Olivia de Havilland Embodied Old Hollywood, and Shook it up

Olivia de Havilland posed in 2016 in Paris. (AP)
Olivia de Havilland posed in 2016 in Paris. (AP)
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Olivia de Havilland Embodied Old Hollywood, and Shook it up

Olivia de Havilland posed in 2016 in Paris. (AP)
Olivia de Havilland posed in 2016 in Paris. (AP)

She was one of Hollywood’s most glamorous stars and determined off-screen fighters. No one was better suited than Olivia de Havilland to play the sainted Melanie Wilkes in "Gone With the Wind" or more tenacious about the right to appear in the films of her choosing.

Fans and actors alike owe much to de Havilland, the Oscar-winning performer who became, almost literally, a law unto herself.

De Havilland, who died Sunday at 104, was one of the last survivors of Hollywood’s so-called Golden Age. She was beloved to millions as Wilkes in "Gone With the Wind, but also won Oscars for "To Each His Own" and "The Heiress" and challenged and unchained Hollywood’s contract system.

De Havilland died peacefully of natural causes at her home in Paris, publicist Lisa Goldberg said.

During a career that spanned more than 70 years, de Havilland was praised in roles ranging from an unwed mother to a psychiatric inmate in "The Snake Pit," a personal favorite. The doe-eyed actress projected both a gentle, glowing warmth and a sense of resilience and mischief that made her uncommonly appealing, leading critic James Agee to confess he was "vulnerable to Olivia de Havilland in every part of my being except the ulnar nerve."

The sister of fellow Oscar winner Joan Fontaine, with whom she had one of Hollywood’s most famous sibling rivalries, de Havilland was the last surviving lead from "Gone With the Wind." The 1939 epic, based on Margaret Mitchell’s best-selling Civil War novel and winner of 10 Academy Awards, is often ranked as the all-time box office champion (adjusting for inflation), but is now widely condemned for its glorified portrait of slavery and antebellum life.

The pinnacle of producer David O. Selznick’s career, "Gone With the Wind" had a dramatic and troubled back story. Three directors worked on the film, stars Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable were far more connected on screen than off and the fourth featured performer, Leslie Howard, was openly indifferent to the role of Ashley Wilkes, Melanie’s husband. But de Havilland, drawn to Melanie’s empathy and generosity, remembered the movie as "one of the happiest experiences I’ve ever had in my life. It was doing something I wanted to do, playing a character I loved and liked."

She was otherwise known as Errol Flynn’s co-star in a series of dramas, Westerns and period pieces, most memorably as Maid Marian in "The Adventures of Robin Hood." But de Havilland also was a prototype for an actress too beautiful for her own good, typecast in romantic roles while desiring greater challenges. Her frustration finally led her to sue Warner Bros. in 1943 when the studio tried to keep her under contract after it had expired, claiming she owed six more months because she had been suspended for refusing roles.

Her friend Bette Davis had failed to get out of her contract under similar conditions in the 1930s, but de Havilland prevailed, with the California Court of Appeals ruling that no studio could extend an agreement without the performer’s consent. The decision is still unofficially called the "De Havilland law" and made her as much a pioneer in the entertainment field as baseball star Curt Flood, who took on the game’s "reserve clause" binding players to teams, was in sports.

Fans of "Gone With the Wind" knew of her talent and determination. She was so anxious to play Melanie that she lobbied the wife of studio boss Jack Warner to receive permission to work for Selznick. When Selznick fired director George Cukor and replaced him with Victor Fleming, de Havilland continued to consult privately with Cukor (Leigh did the same). When Gable was reluctant to cry during one of the movie’s most emotional scenes, Melanie comforting Rhett Butler over Scarlett’s miscarriage, de Havilland helped talk him into it and provided unforgettable support on screen.

De Havilland was nominated for an Oscar for "Gone With the Wind" and went on to earn her own Academy Award in 1946 for "To Each His Own," a melodrama about out-of-wedlock birth. A second Oscar came three years later for "The Heiress," in which she portrayed a plain homebody (as plain as it was possible to make de Havilland) opposite Montgomery Clift and Sir Ralph Richardson in an adaptation of Henry James’ "Washington Square." Agee had noted a breakthrough in the 1946 drama "The Dark Mirror," writing that her performance was "thoughtful, quiet, detailed and well sustained."

She moved to Paris in 1953, "at the insistence" of her then-husband, Frenchman Pierre Galante, she told The Associated Press in 2016. "Hollywood had become a "dismal, tragic place" and she found no reason to return to the US.

In middle age and after, she appeared in several movies for television, including "Roots" and "Charles and Diana," in which she portrayed the Queen Mother. She also co-starred with Davis in the macabre camp classic "Hush ... Hush, Sweet Charlotte" and was menaced by a young James Caan in the 1964 chiller "Lady in a Cage," condemning her tormenter as "one of the many bits of offal produced by the welfare state." In 2009, she narrated a documentary about Alzheimer’s, "I Remember Better When I Paint." Catherine Zeta-Jones played de Havilland in the 2017 FX miniseries about Davis and Joan Crawford, but de Havilland objected to being portrayed as a gossip and sued FX. The case was dismissed.

Fitting for one of Hollywood’s most majestic stars, she spent her latter years residing in a town house near the Bois de Boulogne in Paris. One reason she liked Paris was because she could walk down the street without being bothered, at least until "Gone With the Wind" aired on French television.

In 2008, de Havilland received a National Medal of Arts and two years later was awarded France’s Legion of Honor.

She was born in Tokyo on July 1, 1916, the daughter of a British patent attorney, and as an adult openly envied the security she imagined Melanie enjoyed from a happy family life. The actress’ parents separated when she was 3, and her mother brought her and her younger sister Joan, to Saratoga, California. De Havilland’s own two marriages, to Galante and to Marcus Goodrich, ended in divorce. She had a child with each of them.

She is survived by one of those children, daughter Gisele Galante Chulack, along with son-in-law Andrew Chulack and niece Deborah Dozier Potter. Her funeral will be private.



Lalo Schifrin, Composer of the ‘Mission: Impossible’ Theme, Dies at 93

Grammy Award winning composer Lalo Schifrin appears at his studio in Beverly Hills, Calif., on May 10, 2006. (AP)
Grammy Award winning composer Lalo Schifrin appears at his studio in Beverly Hills, Calif., on May 10, 2006. (AP)
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Lalo Schifrin, Composer of the ‘Mission: Impossible’ Theme, Dies at 93

Grammy Award winning composer Lalo Schifrin appears at his studio in Beverly Hills, Calif., on May 10, 2006. (AP)
Grammy Award winning composer Lalo Schifrin appears at his studio in Beverly Hills, Calif., on May 10, 2006. (AP)

Lalo Schifrin, the composer who wrote the endlessly catchy theme for “Mission: Impossible” and more than 100 other arrangements for film and television, died Thursday. He was 93.

Schifrin’s sons William and Ryan confirmed his death to trade outlets. The Associated Press’ messages to Schifrin’s publicist and representatives for either brother were not immediately returned.

The Argentine won four Grammys and was nominated for six Oscars, including five for original score for “Cool Hand Luke,” “The Fox,” “Voyage of the Damned,” “The Amityville Horror” and “The Sting II.”

“Every movie has its own personality. There are no rules to write music for movies,” Schifrin told The Associated Press in 2018. “The movie dictates what the music will be.”

He also wrote the grand finale musical performance for the World Cup championship in Italy in 1990, in which the Three Tenors — Plácido Domingo, Luciano Pavarotti and José Carreras — sang together for the first time. The work became one of the biggest sellers in the history of classical music.

‘The most contagious tune ever heard’

Schifrin, also a jazz pianist and classical conductor, had a remarkable career in music that included working with Dizzy Gillespie and recording with Count Basie and Sarah Vaughan. But perhaps his biggest contribution was the instantly recognizable score to television’s “Mission: Impossible,” which fueled the just-wrapped, decades-spanning feature film franchise led by Tom Cruise.

Written in the unusual 5/4 time signature, the theme — Dum-dum DUM DUM dum-dum DUM DUM — was married to an on-screen self-destruct clock that kicked off the TV show, which ran from 1966 to 1973. It was described as “only the most contagious tune ever heard by mortal ears” by New Yorker film critic Anthony Lane and even hit No. 41 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1968.

Schifrin originally wrote a different piece of music for the theme song, but series creator Bruce Geller liked another arrangement Schifrin had composed for an action sequence.

“The producer called me and told me, ‘You’re going to have to write something exciting, almost like a logo, something that will be a signature, and it’s going to start with a fuse,’” Schifrin told the AP in 2006. “So I did it and there was nothing on the screen. And maybe the fact that I was so free and I had no images to catch, maybe that’s why this thing has become so successful because I wrote something that came from inside me.”

When director Brian De Palma was asked to take the series to the silver screen, he wanted to bring the theme along with him, leading to a creative conflict with composer John Williams, who wanted to work with a new theme of his own. Out went Williams and in came Danny Elfman, who agreed to retain Schifrin’s music.

Hans Zimmer took over scoring for the second film, and Michael Giacchino scored the next two. Giacchino told NPR he was hesitant to take it on, because Schifrin’s music was one of his favorite themes of all time.

“I remember calling Lalo and asking if we could meet for lunch,” Giacchino told NPR. “And I was very nervous — I felt like someone asking a father if I could marry their daughter or something. And he said, ‘Just have fun with it.’ And I did.”

“Mission: Impossible” won Grammys for best instrumental theme and best original score from a motion picture or a TV show. In 2017, the theme was entered into the Grammy Hall of Fame.

U2 members Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr. covered the theme while making the soundtrack to 1996’s first installment; that version peaked at No. 16 on the Billboard 200 with a Grammy nomination.

A 2010 commercial for Lipton tea depicted a young Schifrin composing the theme at his piano while gaining inspiration through sips of the brand’s Lipton Yellow Label. Musicians dropped from the sky as he added elements.

Early life filled with music

Born Boris Claudio Schifrin to a Jewish family in Buenos Aires, where his father was the concertmaster of the philharmonic orchestra, Schifrin was classically trained in music, in addition to studying law.

After studying at the Paris Conservatory, where he learned about harmony and composition from the legendary Olivier Messiaen, Schifrin returned to Argentina and formed a concert band. Gillespie heard Schifrin perform and asked him to become his pianist, arranger and composer. In 1958, Schifrin moved to the United States, playing in Gillespie’s quintet in 1960-62 and composing the acclaimed “Gillespiana.”

The long list of luminaries he performed and recorded with includes Ella Fitzgerald, Stan Getz, Dee Dee Bridgewater and George Benson. He also worked with such classical stars as Zubin Mehta, Mstislav Rostropovich, Daniel Barenboim and others.

Schifrin moved easily between genres, winning a Grammy for 1965’s “Jazz Suite on the Mass Texts” while also earning a nod that same year for the score of TV’s “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” In 2018, he was given an honorary Oscar statuette and, in 2017, the Latin Recording Academy bestowed on him one of its special trustee awards.

Later film scores included “Tango,” “Rush Hour” and its two sequels, “Bringing Down The House,” “The Bridge of San Luis Rey,” “After the Sunset” and the horror film “Abominable.”

Writing the arrangements for “Dirty Harry,” Schifrin decided that the main character wasn’t in fact Clint Eastwood’s hero, Harry Callahan, but the villain, Scorpio.

“You would think the composer would pay more attention to the hero. But in this case, no, I did it to Scorpio, the bad guy, the evil guy,” he told the AP. “I wrote a theme for Scorpio.”

It was Eastwood who handed him his honorary Oscar.

“Receiving this honorary Oscar is the culmination of a dream,” Schifrin said at the time. “It is mission accomplished.”

Beyond film and TV

Among Schifrin’s conducting credits include the London Symphony Orchestra, the Vienna Symphony Orchestra, the Israel Philharmonic, the Mexico Philharmonic, the Houston Symphony Orchestra, the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra and the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. He was appointed music director of Southern California’s Glendale Symphony Orchestra and served in that capacity from 1989-1995. Schifrin also wrote and adapted the music for “Christmas in Vienna” in 1992, a concert featuring Diana Ross, Carreras and Domingo.

He also combined tango, folk and classical genres when he recorded “Letters from Argentina,” nominated for a Latin Grammy for best tango album in 2006.

Schifrin was also commissioned to write the overture for the 1987 Pan American Games, and composed and conducted the event’s 1995 final performance in Argentina.

And for perhaps one of the only operas performed in the ancient Indigenous language of Nahuatl, in 1988 Schifrin wrote and conducted the choral symphony “Songs of the Aztecs.” The work premiered at Mexico’s Teotihuacan pyramids with Domingo as part of a campaign to raise money to restore the site’s Aztec temple.

“I found it to be a very sweet, musical language, one in which the sounds of the words dictated interesting melodies,” Schifrin told The Associated Press at the time. “But the real answer is that there’s something magic about it. ... There’s something magic in the art of music anyway.”

In addition to his sons, he’s survived by his daughter, Frances, and wife, Donna.