? Nope. Does he cheat on her? Nope. But then once they get married we learn Marjorie’s horrible secret: she’s afraid of the wind! Oh no! How can Eddy Duchin protect her from the wind? I’m not even joking about this, she’s afraid of the wind. It’s a good thing they don’t live in Chicago.

Marjorie gets pregnant, and then dies shortly after delivering a son, Peter. Bizarrely enough, the doctor specifically tells Eddy that her sudden, unexplained death has nothing to do with her childbirth. (The wind didn’t have anything to do with her death either.) The film is really weird about Marjorie and Eddy’s deaths. The film has both Marjorie and Eddy dying of weird unexplained illnesses. In real life Marjorie’s death was obviously connected to complications from her delivery, even though she didn’t die in childbirth. When Eddy suddenly gets ill at the end of the movie, doctors tell him that he will die soon, but it’s never stated that he has leukemia. The real-life Eddy Duchin knew he had leukemia. I don’t know why the film is so squeamish about this. But that’s getting ahead of the story. When Marjorie dies, Eddy doesn’t want anything to do with his son, letting Marjorie’s aunt and uncle bring him up. 

Interesting side note: in real life Peter Duchin wasn’t raised by his great aunt and uncle, but by family friend W. Averell Harriman and his wife. W. Averell Harriman was just your average guy who was fabulously wealthy, was the U.S. Ambassador to the Soviet Union during World War II, served as Secretary of Commerce under Harry Truman, ran unsuccessfully for the Democratic nomination for President in 1952 and 1956, and was Governor of New York for one term. You know, not someone who would be an interesting character to have in a movie. So why does the screenplay write Harriman out and change who raised Peter? My guess is that the studio didn’t want to be accused of playing politics by portraying a very active political figure as a character in a movie. At the time The Eddy Duchin Story was filmed in 1955, Harriman was Governor of New York, and about to run for President the next year. Including Harriman as a character in the movie would be a bit like making a movie now where Jeb Bush was a supporting character. 

After serving in World War II, Eddy comes back to New York and starts to build his relationship with Peter. Peter is being raised by not-Averell Harriman and not-Averell Harriman’s wife and by family friend Chiquita. No, she’s not Carmen Miranda. Chiquita is a young woman in her 20’s who basically acts as Peter’s governess. Peter has developed a talent for playing the piano, and this becomes a bond between father and son. Eventually Eddy and the ridiculously named Chiquita marry, and then Eddy gets sick from his mystery illness and dies. 

Tyrone Power spent 11 weeks learning how to make it look like he was actually playing the piano, and I was very impressed with his dedication. The movie doesn’t make use of trick shots where you only see someone’s hands on the keyboard. Power’s hard work paid off, as in almost all of the camera shots during the songs you see Power’s face, hands and the piano keyboard at the same time. Power was a friend of Eddy Duchin’s, and he said in an interview during filming, “The real tragedy of Duchin’s life was his dying at such a young age, only forty-two. I knew Eddy quite well. Working right here across from the hospital reminds me of how I used to visit him over there when he was a patient, toward the end.” (The Secret Life of Tyrone Power, by Hector Arce, p.258) Sadly, Tyrone Power would also die young, of a heart attack at age 44. Because Tyrone Power was one of the most impossibly handsome leading men of Hollywood’s Golden Age, I think it’s a law that all reviews of his movies have to make some comment about his looks. Here is mine: Power looks as handsome as ever in The Eddy Duchin Story, whether he’s wearing a tuxedo or a snazzy sweater. Power uses all of his movie star charm and charisma playing Eddy Duchin, and he makes the movie fun to watch. I examined Power's career in more detail in a post from last year.

I’m on record as saying that Kim Novak is one of my favorite actresses, as well as one of the most beautiful and sexy women on the planet, but she doesn’t do much in The Eddy Duchin Story. I wonder if Novak pissed off the director of photography, because she doesn’t look as beautiful as usual. Her wardrobe is pretty drab and boring. Tyrone Power did not get along with Novak during filming. All he said about her was “Confusion between temperament and bad manners is unfortunate.” (Arce, p.259) Ouch. 

The Eddy Duchin Story is an enjoyable example of a big budget studio movie from the 1950’s. It may seem a little dated now, but it’s still quite good. The film was expertly directed by George Sidney, who helmed many big musicals of the 1940’s, 50’s, and 60’s like Anchors Aweigh, the first screen pairing of Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly, Annie Get Your Gun, Show Boat, Kiss Me, Kate, Pal Joey, Bye Bye Birdie, and Viva Las Vegas. The Eddy Duchin Story also features lots of gorgeous location shots around Central Park and New York City, which makes it a visual treat. 

Eddy Duchin’s son Peter went on to become a successful pianist and bandleader of his own. He still performs in and around New York City.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Tyrone Power, Forgotten Movie Star



Tyrone Power, 1914-1958.


Tyrone Power at the beginning of his movie career, mid 1930's.

Charles Laughton and Tyrone Power in Witness for the Prosecution, 1957.
Billy Wilder’s 1957 film Witness for the Prosecution, based on the play by Agatha Christie, was the last movie the popular matinee idol Tyrone Power completed before his death the following year. Witness for the Prosecution starred Power as a man on trial for murder, Charles Laughton as his defense attorney, and Marlene Dietrich as his wife. It’s an interesting movie, with especially good performances from Laughton and Power. Laughton plays Sir Wilfred Robarts, a defense attorney who is recovering from a heart attack, and his nurse Miss Plimsoll, (played by Laughton’s real-life wife Elsa Lanchester) is eager for Sir Wilfred to not take any new cases that might cause him to overexert himself. Then in walks Leonard Vole (Power) a man who is about to be arrested for the murder of an older widow who recently changed her will to make Vole the beneficiary of her estate. Vole protests his innocence, and Sir Wilfred, highly intrigued, agrees to take the case. Power is very effective because the actor playing Leonard Vole needs to be sympathetic and likable, and Power was both of those things. Since the end of the movie expressly told me not to reveal all of the surprises of the plot, I won’t say anything more about what happens. No spoiler alerts for 57 year old movies here!

I’m using Witness for the Prosecution as an excuse to write a short piece about Tyrone Power’s film career. I don’t claim to be an expert on Power’s career, as I’ve only seen three of his movies: Witness for the Prosecution, The Black Swan, and the excellent film noir Nightmare Alley. Power had an interesting, and highly successful, career. He was an extremely popular movie star for more than 20 years, from the mid 1930’s until his untimely death from a heart attack at the age of 44 in 1958.
Power was under contract to 20th Century Fox for the majority of his career. Power’s striking good looks assured him of a substantial female fan base, and he quickly became one of the most popular matinee idols of the late 1930’s and early 1940’s. Power was an amazingly handsome man who won the genetic lottery big time with his thick dark hair, lively eyes, chiseled features, high cheekbones, dramatically arched eyebrows, and winning smile. Power acted in a great variety of movies, and he found success in many different film genres, including period dramas, light comedies, westerns, war movies, and swashbuckling action films. 

Although Power was an extremely popular movie star for a long time, I would wager that few people under the age of 50 today know who he was. Power’s long filmography is unfortunately not terribly distinguished. His movies, for whatever reason, have not made it into the canon of “great movies.” Power never won an Oscar. Indeed, he was never even nominated for an Oscar. He doesn’t have one signature performance that every movie fan has seen.

Power’s career is similar to that of his swashbuckling contemporary, Errol Flynn. Flynn was also a highly popular actor who might not be that well known today, but his turn as Robin Hood in 1938’s The Adventures of Robin Hood has entered the canon of “great movies” and probably remains his most well-known performance. Another actor who was similar to Power and Flynn was Robert Taylor-who was to MGM what Power was to 20th Century Fox-namely, their handsome leading man who could also handle action films. Like Power, neither Flynn nor Taylor were ever nominated for an Oscar. 

Despite not receiving a lot of acclaim for his acting skills, Power actually was a fine film actor, and his performance in the gritty 1947 film noir Nightmare Alley is excellent. Unfortunately, because it was such a departure from his usual screen image, Nightmare Alley was not heavily promoted by Fox and flopped at the box office. Power had worked very hard to get Nightmare Alley made, and it was no doubt a great disappointment to him that Fox didn’t promote it whole-heartedly. It was difficult for Power to find roles that didn’t rely only on his good looks. During the 1950’s Power became more dissatisfied with the kind of movies he was offered, so he acted in plays more and more frequently.
Director Billy Wilder had extremely high praise for Power’s work in Witness for the Prosecution. He said of Power:

“He was one of those rare occurrences in Hollywood, he was an absolutely totally gentleman….He was excellent and professional and prepared and intelligent…totally impeccable in his professional life…The picture we did together was one of the few joys of my professional life.” (The Secret Life of Tyrone Power, by Hector Arce, p.269) 

In his personal life, Power was an excellent pilot, a skill that served him well during his World War II service in the Marines. Power flew missions carrying wounded troops out of Iwo Jima and Okinawa during 1945. Like many men of his generation, Power never bragged about his military service, but he was proud of it. After World War II ended, Power dated Lana Turner. According to Turner’s daughter Cheryl, Power was the love of Turner’s life. Unfortunately, they never married and split up. I think it’s unfortunate they didn’t have any kids together, because those children would have been amazingly good looking. 

The film critic Jeanine Basinger is a huge Tyrone Power fan, and she has a full chapter about Power’s life and career in her 2007 history of the Hollywood studio system, The Star Machine. Basinger thinks that Power was the best-looking man ever, and, tellingly, the section in the index with the most entries for Power is “physical beauty of.” Actress Alice Faye, who co-starred with Power in three movies, said of him, “All my life, I was asked what it was like to kiss Tyrone Power.” 

Tyrone Power would have turned 100 in May 2014. His good looks and charisma still jump off the screen, and he’s a movie star who should be better remembered today.