She was a workhorse at Warner Bros. in the 1930s — making 10 films in 1932 alone — who went on to B-minus (in terms of stardom not talent) status for most of a 50-year career in movies and television.
Joan Blondell was sexy, naughty but always good-spirited onscreen, and, one suspects, offscreen as well. She costarred in James Cagney’s earliest movies in the 1930’s as well as the later efforts of Steve McQueen (1965’s The Cincinnati Kid) and John Tavolta (1978’s Grease). That’s some career arc!
So let’s see how you made out on our Monday Joan Blondell Quiz. She’s certainly worth knowing more about. As usual, to review the questions just scroll down to the blog below. Here we go:
1) Answer: c) James Cagney. He and Joan costarred on Broadway in 1929’s Penny Arcade which the actor wrote was for me a sterling success because it became my clear path to the high road — a 31-year movie career. This was the beginning of Hollywood for me, and for Joan too. Cagney referred to Joan as “my new old pal.” Blondell and Cagney made six movies together, and he described her as the only woman he loved other than his wife.
2) Answer: a) From 1930 to 1939, Blondell made 53 movies.
3) Answer: d) Joan made only 13 movies in the Forties, a real career slowdown.
4) Answer: 1947’s Nightmare Alley, starring Tyrone Power who plays a down-at-the-heels carnival hustler at the end of his rope. Joan is on hand as a veteran mentalist with whom Power’s character has had an affair. This is a grim thriller — unique among noirs, writes critic Eddie Muller. Joan won plaudits for her gritty yet sympathetic performance.
5) Answer: c) Both Blondell and June Allyson shared the same husband — Dick Powell. Joan was first to the altar; the marriage lasted from 1936 to 1944 (there’s the happy couple pictured above). A year after the divorce Powell married Allyson, a union that lasted until his death in 1963.
6) Answer: a) Joan and Elizabeth Taylor also shared a husband — producer Michael Todd. He and Blondell were married for three years beginning in 1947. It didn’t work out well.
7) Answer: c) Dick Powell and Blondell were teamed in 10 musicals together. No wonder they finally got married.
8) Answer: d) Jayne Mansfield.
9) Answer: 1951’s The Blue Veil, a melodrama starring Jane Wyman as a war widow who, after her child dies, becomes a devoted nanny-nursemaid to other familys’ children. Joan plays a fading musical actress whose 12-year-old daughter becomes a bit too close to Wyman ‘s character. (Trivia note: Natalie Wood played Joan’s daughter.)
10) Answer: Blondell’s screen image of the blowsy blond character seemed to grow out of fashion and segued to a different type of blond, represented by a) Veronica Lake.
Fun quiz, guys — I’ve always had a soft spot for Blondell, ever since reading her wonderful roman-a-clef/autobiography, “Center Door Fancy.”
“Always good-spirited onscreen” — definitely. Offscreen? Maybe not so much. I loved her 2 episode arc on The Lucy Show, as they were scratching around for a replacement for the recently departed Vivian Vance. (Ann Southern was ideal, but Blondell was more than acceptable.) According to Lucy info I’ve read online, Blondell wasn’t kept on because she was problematical — though Joe may have more info, having “written the book” as it were.
And I thought you gentlemen might appreciate the following;
During the run of the original production of Paul Zindel’s “The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-In-The-Moon Marigolds,” my husband (who directed the production) thought Blondell (one of the many replacements for Sada Thompson) might be very good in the role of Beatrice, the play’s beaten down heroine, and that her presence might have a positive effect on the box office.
He says she was trouble from the get go. She refused to wear the original costume, insisting on a glamorous shoulder baring negligee (she apparently loved her collarbones!), which the character could never have afforded and would never have worn.
She then insisted (through her toady, Ted Hook) that the original lighting design be abandoned in favor of lighting that flattered her. She next decreed that audiences wouldn’t accept her killing a rabbit (the dramatic high point of the play), and insisted that that scene be cut.
When my husband pointed out to her her that she, Miss Blondell, wasn’t killing a rabbit, the character of Beatrice was killing the rabbit (as well as the fact that no rabbit was actually being killed), she sniffed, “The impression is given.”
The play opens on Beatrice’s dingy home, where a phone is ringing. As Beatrice, the bedraggled heroine, Ms. Blondell (glamorously made up, coiffed, costumed, and lighted) appeared at the top of the staircase to the expected entrance applause, descended a few steps, lifted the phone to her ear, and said, “Line?”
My husband had his named removed from the program as well as the posters for the duration of Blondell’s run — before, during, and after which the box office remained completely unaffected.