Doris Day Terry Melcher Scholarship Essays

Today, April 4, is Doris Day’s 92nd birthday. We offer our best wishes to one of our favorite multitalented stars by reprinting this tribute/overview originally posted in December 2015.

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Doris Day is so fused with her archetypal image that it’s easy to miss what a damn good actress she was.

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I was about eleven movies into a Doris Day marathon when I found myself thinking about Marlon Brando. The paradox of extraordinary acting is that it necessarily calls attention to itself: “Brando was so believable,” we gush. But if a performance is indistinguishable from the real thing, we shouldn’t be able to see it, right? Doris Day, who will be best remembered as the blonde, helmet-haired, had-it-up-to-here-with-him star of 1950s and ’60s romantic comedies with magnificent animated title sequences, hadn’t Brando’s ambition or depth, but she could hold an audience as well as anyone.

In 1975’s Doris Day: Her Own Story, a collaborative tell-all written by A. E. Hotchner, Jack Lemmon calls her “a method actress even though she never went to the Actors Studio or studied Stanislavsky,” and Rock Hudson – the Tracy to Day’s Hepburn, at least on screen – calls her “an Actors Studio all by herself.” This is not favor-repaying flattery: you can rarely see the seams in a Doris Day performance. It helps that she was, while pretty, undistractingly so – not a beauty so much as the possessor of a face lacking a dud feature (a bit of geometric luck often mistaken for beauty in the movie biz). Once she was no longer beholden to Warner Brothers’ picks for her, she undid the shackles of the taffy-brained nostalgia musical and seized on choicer parts that tested her range and endurance.

Screenshot from Romance on the High Seas

But even her Warner Brothers work was good, beginning with the multi-gigawatt delivery of her first line – “Greetings, chum” – in her first film, 1948’s Romance on the High Seas, in which she portrayed a low-rent nightclub singer as a walking glass of champagne in a whipped-cream-topping blonde wig. According to her book, after she was cast by the film’s Hungarian American director, Michael Curtiz of Casablanca fame, he discouraged her from using an acting coach: “Always there is Humphrey Bogart himself coming through every part he play. So with you. You have very, very strong personality. Is you. Is unique. That’s why I don’t want you to take lessons. You have a natural thing there in you, should no one ever disturb.” Day felt it too: “Movie acting came to me with greater ease and naturalness than anything else I had ever done.”

Steve Cochran, Doris Day, and Ginger Rogers in Storm Warning

While still with Warner Brothers, Day got her first entirely dramatic role, in 1951’s Storm Warning, as the girlfriend of a twitchy dimwit who, she finally realizes as the Ku Klux Klan menaces their small town, is a Klansman (duh). It might have been a thankless part for Day – the movie was really a Ginger Rogers vehicle – if Alfred Hitchcock hadn’t seen her in it. He told her at a party that he intended to use her one day, and he made good on his promise half a decade later by hiring her for 1956’s The Man Who Knew Too Much. (The Oscar-winning song she sang in the film – “Que Sera, Sera” – was both a plot point and a bone thrown to moviegoers who missed her song-and-dance pictures.) Day not only fit in with Hitchcock’s lineup of standard-bearing blondes (Kelly, Hedren, Novak); she bested them with her fluid delivery and her command of every scene she was in.

Poster for Julie

That same year, she was plausibly unhinged as a stalking victim in Julie, a thriller in which she played a stewardess (I do not mean a flight attendant). Day handled her zero-hour scenes in the cockpit supremely well, especially given that they had to have been grist for the mockery-making creators of Airplane! Hardly anyone saw her and Jack Lemmon in 1959’s It Happened to Jane (she and Lemmon blamed the title for the bad box office), but people should have come out for it: Day, at her sympathetically unsinkable best, played a widowed Mainer who raises lobsters for a living and takes on the Man, in the form of Ernie Kovacs. She received her only Oscar nomination for that same year’s Pillow Talk (she lost to Simone Signoret for Room at the Top), the first of three crowd-pleasers that paired her with Rock Hudson and pretty much sealed her fate as the girl no longer next door: Doris was in the house.

Doris and Rock: screenshot from Pillow Talk

She celebrated the move to sex comedies: “I had always felt that I was too contemporary-looking for all those period films I had made … In Pillow Talk, the contemporary in me finally caught up with a contemporary film and I really had a ball.” But she had her limits when it came to being coquettish on film: she turned down the role of Mrs. Robinson in 1967’s The Graduate because “it offended my sense of values.” Yet that film was hardly more preoccupied with sex than 1962’s That Touch of Mink, in which Day is paired with velvety predator Cary Grant. She played the era’s paradigmatic Pillar of Female Virtue, and the movie’s look is all elegance, crisp lines, and cool colors – bucket-of-cold-water blues and greens. But the plotline amounts to an hour and a half of Grant trying to get in her pants, with Day biting her knuckles over whether she can hold on to both her principles and her man. (Perhaps the premise is all the more tawdry because Grant, cinema’s forever paragon of guileful male charm, was pushing sixty when they released the film.) What’s at stake is Day’s hymen, putting That Touch of Mink in tastefulness terms alongside an episode of Three’s Company, but with better clothes. Much better clothes.

With bandleader Les Brown, July 1946. Licensed for the public domain by Wikimedia Commons.

Day detested her virginal image. She knew that “a ‘Doris Day movie’ had come to mean a very specific kind of sunny, nostalgic, sexless, wholesome film.” When the actor-musician Oscar Levant famously said of her, “I knew her before she was a virgin,” the world took them as fightin’ words. But Levant was on Day’s side. In her book she says, “I have the unfortunate reputation of being Miss Goody Two-Shoes, America’s Virgin, and all that, so I’m afraid it’s going to shock some people for me to say this, but I staunchly believe no two people should get married until they have lived together.” She loathed the pristine image in part because it was a lie – she was against artifice, from taking a stage name (she acquiesced, having been born Doris Kappelhoff) to faking orgasms – and in part because the image was impossible for someone with her biography to live up to.

Anyone committed to uncomplicatedly reminiscing about Day – who is today ninety-one by some estimates, ninety-three by others – as a living embodiment of the steel-willed characters she was known for would do well to keep a distance from the clear-eyed, sentimentality-averse Doris Day: Her Own Story. Poor judgment and worse luck, beginning during her Cincinnati childhood, resulted in a life story that is grim and a little creepy, even by Hollywood standards.

Three of four marriages failed, the first when Day had to ward off her musician husband’s blows while she was pregnant. (A more promising romance: for a while Day dated Ronald Reagan, twice her costar and about whom she says, “Ronnie was a very aggressive liberal Democrat at that time, and I approved of most of what he said.” Like Ronnie, Day would flip Republican.) Her seventeen-year third marriage to her unpopular and money-besotted manager, Marty Melcher (his detractors called him Farty Belcher), wasn’t going well when he died of a heart ailment; for too long he had resisted medical attention due to his too-literal adherence to Christian Science, to which the couple was devoted. Thanks to either his duplicity or imbecility – Day never knew which – Melcher invested her twenty-year-career’s worth of money with his business partner, Jerry Rosenthal, who turned out to be the Bernie Madoff of his time. After Melcher’s death, Day was flabbergasted to learn that she was financially ruined. She successfully sued Rosenthal and got much of her cash back.

With James Cagney: screenshot from Love Me or Leave Me

In her book, Day is quick to say that it’s a misconception that Christian Science forbids medical treatment in all circumstances. Still, the religion’s imperative to first try to will oneself well through spiritual healing was deadly in Melcher’s case and personally costly to Day, whose resistance to medical attention years earlier led to a hysterectomy at age thirty-two, eliminating the possibility of a second go at biological motherhood – something she said she dearly wanted. Already a lapsed Catholic, Day ultimately left Christian Science for “my own personal religion,” but she maintained a lifelong belief in predestination – que sera, sera, indeed – which was probably a psychological necessity, given the nightmarish real-life plot twists that popped up with the frequency of holidays.

If only it was just a script. Hospitalizations and accidents of the debilitating, bone-shattering kind figure prominently in her book. (Day said that all the crying she did primed her for when it was time to cry on film.) She outlives both siblings, who died young, as well as her only child, the music producer Terry Melcher, whom adoptive father Marty treated appallingly. Terry figured peripherally but chillingly in the Manson killings of 1969: he used to live in the house where the Tate murders took place, and word was that Manson had sent his people to go after Terry because Doris’s boy wouldn’t record his attempts at music. At police suggestion, Terry and his mother had bodyguards until the Manson trial was over.

With Lew Ayres on the set of The Doris Day Show. Licensed for the public domain from Wikimedia Commons.

Since her eponymous milquetoast sitcom went off the air in 1973 (Marty Melcher had committed her to the series without her say-so), Day has dedicated her life to activism on the pet population’s behalf, and no wonder. “I have never found in a human being loyalty that is comparable to a dog’s loyalty,” she says in her book, but then her lifetime’s sampling didn’t recommend the human animal. An offer to play the lead in television’s Murder, She Wrote failed to tempt her to return to public life. (Jean Stapleton had also passed on Jessica Fletcher, parting the waters for Angela Lansbury.) Throughout her book, Day insists that she never wanted fame and would have gladly exchanged her celluloid success for a happy home life. But such sentiments (“I’m just a hausfrau at heart”) have that touch of malarkey, of the guilt of career women of a certain generation. Day says a hell of a lot more convincingly, “It has been my good fortune that, at those times in my life when tragedy has struck, I have had to work.”

She made thirty-nine films and is the last surviving celluloid colossus of her generation other than Kirk Douglas, her onetime costar; her book attests that there was no love lost between those two. (If you’re a scorekeeper: Olivia de Havilland, eight years Day’s senior, is still with us.) Also still going is the great Carl Reiner, who made his screenwriting debut in 1963 with The Thrill of It All, the whoopee-preoccupied Doris Day–James Garner charmer, at least until the anti–working mom/pro-hausfrau message at the end.

Screenshot: the breakdown scene in The Man Who Knew Too Much

Day knew which of her movies were good and which stunk (The West Point Story was “a real idiot picture”), just as we do. Watch The Man Who Knew Too Much, especially for the scene in which Jimmy Stewart has to break it to her that their son has been kidnapped. Watch Please Don’t Eat the Daisies, in which she flails with unmistakable joy alongside a tornado of children presumably like the one the actress said she always wanted. Watch It Happened to Jane for her rat-a-tat exchanges with the lovesick Jack Lemmon, but especially for her masterful double take fifty-nine minutes into the movie, when she realizes that he is questioning – that’s right – her virtue. Watch the borderline unwatchable Caprice for Day’s no-nonsense spy shtick and state-of-the-art wardrobe. Watch her, and see how little you see Doris Day.

— Nell Beram

Nell Beram is coauthor of Yoko Ono: Collector of Skies and a former Atlantic Monthly staff editor. She wrote a tribute to Doris Day for Bright Lights Film Journal in 2015. Beram has written about Nora Ephron (for Salon), Mia Farrow (for The Women’s Review of Books), and Tippi Hedren (for V magazine).

Terry Melcher

Melcher at left, in the studio with the Byrds' Gene Clark (center) and David Crosby in 1965.

Background information
Birth nameTerrence Paul Jorden
Also known asTerry Day
Born(1942-02-08)February 8, 1942
New York City, New York, U.S.
DiedNovember 19, 2004(2004-11-19) (aged 62)
Beverly Hills, California, U.S.
Genres
Occupation(s)Record producer, session musician, songwriter
InstrumentsVocals
Associated acts

Terrence Paul Melcher (born Terrence Paul Jorden, February 8, 1942 – November 19, 2004) was an American musician and record producer who was instrumental in shaping the 1960s California Sound and folk rock movements, particularly during the nascent counterculture era. Melcher is also known for his involvement with cult leader Charles Manson, being one of the targets of the Manson Family during the late 1960s.

Melcher was the only child of actress/singer Doris Day; his father was Day's first husband Al Jorden, and was adopted by her third husband Martin Melcher. Most of his early recordings were with the vocal surf acts the Rip Chords and Bruce & Terry. Melcher's best known contributions were producing the Byrds' first two albums Mr. Tambourine Man (1965) and Turn! Turn! Turn! (1965), as well as most of the hit recordings of Paul Revere & the Raiders and Gentle Soul. In the 1960s, Melcher was acquainted with the Beach Boys, helping connect Brian Wilson to Smile lyricist Van Dyke Parks. Melcher later produced several singles for the Beach Boys in the 1980s and the 1990s, including "Kokomo" (1988), which topped U.S. record charts.

Early life[edit]

Terrence Paul Jorden was born in New York City to trombonist Al Jorden and his wife, singer-actress Doris Day. Known as "Terry",[1] the boy was named by his mother after the hero of her favorite childhood comic strip, Terry and the Pirates.[2]

Before the birth, Day was planning to divorce Al Jorden, due to his alleged abuse, and violent temper. Upon learning of his wife's pregnancy, Jorden had demanded that Day get an abortion. Shortly after giving birth, Day filed for divorce and left the infant with her mother in Ohio. Doris went back to touring with big band leader Les Brown and after the divorce, Jorden visited his son infrequently and had little presence in his life.[citation needed]

After divorcing her second husband, saxophonist George Weidler, Day married Martin Melcher, who would become her manager and produce many of her films. Melcher adopted Terry, giving the child his surname. In his freshman and sophomore high school years, Terry attended the Loomis Chaffee School in Connecticut, then returned to California for his junior and senior years at Beverly Hills High. He subsequently attended Principia College in Illinois for a short time. After Martin Melcher's death in 1968, Day discovered that Martin had mismanaged or embezzled twenty million dollars from her. According to Terry, Martin also mistreated him as a child.[3]

Career[edit]

In the early 1960s, Terry Melcher and Bruce Johnston formed the vocal duet Bruce & Terry. The duo had hits like "Custom Machine" and "Summer Means Fun". Melcher and Johnston also created another group, The Rip Chords, which had a Top 10 hit with "Hey Little Cobra". Later, Johnston would join the Beach Boys. By the mid-1960s, Melcher had joined the staff of Columbia Records and went on to work with the Byrds. He produced their hit cover versions of Bob Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man" and Pete Seeger's "Turn! Turn! Turn!", as well as their respectivealbums. Due to conflicts with the band and their manager, Melcher was replaced as producer by Allen Stanton and then Gary Usher, although he would later work with the Byrds again on their Ballad of Easy Rider, (Untitled), and Byrdmaniax albums. Melcher also worked with Paul Revere & the Raiders, Wayne Newton, Frankie Laine, Jimmy Boyd, Pat Boone, Glen Campbell, Mark Lindsay and the Mamas & the Papas. He was instrumental in signing another Los Angeles band, the Rising Sons, led by Taj Mahal and Ry Cooder.[4] Melcher also performed on the Beach Boys' platinum album Pet Sounds as a background vocalist, and introduced Brian Wilson to lyricist Van Dyke Parks in February 1966, beginning their partnership on The Smile Sessions project. Melcher was also a board member of the Monterey Pop Foundation and a producer of the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967.

Encounter with Manson family[edit]

Main article: Manson Family

In 1968, Beach Boy Dennis Wilson introduced Melcher to ex-con and aspiring musician Charles Manson. Manson and his "family" had been living in Wilson's house at 14400 Sunset Boulevard after Wilson had picked up hitchhiking Manson family members Patricia Krenwinkel and Ella Jo Bailey. Wilson expressed interest in Manson's music and also recorded two[citation needed] of Manson's songs with the Beach Boys.

For a time, Melcher was interested in recording Manson's music, as well as making a film about the family and their hippie commune existence. Manson met Melcher at 10050 Cielo Drive, the home Melcher shared with his girlfriend, actress Candice Bergen, and with musician Mark Lindsay.[5]

Manson eventually auditioned for Melcher, but Melcher declined to sign him. There was still talk of a documentary being made about Manson's music, but Melcher abandoned the project after witnessing his subject become embroiled in a fight with a drunken stuntman at Spahn Ranch.[3] Both Wilson and Melcher severed their ties with Manson, a move that angered Manson.[6] Not long after that, Melcher and Bergen moved out of the Cielo Drive home. The house's owner, Rudi Altobelli, then leased it to film director Roman Polanski and his wife, actress Sharon Tate. Manson was reported to have visited the house on more than one occasion asking for Melcher, but was told that Melcher had moved.[3]

On August 9, 1969, the house was the site of the murders of Tate (who was eight months pregnant at the time), coffee heiress Abigail Folger, hairdresser Jay Sebring, writer Wojciech Frykowski and Steven Parent by members of Manson's "family". Some authors and law enforcement personnel have theorized that the Cielo Drive house was targeted by Manson as revenge for Melcher's rejection and that Manson was unaware that he and Bergen had moved out. However, family member Charles "Tex" Watson stated that Manson and company did, in fact, know that Melcher was no longer living there,[7] and Terry's former roommate, Mark Lindsay, stated: "Everybody speculated that Manson sent his minions up there to get rid of Terry because he was angry about not getting a record deal. But Terry and I talked about it later and Terry said Manson knew (Melcher had moved) because Manson or someone from his organization left a note on Terry's porch in Malibu."[5]

At that time, Melcher was producing singer Jimmy Boyd's music for A&M Records. After initial tracks were recorded, the Manson murders took place, prompting Melcher to go into seclusion, and the session was never completed. When Manson was arrested, it was widely reported that he had sent his followers to the house to kill Melcher and Bergen. Manson family member Susan Atkins, who admitted her part in the murders, stated to police and before a grand jury that the house was chosen as the scene for the murders "to instill fear into Terry Melcher because Terry had given us his word on a few things and never came through with them".[3] In this aim, the Manson Family was successful. Melcher took to employing a bodyguard and told Manson prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi that his fear was so great, he had been undergoing psychiatric treatment. Melcher was the most frightened of the witnesses at the trial, even though Bugliosi assured him that "Manson knew you were no longer living (on Cielo Drive)".[3]

Later years[edit]

Melcher again acted as producer for the Byrds on Ballad of Easy Rider, their eighth album, released in November 1969 (see1969 in music).[8] The album peaked at No. 36 on the Billboard charts. At the time it was met with mixed reviews but is today regarded as one of the band's stronger albums from the latter half of their career.[9]

In the early 1970s, Melcher was the producer of the Byrds' 9th and 10th albums, (Untitled) and Byrdmaniax. But the results on Byrdmaniax were not well received; one critic referred to the album as "Melcher's Folly", due to his heavy overdubs of horns and strings, done without the knowledge of the band. During this time, he dabbled in real estate and served as the executive producer on his mother's CBS series, The Doris Day Show. He later recorded two solo albums, Terry Melcher and Royal Flush. In 1985, Terry co-produced the cable show, Doris Day's Best Friends, and worked as the director and vice president of the Doris Day Animal Foundation. He and his mother, to whom he remained close throughout his life, also co-owned the Cypress Inn, a small hotel in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California.[10]

In 1988, Melcher earned a Golden Globe nomination for co-writing the song "Kokomo" with John Phillips, Scott McKenzie and Mike Love. Recorded by the Beach Boys, the song was featured in the 1988 Tom Cruise film Cocktail, and hit No. 1 (the band's career fourth overall) on the Billboard Hot 100. The single was certified gold for U.S. sales of more than a million copies.[10] Melcher produced the band's 1992 studio record, Summer in Paradise, which was the first record produced digitally on Pro Tools.[citation needed]

Death[edit]

On November 19, 2004, Terry Melcher died at his home of melanoma, after a long illness. He was 62 and was survived by his wife, Terese, his son, Ryan Melcher, and his mother, Doris Day.[11]

References[edit]

  1. ^"Obituaries: Terry Melcher". telegraph.co.uk. The Telegraph (London, GB). November 23, 2004. Retrieved 23 August 2011. 
  2. ^McKay (January 1983). "Two Faces of Cincinnati". Cincinnati: 94. Retrieved 23 August 2011. 
  3. ^ abcde"Terry Melcher". The Daily Telegraph. London. November 23, 2004. 
  4. ^westcoastmusic: Terry Melcher dies, Terry Melcher passed away, legendary artist who worked with the Beach Boys, the Byrds, Ry Cooder
  5. ^ abNancy Adamson (2013-06-08). "Mark Lindsay talks about new music, cats and Charlie Manson". Midland Reporter-Telegram. 
  6. ^Charles Manson. Charlie. The Charles Manson Family. Cielodrive.com: The Story of the Manson Family and their Victims, cielodrive.com; accessed March 17, 2017.
  7. ^Chapter 14 Helter Skelter I (August 8-9): Will You Die For Me?Archived 2010-11-19 at the Wayback Machine.
  8. ^Rogan, Johnny. (1998). The Byrds: Timeless Flight Revisited (2nd ed.). Rogan House. pp. 542–547. ISBN 0-9529540-1-X. 
  9. ^"Ballad of Easy Rider review". Allmusic. Retrieved 2010-02-06. 
  10. ^ abBlog of Death: Terry Melcher, blogofdeath.com; accessed March 17, 2017.
  11. ^Doris Day's beloved son Terry Melcher dies at 62..., dorisdaytribute.com, November 25, 2004.

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