Orry, in fact, makes this period of his life sound like an Australian Toulouse-Lautrec painting - or as he puts it, the girls resembled ‘Aubrey Beardsley drawings or the wild mysterious plumed birds of the Australian bush’. By pawning his suits (‘with the exception of the cross-bar tweed and my grey homburg’), however, and with the proceeds from appearing in a chorus line, he booked passage to America, arriving in New York in 1924 - the era of ‘cloche hats, beaded sheaths and rolled stockings’.
He appeared briefly on stage with Bela Lugosi, but was soon out of work.
Plus Cary Grant - who never did play the East Coast vaudeville circuit. Orry couldn’t believe it when his old friend presented him with a bill for 0.48 - half his share, apparently, for meals in diners and so forth from their struggling days, on the rare occasion Archie Leach picked up the tab.
I mean, we’re not talking about the first car, first girlfriend, first job, and graduation kind of milestones here either…this is something on a accomplished acting career thus far.
Because his performance was so historically accurate to the original Clyde Thompson, Ward (recently) earned himself the award for at the Indie FEST Film awards in Florida.
This doesn’t surprise me, in fact, I predict this to be the start of a successful string of awards to come.
Despite being the head of the costume department at Warner Bros., for example, Orry immediately enlisted when World War II broke out.
Astonishingly, his IQ turned out to be the lowest recorded for any soldier in the American army, ‘including a handful of Mexicans who couldn’t speak English’. Robinson was a Portuguese pirate, turned Bette Davis into Queen Elizabeth I and transformed Tony Curtis into such an alluring female in Some Like It Hot, the crew gave the actor wolf whistles.