HOLLYWOOD’S ROYALTY ROUGHS IT

Bette Davis and Lillian Gish were holding each other tightly as they stood on the edge of a treacherous cliff, two frail figures at the mercy of the wintry, Atlantic wind, waiting once more for the movie cameras to roll.

“Do you want to rest, or do it again?” called director Lindsay Anderson, before taking a second shot.

“No, let’s get it over with,” Davis called back.

“All the things we have done have prepared us well for this, haven’t they?” Davis asked Gish.

“Oh, yes, we’ve been well prepared,” Gish said softly, nodding her head in agreement, and adding, “There were no stunt men, and we worked quickly.”

“Yes, that’s the way it was in the early days of motion pictures,” said Davis, before the second and final “take” of the shot.

“You look at these women, and you see the whole history of motion pictures,” said Anderson’s 24-year-old assistant, Marc Sigsworth, who was in awe of the pioneering film actresses.

The history of motion pictures was on many minds here during the shooting of “The Whales of August.” In addition to Gish--whose career stretches from D. W. Griffith’s silents to this, her 105th film--and Davis, the film features veteran actors Ann Sothern and Vincent Price. The $3-million film, which is due to be released by Alive Films some time next year, recently wrapped after eight weeks’ shooting on this rugged island location, a rough 45 minutes by boat from Portland, Me.

“It’s been a film buff’s dream,” said Harry Carey Jr., the fifth and youngest member of the small cast, himself a 40-year veteran of films, including 57 Westerns. Carey’s father was a pioneering film actor and star of numerous films by John Ford, a native of nearby Portland.

“The first day I worked, I walked into the room, and there was Bette Davis, Lillian Gish, Ann Sothern and Vincent Price, and for a cowboy actor that’s quite a jolt,” said Carey, sounding as enthusiastic as the unusually youthful, non-union crew confined to a remote island to make a movie with “the people who invented the movies.”

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because of the combination of extraordinary elements that have come together here,” said Sigsworth, who, like Anderson, is British. “The history, personalities, and techniques of these actors are very different, and they also represent virtually every film genre: silents, melodrama, Westerns, musicals, comedy and horror films.”

The low-budget film, by first-time scriptwriter David Berry, from his own play, is set on a Maine island during a two-day period in 1954. It focuses on Gish’s character and the difficult, demanding blind sister for whom she cares, played by Davis. Sothern plays a good-natured, but lonely lifelong friend and island neighbor of the two sisters, and Price plays a ruthless, Russian emigre in search of a home.

The conflict revolves around the characters’ confrontations with timeless questions of old age and how to carry on. Anderson, director of such socially conscious films as “This Sporting Life” and “If. . . ,” said the title refers to the whales that once visited the Maine coast. Their disappearance, due to modern development, is a symbol of change.

A new generation of actors has also been cast in “Whales.” Mary Steenburgen, Margaret Ladd and Tisha Sterling appear in a flashback scene as the Gish, Davis, Sothern characters, respectively. Sterling is the daughter of Sothern and actor Robert Sterling.

“It’s a story of survival, and we are all survivors, by God, all of us,” said Sothern, adding, “we have all been at it for a long time.

The extraordinary and long careers of all five actors were literally on display here with regularly scheduled on-island screenings of their films: Gish’s “The Wind,” Davis’ “All About Eve,” Sothern’s “Lady, Be Good,” Price’s “The Raven” and Carey’s “Wagon Master.”

But most of the attention was focused on the three actresses. “Lillian and Bette are the royal queens of the cinema, and I guess I’m the royal princess,” said Sothern, pointing out that, at 67, she is the youngest of the three women.

Members of the young film crew often spent their free evenings playing poker with the gregarious Sothern, who brought her own chips. Or, on the set, during breaks and camera setups, they could be found lounging in the sun browsing through a new picture book about Davis, “Bette Davis: A Celebration,” or through Gish’s autobiography, “The Movies, Mr. Griffith and Me.”

Often, when the actresses were on the set and free for a few moments, members of the crew could be heard reminiscing with Davis about her Warner Bros. days, or seated reverently at Gish’s feet listening to her reminiscences of Griffith, Charles Chaplin, or other film history. . . . “You know, as a child I played with Sarah Bernhardt,” she said, out of the blue, during one spontaneous session. “Of course, I couldn’t understand, because I couldn’t speak French. . . .

“Who do you think is the best actor in the English-speaking world?” she asked a rapt, silent young audience on another occasion. “Why, that’s easy,” she answered for them, “Sir John Gielgud.”

“A lot of us on the crew have stuck this out because of the great respect we all have for these three women,” said production coordinator Janice Reynolds, referring to the remote, no-frills location. “There have been difficulties, but (the actresses) haven’t been all that demanding, and certainly not as demanding as some of the younger actors we’ve all worked with who have reached so-called stardom early and are already used to all the comforts and perks that come with it.

“These women are sitting up here in their houses, with a companion, or sometimes alone, and every once in a while they call to ask us to bring something to them, usually something like decaffeinated coffee,” said Reynolds.

The warm relationship developed over eight weeks between the actresses and the crew was evidenced one day after Sothern’s last shots in the movie, when she made a spontaneous speech: “I’ve done a lot of movies, but never with a more solicitous, dedicated crew than you guys. I’ve had a wonderful time, and I’ll never forget you,” she said.

“And we’ll never forget you !” responded Gish.

Said Sothern privately, on a more serious note, after she left the set: “How do we know that this is not going to be the last hurrah for all of us?”

Although all three women obviously had been as generous in spirit with the young crew as they were with their rare, private time with a reporter, they apparently interacted very little with each other or with the other actors. Davis and Price, the only two actors previously to have worked together (“Elizabeth and Essex”), dined on two or three occasions. And Gish gave a farewell dinner party attended by Anderson and Davis (the other actors already had returned to their homes). But Carey expressed disappointment that there were not more occasions during which the actors “could sit around talking about the old days”--Davis later reeled at the suggestion. “Oh God, no,” she said.

“I think they are shy, and maybe lonely,” speculated Carey. But others on location cited the rough, trying, tiring shoot.

“Being on any film is sort of like being in jail,” said Davis. “You go home at night, and go to bed . . . you owe it to the picture. And all locations are miserable for the actor,” she continued, fondly recollecting the security of the Hollywood studio sound stages. “But living on an island is not for me.”

“Logistically, it has been a stinker,” said Sothern of shooting in the confined, usually cramped quarters of the cliff house chosen for the focal point of the activity in the film. “I’m not used to working this hard, and I don’t want to work this hard. I’ve earned the right to do only what I want to do, and I don’t need to work. I do it out of the need to be creative.”

“This is a rough location, and all of them are tired and need more rest than they are getting, especially Lillian,” said Gish’s longtime assistant, Jim Frasher, pointing out that Gish, who officially celebrated her 86th birthday on-location here (reports suggest she could be as old as 93), committed to the project when she was five years younger and stronger.

It was in 1981 when the film’s co-producer, Mike Kaplan, first saw Berry’s play at the Trinity Square Repertory Theater in Providence, R.I. He said he immediately saw it as a vehicle for Gish, whom he first met 18 years ago while working as a publicist on MGM’s “The Comedians,” and possibly for Davis as well. Kaplan recounted the usual struggle to find interest and funding for the specialized film, which he determined to make without the obligatory “sure-fire box-office” star. He said Gish committed to the film soon after he took her to see an Off-Broadway production of the play, and that Anderson agreed to direct shortly thereafter. He said Davis declined the first time she was offered the role, but had agreed by the time he made his last rounds to the major Hollywood studios, including MGM, Paramount, 20th Century Fox and Warner Bros.

Kaplan also said that Sothern was considered for her role early on and that John Gielgud was the actor first considered for the role now played by Price.

“All the studio people said they liked the film, but ,” recalled Kaplan, who said he got all the “classic reasons” for rejections, such as the fact that “people don’t want to see a movie about old people,” or the fact that there was no “Jane Fonda role,” as in “On Golden Pond,” to add a youthful point of view. But the project finally came together last spring with the formation of Alive Films (the result of the split-up of Island Alive Films). Kaplan is president of marketing for Alive and is co-producing this, his first film, with Alive’s co-chairman Carolyn Pfeiffer.

Gish, Davis and Sothern all credited Kaplan for keeping the film project going, and Alive for taking what Davis referred to as “a tremendous box-office gamble.” They all expressed hope, but also great skepticism, that in today’s movie market, the film would be a success.

“I didn’t do it because it was a gamble, I don’t want to gamble anymore, I want to make money,” Davis said candidly, adding “and frankly, I think there are enough movies with old people--sometimes I think there are too many--thank you very much. I did it because it was a good script and a good part. I don’t know why I changed my mind, I just did,” she said. She also thought “it would be nice” to make a theatrical film after an eight-year absence, during which she endured a stroke, a mastectomy and a major hip operation.

Gish declined to talk about the film in any detail. “I haven’t seen it, it isn’t finished, I don’t know what it’s like, and I won’t know until I do see it,” said Gish, noting that she does not see daily rushes of her films, because “I think I’d look terrible and would be discouraged.” She said she committed to the role because she liked the idea of whales, and because she couldn’t say no to “a fine, dear face” like Kaplan’s. “I never thought at all about the character.”

Gish had returned to her island quarters after a 12-hour, nearly non-stop day on the set, changed into a full-length, green velvet lounging gown and was rushing a visitor over to a picture window overlooking Casco Bay to catch the sunset.

“Now, if you want an interview, just ask me questions,” said Gish as if following an obligatory routine of her 81-year-long career, but with her mind and her voice still clear as crystal.

“I started working so young (at age 5) that I don’t know how to play,” she said, when asked how she coped with the strenuous schedule demanded of a leading role like her current one.

Throughout the day, shooting a cramped kitchen scene with Sothern, Gish demonstrated that there was more to her work. She moved slowly, and found difficulty remembering and hearing her lines, and she seemed passive, almost indifferent as she sat silently awaiting the call to “action.” But when the cameras rolled she seemed to switch on too, speaking her lines in the right mood, and looking into the right light at just the right time, as though she knew exactly what to do--meticulously, professionally and effortlessly. At one moment, Sothern was overheard whispering to Gish, “It’s an honor to act with you, darling.”

“She is completely unique,” said Anderson. “These are not just Hollywood stars,” he said of the all three actresses, “they are artists .”

Sothern, who has not made a feature film since 1976, when she suffered a severe back injury in a stage mishap, was the opposite of Gish on the set. Feisty, and appearing to move in a whirlwind, despite the fact that she actually moved very slowly and only with the aid of a cane, Sothern demonstrated her experience as an actor on stage and in 75 films, as well as a production executive on her long-running (nearly 200 episodes) TV series. “It’s a damned good thing we know what we’re doing,” she growled, at the reminder of “too little rehearsal time.

“I know about production, I know how to cut a film,” she said, acknowledging that she and Anderson “have had it on a couple of times.

“But it all comes down to respect. There have been no big ego clashes here,” she said.

Everyone on location would not have said the same about Davis. “She is difficult,” said one after another of those who worked closely with her, from the unit photographer, to British production designer Jocelyn Herbert, to Anderson. They also all called her “totally professional.”

“She is considerable ,” acknowledged the director, himself a strong, opinionated, willful personality, who was reported by Harry Carey Jr. to be “losing, about 36 to 8” in regular conflicts with Davis. “She’s always testing you,” added Anderson, “but once you’ve passed, it’s OK.

“I think she sees the world as the enemy, and you have to go through a certain process with her,” he continued, attributing her outlook “part to temperament, having been born this way, and part to the experience of having to fight all those years in Hollywood.”

Toward the end of a difficult day’s shooting, during which she gave what Anderson called “a brave and serious performance” as the old, silver-haired blind woman, Davis agreed to put a reporter to her test. Earlier, she had put the entire company to the test, by declining to shoot a scene that had been planned and carefully set up for the day, because the wig she was to wear in a close-up shot did not suit her. She worked out a compromise shooting schedule with the crew, however, resulting in little waste of time or money. Said Kaplan: “She knows what we have to get done, maybe more than anybody does.”

Having changed from her dowdy costume into a chic gray slacks and silk blouse, and draped in a full-length mink coat, Davis seemed strong and indomitable as ever as she sat alone with the reporter in a rustic room off the set and proceeded to take control of an interview. Chain-smoking, she brushed aside attempts to discuss the challenge of her latest role--”it’s not so tough, although I guess photographing me without my eyes is totally different”--and she also cooly cut off an attempt to discuss the history represented by the five actors on the location.

“You can’t talk about Miss Gish and me together,” she snapped. “It’s all totally different. She’s 81 years an actress, starting in the silents. It’s fun that we’re working together, but there is nothing similar in our backgrounds. . . . “Well,” she added, on second thought, “she did start in the theater, which I never knew until I read her book here, and her mother was a tremendous help to her, just as mine was to me. But we are totally, totally different actresses.

“Of course Miss Sothern is a terrific addition (to the film), and she’s great in it . . . so is Vincent . . . and Harry Carey is marvelous as the handyman,” she continued. “And they’re all from Hollywood films, so I suppose we’re all coming from the same place.”

As the conversation continued, Davis gradually warmed up to her visitor. She would start looking directly at him, with her famous eyes, and intermittently, a horse laugh would interrupt the often-biting, but witty comments. At the risk of jeopardizing any rapport that had emerged, she was asked for her thoughts about being considered “difficult.”

“Well, if they hire me, and don’t know I can be difficult, it’s too bad,” she said, quickly adding, “but it’s not a question of being difficult. Sometimes, there is a very important issue at stake.

“Lately, if I feel that I am going to get into a big hassle on a film, I am apt to say to myself, ‘Forget it.’ You get lazy. Then, I give myself a talking to and say, ‘No, you must say something, you owe it to the film.’

“Today, for instance, my wig was not right. I thought to myself, ‘I am the one who is going to be seen up there (on screen),’ and that gave me great insecurity. I agreed to do a big, wide shot of the scene, because they had it all set up. And I thought, now, I suppose I should let them go on and do the rest of it. And then I thought, no, it would not be right. I wouldn’t be secure and I wouldn’t play it as well. I thought, I’ve done the rest of the scene, and now we’ll pick this up tomorrow.

“It all boils down to professionalism, which also means accepting a responsibility for the film,” she said, adding, “we’re much more professional, we older people who have been in this business for a long time.”

Outside in the encroaching cold of another sunset, Gish and Sothern, white from the cold and shivering, were preparing to shoot Sothern’s final scene. The crew was rushing to get the final moments of the day’s light, but Gish, apparently noting that the camera angle was not set correctly on her face, stopped everyone short by uncharacteristically speaking up.

“I’m looking up , not down, or else my eyes will look half closed,” she said, suggesting with a slight nod the correct angle. “Look through the camera,” she said to a skeptical but attentive and now dutiful camera crew. And with the adjustment made, she looked out at the Atlantic Ocean whitecaps as though she really could spot a whale. And the scene was quickly completed.

“Nobody needs to tell her how to do it,” whispered one young member of the crew to another. “She invented it.”