Twitch Upon a Star (32 page)

“It's a gossamer thing; and there are so many factors involved. They just mesh … and I certainly appreciate his talent. He's incredible.”

—Elizabeth, describing then-husband Bill Asher,
Modern Screen Magazine
, 1970

In the second half of its first season on May 20, 1965,
Bewitched
aired an episode called “Remember the Main,” directed by William D. Russell and written by Mort R. Lewis. It featured an actor named Edward Mallory who in 1967 married actress Joyce Bulifant (who later married Bill Asher after his divorce from Lizzie in 1974).

In the “Main” segment, the
Stephens
family gets involved with the political campaign of a local candidate running for office:

While the episode represents Elizabeth's political ideals off-camera, and certainly
Bewitched's
general message of democracy and equality on-camera, “Remember the Main” invites a play on words with insight into Lizzie's emotional metamorphosis with each new marriage, signified by something as simple as the change in style and color of her hair.

For example, by the time she and Bill Asher became involved with
Bewitched
, their relationship was sealed. She appeared more at peace than ever, a contentment that seemed to coincide with her decision to go blonde. When she and Asher first met on the set of
Johnny Cool
in 1963, her hair was brunette. After
Cool
and before
Bewitched
, she had a very
Samantha
-like blonde hairstyle in a few episodes of
Burke's Law
(one in which, in fact, she subconsciously does her famous twitch—even before she brings it to
Bewitched
!).

In general, Lizzie's real hair color was best described as “ash blonde, dirty blonde, or on the blonde side of brunette.”

As a young girl, she had very blonde hair—what they used to call
tow-head blonde
—but as she grew older, her hair grew darker, as is usually the case with tow-heads (although knowing Lizzie, her sense of humor, and her love for animals, she probably called herself a “toad-head”).

At various intervals in her adult life, she experimented with different shades that seemed to somehow match not only her mood, but her professional objectives, and indeed sometimes her husbands.

During her first marriage to Fred Cammann, she was wet behind the ears and inspired, but restless and inattentive. Her hair was merely streaked with blonde, possibly signifying her ambivalence to this union to the wealthy sophisticate, which she ended after only a year.

For a good portion of the time she spent with second husband Gig Young—in what could certainly be described as a dark marriage—Lizzie dyed her hair a dark brunette in hopes of being cast for darker, more textured characters. The strategy worked as she went on to play the war-torn
Woman
from “Two” on
The Twilight Zone
, the prostitute
Rusty Heller
from
The Untouchables
, and the devil's assistant in
Mr. Lucifer
. Ironically, of course, for her role in
The Spiral Staircase
, in which she co-starred with Young, she was a lighter brunette. But her off-screen troubles with Young outweighed whatever professional strides she made, and this marriage ended after six years.

A decade or so later, when she appeared in 1975's post-
Bewitched
TV-movie,
The Legend of Lizzie Borden
, her hair was a shade of red, which distinguished her from playing an all-blonde
Samantha
while still adding a unique tone to help ease the transition from comedy to drama. She wanted to distance herself from
Bewitched
, but not from her audience.

By this time, too, she was living with a brown-haired Robert Foxworth. They weren't yet married and would not be for years to come, but he was then the love of her life, and her darker blonde hair was a better match for his brown locks.

But in that first season of
Bewitched
, back in 1964, shortly after losing her heart—and dark hair—to director Bill Asher on the set of
Johnny Cool
, it was if the all-blonde Lizzie had the best of all worlds. For her, at the time, blondes did have more fun.

Before that, non-actor Cammann wanted Lizzie to give up her beloved acting craft (like
Darrin
would ask
Samantha
to give up witchcraft). And although she viewed the thespian Young as a father figure—and he certainly respected their combined theatrical craft—it was director Asher who would guide her most succinctly, on and off camera. In short, she was bored with Freddie, exhausted by Gig, and the happiest with Bill.

As writer Joe Hyams pointed out in
The Saturday Evening Post
, March 13, 1965, with Bill, Elizabeth was leading a rich, full life without the stigma of being “a poor little rich girl.” She still did all her favorite things—like ride horses, paint, and play tennis—which as previously mentioned Asher also enjoyed. But she found in
Samantha
a role that fit her like a glove—and a husband in Asher who, although slighter in physical stature, stood just as tall as her father in commanding a room.

As her old friend Bud Baker told
TV Radio Mirror
in September of 1967, at the onset of
Bewitched's
fourth season—and the fourth year of her marriage to Bill—Lizzie was “so alive now; so completely honest.” There was no “above-it-all” attitude like when she was as “a kid at those parties. No faking the phony social stuff the way she had to with Freddie. No trying to adapt to Gig's very nice quiet reserve. She's Billy's girl, and absolutely honest; nothing to fear. Every actress has to have a pretty strong ego, but you can't overpower a guy like Bill.”

Baker further explained:

“Together” is putting it mildly. They were joined at the hip, at home and at the office.

According to what
Bewitched's
publicist Harry Flynn told
TV Guide
writer Arnold Hano in 1967, Bill Asher was tough and tender for all the right reasons: “If you make a mistake, he can give you a rough time. He's especially hard on phonies”—as was Lizzie. “If an interviewer is not her cup of tea, she can't sit down and be pleasant. She loathes pretensions.”

In effect, the Ashers were refreshing, direct, and honest. If they reminded you less of the crowned heads of Europe, Hano said, they reminded you more of the Kennedys. Like the Kennedys, they were brisk, businesslike, tireless, hard-nosed, competent, personable, pragmatic, and intelligent; and they liked to play touch football.

They were also in tune. When Lizzie performed as
Samantha
, she kept her eyes glued on Asher, who would feed her the cues. If he beamed, she beamed; he nodded, she nodded; he smiled, she smiled. Asher judged actors within a strict margin, and Lizzie was on his scale. “As an actress,” he said, “there is nothing she can't do.” Lizzie added, “Bill is the best director I've ever worked with.”

More than anything, as Hano detected, they were two people in love. They also
liked
each other, and were subsequently perceived as a combined breath of fresh air in Hollywood—living proof that opposites attract.

Again, they were “the fun couple”—not the series idea, but the actual people. She was the rich Beverly Hills girl and he was the not-quite-poor boy from Manhattan. She was tall, slender, blonde, and beautiful, the cool-eyed girl who danced until dawn at all those New York balls in 1951. He was short, squat, thick-necked, and balding, like your friendly neighborhood wrestler. She went to swank finishing schools, danced with Andover boys and Harvard men, summered in England with her father, and began her career at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Asher never finished high school. But decades later on
Bewitched
, as far as Lizzie was concerned, Asher graduated at the top of his class, and they became an unstoppable team.

Once they got rolling on
Bewitched
, Lizzie and Bill had their life and art down to a science. Although she once said that her “art belonged to Daddy,” that is, Robert Montgomery, Bill Asher was the new “daddy” in town.

According to
TV Guide
in 1967, their work day began at 5:30 AM and lasted until 7:15 PM, when they'd arrive home to see the kids: first-born William Jr., followed by Robert and then Rebecca. After play time Elizabeth would study lines while Bill planned the shooting schedule. From there it was dinner and bed.

On weekends they played golf, tennis, or both, they'd drive down to Palm Springs to party, and were usually the last to leave any festivity. Lizzie decided at one gathering to play the piano, just before dawn. “She does not really play the piano,” a friend said. “She attacks it.”

Early the next morning they romped through a game of that Kennedy-esque touch football on the lawn to loosen their muscles for countless sets of tennis.

“We work hard during shooting days, to have more free time in the evenings and on weekends,” Asher said. “Our private life comes first.”

Lizzie agreed. And although
TV Guide's
Arnold Hano described her as a “reasonably headstrong girl,” she deferred to Bill in nearly all matters. Just as her old friend Bud Baker had concluded, her alliance with Asher created a new Lizzie. The one-time social butterfly now seemed to be locked in a cocoon.

Although they still enjoyed a night on the town, Lizzie and Bill were old-fashioned, maybe like Fred Cammann had once envisioned he and Lizzie might be during her first marriage. But now, with Asher, she was ready to settle down.

“If I am asked to make a publicity trip and Bill can't go along, I don't go,” Lizzie told
TV Guide
. “It's all right for the man to go off by himself. The man is head of the family.”

In short, Mr. Asher would never be known as “Mr. Montgomery.” When explaining
Bewitched's
appeal to
TV Guide
, it sounded like he was tooting his own horn. But the fact was, he knew his stuff. “The show,” he said, “portrays a mixed marriage that overcomes by love the enormous obstacles in its path.
Samantha,
in her new role as housewife, represents the true values in life. Material gains mean nothing to her. She can have anything she wants through witchcraft, yet she'd rather scrub the kitchen floor on her hands and knees for the man she loves. It is emotional satisfaction she craves.”

When asked whether he was defining his own philosophy of life and marriage, Asher replied, “Completely.”

While their material gains may have meant nothing to Lizzie or Bill, as was explained in
TV Guide
, neither was discarding the luxuries. By the spring of 1967, the close of
Bewitched's
third hit year, they had four vehicles: a Mercedes 220 SE coupe (his), a Jaguar XK-E (hers), a Chevrolet Corvette (his), and a Chevy station wagon (theirs). The latter two were company courtesy cars (Chevrolet was a
Bewitched
sponsor).