Gorgeous Eleanor Parker was one of Warners’ rare commodities—a delicate, blue-eyed beauty with a chameleon-like ability to transform herself into any character the studio assigned her to play. Equally adept at romantic comedy (Voice of the Turtle) and tense melodrama (Caged), Eleanor was labeled by publicists as “the Woman of a Thousand Faces.”
Yet for all her skills, Eleanor never attained the superstardom that critics and even her colleagues anticipated. Part of the fault lies with Warners, which often assigned her poor vehicles. It also didn’t help Eleanor’s cause that she didn’t play the Hollywood game: She preferred spending an evening at home with her family to being photographed in a nightclub. Neither was she one for doing cheesecake shots or giving out endless interviews to the fan magazines. With such a publicity-shy nature, she wasn’t likely to get the same sort of build-up by Warners that someone like Ann Sheridan received. But when she was given a good role, as in Interrupted Melody, in which she poignantly portrayed soprano Marjorie Lawrence, she was unforgettable.
Eleanor was born on June 26, 1922, in Cedarville, Ohio, where her father, Lester K. Parker, taught mathematics at the local high school. Eleanor was movie struck from the time she was five. Blessed with a vivid imagination, she did imitations of her favorite stars in the family living room and the backyard, and as she got older, wrote, staged, directed and starred in short plays. She also cast all the parts, always reserving the lead for herself.
“The other kids weren’t much interested, but that was all right with me. I just wanted to hear my own voice anyway,” she said.
By the time the Parkers moved to Cleveland in the mid–1930s, Eleanor was intent on being an actress. She was fortunate to have the support of her parents, who sent her to the Tucker School of Expression in Cleveland. When she was fifteen they let her go to Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts, where she spent two summers with the stock company of Tucker’s sister school, the prestigious Rice School of Expression. To support herself, Eleanor waited on tables.
“That’s where you learn about human nature,” Eleanor said in a 1955 interview. “Even though you’re one of a group, working toward a common goal, put on a uniform and you’re a waitress. It used to hurt me a little to be treated in such an offhand manner by boys and girls I knew by their first names in school, but luckily I had sense enough not to let it bother me. I accepted it as part of the price I had to pay.”
Eleanor’s hard work paid off with a bit in What a Life, before she decided to go back to Cleveland and finish her high school education. Upon graduating in 1940, Eleanor headed west and began studying at the Pasadena Playhouse, which is where she was discovered by a Warner Bros. talent scout. There are several accounts as to how she caught his attention. The first, and more probable, version is that she was appearing in a play and the talent scout was taken with her rich, throaty voice. A second version is that he spotted her in the audience and was struck by her green eyes, luscious reddish-brown hair and delicate skin.
Ravishing Eleanor Parker might have become a bigger star if she was willing to play the publicity game.
However it happened, Eleanor made a successful screen test and was signed by Warners three days later on her nineteenth birthday. Things began poorly when her bit in They Died with Their Boots On (1941), a loosely detailed biography of George Armstrong Custer, was deleted.
“I had to kiss my sweetheart off to battle,” she said later, “and the director said I was fine. But the picture—almost two and a half hours when finished—was too long for those days, and my whole part was cut out.”
Eleanor’s film debut instead was in a two-reel Technicolor short on the Army’s Medical Corps entitled Soldiers in White (1942), which was filmed at Fort Sam Houston in Texas.
Eleanor spent much of her first months at Warners under the tutelage of acting coach Sophie Rosenstein and her associates before making Busses Roar (1942), sort of a quickie version of Speed (1994). More ludicrous was The Mysterious Doctor (1943), about a Nazi disguised as a headless ghost who terrorizes a mining village and sabotages British war efforts. As laughable as it sounds, Eleanor suffered valiantly, no doubt wishing she was back in Army films.
Despite the inferior material Eleanor had been handed so far, she acquitted herself well, both from a dramatic and a photographic standpoint. As a reward, Warners at last put her in an ‘A’ film, Mission to Moscow (1943), the controversial drama based on Ambassador Joseph Davies’ book about his experiences in Russia. Walter Huston was cast as Davies, with Ann Harding as his wife and Eleanor as their daughter. Michael Curtiz was given directing chores.
According to Jack Warner, Mission to Moscow was made at the request of Franklin D. Roosevelt, who wanted support for the Russian war effort. What emerged on-screen, however, was unabashed propaganda that opened none-too-subtly with a prologue by the real Davies proclaiming the events in the film were “the truth as I saw it.” The rest of the movie chronicled his meetings with Russian leaders, a re-creation of the purge trials and visits to Russian factories.
Although some critics praised the movie as a brave and important achievement, others called it one of the biggest blunders in the studio’s history. Not only was Mission to Moscow a bust at the box office, but in 1947 Jack Warner and the film came under fire when he was forced to defend it before a congressional committee investigating Communism in the film industry.
Politics aside, the movie is well-crafted, with excellent reproductions of Russian settings and uniformly good performances. Huston was properly dignified and forceful as Davies, and Eleanor lbrought elegance to her role.
It was during the making of Mission to Moscow that Eleanor met Lieutenant Fred L. Losee, a Navy dentist who was a visitor on the set. Following a brief courtship, they were married on March 21, 1943. Unfortunately, the marriage didn’t last long, and they were divorced in December of 1944. During their divorce proceedings, Eleanor testified that Losee embarrassed her in front of their friends by stating that he couldn’t care less about her film career.
Eleanor’s next film should have been the Bette Davis-Miriam Hopkins clawfest Old Acquaintance (1943). Director Vincent Sherman wanted Eleanor to play Hopkins’ daughter in the latter half of the movie, but he was shot down by Warner, who explained that Dolores Moran had been cast in pre-production when Edmund Goulding was set to direct. Eleanor visited the set of Old Acquaintance frequently, and she and Sherman became good friends. Sherman once more attempted to work with Eleanor when he was making the telefilm The Last Hurrah (1979), but its star, Carroll O’Connor, did not think she was right for the part of his wife.
Instead of Old Acquaintance, Eleanor made Between Two Worlds (1944), an absorbing remake of Outward Bound (1930). The prestigious cast also included John Garfield, Paul Henreid, Faye Emerson, Sydney Greenstreet and Edmund Gwenn. The story concerns a group of dead passengers on a fog-enshrouded boat as they await their final judgment. Paul Henreid and Eleanor teamed up as two of the ship’s inhabitants, lovers who committed suicide.
The theatrical roots of Between Two Worlds are evident in its claustrophobic setting. Most of the action occurs on the ship, which makes the movie static and talky. A saving grace were the fine performances, notably Greenstreet as the judge and Gwenn as his assistant. Eleanor was touching, especially in her early scenes as she tries to stop Henreid from killing himself. More of an artistic endeavor than escapist fare, Between Two Worlds was a flop.
After toiling in the inconsequential Bs Crime by Night (1944) and The Last Ride (1944), Eleanor had her first leading role in The Very Thought of You (1944), a well-made wartime romance directed by Delmer Daves. Eleanor starred as Janet, a war factory worker who meets marine Dennis Morgan on a bus. She invites him home to meet her family, who, for the most part, give him a frosty reception. Despite her familial problems, the couple elopes and enjoys a brief honeymoon before he returns to active duty. While he is away, Janet becomes pregnant. Her child’s birth coincides with the news that her husband has been wounded in action. The movie ends awash in tears as the couple is reunited and Janet’s selfish family asks for her forgiveness.
The Very Thought of You struck a chord with wartime audiences. Though less effective than Vincente Minnelli’s The Clock (1945), which covered similar ground in greater depth, The Very Thought of You is an interesting timepiece depicting wartime marriage on the run. Eleanor’s sincerity helped the slight material stretch further than it would have in lesser hands. The New York Times called it a “distasteful and irritating picture” but thought, “Eleanor Parker is just the kind of sight any GI would be grateful for, even without spending two years in the Aleutians.”
Although Eleanor was treated pretty shabbily on-screen by Andrea King, who played her sister, the two became close friends when the cameras weren’t rolling. “Eleanor Parker was a dear to work with,” King said. “At the time I was doing The Very Thought of You I had found a new house, but it was about an hour and a half from the studio. Eleanor only lived about five minutes from the studio, so she asked if I’d like to stay with her while we were making the movie. It took about five weeks to shoot the movie. She was just wonderful.”
Eleanor’s cameo appearance in Hollywood Canteen (1944) was followed by one of her best roles—in Pride of the Marines (1945), a powerful, thought-provoking drama about a returning veteran. The movie was inspired by Roger Butterfield’s Life magazine article on Al Schmid, a marine who machine-gunned roughly two hundred Japanese soldiers during a fierce night attack on Guadalcanal. The price of Schmid’s heroism was the loss of his eyesight from an incoming grenade. Even after he was struck blind, Schmid refused to give up his position and continued to gun down the enemy by having a wounded buddy tell him where to point his gun.
To play Schmid, Warners chose John Garfield, in what may be his best role while under contract to the studio. Alexis Smith was the original choice to play his fiancée, Ruth, but Garfield took a shine to Eleanor during Between Two Worlds and requested her.
Pride of the Marines served as a warm-up for The Best Years of Our Lives (1946), but it is just as gritty in its depiction of the plight of returning war veterans. Albert Maltz’s hard-hitting script dealt believably with Schmidt’s difficult adjustment to his handicap—in particular, his fears that Ruth would now only see him as an object of pity. Maltz also deserves credit for his multi-dimensional treatment of the faithful Ruth, which Eleanor played beautifully. She is especially moving in the climactic scene when she pleads with Al not to leave her, and then rushes to his aid when he falls into a Christmas tree. “Eleanor Parker, given full opportunity, puts the beauty of a strong girl’s spirit into the role of Ruth Harley,” wrote reviewer Bosley Crowther.
After her sensitive performances in The Very Thought of You and Pride of the Marines, Eleanor seemed like an odd choice for Mildred, the shrewish Cockney waitress in director Edmund Goulding’s remake of W. Somerset Maugham’s Of Human Bondage (1946). To publicize the film, the April 30, 1945, issue of Life ran a two-page photo spread showing Eleanor in her Mildred characterization displaying various emotions, ranging from anger to pity.
Maugham’s portrait of obsession concerns lame medical student Phillip Carey (Paul Henreid), who becomes emotionally bound to Mildred Rogers, a Cockney waitress who is indifferent to him. Phillip gives up his chance at happiness with a successful novelist (Alexis Smith) who adores him because he is bound to Mildred. He is deeply hurt when Mildred runs off with his roguish friend (Patric Knowles), whose illegitimate baby she bears. Phillip takes mother and daughter into his home when they are deserted. He gradually begins to see Mildred for the pathetic wretch that she is, and feels little remorse for her when she finally dies. Phillip eventually finds happiness with Sally (Janis Paige), the daughter of his professor friend (Edmund Gwenn).
Catherine Turney adapted the novel for her screenplay but was only partially successful. Part of the problem lies with the novel itself. While in print, the attraction that Phillip has for Mildred seems more apparent; on-screen, in both the 1934 Bette Davis version and this one, it’s never clear why Phillip is so willing to submit to Mildred’s boorish and degrading behavior. Turney also went for a sunny ending, as opposed to the more somber and ambiguous finale of the first version.
Several critics were unimpressed with both the production and the stars’ performances. “Most of the reviews contrasted me unfavorably with Bette Davis in the original,” Eleanor told reporter Howard Thompson. “Some of them even accused me of imitating her walk. I really slaved to get a cockney accent of my own. I even wrote out phonetically and memorized it that way.”
Comparisons to Davis’ Mildred were inevitable, but at least Eleanor had one reviewer in her corner. “Miss Parker seemed to me a lot more plausible than Miss Davis as Mildred, possibly because she indulges less frequently in hyperthyroid hysterics,” said The New Yorker.
In fairness to both women, it seems ridiculous to compare their performances, since each offered her own unique interpretation. Though bitch roles were not Eleanor’s forte, her Mildred is surprisingly commanding. Sans makeup, and with tightly curled hair and dressed in tatters from the studio’s “rag bag,” Goulding stripped Eleanor of her usual glamour and refined manners. Eleanor has always ranked him among her favorite directors.
“Eddie usually acts out every part, even a baby’s, but I was the only one in the cast he just—well, suggested to that time,” Eleanor told The New York Times in 1953. “And I added what I got from [Maugham’s] book. Not that earlier picture. Then I hadn’t even seen it.”
Eleanor’s Mildred is appropriately exasperating and vulgar, but it is far from a one-note performance. She is equally effective in the film’s quieter moments, such as when she pleads with Philip to let her and her baby move in with him. And in one dynamic scene Eleanor is downright frightening as she destroys Philip’s apartment and slashes his artwork. Of Human Bondage only really seems to catch fire when Eleanor appears on-screen. Like the 1934 version, this remake was also a commercial disappointment.
Eleanor at this point was becoming disenchanted with the scripts she was being offered. She turned down the lead in Stallion Road (1947), a dreary romance among the horsey set, and was replaced by Alexis Smith. Then in August of 1945 she was once again on suspension when she refused to play a debutante masquerading as a dance hall girl in Love and Learn (1946). This time, newcomer Martha Vickers was Eleanor’s substitute. Such assignments clearly show that Warners just didn’t know how to cast Eleanor. After showing her ability to play fragile heroines, Warners should have been grooming her for deeper roles in that vein, such as the deaf mute heroine of Johnny Belinda (1948) or the shy mountain girl in Deep Valley (1947).
It was also during this lull when Eleanor married for a second time. On January 5, 1946, she eloped to Las Vegas with Bert Friedlob, who later produced The Fireball (1950), with Mickey Rooney, and The Star (1952), with Bette Davis. Eleanor, who yearned to start a family of her own, had three children during this union: daughters Susan and Sharon, born, respectively, in 1948 and 1950, and a son named Richard who arrived in 1952.
When Eleanor’s suspension was over she was thrown into Never Say Goodbye (1946), a sugary comedy about an artist (Errol Flynn) anxious to win back his ex-wife from the arms of a brawny soldier (Forrest Tucker). It took five screenwriters to pen the script, which relied on every cliché imaginable, including the old standby of having the couple’s too-cute-for-words daughter (Patti Brady) pretend to run away from home to reunite her parents.
Eleanor was back with Flynn in Escape Me Never (1947), an antiquated soap opera based on the novel by Margaret Kennedy. Eleanor played Fenella, an aristocratic beauty engaged to a reliable young man (Gig Young) but in love with his rakish brother (Flynn). Directed with a shaky hand by Peter Godfrey, Escape Me Never was unsure if it was supposed to be a comedy or a soap opera, and it failed in both respects. The New York Times tore the film to shreds, but said, “Eleanor Parker has our deepest sympathy.”
After the less-than-stellar triple play of Of Human Bondage, Never Say Goodbye and Escape Me Never, Eleanor was in desperate need of another film of the caliber of Pride of the Marines. When Warners purchased the rights to John Van Druten’s stage hit The Voice of the Turtle (1947), speculation immediately began over who would assume the starring role that won critical raves for Margaret Sullavan.
Ronald Reagan, who had the male lead, had appeared in two box-office duds—Stallion Road and That Hagen Girl (1947)—since his return from the service in 1945. In need of a hit, he tried to persuade Warners to borrow his friend June Allyson from MGM to play opposite him. Warner saw no reason to do MGM a favor and, to Reagan’s initial displeasure, cast Eleanor instead.
Alfred de Liagre, who had produced The Voice of the Turtle on Broadway, was also not happy about that decision. De Liagre had come to the West Coast to produce the film version but returned to New York after only a few weeks, claiming that the casting of the principals was not what he hoped for. While he did not “disparage the ability of Warner Bros.’ players,” he then added that Sullavan was the ideal choice for Sally. De Liagre was replaced by Charles Hoffman.
Then Van Druten, who wrote the screenplay and was to direct, also departed because of casting. His replacement, Irving Rapper, likewise voiced concern about Eleanor and was ready to go on suspension until Warner persuaded him to stay.
“I got me a shingle bob and a nervous stomach from the first two weeks’ shooting,” Eleanor told Howard Thompson. “Irving Rapper, the director, and I had a head-on blowup. Then we were good friends.” Rapper later told the press that he was grateful to his boss for making him do the picture, “since Miss Parker more than met the challenge.”
Reagan also revised his opinion about Eleanor. “It took only one scene with Eleanor for me to realize I’d be lucky if I could stay even,” he wrote in his autobiography.
Despite all the gloom-and-doom speculation, The Voice of the Turtle was a delightful romance between Sally, a starry-eyed budding actress, and Bill (Reagan), a soldier on a three-day pass. The two are thrown together when Sally’s flirtatious friend Olive (Eve Arden in a side-splitting performance) dumps Bill for another man (Wayne Morris). When Bill can’t get a hotel room, he ends up spending the weekend at Sally’s apartment. It all begins innocently, but as the two grow fonder of one another, they find it increasingly hard to resist temptation.
Sally Middleton was one of the highlights of Eleanor’s screen career. She displayed impeccable timing and also showed a knack for physical humor with her unusual way of turning down a bed, and in her frantic attempts to hide Bill from Olive.
In general, critics pointed out the freshness of Eleanor’s performance. “Eleanor Parker brings a delightful spontaneity to the role of Sally Middleton,” raved Newsweek.
The New York Times’ Thomas M. Pryor paid Eleanor the ultimate compliment: “Miss Parker brings to [the role] the innocence and bewilderment of youth that is so essential, and in this respect she is even more successful than Miss Sullavan.”
The Voice of the Turtle proved to be the shot in the arm Eleanor’s career needed. The film was one of Warners’ most profitable for that year, and Eleanor gained new respect as an actress.
Eleanor went from the sophistication of modern-day New York to Victorian England for The Woman in White (1948), based on Wilkie Collins’ nineteenth-century mystery novel. Eleanor was given the challenge of playing a dual role: Laura Fairlie, the heiress to a handsome fortune, and Ann Catherick, her lookalike cousin who has escaped from a sanatorium. Plotting against both women is evil Count Fosco (a ghoulish Sydney Greenstreet). He has kept Ann hidden so that it will not be revealed that she is his wife’s illegitimate daughter, and now he has arranged for Laura to marry sinister Sir Percival Clyde (John Emery). Ann wants to warn Laura that Sir Percival plans to kill her so that he and Fosco can then claim her fortune.
The Woman in White was perhaps director Peter Godfrey’s best film. That is not to say it is a great film, but it is good fun, thanks to the performances of Greenstreet and Emery as the villains. Eleanor was fetching as Laura but seemed less secure as the frightened Ann, sometimes reduced to such mannerisms as pressing her hand to her mouth in fear at the sight of Count Fosco. The New York Times commented that, “Eleanor Parker is old-fashioned, too, going crazy and hearing the birdies singing in about as quaint a way as our grandmothers would allow.”
Eleanor was off the screen for nearly two years after the birth of her first two children. She had a cameo in It’s a Great Feeling (1949), a breezy Doris Day musical, then wasn’t seen again until Chain Lightning (1950), opposite Humphrey Bogart. The airborne drama about a former World War II flier who test pilots a new jet that its manufacturer is trying to sell to the Air Force was a good aerial show but hardly stimulating drama, with its tired romantic subplot. Eleanor gamely played Bogart’s wife, but the part hardly mustered excitement.
Far superior was Caged (1950), a gripping women’s prison drama that provided Eleanor with the type of multi-faceted role she excelled at. Eleanor, then twenty-seven, played nineteen-year-old Marie Allen, a doe-eyed innocent who is sent to prison for being an accomplice in an armed robbery in which only forty dollars was netted and her husband was killed. As an indifferent prison clerk tells Marie, “Five dollars less and it wouldn’t be a crime.” During the medical exam Marie learns she is pregnant. The compassion of Mrs. Benton (Agnes Moorehead), the crusading warden, is small consolation for the cruelty Marie receives from a sadistic matron (Hope Emerson). Marie’s life in prison becomes even more hellish when she goes into premature labor after witnessing the hanging suicide of a fellow inmate (Olive Deering), and sees her baby put in an institution. Worst of all is when Marie gets turned down for parole and makes a failed escape attempt. The embittered Marie eventually gets released when a vice queen (Lee Patrick) sets her up with a job on the outside, which in reality is a front for a shoplifting gang.
Screenwriter Virginia Kellogg visited four state jails and soaked up plenty of atmosphere to get the proper mood for Caged. Despite her efforts, the screenplay she co-wrote with Bernard C. Schoenfeld occasionally lapses into women’s prison movie clichés. The obligatory cell riot scene was included, along with such trite dialogue as, “In this cage you get tough or you get killed.” Marie’s fellow inmates at times seem like members of a slumber party, sharing humorous anecdotes about their criminal pasts.
In general, Caged is a hard-hitting indictment on the penal system, thanks to John Cromwell’s no-nonsense direction, especially the harrowing scene in which Marie’s hair is shaved. The humming of the razor is the only sound effect as the camera zooms in for a devastating close-up of Marie’s eyes as she watches her hair fall.
Eleanor’s gutsy performance is surely one of her finest. She manages Marie’s difficult transformation with credulity, beautifully conveying her loneliness and despair in the first half of the film, and equally, if not more effectively, showing her anger and frustration in the latter portion. The New York Times found Caged to be “awfully hollow,” but, “Miss Parker gives a creditable and expressive performance as the unfortunate heroine.”
Eleanor earned her first Best Actress Oscar nomination for Caged. Unfortunately, the race was one of the toughest in Oscar history as she faced off against Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard, Bette Davis and Anne Baxter in All About Eve, and Judy Holliday in Born Yesterday. Although Swanson and Davis were sentimental favorites, columnist Bob Thomas insisted even on the eve of the Oscars, “It’s still a wide-open race, particularly among the fillies.” In the end, Holliday was the victor. Still, Eleanor was chosen Best Actress in the World at the Venice Film Festival for Caged.
Eleanor then teamed up with two other Warners hopefuls—Patricia Neal and Ruth Roman—in the underrated Three Secrets (1950), a compelling drama directed by Robert Wise. The movie was inspired by the plight of three-year-old Kathy Fiscus of Los Angeles, who fell down a well in 1949. Rescue efforts were recorded live by a local news team, as millions of concerned viewers waited for the outcome. Sadly, the little girl did not survive.
The child victim in Three Secrets is a five-year-old boy who is the sole survivor of a plane crash in which his adopted parents were killed. Eleanor, Neal and Roman play the three women who each believe he is the son they gave up for adoption exactly five years earlier. Through flashbacks we learn the circumstances that led to their decision to give away their babies: Susan (Eleanor), who was in love with a soldier engaged to someone else, was goaded into the adoption by her domineering mother; Phyllis (Neal) was an ambitious, globe-trotting reporter whose lack of domestic skills drove away her husband (Frank Lovejoy); and Anne (Roman) was sent to prison after she shot her child’s father, a racketeer who was no longer interested in her.
Three Secrets seems patterned after Joseph L. Manckiewicz’s A Letter to Three Wives (1949), with its opening present-day segment, its three flashbacks and the answer to the film’s burning question—in this case, who is the real mother? Unlike Manckiewicz’s film, which was a witty dissection of three marriages, Three Secrets doesn’t probe into character analysis. Instead, it relies more heavily on soap opera manipulations for its revelations, but Wise’s careful grip on the material, and a smart script by Martin Rackin and Gina Kaus, helped make Three Secrets several cuts above the typical woman’s picture. Wise also tried to underscore what even he considered “soap opera” by injecting as much realism as possible into the rescue effort, which plays almost like a news story. “Wise’s favorite part of the film was the rescue effort, which included using actual climbers from the Sierra Club, and veteran interviewer Bill Welsh to play the newsman.”
Also key to the success of Three Secrets were the superlative performances of the three leading ladies. Though Eleanor had the least interesting role, her understated performance is among her best. Critics have on occasion accused Eleanor of overplaying or resorting to hysterics for dramatic effect. Wise kept her in check and helped her deliver an honest, thoughtful performance that made her character sympathetic and endearing.
After Three Secrets Eleanor chose not to renew her contract with Warners. She was anxious for diverse roles, though her first effort as a freelancer seemed a few notches below many of her Warners films. Valentino (1951), for Columbia, claimed to be the life story of silent screen legend Rudolph Valentino, but was merely a fictionalized Hollywood hack-job that suffered from limp direction by Lewis Allen, a terrible screenplay by George Bruce and a flat performance by newcomer Anthony Dexter as Valentino. Eleanor suffered bravely as Joan Carlyle, a fictional silent star who supposedly had a great romance with the Sheik and, as this tale implies, was probably the woman in black who visited Valentino’s grave.
As Richard Mallett so aptly wrote in Punch: “The dialogue is unbelievably ham, the ‘entirely imaginary’ story commonplace; the players deserve sympathy.”
Despite the negative reviews, Valentino was more popular than it should have been. At least in her first full-length Technicolor film Eleanor looked breathtaking.
Valentino was so bad it bordered on comedy. A Millionaire for Christy (1951) was supposed to be amusing, and for the most part, it was. Produced by her husband Bert for 20th Century–Fox, Eleanor was engaging as a gold-digging secretary on the make for her millionaire boss (Fred MacMurray). Hardly a novel plot, the stars made the slight tale click.
Eleanor then worked with director William Wyler on The Detective Story (1951), Paramount’s filmization of Sidney Kingsley’s hard-hitting drama about the events that transpire during one day in a New York City police precinct. Central to the day’s activities is callous detective Jim McLeod (Kirk Douglas), whose career and marriage come under fire because of his own misguided code of justice. With an attitude that everyone is guilty until proven innocent, he thinks nothing of beating those he arrests, in particular, Dr. Schneider, a suspected abortionist. Later McLeod’s wife Mary (Eleanor) becomes the target of her husband’s warped sense of justice when he learns she went to Schneider when she was in her teens for an abortion.
“Detective Story is the kind of part I just love. Drama. Tragedy done the tasteful Wyler way,” Eleanor told the New York Times.
Along with Goulding, Wyler was a director for whom Eleanor had nothing but praise: “Willie will say, ‘Now let’s exaggerate it.’ Then, ‘Now we’ll underplay. Then he has you do it down the middle and shade from both sides.”
Wyler also deserves credit for tackling the difficult subject matter in an adult manner. Though the Hays Office would not allow the word abortion to be uttered on-screen in 1951, the message is made clear, and the scene between Douglas and Parker when her secret is revealed is high drama. The Detective Story grossed a whopping $2.8 million.
Though The New York Times called it a “brisk, absorbing film,” Crowther felt, “Kirk Douglas is so forceful and aggressive as the detective with a kink in his brain that the sweet and conventional distractions of Miss Parker as his wife appear quite tame.”
Although Eleanor was second-billed after Douglas, her minimal screen time made her role seem like a supporting one. Surprisingly, when Oscar nominations were announced, Douglas was absent from the Best Actor lineup, while Eleanor was a Best Actress contender. She lost to odds-on favorite Vivien Leigh for A Streetcar Named Desire, but with back-to-back Oscar nominations, Eleanor was becoming a bankable star.
Hoping to cash in was MGM, which signed Eleanor to a contact that allowed her one outside film each year. Her initial MGM venture was Rafael Sabatini’s colorful swashbuckler Scaramouche (1952). The movie was originally intended as a vehicle for Gene Kelly until Stewart Granger proved himself a popular adventure star in King Solomon’s Mines (1950). Ava Gardner was originally slated for Eleanor’s role. Sabatini’s actioner, which takes place in pre–Revolutionary France, deals with dashing Andre Moreau (Granger) and his plan to avenge the death of his friend who was killed by the nefarious Marquis de Maynes (Mel Ferrer) in a duel. To perfect his fencing skills, Andre joins up with the Commedia del’Arte and romances Lenore (Eleanor), an old flame whom he once deserted. Their pairing has shades of Petruchio and Kate in Taming of the Shrew, and their comic performances together give the appearance of a flesh-and-blood Punch and Judy. Moreau eventually conquers his adversary, but once again rejects the tempestuous Lenore in favor of the delicate Aline (Janet Leigh), a member of the French aristocracy. In one of the wildest stretches of historical accuracy, Lenore finds comfort with a new lover—Napoleon!
Director George Sidney wisely focused on the comic elements of Sabatini’s novel so that Scaramouche moves along at a spirited pace. Granger, in his first swashbuckling role, made a dashing hero in the best Errol Flynn tradition. As Lenore, Eleanor had the juicier female role, which afforded her the opportunity to engage in physical comedy and even wield a sword, both of which she did with great vigor. With radiant, shoulder-length red tresses, and dressed in both period gowns and tight-fitting eighteenth-century leotards, Eleanor was at her most seductive.
MGM up to that time had not dallied much with tales of derring-do, but Scaramouche was such a big hit that it paved the way for a series of MGM adventure flicks in the ’50s, including Ivanhoe (1952) and Knights of the Round Table (1954).
Eleanor next appeared in her first of three screen teamings with Robert Taylor, Above and Beyond (1953), a solid drama about Col. Paul Tibbets, the man who piloted the Enola Gay and dropped the atomic bomb over Hiroshima in 1945. Taylor played the troubled Tibbets and Eleanor was his patient wife, Lucy. Obviously, in such a film the more exciting sequences took place in the air, especially the climactic bombing, but Eleanor and Taylor brought great strength to the domestic scenes.
“I’d call it an important drama, basically a love story seen through the eyes of a woman,” was how Eleanor described the film in a rare interview with The New York Times.
Devotion to her family drove her to turn down the female lead in Tea and Sympathy, a new play by Robert Anderson. Although she was intrigued by the role of a prep school housemaster’s wife who awakens the sexual desires of a sensitive young student, she refused to leave her family or have her children uprooted. Deborah Kerr played the role instead.
“I’m afraid I’m not as ambitious as I might be—say, as ambitious as my husband is for me,” she told The New York Times. “Now—I have Bert, the children and our friends, mostly in the business end of the industry. When we’re not busy, we just lie around the house in slacks. That’s the kind of people we are.”
Eleanor then added: “Things have a way of working out right for me. I’ve had no real hard knocks, career-wise. I never did any starving in an attic. I come from a money-less background of schoolteachers and farmers in and around Cleveland. Doors opened, though. I maintain that if you work, believe in yourself and do what is right for you, without stepping all over others, the way opens up.”
Despite Eleanor’s somewhat idyllic description of life with Friedlob, there were obviously problems. On July 2, 1953, she filed suit for divorce, claiming that he caused her “grievous mental suffering.” They divorced four months later.
Even though she was now single, Eleanor stayed close to home with her family. “I never go to night clubs and skip parties—the big ones, that is—when I can do it gracefully,” she said. “I don’t like them. It seems to me that most of the people at these affairs are unhappy. They must have some escape from themselves, I suppose, and find it in crowds. For me there’s too much good music to hear, too many books waiting to read and, thank heavens, so much work.”
Ironically, it was her next film that would serve as a stepping stone to her third marriage. Escape from Fort Bravo (1953) was a well-mounted, if familiar, western with the popular William Holden. The film was standard cavalry versus the Indians fare, but director John Sturges kept the action moving, and the on-location shooting at Death Valley made it look realistic.
At the time, Eleanor was looking for an artist to paint her portrait, and Holden recommended Paul Clemens, a painter who specialized in portraits. Eleanor was impressed with both the artist and his work, and he likewise became fascinated with his subject.
“It was one of the most exciting sittings I ever had,” Clemens told reporter Hyatt Downing. “The portrait was to be small—just the head and shoulders—and while I was doing the preliminary sketch, we talked. I found that she possessed a lively and intelligent curiosity about my work; had none of the usual easy but superficial patter which a great many people employ to cover their abysmal ignorance about art. What she said made sense.”
They soon discovered they had similar tastes in literature, classical music and art. What began as a friendship soon blossomed into romance, and they were married on November 24, 1954. During the time they were married, Clemens did fourteen portraits of Eleanor.
Shortly before her marriage, Eleanor completed The Naked Jungle (1954) for Paramount, an adventure yarn in which she played the mail-order bride of a South American plantation owner (Charlton Heston). The movie was an odd mixture of sexual tension and George Pal special effects, as armies of deadly ants approached Heston’s estate. Though the scene in which the swarms of insects attack was especially gripping, Eleanor and Heston made attractive sparring partners in the rest of the film.
Following a double play with Taylor—in the visually appealing but boring Valley of the Kings (1954) and the amusing frontier romp Many Rivers to Cross (1954), Eleanor starred in what she called “just about the best picture I ever made.” The film was Interrupted Melody (1955), the honest and inspiring story of Australian soprano Marjorie Lawrence, who was stricken with polio at the height of her success.
The project had actually been kicking around at MGM since 1952 when it was envisioned as a vehicle for Greer Garson. The advent of new gimmicks such as 3D, Cinemascope and Cinerama caused MGM to hesitate on the Lawrence project. Realizing Interrupted Melody would be an expensive film to mount, the studio feared audiences might not be eager to see a story about opera and polio over trendier films such as House of Wax (1953).
Once the 3D fad ran its course in 1954, MGM’s interest in Interrupted Melody was piqued once more. By that point Garson had left the studio, and producer Jack Cummings had to begin a search for a new leading lady. According to gossip maven Louella Parsons, when Eleanor arrived for her audition with Cummings, she flamed into his office and immediately took on the role of prima donna. She took the offensive and accused Cummings of disliking her, and then told Cummings exactly how she would play the role if she got it, and proceeded to show him. Cummings replied by telling her if she got the part she would do as she was told. “Then Cummings, one of our smartest producers … realized the girl had deliberately pricked him into seeing how temperamental she could be,” wrote Parsons. “And that’s how Eleanor got the part.”
Curtis Bernhardt, who left Warners for MGM in 1947, was chosen to direct. Several top male stars were approached to co-star as Dr. King, and all turned it down, fearing they would be stuck playing second fiddle. Glenn Ford, however, welcomed the chance to do a tender drama after a string of westerns and crime yarns. He later said how much he liked working with Eleanor, whom he described as “the most un-temperamental girl in Hollywood.”
The movie opened with Lawrence rushing to catch a train so that she can compete in a talent competition in Sydney. She wins and heads to Paris to study with a renowned voice teacher (Francoise Rosay). Marjorie studies hard and eventually gets to play Carmen. She is well-received and soon becomes a leading opera star. At a party one night she meets Thomas King, who is studying to be an obstetrician. Although Marjorie and King like each other, they regard their encounter as a case of “two ships that pass in the night.” King, now a successful doctor, encounters Marjorie in New York a few years later. This time they realize they cannot live without each other and get married. Their love for each other is tested when Marjorie develops polio. She gives up her career and at one point even attempts suicide. It is only after she is asked to sing at an army hospital, and she sees others in worse physical condition than herself—but with a spirit to live—that she at last accepts her illness and finally returns to the stage.
Eleanor’s performance in Interrupted Melody may well be the apex of her career. Although she obviously could not handle the arias the story required, she did an effective job of mouthing while Eileen Farrell sang.
“I had to be letter perfect, because while I didn’t actually sing the songs—I couldn’t, of course—the movements of my lips in forming the words had to sync exactly with those of the great soprano’s as they came off the soundtrack,” Eleanor said. “I learned three operas in three languages during two weeks. I drove to work in the morning with the score propped up on the steering wheel of my car, and I woke up at night to find I’d been repeating the songs in my sleep.”
Dramatically, Eleanor captured all of the nuances and personality changes the role called for. From her jubilation at winning the talent contest to her despair as she loses the will to live, she is mesmerizing. In the film’s pivotal scene Eleanor is outstanding as Marjorie’s husband forces her to turn off the phonograph that is playing her record. Both the physical and emotional hurt Eleanor expresses in this scene make it almost painful to watch.
Eleanor won accolades for her performance. Parsons boasted that, “Eleanor Parker catches the full scope of a great operatic personality: the bounce and vitality of the young farm girl, the arrogance of the young star, the tyranny of the invalid, the full-heartedness of a woman who can give and receive love.”
The New York Times raved, “No one can take from Miss Parker the full credit for the emotional power she brings to the scenes of agonizing self-torment that come later in the film.”
MGM took some liberties with Lawrence’s repertoire. The music department relied on more popular arias from the likes of Carmen and Madame Butterfly rather than some of the heavier items that Lawrence was known for, to ensure theater patrons would not be turned off by the operatic numbers. The blend of culture and high drama helped the film do brisk business.
Interrupted Melody earned Eleanor a third Oscar nomination, but she lost to Anna Magnani for The Rose Tattoo (1955). William Ludwig and Sonya Levien won for their story and screenplay. Eleanor, however, took her Oscar loss in stride.
“I think it’s possible for a performer to set too high a value on the Academy Award. I’d like to win it, of course—who wouldn’t?—but it will never become an obsession with me. It’s fine to hitch your wagon to a distant star, but failure to reach that shining goal could end in bitterness and frustration. I’m never going to let that happen to me.”
Director Otto Preminger was so impressed with Eleanor’s movements as an invalid in Interrupted Melody, that he specifically asked for her to play Frank Sinatra’s wheelchair-bound wife in The Man with the Golden Arm (1955). The film was the first penetrating look at drug addiction, with Sinatra as Frankie, a down-and-out drummer who had been institutionalized to try and kick his heroin habit. He returns home to his wife Zosch (Eleanor), who blames him for the accident that crippled her. In reality, Zosch has regained the use of her legs, but she fears that if Frankie finds out the truth he will leave her. She is not the only one clinging to Frankie: His drug pusher (Darren McGavin) continues to hound him, making it impossible for Frankie to break free of his demons. He turns to Molly (Kim Novak) to help cure him of his addiction. Frankie eventually becomes drug free and strong enough to finally leave Zosch, especially when he discovers her secret. When she tries to stop him from leaving her, she has a fatal accident.
Preminger, who was never afraid to push cinema boundaries, whether it was with frank sexual discussion (Anatomy of a Murder), racial themes (Carmen Jones) or homosexuality (Advise and Consent), was unsparing in his depiction of drug addiction in The Man with the Golden Arm. Sinatra’s withdrawal scenes are frighteningly real, and both he and the usually stoic Novak bring great conviction to those moments. Although critics thought Eleanor was too beautiful to be convincing as Sinatra’s harpy of a wife, she still had her moments, most notably her confrontation with Novak in which she shouts, “He put me in this chair, and as long as I sit here he’ll never leave me. He knows he belongs to me. I wouldn’t want to live if he left me, and I’d rather see him dead, too, than have him go with you.”
Much publicity and the controversial subject matter made The Man with the Golden Arm an enormous success. By contrast, the best that could be said of her next two films were that they were interesting failures. Eleanor made The King and Four Queens (1956) for the chance to work with Clark Gable, but it was a terrible western that even a soupcon of sex couldn’t liven up. Gable played a cowboy after gold and the hand of one of Jo Van Fleet’s four daughters. It was no surprise as to whose hand he got. A rare Raoul Walsh misfire, The King and Four Queens was sabotaged by poor editing, which included the deletion of several of Eleanor’s key scenes.
Eleanor was not served much better by Lizzie (1957), a psychological drama based on The Bird’s Nest by Shirley Jackson, in which she played a woman with three different personalities. A psychiatrist (Richard Boone), sounding more like a plumber than a doctor, offers his assessment of her condition: “She’s stopped up the main pipeline of her mind with some disturbing obstruction.” The obstruction, not surprisingly, harkens back to her unhappy childhood.
Though released shortly before the similarly themed The Three Faces of Eve (1957), Lizzie suffered from an overripe script by Mel Dinelli and uninspired direction by Hugo Haas. Likewise, Eleanor’s performance paled in comparison to Joanne Woodward’s dynamic Oscar-winning turn in Eve.
Neither it nor The Seventh Sin (1957) fared well with audiences. The latter, directed by Ronald Neame, was a remake of The Painted Veil (1934), with Eleanor taking on Greta Garbo’s old role as the adulterous wife of a bacteriologist (Bill Travers). When her married lover (Jean-Pierre Aumont) refuses to leave his wife, Carol (Eleanor) has no choice but to travel with her husband from Hong Kong to a Chinese village with a cholera epidemic. The shallow Carol eventually begins to see her husband’s good qualities—his love of children, his concern for others—and also takes a look at herself. She finds comfort by volunteering at a local convent, and also learns about love through the relationship between her friend Tim (George Sanders) and his Asian wife. She even begins to feel affection for her husband and begs his forgiveness for her sin. Her pleas lead to one passionate night between them, but he still cannot forgive her, especially when she tells him she’s pregnant and is unsure whether he or her lover is the father.
The Painted Veil was an odd choice for a remake, since it was one of Garbo’s few flops. Still, this version benefits from beautiful cinematography and a fine performance by Eleanor. “Exquisitely gowned, Miss Parker makes a sincere, often moving heroine, in spite of … her almost blinding beauty. It’s a tough part and Miss Parker tackles it like a professional,” said Howard Thompson of The New York Times.
Eleanor took some time off from filmmaking to give birth to her fourth child, Paul Clemens, Jr. Paul Sr. had earlier adopted Eleanor’s three children from her previous marriage. “It’s better that way. Now they’ll all have the same last name,“ Eleanor said at the time.
She made a welcome return to the screen in A Hole in the Head (1959), a Frank Capra–directed comedy about a Florida widower (Frank Sinatra) whose irresponsible behavior, especially when it comes to raising his son (Eddie Hodges), is a bone of contention with his older brother and his wife (Edward G. Robinson and Thelma Ritter). Eleanor was a knockout as an attractive widow whom the ne’er-do-well gets fixed up with. Packed with plenty of laughs and an Oscar-winning song (“High Hopes”), the movie was one of the year’s big hits.
Eleanor also had a good supporting role as the wife of philandering Texas rancher Robert Mitchum in Home from the Hill (1960), her last for MGM. Though the movie did more for newcomers George Peppard and George Hamilton than it did for Eleanor, she turned in a lovely performance under Vincente Minnelli’s direction.
Eleanor had been curtailing her film work in favor of spending more time with her children. In the summer of 1960 she and her family moved from their Bel Air mansion to a seven-bedroom beach house at Lido Isle, which was about fifty-five miles away from Los Angeles. She dismissed all of the servants except for Paul Jr.’s nurse. Instead, she assigned household chores to each of the older children.
Eleanor loved peaceful Lido Isle, which also attracted such neighbors as Jane Wyman, Claire Trevor and Rock Hudson. “It’s like living in a small town. We all bicycle back and forth to the markets, and the children all go to school together on a bus,” Eleanor said. “There’s never any fear for the children because there are not many automobiles cruising past the houses.”
She did make the trek back to Hollywood the next year for two movies released by 20th Century–Fox. In Return to Peyton Place (1961), a sequel to the 1957 smash, Peyton Place, Eleanor took over Lana Turner’s role as Constance Mackenzie, one of the New England Babylon’s citizens who is furious over the salacious tell-all book her daughter Alison (Carol Lynley) has written about her hometown. Less steamy and more talky than the first film, Return to Peyton Place was dominated by Mary Astor’s scenery-chewing performance as a domineering matron leading the campaign to have the book banned from the school library.
Her other Fox film was Madison Avenue (1962), a poor drama about the advertising industry, in which Eleanor was transformed from a struggling failure to a power-hungry executive thanks to the help of Dana Andrews. The movie may not have been heralded by critics, but Andrews remarked that Eleanor is “the least heralded great actress.” Director Bruce Humberstone was even more flattering: “It’s one-take pros like Eleanor who make directors look good.”
In the early ’60s Eleanor began dabbling in television, with appearances as Sister Cecelia in a 90-minute adaptation of Ernest Hemingway’s The Gambler, the Nun and the Radio, and as a stripper in an episode of Checkmate. She also received an Emmy nomination in 1963 for her work in “Why Am I Grown So Cold?” an episode of The Eleventh Hour.
In 1962 several interesting proposals were announced as possible projects for Eleanor: I Was a Spy, the true story of an American housewife who becomes part of a Communist organization to help the FBI; Mother Cabrini, a biography of the American saint, which also had director Curtis Bernhardt attached to it; Away from Home, based on Rona Jaffe’s novel about Americans in Brazil; The Park Avenue Story, a romantic comedy that would have teamed her with James Cagney; and Madeleine, a modern version of Medea for Federico Fellini.
For whatever reasons, none of these projects ever materialized, either with or without Eleanor. In fact, she stayed offscreen until 1964, when she surfaced for a small role in Panic Button, a sort of low-grade version of The Producers (1968) made in Italy. Maurice Chevalier and Akim Tamiroff also appeared in the film, but it had few bookings.
Director Robert Wise had fond memories of working with Eleanor on Three Secrets. When he began work on the film version of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music (1965) he immediately thought of Eleanor to play the Baroness who falls in love with Captain von Trapp. “I thought she had the right quality to play the baroness. She was so elegant and had a regal way about her,” said Wise.
Though most of the movie’s focus was on the romance between Maria, governess to the von Trapp children, and the stern captain, Eleanor provided some extra zest as “the other woman” who hopes to become the next Madame von Trapp. Although Eleanor’s role is brief, she’s both amusing in her awkward attempt to mingle with the children in a lawn game, and touching in the scene with Julie Andrews when she advises Maria to forget about von Trapp.
“I just thought she was wonderful in that scene,” said Wise. “She played it beautifully and gave me exactly what I wanted. She was just a total joy to work with. A complete professional. She’s still an absolute delight.”
The Sound of Music was the most successful film Eleanor ever appeared in, and for several years it was the second highest all-time moneymaker, right behind Gone with the Wind (1939). It is also the only film Eleanor appeared in to ever win a Best Picture Oscar.
Sadly, it was also her last good feature film. Her movies over the next few years—The Oscar (1966), An American Dream (1966), Warning Shot (1967) and The Tiger and the Pussycat (1967)—were all dreadful and unworthy of her talent. Although Eleanor looked much younger than her forty-four years, she was no longer being offered the romantic leads that she used to get.
Eleanor became even less driven about her career. She had divorced Clemens on March 9, 1965, and shortly afterward met prominent businessman Raymond N. Hirsch. They wed on April 17, 1966, and have been happily married ever since.
She did make one more feature during this period, Eye of the Cat (1969), an inconsequential thriller in the Psycho vein but without the Hitchcock touch. Still, its premise about a young man (Michael Sarrazin) with a fear of cats who moves into the home of his rich aunt (Eleanor) with a passion for felines had its scary moments.
With few interesting movie offers coming her way, Eleanor accepted a starring role in the television series Bracken’s World, a look at the complicated lives of the people who work at a motion picture studio. Eleanor played Sylvia Chase, girl Friday to studio head Bracken, who was mentioned but never seen. Looking far more radiant than most of the young starlets who graced the show, Eleanor brought her usual skill and dignity to the series.
Critics, however, panned it. “Attractive people, led by Eleanor Parker, brave the confusion on the movie lot, but it is Bracken, the ostensible tycoon of the studio, who is the wisest character. He does not put in an appearance, a decision to be heartily supported by the set owner,” said The New York Times.
Eleanor left the series during the middle of its first season, and without her the show lost whatever spark it had and was canceled early in its second year. Her performance was recognized with a Golden Globe nomination. Still, she never did another regular series.
Eleanor did pop up in several well-made television movies: Hans Brinker (1969), as the title character’s mother; Maybe I’ll Come Home in the Spring (1971), a generation-gap drama with Eleanor as the ultra-conservative mother of hippie Sally Field; Vanished (1972), a gripping political miniseries based on Fletcher Knebel’s novel; Home for the Holidays (1972), a Yuletide-themed thriller that allowed Eleanor to have a highly emotional breakdown at the climax; and The Great American Beauty Contest (1974), in which she stole the show as a former pageant winner harboring guilt over how she won the contest.
In the 1970s Eleanor undertook her first venture on the stage since appearing at the Pasadena Playhouse. She starred in the Los Angeles production of Forty Carats in 1971, and was a popular draw with both audiences and critics. Five years later she appeared in a revival of Pal Joey at the Circle In The Square Theatre in New York, glamorous as ever playing Vera, the wealthy patroness of the arts who romances and supports the title character (Edward Villella).
In 1979 Eleanor returned to the big screen after a ten-year absence in the comedy-mystery Sunburn, another of several failed attempts to turn former Charlie’s Angel Farrah Fawcett into a movie star. Eleanor appeared briefly alongside several other veteran actors, such as Art Carney, Joan Collins and Keenan Wynn. It remains her last feature film to date.
The remainder of Eleanor’s credits have been in television. She appeared in two more telefilms, She’s Dressed to Kill (1979) and Madame X (1981), and did the obligatory veteran star guest appearances in the likes of Fantasy Island, The Love Boat and Murder, She Wrote.
In 1991 she made her final appearance to date in the made-for-cable movie Dead on the Money as Corbin Bernsen’s grasping mother. The film was so-so, but Eleanor’s reviews were glowing. “Eleanor Parker as a matriarch flashes so much style with just a cold calculating smile that it’s a shame the veteran actress hasn’t found more regular work,” said The New York Post.
In truth, Eleanor didn’t seem concerned about finding more work. She was content being with her family and living a happy, quiet life at her home in Palm Springs, California. Eleanor always felt fortunate about having her chance in the limelight.
“I even got my three wishes granted,” she said in a 1953 interview. “To be an actress, to give mother a mink coat and to buy the folks a house.”
They Died with Their Boots On (Warner Bros., 1941) Directed by Raoul Walsh. Cast: Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, Arthur Kennedy, Sydney Greenstreet, Walter Hampden. (Eleanor’s scenes ended up on the cutting room floor.)
Soldiers in White (Warner Bros., 1942) Directed by B. Reeses Eason. A two-reel color short on the Medical Corps., with Eleanor as a nurse.
Busses Roar (Warner Bros., 1942) Directed by D. Ross Lederman. Cast: Richard Travis, Julie Bishop, Charles Drake, Eleanor Parker, Elisabeth Fraser, Richard Fraser, Peter Whitney.
The Mysterious Doctor (Warner Bros., 1943) Directed by Ben Stoloff. Cast: John Loder, Eleanor Parker, Bruce Lester, Lester Matthews, Forrester Harvey, Matt Willis, Creighton Hale.
Mission to Moscow (Warner Bros., 1943) Directed by Michael Curtiz. Cast: Walter Huston, Ann Harding, Oscar Homolka, Eleanor Parker, George Tobias, Gene Lockhart, Richard Travis.
Between Two Worlds (Warner Bros., 1944) Directed by Edward A. Blatt. Cast: Paul Henreid, John Garfield, Faye Emerson, Eleanor Parker, Sydney Greenstreet, Edmund Gwenn.
Crime by Night (Warner Bros., 1944) Directed by William Clemens. Cast: Jerome Cowan, Jane Wyman, Faye Emerson, Eleanor Parker, Charles Lang, Stuart Crawford, Cy Kendall.
The Last Ride (Warner Bros., 1944) Directed by D. Ross Lederman. Cast: Richard Travis, Charles Lang, Eleanor Parker, Jack La Rue, Cy Kendall, Mary Gordon, Wade Boteler.
The Very Thought of You (Warner Bros., 1944) Directed by Delmer Daves. Cast: Dennis Morgan, Eleanor Parker, Dane Clark, Faye Emerson, Beulah Bondi, William Prince, Andrea King, Henry Travers.
Hollywood Canteen (Warner Bros., 1944) Directed by Delmer Daves. Cast: Joan Leslie, Robert Hutton, Janis Paige, Dane Clark. Guest Stars: The Andrews Sisters, Jack Benny, Joe E. Brown, Eddie Cantor, Jack Carson, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Faye Emerson, John Garfield, Sydney Greenstreet, Paul Henreid, Andrea King, Peter Lorre, Ida Lupino, Dennis Morgan, Eleanor Parker, Roy Rogers, Zachary Scott, Alexis Smith, Barbara Stanwyck, Jane Wyman.
Pride of the Marines (Warner Bros., 1945) Directed by Delmer Daves. Cast: John Garfield, Eleanor Parker, Dane Clark, Rosemary De Camp, John Ridgeley, Ann Doran, Ann Todd.
Of Human Bondage (Warner Bros., 1946) Directed by Edmund Goulding. Cast: Paul Henreid, Eleanor Parker, Alexis Smith, Janis Paige, Edmund Gwenn, Patric Knowles, Henry Stephenson.
Never Say Goodbye (Warner Bros., 1946) Directed by James V. Kern. Cast: Errol Flynn, Eleanor Parker, Forrest Tucker, Lucile Watson, S.Z. Sakall, Donald Woods, Peggy Knudsen.
Escape Me Never (Warner Bros., 1947) Directed by Peter Godfrey. Cast: Errol Flynn, Ida Lupino, Eleanor Parker, Gig Young, Reginald Denny, Isobel Elsom, Albert Basserman.
The Voice of the Turtle (Warner Bros., 1947) Directed by Irving Rapper. Cast: Ronald Reagan, Eleanor Parker, Eve Arden, Wayne Morris, Kent Smith, John Emery, Erskine Sanford.
The Woman in White (Warner Bros., 1948) Directed by Peter Godfrey. Cast: Alexis Smith, Eleanor Parker, Sydney Greenstreet, Gig Young, Agnes Moorehead, John Emery, John Abbott.
It’s a Great Feeling (Warner Bros., 1949) Directed by David Butler. Cast: Doris Day, Dennis Morgan, Jack Carson, Bill Goodwin. Guest Stars: Gary Cooper, Joan Crawford, Errol Flynn, Danny Kaye, Patricia Neal, Eleanor Parker, Edward G. Robinson, Ronald Reagan, Jane Wyman.
Chain Lightning (Warner Bros., 1950) Directed by Stuart Heisler. Cast: Humphrey Bogart, Eleanor Parker, Raymond Massey, Richard Whorf, James Brown.
Caged (Warner Bros., 1950) Directed by John Cromwell. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Agnes Moorehead, Hope Emerson, Ellen Corby, Jan Sterling, Betty Garde, Gertrude Michael.
Three Secrets (Warner Bros., 1950) Directed by Robert Wise. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Patricia Neal, Ruth Roman, Frank Lovejoy, Leif Erickson, Ted de Corsia, Katherine Emery, Arthur Franz.
Valentino (Columbia, 1951) Directed by Lewis Allen. Cast: Anthony Dexter, Eleanor Parker, Patricia Medina, Richard Carlson, Dona Drake, Otto Kruger, Lloyd Gough.
A Millionaire for Christy (20th Century–Fox, 1951) Directed by George Marshall. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Fred MacMurray, Richard Carlson, Kay Buckley, Una Merkel, Douglas Dumbrille.
The Detective Story (Paramount, 1951) Directed by William Wyler. Cast: Kirk Douglas, Eleanor Parker, William Bendix, George Macready, Lee Grant, Cathy O’Donnell.
Scaramouche (MGM, 1952) Directed by George Sidney. Cast: Stewart Granger, Eleanor Parker, Janet Leigh, Mel Ferrer, Nina Foch, Lewis Stone, Henry Wilcoxon, Robert Coote.
Above and Beyond (MGM, 1952) Directed by Melvin Frank and Norman Panama. Cast: Robert Taylor, Eleanor Parker, James Whitmore, Larry Keating, Larry Gates, Marilyn Erskine.
Escape from Fort Bravo (MGM, 1953) Directed by John Sturges. Cast: William Holden, Eleanor Parker, John Forsythe, William Demarest, William Campbell, John Lupton, Polly Bergen.
The Naked Jungle (Paramount, 1954) Directed by Byron Haskin. Cast: Charlton Heston, Eleanor Parker, William Conrad, Abraham Sofaer, Romo Vincent, Douglas Fowley.
Valley of the Kings (MGM, 1954) Directed by Robert Pirosh. Cast: Robert Taylor, Eleanor Parker, Carlos Thompson, Kurt Kasznar, Victor Jory, Samia Gamal.
Many Rivers to Cross (MGM, 1955) Directed by Roy Rowland. Cast: Robert Taylor, Eleanor Parker, Victor McLaglen, Jeff Richards, Russ Tamblyn, James Arness, Rosemary De Camp.
Interrupted Melody (MGM, 1955) Directed by Curtis Bernhardt. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Glenn Ford, Roger Moore, Cecil Kellaway, Francoise Rosay, Peter Leeds.
The Man with the Golden Arm (United Artists, 1955) Directed by Otto Preminger. Cast: Frank Sinatra, Kim Novak, Eleanor Parker, Arnold Stang, Darren McGavin, Robert Strauss.
The King and Four Queens (United Artists, 1956) Directed by Raoul Walsh. Cast: Clark Gable, Eleanor Parker, Jo Van Fleet, Barbara Nichols, Sara Shane, Jean Willes, Roy Roberts.
Lizzie (MGM, 1957) Directed by Hugo Haas. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Richard Boone, Joan Blondell, Hugo Haas, Ric Roman, Johnny Mathis, Dorothy Arnold, Marion Ross.
The Seventh Sin (MGM, 1957) Directed by Ronald Neame. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Bill Travers, Jean-Pierre Aumont, George Sanders, Francoise Rosay, Ellen Corby.
A Hole in the Head (United Artists, 1959) Directed by Frank Capra. Cast: Frank Sinatra, Edward G. Robinson, Eleanor Parker, Thelma Ritter, Carolyn Jones, Eddie Hodges.
Home from the Hill (MGM, 1960) Directed by Vincente Minnelli. Cast: Robert Mitchum, George Peppard, George Hamilton, Eleanor Parker, Luana Patten, Constance Ford.
Return to Peyton Place (20th Century–Fox, 1961) Directed by Jose Ferrer. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Carol Lynley, Jeff Chandler, Robert Sterling, Mary Astor, Tuesday Weld, Brett Halsey.
Madison Avenue (20th Century–Fox, 1962) Directed by Bruce Humberstone. Cast: Dana Andrews, Eleanor Parker, Jeanne Crain, Eddie Albert, Howard St. John, Kathleen Freeman.
Panic Button (Gorton Associates, 1964) Directed by George Sherman. Cast: Maurice Chevalier, Akim Tamiroff, Jayne Mansfield, Eleanor Parker, Michael Connors.
The Sound of Music (20th Century–Fox, 1965) Directed by Robert Wise. Cast: Julie Andrews, Christopher Plummer, Eleanor Parker, Richard Haydn, Peggy Wood, Anna Lee, Marni Nixon.
An American Dream (Warner Bros., 1966) Directed by Robert Gist. Cast: Stuart Whitman, Janet Leigh, Eleanor Parker, Barry Sullivan, Lloyd Nolan, Murray Hamilton, J.D. Cannon.
The Oscar (Paramount, 1966) Directed by Russell Rouse. Cast: Stephen Boyd, Elke Sommer, Tony Bennett, Eleanor Parker, Milton Berle, Joseph Cotten, Jill St. John.
The Tiger and the Pussycat (Il Tigre) (Embassy, 1967) Directed by Dino Risi. Cast: Vittorio Gassman, Ann-Margret, Eleanor Parker, Antonella Stani, Fiorenzo Fiorentini, Caterina Boratto.
Warning Shot (Paramount, 1967) Directed by Buzz Kulik. Cast: David Janssen, Lillian Gish, Ed Begley, Keenan Wynn, Sam Wanamaker, Eleanor Parker, Stephanie Powers, Walter Pidgeon, George Sanders, George Grizzard, Steve Allen, Carroll O’Connor, Joan Collins.
Eye of the Cat (Universal, 1969) Directed by David Lowell Rich. Cast: Eleanor Parker, Michael Sarrazin, Gayle Hunnicutt, Tim Henry, Laurence Naismith.
Sunburn (Hemdale/Bind Films, 1979) Directed by Richard C. Sarafian. Cast: Charles Grodin, Farrah Fawcett, Art Carney, Joan Collins, William Daniels, Eleanor Parker, John Hillerman.
Hans Brinker (1969) Cast: Robin Askwith, John Gregson, Richard Basehart, Eleanor Parker.
Maybe I’ll Come Home in the Spring (1970) Cast: Sally Field, Eleanor Parker, Jackie Cooper.
Vanished (1970) Cast: Richard Widmark, James Farentino, Robert Young, Eleanor Parker.
Home for the Holidays (1972) Cast: Sally Field, Eleanor Parker, Walter Brennan, Julie Harris.
The Great American Beauty Contest (1972) Cast: Eleanor Parker, Louis Jourdan.
Fantasy Island (1977) Cast: Ricardo Montalban, Herve Villechaize, Bill Bixby, Eleanor Parker.
The Bastard (1978) Cast: Andrew Stevens, Patricia Neal, Buddy Ebsen, Barry Sullivan, Harry Morgan, Lorne Greene, Donald Pleasence, Tom Bosley, William Shatner, Eleanor Parker.
She’s Dressed to Kill (1979) Cast: Joanna Cassidy, Gretchen Corbett, Cassandra Gava, Peter Horton, John Rubinstein, Connie Selleca, Jessica Walter, Eleanor Parker, Clive Revill.
Once Upon a Spy (1980) Cast: Ted Danson, Mary Louise Weller, Eleanor Parker.
Madame X (1981) Cast: Tuesday Weld, Len Cariou, Eleanor Parker, Robert Hooks.
Dead on the Money (1991) Cast: Corbin Bernsen, John Glover, Eleanor Parker.