by Stephen Vagg
We’ve done a lot of entries in this series on the leads in 1960’s Where the Boys Are – Dolores Hart, Paula Prentiss, Connie Francis, Yvette Mimieux, Jim Hutton. It’s time to round it off with a piece on George Hamilton, the last person from that movie that you could argue was “not quite a movie star” (well, apart from Sean Flynn who has a bit part, but we actually haven’t seen any Sean Flynn movies).
Hamilton’s been a long-time favourite of this magazine, in part because of his terrific turn as Dracula in Love at First Bite (1979), but also because of the sheer improbability and longevity of his career. A pretty boy with limited natural acting talent and no training, but a great gift for socialising and networking, not to mention a determination to be the next David Niven, he managed to survive an incredible amount of flops to not only forge an entirely decent career of sixty plus years, but also evolved into a very good actor. According to John Milius, who (re)wrote Evel Knievel for Hamilton, the actor described himself as a “first rate conman” – and Hamilton’s life is littered with conman escapades, whether sweet-talking his way into a part that had already been given to another actor in Light in the Piazza, getting out of Vietnam era war service by dating Lyndon Johnson’s daughter, romancing Imelda Marcos, or being Elizabeth Taylor’s handbag. In amongst that, he made some decent movies too.
Hamilton was born in Memphis Tennessee in 1939. He had a colourful upbringing with his (mostly single) mother and brother – so colourful that they were turned into a 2009 film, My One and Only with Renée Zellweger as mum and Logan Lerman as young Hamilton.
Hamilton was a handsome young man, and like many handsome young men, thought that he ought to be in pictures. He received a big break relatively quickly – no stints in summer stock or the Actors’ Studio for Hamilton, he went straight into a lead role, and quite a classy one at that, albeit on a low budget: a modern day adaptation of Crime and Punishment, called Crime and Punishment USA (1959). It was directed by Denis Sanders, whose short film A Time Out of War had won an Oscar, and who went on to an interesting, not quite fulfilled career, which included War Hunt which was Robert Redford’s feature debut. According to Hamilton, he was cast partly because he looked like Tony Perkins, who had then cornered the market in sensitive nervous men until Psycho turned him into something else.
Crime and Punishment USA is one of those films you describe as “interesting” rather than good, but it’s always watchable; Hamilton’s performance is indeed a little Tony Perkins-esque; to be honest, it’s all over the shop, sometimes effective, other times less so. It really is kind of amazing that someone who became famous for his suntan and lifestyle made his debut in such an arty production. Two random factoids – Roger Corman had money in the film, and Sanders signed Hamilton to a long-term contract.
The film took some time to be released – meaning that Hamilton had to appear in some TV episodes on shows such as The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin and Cimarron City. When Crime and Punishment USA did come out, it didn’t do well at the box office, but it was at least a classy flop and was seen by executives at MGM (Sanders was at one stage attached to direct The Subterraneans) who cast Hamilton in MGM’s expensive horny Southern melodrama, Home from the Hill (1960) directed by Vincente Minnelli. Hamilton played the bad son of bad Robert Mitchum, opposite good son George Peppard. Hamilton’s inexperience was once again rather crudely exposed, but he did have a charisma and effective moments, and he’s well used. The film was a hit (though it lost money because of its high cost) and MGM signed both Hamilton and Peppard to long term contracts.
MGM really tried to do the right thing by Hamilton – the studio was then under the management of head of production Sol Siegel and president Joseph Vogel (whose regime ultimately crashed on the rocks of Cimarron, The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and Mutiny on the Bounty) and we think that they regarded the actor as one of their special projects. They had an investment in his success.
Thus, Hamilton – after unsuccessfully auditioning for the lead in The Time Machine, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and a support part in Cimarron – was put in another horny Southern melodrama, this one with Robert Wagner and Natalie Wood, All the Fine Young Cannibals (1960). It’s not a very good movie – director Michael Anderson seems ill at ease with the material, which needed a Douglas Sirk, and the talented cast are allowed to over act. The film flopped, though it did inspire the name of the band Fine Young Cannibals.
More popular was Where the Boys Are (1960), where Hamilton played the rich f*boi who romances smart Dolores Hart. Hamilton disliked making the movie, correctly ascertaining that it wasn’t much of a part (he was essentially The Boy – a reward for the lead girl), but it was and is one of his best films, and he and Hart play wonderfully together: you sense their characters might even have a future as a couple. Hamilton and Hart should have been teamed again but it never happened – indeed, Hamilton didn’t appear in any of those Where the Boys Are knocks offs such as Come Fly with Me, aside from a cameo in Looking for Love (1964).
Hamilton had higher aspirations – he wrote in his memoirs that this was in part to impress the family of his then girlfriend Susan Kohner (who was in Imitation of Life and All the Fine Young Cannibals, and later gave birth to Paul and Chris Weitz). This led him to play an evangelist in Angel Baby (1961) – an interesting project, and troubled production (director Hubert Cornfield was replaced by Paul Wendkos). Hamilton is extremely good; co-star Burt Reynolds is terrific. The movie tries to do something smart, European even – doesn’t get there (the script is wonky) but it’s really interesting and worth watching.
United Artists borrowed him to appear in their horny melodrama, By Love Possessed (1961), which should have been fun, but suffered from a miscast director (John Sturges), producer (Walter Mirisch) and star (Efrem Zimbalist Jnr, who is the real lead – Lana Turner was top billed but doesn’t have much to do). Melodramas are harder to make than they look; Hamilton was ideal for the genre, but two of the three that he’d been in had been bad.
MGM tried to toughen up Hamilton’s image via a Western, Thunder of Drums (1961), with a fascinating cast (Richard Boone, Luana Patten, Charles Bronson, Richard Chamberlain). It has a decent story and Hamilton does quite well, but director Joseph Newman’s handling is no more than routine (second tier directors would plague Hamilton’s career).
Here’s a clip where we’re meant to believe Hamilton beats Bronson in a fight.
Needing a decent film, Hamilton lobbied heavily to play the Italian lover of the developmentally delayed Yvette Mimieux in Light in the Piazza (1962). The film was solidly received critically and commercially – it lost money but has had a long life, and was adapted into a stage musical. Hamilton is very relaxed and likeable; his Italian accent liberated him as an actor, and it was his best performance to date. Director Guy Green admired Hamilton, and later regretted not casting the actor as Hayley Mills’ love interest in Pretty Polly (1967), a role played by Shashi Kapoor – he felt that Hamilton would have gotten the cynical nuances of the character (who was Indian, so Green wanted to put Hamilton in brown face we presume – we’re not sure that would’ve saved Pretty Polly).
Hamilton went into another Italian-set film, Two Weeks in Another Town (1962), MGM’s attempt to repeat the success The Bad and the Beautiful (1952), with many of that film’s collaborators (Vincente Minnelli, Kirk Douglas, Charles Schnee, John Houseman), though it flopped; Hamilton admitted that he felt miscast.
He then was very good in a strong film, as a GI in The Victors (1963), reunited with George Peppard, and romancing Romy Schneider and Elke Sommer. The film was a disappointment relative to its budget – it’s really bleak – but there are some scenes of great power and it features one of Hamilton’s best performances.
Hamilton was given another excellent chance when cast as Moss Hart in the film version of Hart’s memoir Act One (1963); however, a loving, entertaining book was sunk with lethargic handling from writer-director Dore Schary. Hamilton tries, but Schary gets him to play it in Dore Schary style – polite, well-mannered, conscientious – and he’s never convincing as a young struggling Hart. Too handsome. Too unlike a writer. Hamilton would’ve been perfect for the late period Hart – a darling of the social scene, well dressed, sophisticated – but not a young man on the make, he’s got no energy or chutzpah – George Segal, who plays Hart’s jealous friend, would’ve been better. But even Segal would have struggled under Schary.
Hamilton was in another biopic, Your Cheatin’ Heart, about Hank Williams, made by Sam Katzman, who typically specialised in B/C picture exploitation films. Hamilton got the role in part via his friendship with Colonel Tom Parker, aka Elvis’ manager, who introduced the actor to Williams’ widow, who was taken by the actor. We’d love to report that Hamilton was amazing in this film, and in some moments he’s quite effective, but he’s not very good; he’s never convincing as a star, singer, writer or doomed person. Admittedly, he’s not helped by the slack direction or poor script, which consists of a lot of drunken acting and squabbles with his wife, played without much flair by Susan Oliver. The movie wasn’t a blockbuster, but it became beloved; fans included President Johnson and his daughter, and the latter started dating Hamilton. This raised Hamilton’s profile and put him at the centre of pop culture, just as Peter Lawford’s marriage to JFK’s sister worked for him. (Hamilton and Lawford had many similarities in their lives and careers – tanned appearances, better known for private life than on screen credits – but Hamilton was a far superior actor.)
Hamilton was cast as Jeanne Moreau’s love interest in Viva Maria! (1965), replacing Alain Delon who had dropped out; it’s directed by Louis Malle who said Hamilton could be one of the greatest actors of his generation (!) but “he’s more interested in being in the social columns”. Hamilton had a fling with Moreau during the shoot. The film – which is hugely fun – was a hit in Europe and did alright in the US.
Hamilton received an offer to make a crime film in France, The Man from Marrakesh (1966). Always trying to class up his resume, he did A Farewell to Arms on British TV with Vanessa Redgrave. Back at MGM, he made a dim comedy with Sandra Dee, Doctor You’ve Got to be Kidding! (1967), one of the many movies that killed Dee’s career.
Hamilton was back in the saddle for A Time for Killing (1967), from a script rewritten by Robert Towne and directed by Roger Corman – who was fired during filming and replaced by Phil Karlson. Hamilton played a Confederate officer pursued by Unionist Glenn Ford. His role was originally offered to Warren Beatty, who rejected it; however, Beatty was impressed by Towne’s writing and got the latter in to script doctor Bonnie and Clyde. Hamilton tries in the movie and is quite good, better than Ford, who phones it in.
Inspired by the publicity of dating LBJ’s daughter, MGM gave Hamilton a real Cary Grant style part as a jewel thief in Jack of Diamonds (1967). If you’re in the mood for a cat burglar movie, this will hit the spot because it’s got every cliche/trope of the genre that your heart could desire: George Hamilton in an all-black outfit climbing down a wall during the opening credits, a wise old protege (Joseph Cotten), a beautiful rival female cat burglar (Maria Laforet) and her protege (Maurice Evans), a dogged detective to bring him down, a key jewel, European locations (ski fields, the beach), a big final heist, Hamilton has a trapeze in his apartment that he uses to work out, lots of fancy outfits, Hamilton is called “Ace”. But Hamilton doesn’t have the personality to carry this as a star. The truly great stars had the charisma to play versions of themselves; Hamilton didn’t have this. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t a good actor or not compelling on screen – it just means that he needed something to act.
Also for MGM, Hamilton made a thriller for George Pal, The Power (1968), playing a role long announced for Rod Taylor. This film was a disappointment, suffering from a limited budget, although it has its fans.
Hamilton hadn’t established himself as a star after almost a decade of trying. He went into TV for some glossy series that didn’t run: The Survivors (1969) (with Lana Turner) and Paris 7000 (1970). So, Hamilton took a leaf out of Warren Beatty’s book and turned producer with Evel Knievel (1971). He had originally meant to make a film about a bronco rider who became a bike rider, but became more interested in Knievel during the course of his research. The resulting movie was a lot of fun, with a skilled John Milius rewrite; it also showed that Hamilton could carry the movie if given a big, broad character to play.
Hamilton had a key support role in an MGM Western, The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing (1973), a film best remembered for the dramas during its production (star Sarah Miles was married to Robert Bolt but had an affair with Dave Whiting who committed suicide insane with jealousy over Miles possibly shagging co-star Burt Reynolds, and for a time the police thought Whiting may have been murdered).
Hamilton starred in another film that he produced, Medusa (1973), but it did not do as well as Evel. Hamilton was unable to raise finance for a biopic about 1920s oil industry con man C.C. Julian – he tried to raise funds for this for almost two decades but could never get the money, which is a shame since the role would have been perfect for him.
Hamilton spent the ‘70s doing the sort of things former names from the ‘60s did – TV movies (The Dead Don’t Die, Death Car on the Freeway, The Strange Possession of Mrs. Oliver), guest roles on series (Columbo, McCloud, Police Story), support parts in trashy pictures (Once is Not Enough, Sextette, The Happy Hooker Goes to Washington, From Hell to Victory). Some of these were fun – Death on the Freeway is a crackerjack little TV movie – but it seemed that Hamilton was on the express route to dinner theatre.
Then to everyone’s surprise, Hamilton turned his career around with the lead role in a smash hit – Love at First Bite (1979), a comedy riff on Dracula. Hamilton was involved in the movie’s development as producer and was richly rewarded when the film became a box officer sensation. “I feel like an old hooker who has been invited to the prom,” said Hamilton at the time. “They’re treating me like I’m a major star and I love it. I’ve spent all these years as a dark horse trying to cut through the pack.” In this interview, he also said “Looking back I think the one that buried me was Where the Boys Are”, which is a little ungrateful.
Hamilton was cast in another comedy spoof of an icon – Zorro the Gay Blade (1981). This was not as popular as Love at First Bite and Hamilton’s comeback was short lived. He was up for the lead in the TV series Hart to Hart when Robert Wagner was being pushy about money, but the producers decided to go with Wagner; according to Tom Mankiewicz, they felt people would resent George Hamilton for being rich, but they wouldn’t resent Robert Wagner. Maybe that wasn’t true, but it’s indicative of how Hollywood thought – despite the success of Love at First Bite, Hamilton wasn’t seen to have had the common touch. This presumably explains why he was never able to get finance for his Julian picture, or even a sequel to Love at First Bite.
Still, there was work on offer, especially TV (Malibu, Monte Carlo, Poker Alice, Spies). Hamilton was given a role in The Godfather III, playing a replacement character for Robert Duvall’s Tom Hagen and was very effective – in fact, the film would’ve been better with more of him. He had a hilarious cameo in Doc Hollywood (1991) and a terrific turn as William Randolph Heart in Rough Riders (1997) – again, one wishes for both films that his part had been bigger. He kept working almost constantly but the work is bits – cameos, TV guesties. He is still with us, by the way. He looks after himself very well.
What to make of George Hamilton’s movie career? First of all, the fact that he’s lasted so long is a tribute to his skill and professionalism. Second, it’s clear that he always had ambition – he was constantly trying to stretch himself, trying different genres, generating his own material; this has contributed to his longevity. He suffered from not working with top directors and big budgets; all too often, he’d have second rate filmmakers and movies which cried out for better production values. Finally, we think there was something unrealistic/cartoony about Hamilton’s persona that stopped him reaching the top. Now, this could work very well, such as when playing Evel Knievel and Count Dracula, but hurt him when playing a “regular” star part like a jewel thief. He seemed to struggle when playing ‘himself’ i.e. coasting on star charm – the way, say Burt Reynolds, could. He needed something to act, something to “chew on”. George Hamilton was one of those actors who was actually a character actor rather than a leading man – though he could be a leading man if playing a character role.
But look back at some of those films and performances – Godfather 3, Angel Baby, The Victors, Love at First Bite, Evel Knievel, Doc Hollywood, Light in the Piazza, Viva Maria. That is a damn fine track record and career.
