Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy: Ten suspected or blacklisted Hollywood stars

The infamous reign of terror from Washington began with the reactivation in Congress of the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) in 1947. Its ostensible purpose was to root out Communist influence in Hollywood, suggesting that an active plot was in

place to undermine democracy through the insidious influence of film. As chaired by the combative J. Parnell Thomas (R-New Jersey) and abetted by politico-opportunist Richard Nixon, it became nothing less than an organization given a blank check to destroy the

livelihoods of people guilty of nothing more than holding left of center political beliefs. Fifty years after the era of blacklisting and “McCarthyism”, it’s easily forgotten that during the Depression, many Americans who were profoundly shaken by capitalism’s

apparent failure became more receptive to the allure of socialism. These people tended to be intellectual and idealistic, if sometimes naïve. To become a member of the Communist Party in the 1930s was not to advocate violent overthrow of the US government, or even

necessarily to be in support of Stalin, who in any case was our World War II ally. (At least one who was there has described party involvement back then as being little more than a social club – hardly a hotbed of subversion.) But it would guarantee you lots

of trouble when the political winds shifted in post-war America. (As for Thomas, following his chairmanship, investigations into his activities uncovered corruption that would land him in prison alongside two of the Hollywood Ten he’d sent there. Sweet.)

1) Lucille Ball (actress) The only one in this list to be accused, but not convicted. As the star of the decade’s most popular TV series, the entertainment world would not have survived the scandal if Ball had been banned. The accusation stemmed from the discovery that in 1936, Ball had registered to vote as a Communist. Something so damning could not go unnoticed, especially when careers were being ruined for far less. With so much of an investment tied up in I Love Lucy, it is highly unlikely that CBS was prepared to let the biggest star in their history be hung out to dry. One could make the case that, with so many others in their employ thrown to the wolves, some sort of tacit understanding was worked out to spare the star, who clearly had some ‘splainin’ to do.

Her testimony consisted of gobbledygook, explaining the 1936 registering as done purely to please her Socialist grandfather. Desi’s quote at the time was, “The only thing red about my wife is her hair.” Surely anyone thinking clearly at the time would have recognized a capitalist when they saw one. Lucy was given a pass and the network breathed a sigh of relief.

2) Lee Grant (actress) The only show-biz personality to be named for opposing sides in the Civil War, Grant was a childhood prodigy, making her debut onstage at the New York Met at the age of four. She went on to rack up an extensive body of stage credits, culminating in an award winning performance in The Detective Story. Reprising the role for William Wyler’s 1951 film version earned her an Academy Award nomination in her

film debut. With the Red Scare in full swing by this time, she did her career no favors by marrying blacklisted writer Arnold Manoff. He had been guilty of nothing more than being an associate of suspected personas and for belonging to organizations with suspect ties. The committee demanded that Grant testify against her husband in order to save herself, with predictable results. Overnight, her promising film career evaporated. It would be over a decade before this Oscar nominee would get another high profile role, that in TV’s Peyton Place in the sixties. This would earn her an Emmy; in due time she would end up with two Oscars, one for acting (in 1975’s Shampoo); another for a documentary in 1987. She has since made a career of directing in Lifetime’s Intimate Portrait series.

3) Larry Parks (actor) Truth be told, if it wasn’t for the fact of his being the only actor among the Hollywood Ten to be blacklisted, there would be very little reason to remember this man’s career at all. Parks studied drama in New York and signed a deal with Columbia Pictures in the early forties. Though not without talent, he proved difficult to type and therefore couldn’t quite find his niche. The bulk of his work consisted of lead roles in ‘B’ pictures and supporting roles in ‘A’ pictures. The one role he is identified with was his portrayal of singer Al Jolson in 1947’s The Jolson Story. He worked very hard to get the part, which required learning to lip-sync to Al’s singing. The resulting performance was a tour de force, garnering him an Oscar nomination. By public demand, a sequel was made (Jolson Sings Again – 1949). But his visibility and Communist Party ties brought him to the attention of HUAC. As an actor, he drew the most notice of the Hollywood Ten. Before the committee, he contritely admitted his past, as the past. But when called upon to name others, he told them, “Don’t present me with the choice of either being in contempt of this committee and going to jail, or forcing me to really crawl through the mud to be an informer”. Right would prove no match for might, and for Larry Parks, his nightmare was only beginning. (See The 1950s Most Wanted for further details.)

4) Betty Garrett (actress) To younger readers, you may remember this actress as Edna Babish from Laverne and Shirley. If you are a little older, she is Irene Lorenzo from All In The Family, the handy-woman next door. To any members of AARP that might be reading this, she was the singing/dancing star on Broadway and in several Hollywood musicals, more than once cast as Frank Sinatra’s love interest. Bubbly and talented,

Garrett was equally at home on the stage or on film. In addition to her musical abilities (in 1947’s Neptune’s Daughter, she famously sings “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”), she possessed impressive acting chops as well. So why didn’t this gifted actress rise to greater heights? Her troubles could be traced to 1944; in that year, she married actor Larry Parks. In perhaps the best example of “guilt by association” from the era, the public whipping of her husband made the guiltless Garrett equally persona non grata in Hollywood. For five years, in her prime, Garrett was not allowed anywhere near a soundstage. The shut-out would be broken in 1955 only when Columbia studio head Harry Cohn personally hired her for the lead in the musical re-working of My Sister Eileen, blacklist be damned. She made only one more film after that. It wouldn’t be until 1973 that TV producer Norman Lear pulled her out of mothballs, giving audiences a chance to rediscover Betty Garrett.

5) Pert Kelton (actress) A long career beginning as a child on stage and in films gave her the well-rounded background ideal for live variety television. Rising star Jackie Gleason, the host of DuMont’s Cavalcade of Stars, was developing a sketch centering on a husband and wife. He found Kelton to be perfect for his conception of Alice: brash, tough, and in no way intimidated by life – or him. Beginning in 1950, The Honeymooners quickly became a highlight of the program. In 1952, Gleason was ready to take the show to the next level when CBS beckoned. There was only one problem: Kelton’s name had appeared, wrongly as it happened, in the witch-hunter’s Bible, Red Channels. CBS absolutely refused to accept The Honeymooners with her in the cast. With no choice, she was fired but under the cover story that she was suffering from “health problems”. Stage

actress Audrey Meadows lobbied hard for the part and won it, despite Gleason’s own misgivings that she was “too young and too pretty” for the role (which presumably made the old and ugly Kelton just right). As for Kelton, her career was effectively suspended for ten years on the strength of a lie. Her appearance in The Music Man (1962) as Mrs.Paroo would be her last high-profile gig. In 1967, she and Gleason were reunited one last

time on the set of his latter-day Honeymooners, with Kelton playing Ralph’s mother-in-law. She died the following year.

6) Kim Hunter (actress) This product of New York’s Actor’s Studio made a seamless transition from stage to film work in the 1940s, appearing in several dark thrillers. She didn’t abandon Broadway altogether, however: in 1947, she was cast in Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire as Stella. The role would make her a star, and it was natural for her and Brando to reprise their leads in the film version. The performance would score her an Oscar, which should’ve put her on top of the world. Instead, the would-be patriots in Washington called her on the carpet; not because she was a Communist or even a sympathizer, but because of some causes she sponsored, like world peace and civil rights. She was informed that some organizations she’d supported were suspected Red fronts. Though her actual involvement amounted to little more than signing petitions (she told them she hadn’t so much as attended a meeting due to her commitments), it was enough to damn her at a time when being accused of the crime was

as good as committing it. Both Hollywood and television shut her out for four years, compelling her to return to the theater. The first film she made upon the lifting of the embargo was the little seen Storm Center (1956), a powerful anti-censorship film. Today, audiences may remember her best for the role of Zira in the Planet of the Apes series.

7) Zero Mostel (actor) The former Samuel Mostel (he’d acquired his name in recognition of his grades in school) was a larger than life character actor, specializing in roles that delighted in disrupting established order. He had just been making the transition from stage to film when his name came up before investigators. Though not a Communist, he did hold some leftist beliefs and furthermore, had had a nightclub act where he routinely

sent up the ongoing witch-hunt. This was good enough for them. When brought in, Mostel denied any party membership and when pressed to name others, balked. Seeing what had happened to those who came before him when they tried to invoke their constitutional rights, he played the God card, telling the committee that to name others would be a violation of his religious beliefs. This impressed them no more than any other refusal, and he too was banished from Hollywood. He managed to support himself through stage roles, winning an Obie and then three straight Tonys for, in order:

Rhinoceros, A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum, and Fiddler On The Roof. His most memorable role, once his film career restarted, was as Max Bialystock in Mel Brooks’ The Producers (1968). He also starred in Martin Ritt's cinematic film treatment of the McCarthy era, The Front (1976), which featured Woody Allen (in a rare non-auteur role) and a host of real life blacklistees.

8) Sam Jaffe (actor) A familiar face to classic film buffs, Jaffe came on like nothing so much as a member of his former trade – a math teacher. The thin, wispy-haired man didn’t make his first film until his early forties, but from that point on he worked steadily, specializing in Einstein-esque “wise elder” roles. 1937’s Lost Horizon saw him as the High Lama; in 1950, he received an Oscar nomination for The Asphalt Jungle. Perhaps his most “political” role came in The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951), as Professor Jacob Barnhardt. Coming off the heels of this film, which challenged the government to give peace a chance, the much-loved Jaffe found himself before the committee as an accused Communist. Though well-known as a progressive, he was hardly a Red. Still, he would find himself unemployable for six years, during which time he was forced to move in with his sisters and resume teaching. Finally, director John Huston demonstrated the sufficient nerve to cast Jaffe in his 1958 John Wayne film, The Barbarian and the Geisha, effectively ending his blacklisting. He would score a steady TV gig in the sixties as Dr. Zorba on Ben Casey and continued working until his death at ninety-three, having outlived his tormentors.

9) Philip Loeb (actor) The Goldbergs was an enormously successful radio comedy for many years when it made the leap to television in 1949. Since the actor playing Jake on radio had died, a new male lead was needed opposite Gertrude Berg’s Molly on TV. Journeyman actor Philip Loeb was hired and the show’s popularity resumed. By 1950 however, Loeb found himself on the receiving end of a smear which declared he had been disloyal. The actor protested his innocence and declared under oath that he had never been a Communist. But the taint frightened sponsor General Foods, who threatened to withdraw support if the actor was kept on. As the show’s producer, it was Berg’s call and she stood by her man. As a result, the show was dropped by CBS. When NBC offered to rescue the program, sans Loeb, she caved. Out of work and his reputation in tatters, Loeb became despondent. With the loss of his livelihood and unable to afford care for his mentally ill son, he committed suicide in 1955. (Reactionary right-wing revisionist Ann Coulter insists that the sixty-three year old could have found work if he really wanted to.) In 1976’s The Front, Zero Mostel, a victim himself, played a character modeled after Loeb.

10) Leo Penn (actor/director) This stage actor was just beginning his film career when he got caught up in the witch-hunt. He first drew notice when he’d attended some union meetings in support of the Hollywood Ten. Upon being summoned before the committee, he refused to give names, thereby adding his own to the list. Unable to get any film work, he returned to the stage, and also picked up a few roles in television. By the end of the decade, he’d made the transformation from actor to director, working almost without a break from 1958 till the early nineties. Along the way, he would father some sons: Michael, Sean, and Chris. (Sean would recount an incident when he came to visit a film set as a child and witnessed a man hailing his father with a big “Hello”. What surprised him was when his normally affable Dad ignored the greeting and continued on. He later learned the man was Elia Kazan. (See The 1950s Most Wanted for further details.)

Click here to return to Out-takes menu

Click here to return to main menu