Marlene Dietrich and Tyrone Power for Witness for the Prosecution in 1957. It was Powers' last film before he died at only 44 years old.
This arrived in the mail today, just in time for my birthday! Freddie dancing up the walls and on the ceiling in Royal Wedding, 1951.
Clark Gable on his ranch in the San Fernando Valley, undated, I'm estimating mid-50s.
This picture capturing the wonderful rollerskating number Let's Call the Whole Thing Off from Shall We Dance from 1937 showed up in a little antique store in the middle of nowhere in Germany. They had a whole batch of Astaire pictures and I got three of them for the price of one! Yay! A very special find.
I really don't like Leslie Caron, but eh, it's not like I notice her when standing next to Astaire. Gosh, just look at him! He's astairing so hard in this picture.
Fred Astaire for Daddy Long Legs in 1955. I've always loved this picture because I think his gaze is so sexy, and I'm excited to now have it in my collection. That brunette is totally me, by the way, gently holding his hand, sticking my titties out, desperately trying to get his attention. "Hello, I'm over here!", I'm screaming inside. And he just couldn't care less. Oh well.
There's a really special energy about this picture... unfortunately I don't know anything about its history, other than that it was one of those somebody-found-a-bunch-of-old-pictures-in-some-attic situations (in California). That's all. But if you're perceptive you can feel that some pictures have a stronger energy than others when you hold them in your hands, and this one has something so intriguing about it that I often take it out from my folder and look at it. And not because he's so darn beautiful... although he totally is. Damn it, Ronnie, you were a babe. A terrific actor, too, but virtually forgotten these days, although he's appreciated by classic film lovers everywhere.
Two of my favorite actors in one picture: Joan Blondell reading the tarot cards for Tyrone Power in Nightmare Alley in 1947. The future doesn't look too good for him!
It arrived a few days late, but this is what I got myself for Christmas: A gorgeous candid photograph of Carole Lombard and her horse Pico on her ranch in 1937, around the time when she was working on True Confession.
Arthur Kennedy for Rancho Notorious, in which he starred opposite Marlene Dietrich, 1952.
Fred Astaire in his final screen appearance in Ghost Story, 1981.
Director John Huston with a feathered friend on the set of The Night of the Iguana, 1964. I made that mess on the bottom right corner on the day I received this picture, which annoys me to no end. I love when I get these pictures with spots or tears and all kinds of stuff scribbled on the back of them, the more fucked up the better, because it's shit with a history. But my spot there is just shit. Oh well. One day it will be history, too, I guess. Somebody in the future might ask themselves: "I wonder who that disgusting pig was who spilled their lunch all over this picture?" Me. I was that pig.
I just about died when I won this picture at an auction, but then I magically came back to life again. Just look at him! He's the sweetest, and I love when he wears white pants. This is one of a series of shots photographer John Miele took of Astaire playing tennis, around the time when he was shooting Shall We Dance in 1937. The image is in excellent condition, everything is super crisp and sharp, and Fred smells amazing! I really can't stop sniffing on these old pictures, I guess it makes me feel like it brings me closer to the golden days.
Montgomery Clift, Marilyn Monroe and Clark Gable on the difficult set of the The Misfits, an extraordinary film with a unique atmosphere and notable for being the last picture for both Monroe and Gable. Gable died shortly after this photo was taken, and Monroe would follow him a year later. Clift's career had been on the decline since being involved in a car accident that permanently scarred and disfigured his face. So in a sense this film, made in 1960, marks the beginning of the end of the Classic era for me, capturing these once so brightly shimmering stars as they are fading. This is a big reason why this film is so important and so special to me, and I'm very glad I got this picture. What beautiful people they were.
The great John Barrymore in a publicity still for The Invisible Woman in 1940, where he plays a nutty professor who invents a machine to make people disappear. Love his cool pose, and that strand of gray hair.