Photo below: Dean Stockwell doing a play. In the 1970s. Movie career more or less dried up. He did theatre, television roles when he could get them – and finally gave up on acting – couldn’t make a living – he got married (for the second time) – got his real estate license – he was living in New Mexica – and whaddya know, that’s when movie roles started picking up for him again. That was in the early 1980s. But at the time of him taking the bow below? He’s in the wilderness. It’s not off-Broadway. It’s not off-OFF-Broadway. It’s basically just ‘OFF’.
But Stockwell has said, “Acting is my work – it’s what I do. Even when it makes me miserable, I’m happy.”
Something about actors taking bows always kinda gets me right here. There’s such honor in it. Even if the venue is not so spectacular. Especially if the venue is not so spectacular. To me, there’s such honor in that photo – in the crappy set, the smiles, the ritual of bowing. I find it really moving.
I never get tired of quoting Tennesee Williams:
Make voyages! — Attempt them! — there’s nothing else.
If you only keep your focus on the result, you will have a very sorry time of it. Not that we are wrong to enjoy success, to yearn for success. But still. In that photo below. It is not about the glory. It’s about the work. He was, once upon a time, the #1 child star in America. We know the sad endings of many of those kids. And that’s what gets me about such a photo – his fellow cast members standing back to clap for him, his smile, his in-the-moment pleasure …
There is dignity in it. People who don’t understand us show-trash feel sorry for folks like Mickey Rooney doing summer stock. They see that and think, ‘Oh what a shame. He was such a big star once.’ They feel sorry for Teri Garr doing local commercials. Feel sorry for Dean Stockwell doing a short run of a play in a theatre in Nevada. But if it is about the work … and – if it is ONLY about the work – then there is nothing to feel sorry for at all. Perhaps Mickey Rooney has some moments of self-pity – and I know that Dean Stockwell sure did (“why the hell can I not get work? What is going ON?”) – but there’s only one thing to do – and that is: KEEP. GOING. If you’re an actor, then BE an actor. You’re lucky if you get a big wide platform … but if that platform is taken away from you … do you still want to do it? Then DO it.
Stella Adler, great acting teacher, once said, “It isn’t that important to know who you are. It’s important to know what you DO. And then do it like Hercules.”
So the photo below, to me, is a triumph, in all its second-rate thrown-together quality.
It’s about the journey. The “voyage”. If you can “make” the voyage, great! … but the REAL point of it all is the “attempt”. Whatever that looks like. It is not up to US to choose what our voyage looks like. Just ATTEMPT the voyage. “There’s nothing else!”
And I need to be in that zone now. I need it more than anything.
Needin’ a happy place and so I found it.
I love the look on his face and just the shape of his stance as they’re applauding for him — it’s almost like disbelief, at least to me. He’s taking in this moment and he’s humbled by it. That’s how he looks to me. It really IS beautiful.
Tracey – yes, it’s lovely. A lovely humble moment – witnessed by 99 people in a small town in Nevada. I just love that!!
That picture makes me think of Cassavetes’ Opening Night. The shape of the stage and event the set is similar, I think.
ahhhh yes, Ted. Opening Night. Yes. I see that too – in more ways than one. What a movie – what a story.
Those other actors are applauding him for being proud enough of himself to appear with them in Nevada. You’d never catch Corey Haim DEAD doing some play out in the middle of nowhere. But clearly Dean Stockwell reveres the ‘stage’ to the point that it contains dignity. No matter the setting.
Awesome.
Oh, Bren, I like your take on it. Yes, I can see that too. sniff, sniff.
I’m thinking about those 99 people in Nevada who, thanks to Dean Stockwell’s humility and dedication, got to see him perform in a play that up-close. Those folks in the front row could almost take a swig from the glass on the coffee table on the stage. And then there’s the rest of the cast getting this unbelievable chance to work with a true professional and a great talent.
And in the middle of it all is Dean Stockwell, amazed that they’re all making a fuss over him in the middle of Nevada.
This is officially awesome.
Nightfly – oh yes! Let us make the awesomeness official!! :)
Yes, It really is beautiful.
This is a photo from the Neil Simon play “Come Blow Your Horn” 1970. According to the program cover (I looked it up on the photo album on my stockwell sassies website), it was performed at the Union Plaza Hotel/Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. I love 1970’s era Dean……
Me too, Jill.
What kills me about this photo and what it signifies is the survival instinct of the artist.
To quote stella adler:
It is not that important to know who you are. It is important to know what you do. And then do it like Hercules.
This is a lesson I have to learn over and over again. And when I look at a photo like that one, it is a reminder.
Oops, make that 1979. I looked at his hairline in the photo more closely, and thought ‘No, that’s not Dunwich Horror hair….’ So I researched my archives, and found the date 1979. If only I was this obsessive-compulsive about my own life….
HAHAHAHAHAHA I soooo know what you mean.
I love it. I have that kind of obsessive thing with Marilyn Monroe, too – I can look at a picture and know where/when/who she was with … just by the way her hair swoops or whatever.
Dunwich Horror is a hoot. I love its goofy overwrought ridiculousness.
Ah, Marilyn…..she is in my living room right now, wearing long white gloves and a black dress, leaning in towards some gentleman as if he was the only person in the world, right above October 2007…..still a calendar girl, after all these years.
Okay, this is spooky….because I also noticed Bogart among your obsessions. He decorated my bedroom wall back when I was a teenager, many years ago. Of course, there are only so many icons to go around, I suppose it’s inevitable that people will be attracted to the same auras.
Oh man, Bogart. I just LOVE that guy. I think Cary Grant is probably my favorite actor, if I HAD to choose … but Bogart!!
I wonder if maybe (just speculating here) that some of the similarities in these people – and why we might be drawn to them – is that there is a certain mystery at the heart of them? That’s my theory for myself anyway.
I can be obsessed with Bogart for years on end and still feel like I’m discovering new things about him. He holds his cards close to his chest. I think Stockwell, in a weird way, does that too. Marilyn SEEMED much more wide open – but in a way – what a mysterious lady she was … that sadness, the way she makes everyone, men AND women, feel protective towards her …
I never get sick of these people, you know? Maybe because they don’t give EVERYTHING away … they hold a little bit back and that keeps me wanting more.
Oh and fuggedabout how mysterious Cary Grant is. I watch him in awe. He’s cranky, he’s funny, he’s sexy, he’s brittle, he’s full of ease, he’s vulnerable, he’s macho (Only Angels Have Wings is my favorite performance of his – it’s almost a parody of macho-ness!) – He just … you can never ever pin him down. And he always looks like Cary Grant – hair parted on the same side, etc. – but … his essence? Elusive. Shifty. You think you know him, then he sidesteps …
Guy was a genius.
I’d love to hear your favorite Bogart performance, Jill! I’m off to bed now but I’ll come back tomorrow!