#Margaret LaVelle Fitzpatrick

[timeless-hollywood-classics]

Gail Patrick (born Margaret LaVelle Fitzpatrick, June 20, 1911 – July 6, 1980) was an American film actress and television producer. Often cast as the bad girl or the other woman, she appeared in more than 60 feature films between 1932 and 1948, notably My Man Godfrey (1936), Stage Door (1937) and My Favorite Wife (1940).

After retiring from acting she became, as Gail Patrick Jackson, president of Paisano Productions and executive producer of the Perry Mason television series (1957–66). She was one of the first female producers, and the only female executive producer in prime time during the nine years Perry Mason was on the air. She served two terms (1960–62) as vice president of the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences and as president of its Hollywood chapter—the first woman to serve in a leadership capacity in the academy, and its only female leader until 1983.

[chiseler]

Gail Patrick: Malice Aforethought

The ultimate in resting bitch face, Gail Patrick could do more with a slight malicious smile than most actors could with the nastiest lines of dialogue. She was always sizing people up on screen, looking at them as if she could spot every weakness in their character and every humiliation they had ever suffered. Patrick knew instantly where she could stick all her knives, but the funny thing about her is that she seemed too basically cool and sedentary to really do too much damage, like a cat who stretches out and just scratches a canary before going back to sleep in the sun.

A brainy Southern girl, Patrick was born Margaret LaVelle Fitzpatrick in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1911. She graduated from Howard College and did two years of law school at the University of Alabama, saying later that she thought about running for state governor. But in 1932, for what she termed “a lark,” Patrick entered a Paramount Pictures beauty and talent contest and got the fare to Hollywood. The winner of the contest would get to be the “Panther Woman” in the Universal picture Island of Lost Souls (1932), starring Charles Laughton, and surely Patrick would have put a scare into both Laughton and co-star Bela Lugosi, but she didn’t get that part, which went to Kathleen Burke. (“It kind of ruined a career for her because nobody would take her seriously after that,” Patrick offered.)

She was presented with a standard studio contract by Paramount, but the strong-minded Patrick wouldn’t sign until her salary was raised from $50 to $75 a week and part of the contract was taken out. “I also read the fine print and blacked out the clause saying I had to do cheesecake stills,” Patrick said. “In the back of my mind I had this idea I could never go home and practice law if such stills were floating around.” She was groomed and coached until she lost her Southern accent, and then Patrick was ready to steal any scene she was in.

She made her first impact in Mitchell Leisen’s Death Takes a Holiday (1934), where she was filmed in stylish gowns and wore blond hair. Patrick is a distinct screen presence because she cannot help that “bitch” quality of hers from rising to the surface, no matter how hard she smiles or how hard she tries to be appealing in Death Takes a Holiday (much like such sisters in 1930s movie bitchery as Verree Teasdale and Genevieve Tobin). There is always something strained in her attempts at good spirits, as if she were a wicked stepsister just waiting to make some vicious remark about everyone in the cast. “I really put my all into that one,” she said. “It gave me a big career boost.”

She was a rival to Joan Crawford in No More Ladies (1935), which showed that Patrick was ready to rattle the most intimidating figures, taking in Crawford as if she can see the former chorus girl in her from a mile away. She drunkenly confesses to a dalliance with Crawford’s husband Robert Montgomery in a manner that tries for rumpled girlish candor but inevitably reads, as always with Patrick, as sheer malice. “I was hired because I towered over Joan,” she said. “She didn’t get temperamental—she simply expected blind obedience from cast and crew.”

Patrick coolly observed the “nasty” fights on the set of Mississippi (1935) between Bing Crosby and W.C. Fields and did her time in programmers before coming to the part that really set her up, Cornelia Bullock, the big bad sister to Carole Lombard’s daffy socialite Irene in My Man Godfrey (1936). Cornelia is the rich bitch incarnate, flaunting her privilege and power like a spoiled child, but with a wide streak of womanly sadism to make many of her scenes deeply unpleasant. Yet Patrick said that she was so afraid of the camera and nervous that she never saw her own films until she showed a friend My Man Godfrey in 1979. “My fright emerged as haughtiness and I can see where I got my image as a snob, a meanie,” she said. “And it’s the movie that typed me and the one I’m still asked about.”

Gregory La Cava, the director of My Man Godfrey, told Patrick to “suck on lemons and beat up little children” to prepare for her role, and maybe she was just a skeptical, smart girl scared of being in the movies, but that’s finally a little hard to believe. You don’t play Cornelia Bullock in the scathing way Patrick does without at least knowing something about inherent meanness and it uses and effects. Then again, fear has often been known to make people behave badly, and shyness can be seen as unfriendliness. “She had to be bratty, mean, demanding, and no winks to show I wasn’t really like that,” Patrick said of Cornelia.

She followed up Cornelia with her finest bitch performance of all, Linda Shaw, erstwhile roommate to Ginger Rogers’s Jean Maitland in La Cava’s great Stage Door (1937), where she engages in wisecracking duels with Rogers so brutal that it comes as no surprise when Rogers’s Jean ends one of them with the line, “Well, so long, if you ever need a good pallbearer, remember I’m at your service.” Patrick enjoyed working with Rogers in Stage Door because she said they could try scenes different ways, whereas she sniped that with the “Great Kate” Hepburn every scene was done the same way. “She never took direction and always walked around with that haughty air,” Patrick said of Hepburn. “Ginge was everything Great Kate wasn’t. The crews loved her and hated Kate for the airs she put on.”

Patrick was only 26 when she made Stage Door, but she reads as a lot older and more experienced, and so it’s believable when Rogers, who was the same age as Patrick, seems to have youth and freshness on her side as she diffidently snags jaded Linda’s man, the theatrical producer Anthony Powell (Adolphe Menjou). Patrick goes as far with verbal bitchery as it is possible to go in Stage Door, and her snobbery is at its most cutting and armored, too, and yet there are a few moments here when we can see that Linda is just as subject to the vagaries of men and show business as the other girls at the theatrical boarding house she lives at. Linda has a freezing sort of dignity when she realizes that Jean is replacing her with Powell, for the time being, and she has the confidence and lack of illusions that can wait to get him back. This has nothing to do with lack of pride, for Linda has plenty of that where it counts, and then some. It has to do with understanding how the world works and how unfair it can be without ever feeling sorry for yourself.

There’s a brief scene in Stage Door where Patrick relaxes a little for once as Judy (Lucille Ball) talks about the moment when she first wanted to go into show business. Patrick smiles almost easily here, as if her guard is just slightly down briefly, and the effect is touching because there is no other moment on screen when she opens up just a little bit for us. In the end, Linda gets Powell back, and she probably has the guts to keep him until another new blond comes along, and when that game is all finished at least she’ll have the fur coats he bought her to keep her warm on the cold nights ahead. Whatever happens to her, Linda will be all right because she takes nothing seriously and never gets her emotions, if she has any left, involved. That’s one way of getting through life.

Patrick’s most notable role after that was as Cary Grant’s wife Bianca in My Favorite Wife (1940), where the frustration of “the other woman” does not really suit her brand of steely control backed up by a witchy talent for insults and vindictiveness. By the time of Claudia and David (1946), Patrick could see the writing on the wall. “One day, we were sitting around the set and dear, sweet Dorothy McGuire started chattering about her great pleasure in working with such veterans,” Patrick said. “Well, I was seven years her senior, and Mary Astor was only 40 at the time. Mary bristled, but I just kept on with my knitting.”

Patrick, who married four times, had a successful second career as a television producer, where as Gail Patrick Jackson (the last name of her third husband), she put her law background to use as executive producer on the Perry Mason series, which starred Raymond Burr and lasted from 1957-1966. She let her hair go white and was still a handsome and stylish figure around town in this period. Patrick died in 1980 at age 69 in her home in Hollywood, in the arms of her fourth husband. Whenever she turns up in a movie, I think of that old saying, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit next to me.”

by Dan Callahan

[immortalephemera]

Gail Patrick

Gail Patrick (1911-1980)

Born Margaret LaVelle Fitzpatrick in Birmingham, AL, she had two years of law school and dreams of a political future when she entered Paramount’s “Panther Woman” contest on a whim. Kathleen Burke won the contest, but Patrick made the final four and was offered a contract by Paramount that she renegotiated to her favor. The studio put her through training, changed her…

[cladriteradio]

undefined

Actress Gail Patrick, born Margaret LaVelle Fitzpatrick 106 years ago today in Birmingham, Alabama, was the supporting actress audiences of the 1930s and '40s loved to hate. She played haughty, unsympathetic women who generally received their comeuppance, much to the delight of moviegoers.

Here are some fun facts about Ms. Patrick's life and career...