TGIF!!!

We sincerely hope that you plan to party this weekend as much as we do. Because of our ever-revolving social whirl, we shall be quite busy this weekend, so we shan't see you again until Monday, when we reveal our latest Mystery Guest, and indulge in all sorts of revelry. Be safe, and have fun, darlings!

What Would Cary Do?

THANKS

If You Want the Girl Next Door...

...don't move in next door to Beverly Michaels.

Have You Met Our Mother?

Held Over By Popular Demand

Special sister-to-sister shout out to MC!

Luck of the Irish

Grace Kelly was the #1 answer for our latest Mystery Guest; however, the actual lady in question is about as far from that Main Line debutante as you can get: the positively Amazonian Irish McCalla, who became a TV superstar as Sheena, Queen of the Jungle in the 1950's. Then as now, transcending a fixed image seen by millions of viewers on a weekly basis was difficult; films like She Demons (1958) didn't help Ms. McCalla's chances for longevity, either. Happily, she did age gracefully and well, showing off a remarkably lovely face and toned physique well into her sixth and seventh decades at personal appearances and conventions; and McCalla also became a rather prolific artist, specializing in Western scenes. Irish McCalla passed away at age 73 following a stroke and her fourth brain tumor; but she's fondly remembered for her glamour modeling and her revolutionary, pre-Xena turn as the boldly empowered Sheena.

Her Serene Highness, indeed.

The prize was going to be a private modeling session with ayem8y wearing the leopard-skin Sheena costume and handling his spear.

Too bad, bitches.

Guess Who?

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Jump for her love.

THANKS

Work Week Have You Cross-Eyed?

Ours certainly does. We'll be back tomorrow, darlings.

The Mysterious Case of the Three Nicks

Hootenanny Hoot (1963, MGM)
dir.: Gene Nelson
Nick Novarro as Jed Morse
Pam Austin as Billie-Joe Henley

Nick Novarro has exactly two recorded entries on imdb.com: Hootenanny Hoot (1963), a country-themed musical for MGM; and Scream of the Butterfly (1965), a low-budget shocker with a surprising twist (Nick's character is a gay-for-pay gigolo). That's it. No biographical info. No other credits. And it made us curious: how do you go from being featured in an MGM musical (albeit a Katzman unit quickie) to a seedy, barely-distributed exploitation flick in just over a year? Even more puzzling: with a face and frame which still inspires lustful admiration from contemporary viewers who have belatedly discovered Scream of the Butterfly as a cult film, how do you completely disappear into anonymity?

With a little investigative research (okay, Googling) we discovered something: the lithsome Nick, although credited as "Novarro" in both films, was listed as "Navarro" in some of the advertising copy.

A ha!

Nick Navarro has a still-brief, yet somewhat more extensive list of credits as a dancer and choreographer, which would fit in with his role as a high-kickin' hootenanny hooter. He also was sometimes billed under what we assume is his given name, Nick Covacevich - which is how he appeared in West Side Story (1961) as "Toro."


Dancer Kathy Kroll also lent some tantalizing clues, crediting Nick Navarro on her website among the choreographers she worked with over the years, including the Bare Touch of Vegas revue from 1978-80.


And then the trail goes cold again. The last credit we can find is as choreographer for LaToya Jackson's Playboy Celebrity Centerfold home video, which we can only assume is no better than Scream of the Butterfly. Nick Novarro, Navarro, or Covacevich, if you're reading this, inquiring minds want to know where and how you are.

Girlz in Da Hood

Sister, Sister, Oh So Fair...

...how did you get so much height to your hair?

Mad For Mitchum

Our Operators Are Standing By

And hanging to the left.

Via SISSYDUDE, of course!

It's True...

You are being judged.

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The Elusive Jeff Richards

Code Two (1953, MGM)
dir.: Fred Wilcox
Jeff Richards as Harry Whenlon
Elaine Stewart as Jane Anderson

You would think, judging by the photo above, that the divinely square-jawed, all American Jeff Richards would have become Metro's reigning male star of the 1950's. You would also think that Dore Schary would have had the good sense to keep Richards shirtless most of the time. Instead, MGM miscast him in musicals both fair (Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, 1954) and foul (The Opposite Sex, 1956).


In the latter, he at least got to be sandwiched between Dolores Gray and Joan Collins - which would be heaven for certain homosexuals, but all wrong for a strapping ex-baseball player like our Jeff. MGM continued to flail around, casting him in other unsuitable vehicles like the grim Western The Marauders and the silly comedy, It's a Dog's Life (both 1955). Paired with Jeff in both instances was the exotically-monikered Jarma Jarvis, who displayed, alternately, hostility and a lack of interest in her co-star which we find rather unfathomable.



Don't Go Near the Water (1957), a Naval comedy in which Jeff found himself ninth-billed below Eva Gabor and Russ Tamblyn, ignominiously closed out his MGM career. A switch to Warner Bros. landed him first- and second billing in his two films there; unfortunately, these amounted to the Mamie Van Doren rodeo musical (!) Born Reckless (1958) and the self-explanatory Island of Lost Women (1959).



Surprisingly, none of Jeff's films ever fully capitalized on his initial promise as a prime slab of beefcake; and, truly, his rangy frame always looked uncomfortable and surprisingly stumpy in the 1950's-style sack suits the B-unit wardrobe departments stuck him in. Memo to Dore Schary: you shoulda kept him in a bathing suit.