When I hear that the subject of a biography was a person who ”dared passion`s heights … lived at the furthest edges of emotions,” I tend to think of some tormented artist. Vincent Van Gogh? Ernest Hemingway?
I don`t think first of a movie star.
But such breathless, idolatrous words are employed to gild the life and aggrandize the career of movie star Barbara Stanwyck in a clip-filled but terribly flawed biography called ”Barbara Stanwyck: Fire and Desire” (7 p.m. Monday on TNT cable network).
I have always been a great admirer of this actress, so I came to this hourlong program with expectations high. But from the first film clip-an overheated few moments from the 1983 TV mini-series ”The Thorn Birds,” of all inappropriate things-through every word of host Sally Field`s falsely sincere narration, I found the program reverential; so determined to make inflated claims and voice faulty theories that it was incapable of providing anything of value.
We get the sense, and only the sense, that Stanwyck had an important and interesting career and life. Born into poverty as Ruby Stevens in Brooklyn and sent into foster homes as a child, she became a Broadway chorus girl while still in her teens, cultivating the image of a ”keep cool cutie.”
Transported to Hollywood on the besotted coattails of her more famous husband, comic Frank Fay, she was first relegated to film roles that eerily reflected the squalor of her childhood.
It was Frank Capra who recognized and cultivated Stanwyck`s appealingly naturalistic style.
Her career would continue through dozens of films; four Academy Award nominations; great performances in such films as ”Golden Boy,” ”Meet John Doe,” ”Sorry, Wrong Number” and ”Double Indemnity”; marriage to and divorce from handsome star Robert Taylor; and white-haired success on television, most notably as the fiery matriarch on ”The Big Valley” and lastly on the prime-time soap ”The Colbys.”
Amid all the film clips there is not one opinion, assessment or anecdote from former colleagues or knowledgeable observers or critics. The only appraisal of Stanwyck`s life and career comes from film critic Richard Schickel, the program`s producer, writer and director.
Schickel tries, in florid prose that Field delivers as if she were arguing for Stanwyck`s sainthood, to make a case that Stanwyck`s films were a mirror to her personal life. That theory ignores the hand that directors, writers and studio chiefs certainly had in her films.
I came away from this program disappointed not only that I learned so little about her personal life, but also that little light was shed on the nuances of her career. Rather I was overwhelmed by false sentiment. The words I listened to were highfalutin but empty. A forthright woman like Stanwyck would have been disgusted.
”BARBARA STANWYCK: FIRE AND DESIRE”
A Turner Network Television premiere. Produced, written and directed by Richard Schickel; music by Arthur Rubenstein; edited by Peter Wood. Hosted by Sally Field. Airing at 7 p.m. Monday on TNT cable network.
`Biography` 7 p.m. Tuesday, A&E cable
”Joe DiMaggio-The Way It Was” is a solid and occasionally surprising edition of the ”Biography” series.
In a year in which we`ve seen more than ever of the subject-celebrating the 50th anniversary of his famous 56-game hitting streak-we`ve been inundated with images past. But I will bet that you haven`t seen shots of the young Joe with a cigarette poking out of his mouth as he mends his father`s fishing nets or seen his first and last movie appearance, singing a song in a film called
”Manhattan Merry-Go-Round.”
You see such curiosities here and-along with the standard Yankees-Monroe- Mr. Coffee trail-they help form a relatively engaging portrait. DiMaggio appears, to reminisce and reflect. He is, as he has always been, gentlemanly and relatively dull.
Perhaps the most fascinating thing about the show is the strange cast of characters brought in to comment on DiMaggio`s career. Consumer activist Ralph Nader, advertising executive Jerry Della Femina, former Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee, columnist Art Buchwald and composer Marvin Hamlisch all have their say.
Apparently none really know DiMaggio, though Buchwald does embarrass himself with a tale of his reaction to once meeting the great Yankee star, and Hamlisch tells what amounts to a cruel anecdote about an encounter between DiMaggio and a youngster.
Della Femina says that ”DiMaggio was almost too God-like” and informs us-as if anyone cares-that his favorite player was Phil Rizutto.
