Authors: Sam Irvin
“The Four Teens recorded a song called ‘Can’t Get Out of This Mood’ by Frank Loesser and Jimmy McHugh,” Stevens remembered, “and Kay knocked off the arrangement in about an hour.”
Released by Decca Records, the song shot to No. 20 on the
Billboard
chart and was subsequently performed by the quartet in
RKO Jamboree: Johnny Long and His Orchestra,
an eight-minute musical featurette.
“Kay was thrilled for us,” Phyllis recalled, “but I think she kind of wished she’d recorded the song herself.”
“Kay wrote special lyrics for the Four Teens that were very clever,” Stevens added. “For the song ‘I Can’t Get Started with You,’ she wrote the line, ‘And Joe DiMaggio’s bats over me,’ and for some other song she came up with, ‘Smokio over Tokyo,’ describing a bombing raid or something. She created as she spoke. She never edited anything. It was an emotional outburst, superseded by superior talent.”
On the acting front, Kay was summoned to California to audition for a supporting part in Republic Pictures’
Hit Parade of 1943
starring Susan Hayward. Kay read for the role of Belinda Wright, Hayward’s wisecracking older sister, a
character that was ultimately awarded to Eve Arden, who, ever since her splash in
Stage Door,
had all but cornered the market on sardonic female sidekicks.
Though she didn’t get the job, Thompson still managed to be involved in the film. Her friend and fan Jule Styne had composed six new songs for the musical, and when he heard that Kay was pounding Hollywood pavement, he convinced Republic’s music director, Walter Scharf, to bring Thompson on during the prerecordings to beef up the vocal arrangements. She received no credit, which was typical of the often unsung art of vocal arranging.
On that picture, Kay met the Music Maids and began coaching and creating vocal arrangements for them. The quartet’s leader, Alice Ludes, recalled that they were paired with the Three Cheers to sing “Do These Old Eyes Deceive Me,” for which they were all coached by Thompson. Kay also chose Music Maid Jeanne Darrell to dub Susan Hayward’s singing voice on several numbers, including “A Change of Heart,” which received an Academy Award nomination for Best Song.
But, all things considered, Kay really did not want to work for a Poverty Row studio like Republic Pictures; she had her heart set on Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Not only had she freelanced as a vocal arranger for two MGM movies (
Ziegfeld Girl
and
Andy Hardy Meets Debutante
), she also had a growing number of friends who worked there—Hugh Martin, Ralph Blane, Lennie Hayton, Vincente Minnelli, Charles Walters, and Conrad Salinger among them. Even if she had to freelance behind the scenes in the music department, Thompson figured that once she got her foot in the door, the opportunity would arise for her to star in one of MGM’s pictures.
Accordingly, in October 1942, Kay got herself hired at MGM to beef up the finale of
Presenting Lily Mars
(produced by Joe Pasternak). From a vocal arrangement by Hugh Martin—though Thompsonian in style—“Paging Mr. Greenback” (Sammy Fain–Yip Harburg) was a spectacular five-minute number sung by Judy Garland, with patriotic lyrics promoting war bonds. It was hoped that Kay’s coaching and choral direction would add extra oomph.
W
hile Kay was earning
greenbacks in Los Angeles, her boyfriend was doing just fine in New York. Bill Spier had successfully championed a
Forecast
pilot called
Suspense
into a smash anthology series on CBS, distinguished by big-name guest stars each week—including Orson Welles, who had transformed himself from Spier’s protégé to the Hollywood wunderkind of
Citizen Kane
.
A bigger mystery than any story ever presented on
Suspense,
however, is why Thompson never appeared on the show, particularly given her desire to
advance her career as an actress. On the October 25 episode of another Spier series,
Radio Reader’s Digest
, Kay’s acting skills were put to the test as daredevil reporter Nellie Bly in “The Front Page Girl.” (Promoting
Casablanca
, Claude Rains also appeared.) But Bill’s main interest in Kay remained personal.
Two weeks later, on November 11, 1942, Kay and Bill were married—though the circumstances remain shrouded in mystery. Margaret Spier Angeli, Bill’s daughter from his first marriage, disclosed, “My mother got a New York State separation but there was never an official divorce decree. She told me that my father had gone to Mexico and gotten a ‘quickie’ divorce but I don’t think it was considered legal in New York or New Jersey. That’s why I think Kay and my father were married in either Mexico or California, where the divorce was recognized.”
From then on, Bill’s children—Peter, eleven, Greta, nine, and Margaret, three—rarely saw their dad, and they never met Kay. He paid child support for a while but eventually stopped. Clearly, neither Bill nor Kay was cut out to raise children; they were far too career-driven and self-absorbed.
Just days after her wedding, Kay received word that the Four Teens had been offered an on-screen appearance in Universal’s
Hit the Ice,
starring Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, the No. 1 Box Office Stars of 1942. In the film, the Four Teens would team up with ingenue Ginny Simms to sing “I’m Like a Fish Out of Water,” accompanied by Johnny Long and His Orchestra. And, while at Universal, the quartet was also assigned to sing “Penny Arcade” in a musical featurette entitled
Swing Time
.
So they could prepare for the West Coast prerecording sessions in late November, the sheet music for both songs had been sent to the Four Teens in Philadelphia, where they were playing a gig. “Kay came to Philly and worked out the arrangements,” Phyllis recalled. “Then she came with us to Hollywood to coach us.”
“Penny Arcade” was so well liked, the Four Teens’ rendition was recycled in Universal’s
See My Lawyer,
produced and cowritten by Edmund L. Hartmann, Kay’s former colleague from Washington University.
While in Hollywood that December, Kay got hired again at MGM to do some freelance vocal arranging for Judy Garland in
Girl Crazy
. Though her work went uncredited, it marked Thompson’s first official involvement on a picture made by the “Freed Unit”—the crème de la crème musical factory-within-the-factory at Metro, led by producer Arthur Freed and his associate producer, Roger Edens.
There was a palpable competition among the various producer “camps” on the lot, particularly in the musical genre, with Joe Pasternak, Jack Cummings,
Irving Starr, and others vying for the best properties and stars. The leader of the pack, however, was Freed.
Strategically, Kay made herself useful to Judy Garland, the studio’s golden girl. In addition to coaching her singing on
Girl Crazy,
Thompson gave her pointers on posture and gestures, in collaboration with Roger Edens and the film’s choreographer, Charles Walters, whom Kay had known since 1933 (when they both appeared in
Low and Behold!
).
“[Garland’s] best early film was
Girl Crazy,
” noted film historian Albert Johnson, “largely because of Kay Thompson who taught Judy Garland how to be a younger, more dynamic version of Kay Thompson in such brilliantly designed numbers as ‘Bidin’ My Time’ . . . and ‘I Got Rhythm.’ ”
Kay also wowed her colleagues as a choral director on “I Got Rhythm” and “Bronco Busters,” for which she assembled a swinging choir that included the Music Maids, Six Hits and a Miss, and Hal Hopper (formerly of Kay’s Three Rhythm Kings).
B
ack on the East Coast,
a new star was about to be born. After three years and a string of Top 10 hits with Tommy Dorsey and the Pied Pipers, twenty-seven-year-old Frank Sinatra made his solo debut at the Paramount on December 30, 1942. When he took the stage, scores of teenage girls began screaming hysterically. Sinatra’s PR man, George Evans, admitted that “certain things were done” to get things started but the frenzy spread like wildfire and Sinatra mania took on a life of its own. It was the birth of the teen idol—the kind of fan worship that would later besiege Elvis, the Beatles, and Michael Jackson.
After record-breaking grosses, Sinatra agreed to extend his booking at the Paramount from January 27 to February 20, 1943. Prior commitments prevented his backup band, Benny Goodman and His Orchestra, from continuing, so plans were made to replace the outfit with Johnny Long and His Orchestra featuring the Four Teens, just back from Hollywood.
At the request of Phyllis Rogers, Thompson returned to New York to work with them during the day and after hours at the Paramount, at which time Kay met Frank and they became fast friends. He was so taken with her musicianship, he spent a lot of time observing her in action.
“We’d be working with Kay at three o’clock in the morning,” recalled Phyllis, “and there’d be the orange glow of a cigarette out in the dark, empty theater. He didn’t think we could see him but we knew it was Frank—just watchin’ us.”
Surrounded by success, Thompson and Spier grew anxious about their own careers. Bill envied Orson Welles’ remarkable transition from radio to the
movies. Similarly, Kay was turning green over her own growing list of protégés who had struck gold in Tinseltown. Hollywood beckoned. It would be easier for Bill to populate
Suspense
with stars there than it was in New York, and the movie capital was the place to be if Kay really wanted to be in the game. But relocating to California was easier said than done, especially given Bill’s executive position at CBS. The newlyweds were pretty much resigned to stay put when the phone rang. It was for Kay.
Panic at Metro.
Presenting Lily Mars
tested poorly. The “Paging Mr. Greenback” number was out. A whole new finale had been ordered for Judy Garland.
Before Kay finished packing her bags, Bill announced he was coming, too. Spier had convinced his bosses to let him bring
Suspense
to California for a trial run, while Thompson would be doing CPR at MGM.
Insert montage: Takeoff. Landing. The Hollywoodland sign.
They checked into a bungalow at the Garden of Allah, the legendary residence hotel nestled halfway between Hollywood and Beverly Hills, on Sunset Boulevard at Crescent Heights.
Bill set up shop at Columbia Square, the KNX/CBS Studios at Sunset and Gower, two and a half miles down the road from the hotel. There, several weeks of
Suspense
episodes were churned out with West Coast guests like Fredric March, Mary Astor, Bela Lugosi, and Sydney Greenstreet—enough to convince CBS that a permanent move to Hollywood was in order.
Kay’s commute to MGM in Culver City was seven miles—and she was put right to work. In place of the discarded “Paging Mr. Greenback” number, a mammoth ten-minute medley called “Where There’s Music” would be performed by Garland for the new finale of
Presenting Lily Mars.
Kay expanded and refined the arrangement that Roger Edens, Hugh Martin, and Conrad Salinger had been preparing for Judy’s next window of availability on March 4 and 5, when the marathon two-day recording session was scheduled to take place.
Meanwhile, Thompson got sucked into helping out on Metro’s
Swing Fever,
for which she arranged and conducted the choir on “Mississippi Dreamboat,” sung by Marilyn Maxwell.
“You can hear Kay’s voice really clearly singing with the chorus,” noted MGM authority George Feltenstein.
“Kay occasionally did sing with us,” confirmed Music Maid Alice Ludes, “but mostly she would just direct the chorus because her voice was deeper and stronger and did not blend in well with a group.”
Despite the variety of undertakings, Thompson’s main focus was on Judy Garland. In the four years since Kay had first met her on
Tune-Up Time,
the
young star had gone from sweet sixteen to Mrs. David Rose, wife of the famous composer-conductor. But marital bliss had come to a screeching halt when Rose had been inducted into military service in the fall of 1942.
“Judy was alone, save for his two weekend visits a month,” wrote Gerold Frank in
Judy.
“When he came home . . . he would walk into his house in his fatigues and heavy army boots to find a party in progress, with people he hardly knew or had never met. There was Kay Thompson, one of the wittiest of women, and her husband, Bill Spier . . . Roger Edens . . . Conrad Salinger . . . Charles (Chuck) Walters . . . June Allyson, Van Johnson, June Havoc, all brought from the East to Hollywood by MGM—all new people, exciting people. They played intricate word games and charades, everyone dealt in wit, satire and put-downs, and he felt out of it.” By summer, David and Judy would be officially separated.
Having worked professionally since the age of three and with more than a dozen movies to her credit, Judy had never had time to mature emotionally. Studio doctors had her on a merry-go-round of addictive medication, uppers for work, downers for sleep, and diet pills to keep her weight in check. Somehow, through this medicated haze, she developed an insatiable need for constant love and approval. To that end, Judy could make a perfect stranger feel as if they had known each other their entire lives.
Kay was naturally enthralled, if not a bit smitten, by this “laser beam of pure emotion.” As intensely as Judy was addicted to pills, Thompson became mesmerized by Garland and her blossoming career. If this was any indication of what life was like working for MGM, Kay wanted to join the club.
However, no sooner had she made herself indispensable at MGM than the Great White Way beckoned. On March 8, 1943,
The New York Times
reported that Thompson had been offered the lead role in a Broadway musical called
Early to Bed,
featuring thirteen new songs by Fats Waller to be conducted by Archie Bleyer (Kay’s maestro from
Forecast:
“51 East 51”) and choreographed by Bob Alton (
Hooray for What!
).
The bawdy comedy would have Kay playing Rowena, the madam of a bordello that gets mistaken for a hotel. All the ingredients were there for a hit, including some hilariously suggestive songs like “A Girl Doesn’t Ripple When She Bends,” “When the Nylons Bloom Again,” and “This Is So Nice (It Must Be Illegal).” This was the offer Kay had been waiting for all her life—to be a leading lady on Broadway.