I Love the Illusion: The Life and Career of Agnes Moorehead (45 page)

“popping” in), when Endora pointedly asks her son-in-law, “Why are you
trying to make my daughter something she is not?” In other words, “why
can’t you accept Samantha the way she is?”

Lastly,
Bewitched
works because it is a supernatural comedy. Usually
Samantha has to use the powers which Darrin has forbidden that she use
(even sometimes at his prodding) to save the day. Bill Asher explains that
the use of her powers is a device which would be used usually at critical
moments. “The audience is waiting for that twitch (Samantha’s nose and
upper lip would twitch when she executed her magic), but we never throw
it in merely because it looks cute. We save it until Samantha is so sorely
tempted to use her witchery that she can’t resist — and that’s the point
where the audience is usually saying, ‘Do Something!’”

The cast got along. Agnes liked Elizabeth, but sometimes her comments
could be a tad tart when she referred to the young star of the show. For
instance, in a 1965
TV Guide
cover story Agnes seems slightly dismissive of
Elizabeth. “She has quality, charm, warmth, intelligence. Of course, you
know she plays herself. When I was an ingénue, we were always characterizing.”
Quint Benedetti, who worked as the road manager for Agnes’ one-woman
shows, maintains that Agnes told him that “she liked Elizabeth but wasn’t
enthralled by her talent. She often mentioned that it might take Elizabeth
up to 6 or 7 takes to get a scene right — where Agnes was prepared and
ready on take one — it exasperated her.” But
Bewitched
historian Herbie J
Pilato believes there was “mutual respect between two highly respected
actresses.” Pilato interviewed Elizabeth for his book
Bewitched Forever
and
Montgomery recalled to him, with pleasure, a time when Agnes called her
over after she had completed a scene to tell her how proud she was of her.
But Pilato does concede that there may have been “a slight professional
competition between the two,” such as when Agnes was nominated, along
with Elizabeth, for an Emmy in the Best Actress in a Comedy Series category.
According to Pilato, Agnes “was never crazy about Serena (the brunette
cousin of Samantha that Montgomery also played) in the series, because her
character was so similar to Endora — especially earlier on when Elizabeth
played Serena with a deeper, more arrogant persona as opposed to the kookier,
hippy-type that Serena evolved into, later in the series.”

Montgomery, for her part, went out of her way to make Agnes feel at
home on the
Bewitched
set. She would often send her sweet notes and flowers
at the beginning of each season. She would send gag items from newspapers
such as a cartoon of an older witch flying on a broom wearing a bikini over

Miami Beach and write, “Mom over Miami.” She always remembered her
birthday and sent her cards every Christmas; one of the best and creative
was a Montgomery Christmas card which she drew herself, from 1964,
showing a caricature of herself and husband Bill Asher (with only a few
strands of hair on his head) and their new baby Billy (with even less hair)
and their cat and dog. It was an enchanting card. The Ashers also became
perennial guests at Agnes’ well-attended birthday/Christmas parties during
the run of the show.

Both Elizabeth and Agnes won awards from
TV-Radio Mirror Magazine,
and Agnes flew to New York City to accept on behalf of both of them on
February 19, 1965. Elizabeth sent Agnes a gracious and funny telegram:
“Please tell the
TV-Radio Mirror
editors and all concerned how sorry I am
that the
Bewitched
production schedule prevented my being there on this
proud occasion. Many thanks to you for your willingness to accept this
award for me. Bill and I want to congratulate you on your award. Fly home
as soon as you can but do take an airplane this time. Much love, Liz.”

Yet, to many, Agnes seemed more in tune with her other co-star, Dick
York. Perhaps it was because they both shared a strong spirituality, not that
the two were fellow fundamentalist Christians. York was more of a philosopher
who was open to many kinds of religions — Christian, Jewish, Hindu, etc.
“I believe in God. I’m looking, and I’m open to any and all ideas,” York told
TV Guide,
“and thoughts that can come close to pinpointing why all of us
are here.” Agnes told
TV Guide
about York, “I probably understand him
better than the others. He’s rather profound, you know. He has a spiritual
quality. I am a religious girl. I have great faith. This creates a rapport
between us. Actors who have this spiritual quality often understand each
other without much communication.” She also lashed out at critics who
underestimated what York brought to
Bewitched.
“. . . Dick plays a very
important part. Nobody can hold up a series by himself or herself . . .
Ignoring Dick isn’t constructive criticism, it’s absurd.” For his part, “Dick
York absolutely loved Agnes,” according to Herbie J Pilato. “Quite simply
the relationship between Dick York and Agnes Moorehead was the exact
opposite of the relationship between Darrin and Endora.” York’s widow,
Joey, would recall that “Dick admired and enjoyed working with Aggie —
they had a similar work ethic.” Screen Gems publicist Robert Palmer
recalled that Agnes once told him that York was “the one who really held
the show together. And that he was the least appreciated, because the hardest
job in the world is to react to crazy situations in a believable way.”

As always, when she committed to a project, Agnes burst with creative
ideas regarding her character and the show; some were adopted (in an early
episode, “Paris, Witches Style,” it was her idea to do a parody of the
American Airlines Commercials of the time with Endora sitting on the
wing of a plane with a drink in hand and say, “It’s the only way to fly!”),
some which were not (Agnes would later suggest that Endora create a
playhouse for the Stephens’ daughter, Tabitha, that looks quite ordinary on
the outside but when you enter, it suddenly becomes a palace with every
luxury possible). She also had her ideas of where witches come from — they
are created, not born. “Who has ever heard of a witch being born? We won’t
have any of that. Witches are made out of things like mushrooms and twigs.
Everybody knows that.” Of course Tabitha was born to Samantha, but that
was due to the mixture of mortal and witch. She also had a spin on the
Endora/Maurice “marriage”: “I have a husband in the series, a warlock who
pops in now and then, but there is no great love between us. We can’t be
bothered with that passion.” She also maintained that she never wanted to
see Endora flying around on a broom. “No self-respecting witch would use
one!” In one interview Agnes said she wanted Endora to have a pet owl,
which she wanted to name Jonathan, after her friend Jonathan Winters —
“I also want to do the owl’s voice.” Agnes also maintained that Endora didn’t really dislike her son-in-law, “she just brews up trouble to force her
daughter into using witchcraft occasionally, lest she become a mortal too.”

Agnes would also stress that she didn’t see Endora as “hateful.” She saw
the character as mischievous. “She tells her daughter . . . how frail mortality
is. She points out the selfishness and false pride of mankind, and the foibles
and failures of the mortal world. She can also bring order out of chaos and
we would all like to be able to do that!”

In December 1964
Hush . . . Hush, Sweet Charlotte
had premiered in Los
Angeles to qualify for the Academy Awards. Just before its brief LA run,
Robert Aldrich sent Agnes a note which deeply touched her: “I don’t know
if you really understand how completely we all feel about your contribution
to the picture. Without your brilliant characterization the picture wouldn’t
be what it is . . . whatever it is.”

The buzz was that while the picture was no W
hatever Happened to Baby
Jane?
, it would perform solidly at the box office — as the limited run in Los
Angeles indicated. But much to Bette Davis’ chagrin, the performance
receiving the most Oscar-buzz was not her own — but Agnes’.
Confirmation of this was when the Golden Globes were announced on
January 15, 1965. Neither Bette nor the picture itself was nominated, but
Agnes was for Best Supporting Actress in a dramatic performance. Her
competition was Elizabeth Ashley for
The Carpetbaggers,
Grayson Hall,
The
Night of the Iguana,
Lila Kedrova,
Zorba the Greek,
and Ann Sothern,
The
Best Man.
The awards were handed out on the evening of February 8 at the
Cocoanut Grove in the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles during a live
telecast of
The Andy Williams Show
. Agnes grew very excited as the date
approached as she had been told by nearly everyone that she was a shoo-in
not only for the Golden Globe but for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar
nomination. Her columnist friends, Hedda Hopper, Louella Parsons and
Dorothy Manners, were all talking her up in their columns. The picture
and Agnes were receiving tremendous amounts of publicity even though
the film had yet to be released nationally. When the big night arrived,
Agnes was escorted to the Grove by her friend and frequent escort, Cesar
Romero. After Edmond O’Brien picked up his award for Best Supporting
Actor for
Seven Days in May,
the Supporting Actress category came up.
Agnes sat up in her seat. The nominees were announced by the previous
year’s winner, Margaret Rutherford. Then, as always happens during such
drama, a hush came over the room. Miss Rutherford tore open the
envelope. “The Winner is . . . Agnes Moorehead for Hush . . .
Hush, Sweet
Charlotte
.” Agnes took to the stage and in her brief remarks thanked Robert
Aldrich, Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland. After the ceremony and into
the next day her friends and fans alike sent telegrams of congratulations
including Debbie Reynolds (also making the rounds of award shows due to
her spunky performance as
The Unsinkable Molly Brown
), who wrote,
“Dear Agnes — How thrilled I am for you. You are the dearest and deserve
only the top honors. Love, Debbie.”

Two weeks later, as the sun was rising on the morning of February 23,
1965, the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences announced their
nominations. The big nominated picture that year was
My Fair Lady
with
ten nominations.
Hush . . . Hush, Sweet Charlotte,
surprisingly, was not far
behind with seven nominations, but the only acting nomination was
accorded to Agnes in the Supporting Actress category. Agnes was enjoying
a day off from
Bewitched
and was sleeping in when the nominations were
announced. Soon, the ringing phone startled her awake with the news that
made her so happy, she later reported she had nearly “fallen out of my bed.”
She was almost as pleased when she heard that her friend Debbie Reynolds
had received her very first Oscar nomination for
The Unsinkable Molly
Brown
. She wired Debbie, who was appearing at the Riviera Hotel in
Las Vegas: “Dearest Debbie, As far as I am concerned you’re remarkable,
beautiful, talented and absolutely unsinkable. My love and best luck.
Devotedly, Agnes.”

Agnes couldn’t be faulted if she felt that it was a sign of good luck that
she and Debbie had both been nominated in the same year. It would be
both of their years. The next few weeks leading up to the Oscar ceremonies
would be some of the most exciting weeks of Agnes’ career. She received
gobs of newspaper print. Twentieth Century-Fox began a campaign on her
behalf to help her secure the Oscar; she conducted scores of newspaper and
television interviews. Right in the middle of it all, the film she was already
Oscar-nominated for was going to have its national release. Agnes truly was
the toast of the town.

Hush . . . Hush, Sweet Charlotte
opened nationally on March 12, 1965
and, as expected, the box office revenues were good. The reviews, however,
were mixed. One of the most enthusiastic came from Judith Crist, the
much-respected critic of the
New York Herald Tribune,
who praised the
picture but conceded that there were spots of slowness, “. . . but Mr. Aldrich
builds his atmosphere so painstakingly and exploits it so beautifully that
this devotee, for one, will not complain.” She had praise for the entire cast,
but particularly lauded Agnes: “Agnes Moorehead — well, Miss
Moorehead, just almost walks off with the show as the whining ‘po’ white
trash.” On the other side of the ledger, the “Dean” of the New York critics,
Bosley Crowther, of the
New York Times
, came down hard on both the
picture and its director. “Mr. Aldrich is being touted as a brilliant director
in Hollywood. His achievements to date, as I see them, are a couple of second rate freaks.” Agnes was not spared. “Agnes Moorehead as (the) weird
and crone-like servant is allowed to get away with some of the broadest
mugging and snarling ever done by a respectable actress on screen. If she
gets the Academy Award for this performance . . . the academy should close
up shop!”