Fact or fiction: Groucho Marx was seriously considered for the part of Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind. Try googling that. You will receive an education in the collision of fact, distortion, half-truth, and mythologizing that makes Hollywood history. You’ll find websites clamoring to give you the Groucho/Rhett connection. Skim a little for the first limitation on the claim: apparently, Groucho was Margaret Mitchell’s first choice, not David. O. Selznick’s. But is that any less daffy? One site claims it was a party joke told by Mitchell.
The best and most detailed explanation is that she made the comment to stymie the press. In the film’s three year pre-production period, reporters pestered Mitchell for her casting preferences. She finally endorsed Groucho for Rhett Butler in a deadpan manner, and closed off the questions. This account makes sense from what we know of Mitchell’s terse, quizzical manner with the press. She’d be amused at the unironic acceptance of her remark on some film sites today.
The truth about the casting of Rhett Butler? The public told the pollsters that Clark Gable was the overwhelming favorite, and Selznick knew this. But he didn’t have a deal with MGM, which included Gable’s services, until late summer 1938, and before that he discussed the role with Ronald Colman, then considered Gary Cooper. Jack Warner offered him a production deal which included Bette Davis as Scarlett and Errol Flynn as Rhett. Gable, of course, turned out to be Rhett Butler in every inch, and once the filmed opened in late 1939 it was hard to imagine anyone else in the role.
Hard, but fun. Forget the casting couch, there are better stories from Hollywood’s casting trampoline, that production zone where producers and directors bounce ideas around and actors are thrown in and out of films. A caveat: many of the stories that follow would qualify as hearsay in court. One can read Selznick’s own words in Memo from David O. Selznick (1972, ed. Rudy Behlmer), but much Hollywood lore is hard to source. It’s an industry built on hype. Also, the statement that an actor was considered for a role can mean a number of things: The producer wanted him. The director wanted him. A columnist put his name in. He put his own name in. He was one of 20 actors considered. He actually tested for the part. Hovering at the edge of some stories are the words ‘allegedly’ and ‘according to industry buzz.’ But that’s why we love Hollywood. Here, then, is a collection of stories for amusement and speculation. Who but Lugosi could play Dracula? Who but Weissmuller could play Tarzan? Hollywood wanted a list. Someone else might have worn that cape or swung on that vine. From the casting calls of 80 years ago:
The Jazz Singer (1927) – George Jessel was first in line to play Jakie, but he pulled out in a pay dispute. The part was offered to Eddie Cantor, who had done blackface and had tremendous energy on stage. One wonders if Cantor would have poured on the sentiment that Al Jolson brought to the final scenes. The part would have changed Cantor’s image, and he may have wished to avoid that.
All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) – ZaSu Pitts was cast as Paul Baumer’s mother, but preview audiences could not erase memories of her comic roles, and they giggled when she appeared. Her scenes were reshot with Beryl Mercer.
Dracula(1931) – There has been talk that Lon Chaney would have played Dracula, had he not died in August 1930. Chaney biographer Michael F. Blake points out, in A Thousand Faces, that this would have required a loan-out from MGM, a highly unlikely outcome. Director Tod Browning wanted Conrad Veidt, whose English at this time was not up to Hollywood’s requirements. Before Bela Lugosi landed his signature role (which he had already played on stage), Paul Muni, Chester Morris, John Wray, and the obscure William Courtenay were considered. (Chester Morris?!)
Frankenstein (1931) – Today we can’t imagine anyone but Boris Karloff as the monster, but in 1931 he was known for playing bits and supporting roles as thugs and bandits. John Carradine, who had the requisite height, turned down the part, as did Bela Lugosi, since it was not a speaking part. As we know, Karloff made it into an eloquent speaking part, with whimpers, howls, and terrifying growls. Bette Davis was considered for Elizabeth, and Leslie Howard for Dr. F.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) – Paramount wanted John Barrymore to remake his silent version. He turned it down, allowing Fredric March to step into the part, for which he won the Oscar.
The Public Enemy (1931) – Rehearsals began with Edward Woods as Tom and James Cagney as his sidekick, Matt. Cagney put his lines across with incredible conviction, and director William Wellman saw his star. The roles were switched. Louise Brooks was offered the Harlow part, but turned it down to take a trip to New York. This is one of a series of capricious, career-killing decisions that Brooks made, and it is distressing, because she would have picked up a notable credit and no doubt been better than Harlow, who turned in an awkward performance.
Red Dust (1932) – John Gilbert was thrilled to be offered the lead, but in preproduction the part was yanked away from him and given to MGM’s new fan favorite, Clark Gable. Garbo was considered briefly for Vantine, but it was finally written in an earthier style for Jean Harlow, who is terrific in the part. And Gilbert? He was assigned to Fast Workers(1933), a pathetic programmer.
Tarzan the Ape Man (1932) – Tarzan is tough to cast, but MGM found the all-time best Tarzan in a non-actor, champion swimmer Johnny Weissmuller. Previously, they considered Clark Gable, impossible as that sounds. The studio finally realized that none of their leading men could play the ape man. They considered non-studio talent, including Charles Bickford and Joel McCrea, two very different actors. Weissmuller was spotted by one of the writers swimming in a hotel pool, which led to one of the great casting inspirations of the 30’s.
42nd Street(1933) – Richard Barthelmess and Warren William were considered for the stage manager part that went to Warner Baxter; Kay Francis and Ruth Chatterton for the diva part that went to Bebe Daniels; Loretta Young for the understudy part that went to Ruby Keeler, and Joan Blondell for the sassy chorus girl played by Ginger Rogers. Barthelmess and Francis don’t sound quite right, but the others are credible. It’s a good illustration of the versatility of the Warners stock company.
Little Women (1933) – Lovely old Louise Closser Hale, playing Aunt March, died during production and was replaced by Edna May Oliver.
Queen Christina (1933) – Garbo rehearsed with Laurence Olivier as Antonio, but the two had no chemistry. Oliver withdrew. Garbo famously insisted that the studio bring in John Gilbert. Louis B. Mayer must have had a fit, but Gilbert returned to MGM for his last major film.
King Kong (1933) – The Fay Wray part (Ann Darrow) was turned down by Jean Harlow. The obscure Frances Lee (not Dee) was considered before Wray won the part that brought her immortality, screaming and screaming in her lingerie.
Twentieth Century (1934) – Miriam Hopkins turned down the role in which Carole Lombard unleashed her comic talents and ramped up her star profile, which led to a lucrative free-lance career.
It Happened One Night (1934) – No one wanted to be in Frank Capra’s little bus picture, which turned into the box office and Oscar champion of the year. Robert Montgomery and Fredric March turned down Gable’s part, and Gable took it only because MGM forcibly loaned him out for complaining about the parts they assigned him. Claudette Colbert signed on grudgingly, as a favor to Capra; her part had been turned down by Carole Lombard and Myrna Loy. The winners in all this? The audiences of 1934 and today and all time, and the prize is one of the all-time best screen couples, giving triumphant performances.
Captain Blood (1935) – Robert Donat was signed for the lead role. When this fell through, Warners considered Leslie Howard. Brian Aherne and George Brent tested for the part. Ultimately Errol Flynn, a studio newcomer who had played a few bits, tested for it, looked suitable, and was cast. Flynn was quite green, but he learned so fast that the studio reshot his first two weeks’ scenes.
Mutiny on the Bounty (1935) – MGM wanted Cary Grant to play Byam (done by Franchot Tone ultimately), and Grant was keen to do it, but Paramount wouldn’t release him. Wallace Beery turned down the part of Bligh.
David Copperfield (1935) – Charles Laughton filmed for two days as Micawber, but couldn’t get into the role. This opened the door for W. C. Fields, a dedicated Dickensian, to produce his flamboyant Micawber.
Anthony Adverse (1936) – Humphrey Bogart tested for the small part of Napoleon (played by Rollo Lloyd in the film.) Had he been cast, it would have stood with other weird Bogart roles, such as the Irish stable boy in Dark Victory (1939), the vampire in The Return of Doctor X (1939), and the Mexican bandito in Virginia City (1940).
Romeo and Juliet (1936) – The opportunity to play Romeo to Norma Shearer’s Juliet was turned down by Robert Donat, Laurence Olivier, and Fredric March, and by Clark Gable (vehemently.) Leslie Howard, age 43, played the teenage Romeo. Shearer was 36.
Camille (1936) – Lionel Barrymore took the role of Duval senior, originally intended for his brother John, a pity, since there are four Lionel/Garbo films, but only one, Grand Hotel (1932), with John and Garbo.
Hollywood Hotel (1937) – Bette Davis angrily turned down the parts of two lookalike girls, considering the whole project to be frivolous. Lola and Rosemary Lane played the girls. Later Bette played twins in A Stolen Life (1946) and Dead Ringer (1964).
Lost Horizon (1937) – Rita Hayworth tested for Margo’s role of Maria. David Niven and Louis Hayward tested for the part of George, played by John Howard. Walter Connolly tested for the high lama, played memorably by Sam Jaffe.
Dead End (1937) – George Raft, in the first of many such turndowns, declined the Baby Face Martin role, which became a career builder for Humphrey Bogart.
The Good Earth (1937) – In the studio era, almost anyone could take an Oriental role; Edward G. Robinson, Helen Hayes, Katherine Hepburn, and Walter Huston did. James Stewart tested for the lead role of Wang Lung, which went to Austrian-born Paul Muni. Anna May Wong craved the role of O-Lan, which would have been a career capstone, but the era’s racial thinking intervened. Because the Hays Office would not allow mixed-race leads, the role went to German-born Luise Rainer. (Now try to imagine James Stewart’s drawl as he warns villagers about the approach of the locusts.)
Marie Antoinette (1938) – Spencer Tracy tested for Louis XVI, the part played by Robert Morley. This would have been Tracy’s first period role, and it is hard to imagine what he would do with it. Morley’s mannered performance has divided critics over the years, but his last visit with his family before his execution is powerful.
The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) – This was announced as a James Cagney picture in 1935, but Cagney left Warners in a contract dispute, and production was delayed. Robert Donat was offered the part, but Errol Flynn became the natural choice after he proved himself as a box office draw. It is fun to imagine Cagney bounding about in tights and tweaking Basil Rathbone’s nose. Guy Kibbee was originally set for the Friar Tuck role, which finally went to Eugene Pallette.
Dark Victory (1939) – The play was bought by David O. Selznick for Merle Oberon, but sold to Warners who, with misgivings, prepared it for Bette Davis, who was eager to do it. Basil Rathbone tested for the George Brent part (Dr. Steele), but felt so bad about the test that he wrote an unusual letter to Jack Warner, full of apologies and imploring that the test footage be destroyed. The letter is printed in full in Rudy Behlmer’s indispensable Inside Warner Brothers.
Gunga Din (1939) – The producers wanted Sabu as Gunga Din the water boy, but he was unavailable. Sam Jaffe, age 47, who had played age 200 in Lost Horizon, got the part.
The Women (1939) – Myrna Loy was considered for the role of Crystal Allen, the maneater. Joan Crawford campaigned for the part, got it, and nailed it. It is hard to imagine Loy playing it with the proper bite and aggression.
Stagecoach (1939) – John Ford lobbied for John Wayne as the Ringo Kid, but Wayne was defined by the dozens of B films he’d done, and producer Walter Wanger wanted Gary Cooper. In the end, Cooper was too expensive; Bruce Cabot tested but was passed over for Wayne, who used Stagecoach as his exit from B films.
Of Mice and Men (1939) – Director Lewis Milestone wanted Broderick Crawford to play mentally challenged Lennie. Lon Chaney Jr. had played Lennie on stage and longed to play him in the film. Milestone agreed to test him, and Chaney excelled in the part. It is easily his finest hour in movies. Flash forward: Chaney returned to horror films of decreasing quality, and Broderick Crawford waited a further ten years for his breakthrough role in All the King’s Men (1949).
Wuthering Heights (1939) – Walter Wanger planned it as a project for Charles Boyer and Sylvia Sidney, which sounds like a bizarre team. He rethought the Cathy role for Hedy Lamarr, had a falling-out with Hedy and considered Katherine Hepburn, who was then unfortunately in her box-office poison phase. Bette Davis tried to interest Warners in the property, but ultimately Goldwyn bought it for Merle Oberon.
The Wizard of Oz (1939) – MGM used Judy Garland (age 16) as Dorothy when Shirley Temple (age 10) was unobtainable. MGM was set to trade Gable and Harlow as a package (in 1937) to obtain Temple, but Harlow’s death voided the deal. Bonita Granville and Deanna Durbin were also considered. The wicked witch was at first assigned to slinky Gale Sondergaard. Buddy Ebsen started the shoot as the Tin Man, but nearly died after inhaling aluminum powder from his makeup. A paste formula was used on his replacement, Jack Haley. W. C. Fields was considered for the wizard, but lost the part either because of his salary demand or because he was working on You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man (1939).
Gone with the Wind (1939) – Scarlett O’Hara was the plum female part of the decade. Actresses who were said to be considered for Scarlett (an asterisk denotes serious consideration, in Selznick’s memos) include Lucille Ball, Tallulah Bankhead\*, Marguerite Churchill, Claudette Colbert, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Ellen Drew, Irene Dunne, Katherine Hepburn\*, Miriam Hopkins\*, Doris Jordan\*, Carole Lombard, Norma Shearer, Ann Sheridan, Margaret Sullavan, and Loretta Young\*. Apparently, Marjorie Main was busy. Actresses who screen-tested for the part include Jean Arthur, Diana Barrymore, Joan Bennett, Frances Dee, Paulette Goddard\*, Susan Hayward, and Lana Turner. Jeffrey Lynn, who was briefly considered for Ashley, appeared in several of these tests, which have turned up in documentaries in the past 30 years. Janet Gaynor was a strong contender for Melanie, but would not scale back her fee. Judy Garland was on Selznick’s short list for Carreen O’Hara, the part finally played by Ann Rutherford. On the Aunt Pittypat front, Billie Burke was first choice, but could not commit to a long shoot. The role was handled capably by Laura Hope Crews.
Next column: The Casting Trampoline Part II (1940-1969).