New York, NY (January 31, 2012) – William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers, today announced plans to publish, Unsinkable, the definitive memoir and tell-all by film legend Debbie Reynolds. Senior Vice President and Deputy Publisher Lynn Grady acquired world rights for the book from Dan Strone, CEO of Trident Media Group.  The book, to be edited by Senior Vice President, Executive Editor, and Director of Editorial Development Jennifer Brehl, will be published in 2013. 

At the end of her 1988 autobiography, Debbie: My Life (Morrow), Debbie Reynolds talks about finally finding love with her third husband calling him “brave, loyal and loving.” Her marriage seemed like a great success until she discovered that her husband had his mistress stashed at the Stardust just down the street from Debbie’s own newly opened Las Vegas hotel. She then learned that he’d embezzled all the proceeds from her business, in addition to many other betrayals.  For the third time, Debbie would suffer a divorce that left her emotionally and financially bankrupt. 

“I’m delighted to return to William Morrow, the publisher of my first memoir. When I read the optimistic ending of that book now, I can’t believe how naïve I was when I wrote it.  In this book, I look back at the years since then and revisit stories I could not fully tell at that time.  To paraphrase Bette Davis – Fasten your seatbelts, I’ve had a bumpy ride.” says Reynolds. 

Reynolds’s first marriage had ended disastrously in 1959 when Eddie Fisher left her with their two young children to have a clandestine affair with their best friend, Elizabeth Taylor. Debbie and Eddie were America’s Sweethearts. After a year and a half of having her life played out in front page headlines, Debbie gave Eddie a divorce so he could marry Elizabeth. This was one of Hollywood’s biggest scandals. In 1973, her second marriage ended badly when Harry Karl lost his vast fortune and also all the money Debbie had earned during her long career at MGM. As Debbie noted on The View in 2011, “Harry didn’t actually steal my money, he just used it.” The effect was the same. When they divorced, she was ordered by the court to pay off $10 million of his gambling debts. 

In Unsinkable, Reynolds revisits important parts of her life as an actress during Hollywood’s Golden Age.  Since 1970, Debbie’s passion has been saving movie costumes, props, and other treasures and she is regarded as the foremost collector of Hollywood memorabilia. Her dream was to build a museum to house her collection, which included Marilyn Monroe’s white dress from The Seven Year Itch—one of the most famous costumes in the world. 

After a series of unsuccessful attempts, Debbie was forced to auction off part of her beloved collection. The June 2011 exhibition at the Paley Media Center in Beverly Hills was a spectacular success that made headlines everywhere. The catalog sold out, bringing in nearly half a million dollars. The auction grossed $22 million, with the Monroe dress breaking all records, selling for $5.6 million, and a second auction in December 2011 brought in millions more. 

At 79, Debbie continues not only to work but to thrive, performing her one-woman show around the world as well as making regular TV appearances and writing a weekly syndicated advice column. Her new memoir is a story of hope and survival in the face of staggering odds; as her character in The Unsinkable Molly Brown proclaims,“I ain’t down yet.”  Says Strone, “This is a memoir of heartbreak, hope, and triumph over adversity.  It will give readers an insight into how many times, through determination and hard luck—despite divorces, bankruptcies, and plain bad luck–Debbie has beat the odds and rebuilt her life again.” 

ABOUT HARPERCOLLINS PUBLISHERS: HarperCollins, one of the largest English-language publishers in the world, is a subsidiary of News Corporation (NASDAQ: NWS, NWSA; ASX: NWS, NWSLV). Headquartered in New York, HarperCollins has publishing groups around the world including the HarperCollins General Books Group, HarperCollins Children’s Books Group, Zondervan, HarperCollins UK, HarperCollins Canada, HarperCollins Australia/New Zealand and HarperCollins India. HarperCollins is a broad-based publisher with strengths in literary and commercial fiction, business books, children’s books, cookbooks, mystery, romance, reference, religious and spiritual books. With nearly 200 years of history HarperCollins has published some of the world’s foremost authors and has won numerous awards including the Nobel Prize, the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award, the Newbery Medal and the Caldecott. Consistently at the forefront of innovation and technological advancement HarperCollins is the first publisher to digitize its content and create a global digital warehouse to protect the rights of its authors, meet consumer demand and generate additional business opportunities. You can visit HarperCollins Publishers on the Internet at http://www.harpercollins.com.

Actress Entertains Well-Wishers in Palm Springs
By Mark Armstrong

Like a breathless tornado of self-effacing humor, glamour and genuine gratitude, stage and screen legend Debbie Reynolds swept through downtown Tuesday as hundreds gathered to honor her with a star on the Palm Springs Walk of Stars.

Onlookers spilled onto South Palm Canyon Drive to get a glimpse of Reynolds, who arrived fashionably late and joined celebrity friends near the Plaza Mercado to receive her honor. She wowed the crowd with a string of pointed one-liners and bubbly conversations — even turning down a few offers for dates.

“I love Palm Springs; I lived in Palm Springs until my second husband lost our home,” she said, lightheartedly referring to ex-husband, Harry Karl, and the travails of her past personal life.

“These moments mean a lot to me,” she added. “I had a great career – a stinking personal life – but everything else has been fabulous.”

Tuesday’s ceremony stayed focused on the fabulous, as famous Coachella Valley residents offered their own thoughts on the 67-year-old entertainer, whose career in movies, music, on Broadway and on TV has spanned more than 50 years.

Reynolds also will appear at the McCallum Theatre on Friday.

“Everybody in the whole world loves Debbie Reynolds,” said singer and entertainer Johnny Mann, who recalled his own memories of her in the musical “Singin’ in the Rain.”

“That was the cutest girl that ever graced the stage in Hollywood,” he added.

Reynolds also was serenaded by Kimberleigh Funkey, Terra Perezchica and Katie Koller. The trio of 12-year-olds donned yellow raincoats and grasped red umbrellas for their own rendition of “Singin’ in the Rain.”

Over a 10-year period, Reynolds made more than 25 films, including “How the West Was Won,” “Tammy and the Bachelor,” and “The Unsinkable Molly Brown,” for which she was nominated for an Oscar. She went on to star on Broadway and became a headlining nightclub act in Las Vegas and Atlantic City.

Reynolds made her big-screen “comeback” in the title role of Albert Brooks’ 1996 comedy, “Mother,” for which she received critical acclaim. She has been an active supporter of the Girl Scouts and was founder and president of the Thalians, a charitable group for emotionally disturbed children.

Palm Desert resident Mary Lou Greenwood said she thought Reynolds’ performances were always thrilling. But past personal experiences also bring additional respect from the public. “She’s had so many setbacks, and I really think she’s admired for that,” she said.

And Reynolds found plenty of admiration from her former valley home Tuesday.

“I love you all,” she gushed. “Do you love me? Please say ‘yes.’ “

As the crowd struggled to get a glimpse, there was no hesitation: “Yes!”

By Sue Hoye
Published by CNN

Osteoporosis, a disease that affects millions of women each year, is gaining public attention. In the past year, the importance of bone density testing has been brought to the forefront by both advocacy groups and legislative changes.

A national coalition of 110 organizations has put together a public awareness campaign called “Stay Strong! Test Your Bone Strength.” The project aims to raise women’s awareness of the disease and let them know that testing is easy, affordable and available.

Project spokeswoman, actress Debbie Reynolds, traveled to several cities across the nation as part of the educational campaign.

“We’ve been ballyhooing and trying to talk about the bone density test, because our doctors don’t seem to be pushing this enough with the women. And it is vital that the ladies get the knowledge of it themselves and ask for the test themselves,” Reynolds said.

In 1998, Congress mandated Medicare cover bone density testing. “Just like mammography, we essentially have a preventive health care test that Medicare is mandated to cover,” said Dr. Robert Lindsay, president of the National Osteoporosis Foundation (NOF).

NOF is co-convener, along with OWL: The Voice of Midlife and Older Women, of Strong Women Inside & Out, the coalition sponsoring the education project.

Osteoporosis is a disease of the skeleton caused by an imbalance in the body’s bone-rebuilding cycle, resulting in bone loss. It is defined as a bone density that is lower than the range for young adults (age 18).

Because losing bone is completely without symptoms, it is possible a person may already have osteoporosis by bone density criteria and not be aware of it.

REYNOLDS TAKES ON SPOKESWOMAN ROLE

Best known for her roles in “Singin’ in the Rain,” “The Unsinkable Molly Brown” and the more recent “Mother” and “In and Out,” the veteran performer said she didn’t know much about the disease when she was first approached about being an osteoporosis spokeswoman.

To learn more, Reynolds was asked to take a bone density test. The results surprised the 66-year-old actress.

“Mine showed a great deal of bone loss. I was really surprised. I’m very active physically. I’m a dancer for 51 years. I swim. I’m a vegetarian. I really lead a life that you would never expect that I would have this condition, even though my mother and my grandmother experienced it,” Reynolds said.

Nearly 29 million Americans, 80 percent of them women, are affected by osteoporosis. Menopause is one of the greatest risk factors for developing the disease. The loss of estrogen that occurs during menopause can lead to rapid bone loss.

Reynolds’ mother died just over a month ago from what Reynolds said was a decline starting with a fall that fractured her arms. “They feel it did come from being menopausal, because her bones wouldn’t heal,” Reynolds said.

Her grandmother too suffered from osteoporosis, and treatment was not as available then.

“My grandmother was about 4’8″ and she dropped to being about 4’3″. She was very small. As the years went by her back kept fracturing…. She was all bent over and she was in a lot of pain. It was quite painful, and they had no kind of medicine at that time, though now they do,” said Reynolds.

For her part, Reynolds said she has already scheduled more testing, and her doctors will be letting her know soon what approach she should take to strengthen her bones. “Whatever it is, I will do it,” she said.

THE PREVENTABLE, CURABLE DISEASE

With medications, behavioral modifications and dietary supplementation, it is possible to prevent osteoporosis and even reverse its affects.

“Even with severe osteoporosis and proper approach, which is individualized for the woman, you can rebuild bone,” said rheumatologist Carolyn Smith.

In late 1998, NOF issued the first national guidelines for bone density testing and treatment.

The national recommendations grew out of a cost effectiveness analysis that took into account the cost of the disease, which is mostly the cost of fractures, as compared to the costs of diagnosis and intervention.

“And out of that analysis came the conclusions that it is cost-effective for women, by the time they reach 65, all to have had a bone density evaluation,” said Lindsay.

The NOF suggests women under 65 who are post-menopausal should talk to their doctors about a bone density test if they also have multiple risk factors.

Risk factors are defined by the NOF as: a personal history of a fracture after age 40; family history of osteoporatic fractures; low body weight (less than 127 pounds); alcoholism; and cigarette consumption.

A QUICK AND PAINLESS TEST

When measuring bone density, Lindsay said, testing on the hip is preferable.

“Measurements of the hip predict a risk of hip fracture better than measurements at any other site and actually predict hip fracture better than cholesterol predicts the risk of a heart attack,” he said.

By all accounts the test is simple and takes only about 10 to 20 minutes. A patient lies down on a table and machine passes a small amount of x-ray through the body. How thin the bone is is determined by how much of the x-ray gets through.

Besides the hip bone density test, there are tests that measure the spine, the heel or even the finger. “They are all quick, safe, reliable and certainly not painful at all,” Smith said.

Bone densities are measured in t-scores. If a person has a +1 t-score, she has above-average bone density.

According to Lindsay, the NOF found it was more cost-effective to consider pharmacological intervention in women who have a -2 t-score and no risk factors except being post-menopausal and being female.

For women with other risk factors, pharmacological intervention should be considered at a -1.5 t-score.

The standard drug treatment doctors are using is hormone replacement therapy, but other pharmacological options are also available.

The disease ranges in severity. Clinical osteoporosis, or severe osteoporosis, exists when a patient has low bone density and fractures.

“So someone who has had a fracture, whether it be a spine fracture, wrist fracture or hip fracture, and who has low bone density, would be considered to have severe disease,” Lindsay said.

While the NOF is strongly recommending testing for older women, Lindsay said it really is not useful for younger women.

“We do not recommend bone density testing for women before menopause unless they have no periods; then there is a good reason,” Lindsay said.

OSTEOPOROSIS NOT LIMITED TO WOMEN

Men may also get osteoporosis. Although they don’t have the estrogen difficulty that women do, as men age, they lose bone mineral density.

While some studies have said up to 5 million men have the disease, there is still no good way to grade men. “We know what their bone density is. We can measure the absolute number, but we don’t have an equivalent of a t-score for men,” Lindsay said.

Published by CNN

The AFI Associates a major support group of the American Film Institute (AFI) today presented the second annual AFI Platinum Circle Award to the show business family of actress Debbie Reynolds, actress/writer Carrie Fisher and filmmaker Todd Fisher at a star-studded luncheon/show in Beverly Hills. The award, given last year to the family of Walter Matthau, pays tribute to an entire family whose creative contributions have enhanced the entertainment community.
Candice Bergen presented the award to the family at the conclusion of the luncheon/show that was hosted by Debbie Allen. Other stars and friends of the family who attended today’s event included: Meg Ryan, Penny Marshall, Janet Leigh, Ann Miller, Roddy McDowall, Ed Begley, Piper Laurie, Suzanne Pleshette, Beverly D’Angelo, Connie Sellecca, Tom Smothers, Carlton Carpenter and Carroll Baker.

Honorary co-chairs of the Platinum Circle Award luncheon were Penny Marshall, Rene Russo and Ruta Lee. Dolly Gillin and Helene Tobias of the AFI Associates we event co-chairs. The AFI Associates are a major support group of the American Film Institute (AFI) and have raised more than $2.5 million to support AFI’s programs.

AFI Associates President Bunny Stivers said: “We are very pleased to honor a family with such a long and distinguished record in entertainment. Equally important, the proceeds raised today benefit the AFI, whose work in film training and preservation is a cause that we proudly support.”

Reynolds and Fisher are the only mother-daughter combination to each have movies on AFI’s list of the 100 greatest American movies of all time. Reynolds’ SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN was number 10 on the list; Fisher’s STAR WARS was voted number 15.

For half a century, Debbie Reynolds has been one of America’s most endearing entertainers. She made her screen debut in the 1950 film THE DAUGHTER OF ROSIE O’GRADY. Her big break came later that year in THREE LITTLE WORDS, in which she portrayed Helen Kane, the “Boop-boop-a-doop” girl of the late 1930′s. Two years later she wowed audiences with her dancing ability, starring with Gene Kelly in the immortal SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN. Over a 10-year period, Debbie made more than 25 films, including HOW THE WEST WAS WON, TAMMY AND THE BACHELOR and THE UNSINKABLE MOLLY BROWN, for which she received an Academy Award Nomination. She received another Academy Award Nomination in 1996 for her role in the Albert Brooks film “Mother.” Off screen, she founded the Thalians, a charitable organization which has raised millions of dollars for emotionally disturbed children. She also established “The Debbie Reynolds Hollywood Hotel and Casino” in Las Vegas, which housed the largest individual collection of Hollywood memorabilia.

Carrie Fisher, the daughter of Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher, has had a multifaceted career in the entertainment business as both an acclaimed actress and writer. She made her feature debut opposite Warren Beatty in the 1975 film SHAMPOO, but is probably best known for playing Princess Leia in the 1977 blockbuster film STAR WARS, which led to her reprising the role in THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK and RETURN OF THE JEDI. She has made guest appearances on such television shows as “Ellen,” “Frasier” and “Saturday Night Live.” She also became a sensation in the literary world with her best-selling novel “Postcards from the Edge,” which won her a Los Angeles Pen Award. She later adapted the book into a hit movie starring Meryl Streep and Shirley Maclaine, “Surrender the Pink,” and “Delusions of Grandma.” She was recently seen on the screen in the hit movie AUSTIN POWERS: INTERNATIONAL MAN OF MYSTERY and continues to be one of the most sought-after “script doctors” in Hollywood.

The son of Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher, Todd Fisher developed an early interest in the technical aspects of filmmaking. While still a teenager, he began shooting short film, documentaries and commercials, becoming one of the youngest members of the IATSE union. His talents include cinematography, lighting and films. He wrote, produced and directed the nationally-syndicated cable show “Nightlight,” which aired from 1981-1984. Todd’s first foray into feature film producing was in 1991 with the film TWOGETHER which starred Nick Cassavetes and Brenda Bakke. Soon after, he moved to Las Vegas to design and build a state-of-the-art 500 seat theater at the “Debbie Reynolds Hotel and Casino.” He produced and directed showroom entertainment and later became CEO of the entire hotel property. He’s currently writing an autobiographical screenplay about his coming-of-age in Hollywood. He plans to produce and direct the picture early next year.

The American Film Institute is the preeminent national organization dedicated to advancing and preserving the art of film, television and other forms of the moving image. AFI’s programs promote innovation and excellence through teaching, presenting, preserving and redefining the moving image.

By Patrick Stoner

Patrick Stoner: This is a much more subtle performance than we’ve ever seen from you. Could you have done a role like this in your early career?

Debbie Reynolds: No, I wouldn’t have known how to do it. I needed both the life experience and the years of developing my acting craft. And then, I haven’t been asked to do anything in films for a long time – a couple of decades. So, I knew that I better do a good job with this.

Stoner: What did you do to get to know this character? You haven’t exactly spent your adult life as a suburban mother.

Reynolds: Well, one of the things I did was recreate her home in my home.

Stoner: What does that mean?

Reynolds: I had the sets that meant so much to this character built – right in my home, especially the kitchen, which was important both for her character and for your introduction to her when Albert comes to visit. I wanted to be as comfortable in that environment as she was. I moved around those areas in character. I wanted to get that sense of peace and even boredom that comes with long familiarity.

Stoner: How about you, Debbie? I mean, you are still very much in the public eye – with your nightclub act, for example.

Reynolds: I quit the act while working on the character – months before we started shooting.

Stoner: Really!

Reynolds: Yes, that was Albert’s idea. He said, “Debbie, I want your rhythm to be in synch with hers. She doesn’t get up in front of strangers and sing or do impressions. She moves to a different beat.” So, I stopped doing the act so I could adjust my energy — my timing, my sensitivity — to the appropriate level. He was right. If I had been up in front of an audience just before playing Mother, I couldn’t have had her rhythm, her mood and attitude.

Stoner: You must have really wanted to get this one right.

Reynolds: I miss the movies. Still, I understood that my kind of movie has had its day. I thought it was over for me. So, when I got a chance to get back up there on that big screen, I wanted to take it seriously. I gave it all that I had, and it’s gratifying that others seem to be receiving it so well.

[Flicks Website]

By Joe Curreri

There are movie stars and celebrities wrapped in their glittering images, and then there is – Debbie Reynolds. She came to Philadelphia for media blitz to plug her new movie, “Mother.” Lucky to land an interview, I was not prepared to see an earthy, compassionate woman who got right down and chatted in a totally natural manner with direct, honest interaction.

Debbie Reynolds is still a statuesque, green-eyed, blonde-haired knockout. An unabashed 65 in years, but 16 in spirit.

“I’m too young to be old,” she smiles. “Enthusiasm can beat down any wall. Without it you’re a clod. But with it – you’re unbeatable. I didn’t like turning 50, but I love being 65, for I can look in the mirror and say, ‘OK Debbie, you made it!”’

What keeps Debbie going like a 747 is her talent, her curiosity, and her love of people. “If I wasn’t in show biz, I’d like to help senior citizens organize their lives, make things meaningful for them.”

Debbie Reynolds is truly a modern-day legend. The Hollywood and Broadway musical star, America’s darling in the 50’s remains one of the most beloved entertainers in the world today.

The energetic Debbie adores her fans, who in turn idolize their favorite star and beams when she tells them from the stage of her Las Vegas Hotel/Casino “We all grew up together, so why not grow older together!”

Tireless in everything she does, Debbie has starred in 37 motion pictures, including the classics “Singin’ in The Rain” and “Unsinkable Molly Brown,” Broadway shows, starred in two television series and made many TV guest appearances.

“Now, all of a sudden, I’m making movies again after 25 years of no movies,” she says. “I find it difficult after stage and live performances. At the hotel, I sing, dance, do all my impressions. People want to laugh and have fun and have a good time. I give them a little bit of me. Now, all these offers come and I’m torn what to do first.”

Her first is the smash hit Paramount movie, “Mother,” where she plays the coolest “mother of all mothers.” Another is “In and Out” with Tom Selleck, and another about two older actresses.

“I stopped making movies when the musicals ended,” Debbie said. “They offered me weird parts, taking your clothes off, and movies I’d rather not do, and wouldn’t. I made some good movies and I’d rather stop at that, then making all that garbage.

“Today, I proudly show all my movies to granddaughter Billie Catherine. She calls me Aba Dabba Grandma, and we sing and tap dance together. She’s been Unsinkable Molly Brown, Singin’ in the Rain, ‘Tammy’ and ‘How The West Was Won’.”

The spotlight has been on Debbie Reynolds for nearly 50 years. Behind the scenes she has survived scandal, divorces, going broke and a lifetime of personal problems that would have sunk any other performer.

Raised in a typical American family with strong values in El Paso, Texas, her parents moved to Burbank, California when she was 8 years old. Even at that age, Debbie displayed an enthusiasm and energy still in evidence today.

At 16, she entered a local beauty contest and won the title of “Miss Burbank.” Warners and MGM took notice, and Mary Frances Reynolds made her screen debut in “The Daughter of Rosie O’ Grady.” Changing her name to Debbie, she steamed on a fast track to stardom.

A child of the Star System, she ground out two, three films a year including “The Unsinkable Molly Brown” [an Oscar nomination] and the greatest screen musicals of all time “Singin’ In The Rain.” Her recordings of “Aba Dabba Honeymoon” and “Tammy” both sold more than a million copies and had American singing.

In 1955, her celebrated marriage to crooner Eddie Fisher made headlines and the two became “America’s Sweethearts.” Their union produced two children, actress-author Carrie Fisher and son, Todd Fisher. But after three years the “Ideal American family” fell apart. While Eddie and Elizabeth Taylor made headlines, Debbie attempted to squash the anguish of a wife who had her husband taken away by another woman. “I didn’t feel like living,” Debbie said. “You keep busy so you won’t think.”

Her following marriage to much older, multi-millionaire Harry Karl dealt Debbie another cruel blow. Karl gambled away not only his fortune, but hers also.

She fought back this latest setback by working her tail off in nightclubs and movies to pay back every cent instead of declaring bankruptcy.

“You have to put pain in its proper place,” she said. “You have to keep moving ahead. I believe in God and have faith, so you get past pain and problems.”

Personifying her Molly Brown role, who survived the Titanic, Debbie says, “I go down, but I don’t go out.”

When her movie roles diminished, she set forth on another challenge. Bigger, more demanding, and risky. She bought a closed hotel-casino in Las Vegas. Her dream cost her a fortune and her final marriage (divorced Richard Hamlett in 1994).

When real life lets her down, Debbie’s dream takes center stage. DEBBIE REYNOLDS HOLLYWOOD HOTEL, with its Hollywood memorabilia, museum and theater starring Debbie herself, is now gleaming success.

“I’m planning to keeping trucking down on stage and dancing right to the end,” she bubbles. “I plan to sing my last song while I’m on stage.”

Nothing has come easy for Debbie. Everyday, in every way, she’d say, “Get out of my way.” And Debbie’s reviving her career in a big way.

How does she cope with age?

“I think old age stinks,” she candidly says. “Everybody says isn’t it nice to get so smart and mellow. But as we get older it gets harder to stay physically well, so we work a little harder at it. Don’t get lazy. So some swimming or walking everyday. Keep active. I don’t do aerobics. I just do walking, swimming, stretching and exercises on the bed. I watch my diet. I’m part vegetarian and I stopped smoking.

How about marriage?

“At 65, I’ve been married enough. I tried it and had poor taste in men. I still feel fortunate for a wonderful career, and I’m busy as ever. I’ll be singing and dancing at my place. Any films come up, I’ll do that, or whatever else comes up in life. It’s an adventure. You never know what’s ahead.”

Retirement? To Debbie – it’s unthinkable.

Joe Curreri’s Footnotes On Debbie

Now you can experience Hollywood’s Golden Age in Debbie Reynolds’s new Hollywood Movie Museum, residing in her plush Las Vegas Hotel. She has collected countless costumes, props, set pieces and much more over the years – and she wants to share it all with you!

It showcases the largest private collection of Hollywood memorabilia in the world via lavish exhibits. Original film clips of classics like Cleopatra, Ben Hur, Mutiny on the Bounty, Bridge On The River Kwai, Singin’ In The Rain are presented in wide screen with 8-channel surround-sound. These are some of the greatest motion-pictures of all time. Experience these and others by joining Debbie as she takes you on a journey unlike any you have experienced before.

Some of the items movie buffs and collectors will see in the Movie Museum are: The Seven Year Itch, Marilyn Monroe’s famous white “Subway” dress; Ten Commandments, The Arc of the Covenant; Gone With The Wind, Vivien Leigh’s exquisite hat collection; Wizard of Oz, Judy Garland’s costume and Arabian ruby red slippers: Romeo & Juliet, original costumes worn by Leslie Howard and Norma Shearer.

“My Hollywood is gone,” Debbie explains. “What remains must be preserved and protected. It’s a heritage left to us by the great costume and set designers from the true Golden Age of Hollywood. In my museum, you can remember and think back fondly upon those flickering images on the screen. “A certain magic fills the air when visitors enter the museum and you experience first hand the elegance and uniqueness of the motion picture industry, from the early 1900’s to the 1970’s, continues Debbie, who has herself starred in 37 films. Tours daily on the hour…

By David Furnish

In the fickle world of entertainment, Debbie Reynolds is a survivor. The quintessential girl next door, she sang, danced, and acted her way through such films as Singin’ in the Rain (1952) and Tammy and the Bachelor (1957) until Hollywood tired of her clean looks and naive demeanor. Now, after more than two decades without a serious film role, she makes a sparkling comeback in Albert Brooks’ intimate comedy Mother.

DAVID FURNISH: After being away from movies for so long, what was your first day like back on the set when you made Mother?

DEBBIE REYNOLDS: I was very nervous. I had stopped doing my cabaret act a month before because Albert [Brooks] wanted me to lose Debbie Reynolds the vaudevillian, dancer, singer, and comedienne, and become Debbie Reynolds the mother. I wasn’t even sure if the whole technique of film acting was the same as it had been. Albert works with a handheld camera, which didn’t even exist when I was in film. He also writes very long scenes, so it was a very difficult script for me. I had ten, twelve pages to learn at a clip.

DF: Your character, Beatrice, is required to go through some very subtle changes as the mother and son in the film get to know each other better. Was that a challenge?

DR: It was very hard to keep it real, keep it honest, keep it subtle. Now I’m doing another, very funny film called In and Out, with Kevin Kline, Tom Selleck, and Matt Dillon. I’m playing Kevin’s mother, but she’s an entirely different type of mother – a very broad character. I could have played my role in Albert’s film more broadly and gotten bigger laughs. But that’s not what Albert was driving at. His film is very special and intimate. It took a lot of control.

DF: Is there a calmness in your life that’s reflected in that subtle performance?

DR: There has never been a calmness in my life.

DF: Not at all?

DR: Never. That woman in Mother is nothing like Debbie. [laughs]

DF: She’s quite nonplussed by her son returning home.

DR: I would have cleaned out the room. I would have had it fixed up for him. I would have had food. I would have brought in cooks. I would have had a party. I would have had a jazz trio. I would have had all new clothes laid out for him – “Here, pick whatever outfit, dear. You look better in this.” It would have been a whole other story.

DF: Brooks’ character is still seeking approval from his mom. Your daughter, Carrie, has publicly aired a lot of her own insecurities about growing up with a famous mother. Did you connect with Mother because of that element?

DR: Carrie and I have had our differences since she was fourteen. She wanted to have a literary life, and she didn’t really want to go to school to find that. So we had a problem, because I insisted that she finish her education. Now she thanks me. But that cost me three years of not talking to my daughter. That’s life. In Mother, the son comes home because his life is not happy and he wants to blame it on his mother. But he finds out that she’s a pretty terrific lady.

DF: In fact, it’s the other son [played by Rob Morrow] who has a more complicated relationship with the mother -

DR: But see, I don’t have that with my son, Todd [Fisher]. He runs my hotel-casino in Las Vegas, and he’s absolutely there for my dreams. He and Carrie feel no jealousy. So there weren’t a lot of things for me to draw upon for this role. All the ingredients were in the script. I just had to play it correctly.

DF: When Carrie wrote about the conflicts you two had in her novel Postcards From the Edge [1987] and the film version [1990], was that difficult for you?

DR: No, because it wasn’t about me. If you read the book, you’ll see the book wasn’t the movie. She did the movie for money, and she wrote it the way [director] Mike Nichols wanted it. I’m not an alcoholic – she created that. Every interviewer asks, and I just simply say that I’ve been blessed not to have an addictive personality. I certainly have a drink at a party. I might have two or even three. But I couldn’t drink working forty-eight years, never missing a show, never missing a performance, raising five kids. It would have been impossible.

DF: When the film came out, I think a lot of people thought, “Oh, this is -”

DR: Oh, sure. I told her they would, and I took it on the chin. Carrie said no, but I said, “That’ll be me, and that’ll be you.” And that’s exactly what happened. Everyone loves gossip and intrigue.

DF: That’s always been life for you, hasn’t it?

DR: That’s the fishbowl.

DF: Do you think today’s press is different?

DR: They’re much more brazen. Some of them should be shot. But, luckily for me, I’m not the big star I was in my twenties. I would hate the harassment. When Alec Baldwin hit that photographer, I said, “Good! Hit him harder.” You can’t go out in your own backyard. They shoot a picture of Elizabeth [Taylor] early in the morning – they want her to look bad. That’s just cruel and evil.

DF: Getting back to your own career, you’ve achieved so much. Are there any challenges left?

DR: I was a simple little girl from Texas – Mary Frances Reynolds. I wanted to be a gym teacher. But I won a contest at sixteen and became Miss Burbank of 1948. There was a talent scout there. Jack Warner changed my name to Debbie, I did Singin’ in the Rain, and I’ve adored staying Debbie Reynolds ever since. I’m living more dreams than I ever could have dreamed.

DF: But do you want more?

DR: I just want to be like Sophie Tucker and Jimmy Durante and George Burns – onstage performing to the end. If movies come along in the future, I’ll be thrilled to interrupt that song and dance and go into my acting mode. But my favorite thing will always be singing and dancing.

DF: Why were you absent from the movies for so long?

DR: I was a single mother, and I had to make a living. When films changed, they didn’t want me. They stopped sending scripts. But in the theater, everybody accepted me and enjoyed my show. So I went on the road. I played the Palladium in London in the last year of live vaudeville. I played Broadway.

DF: Did you long to do another film?

DR: No, I didn’t like the product. First of all, Hollywood was making very dramatic, heavy films – nothing I was really interested in. Live performing is still my favorite medium. But everybody seems to think Mother is charming and funny and heartwarming. And what more can you ask from a non-epic picture without dinosaurs?

DF: There was a quote from your book [Debbie: My Life, 1988] that I found particularly touching. You said, “Movies must be one of the few businesses where personal pain makes you more valuable.”

DR: I would never wish anyone personal pain, but the more you have to draw on as an actress, the more you can bring personal experience to your role. And I have had plenty of experience. [laughs]

DF: You talked about it in the context of the very public end to your first marriage when you lost your husband Eddie Fisher to Elizabeth Taylor. Was it a difficult book for you to write?

DR: Difficult? It was something I wanted to do before I died so that someone else wouldn’t write something that was a lie.

DF: How do you feel about your own children pursuing careers in show business?

DR: I’ve never thought about it one way or another. I didn’t know what they’d want to be. I just let them grow up. They’ve had their ups and downs in their personal lives. My personal life has always been a disaster, so I offer no example for them as far as picking the right mate. But my career has always been wonderful to me.

DF: Was there any advice you gave them?

DR: Instead of criticizing your parents, just don’t be like them. In your work, just work harder. If something fails, be better next time, Life is a fight. You’ll fall down on the mat one time, two times. But there’s a line in The Unsinkable Molly Brown [1964]: “I ain’t down yet.”

DF: That’s good advice from any parent. You were always the girl next door – that was the basis of your appeal. You don’t see much of that image anymore.

DR: People think it’s too corny. But there are still a lot of places where people are raised quite simply and innocently. They don’t use profanity, they don’t screw their neighbors, and the sister doesn’t screw the brother. The garbage we see today on television is just so nauseating, so beyond words. It should be thrown off the air. It’s better in film, but women will probably always have to fight harder. I work all the time because I don’t wait for work. I create my own. And I don’t stay home and feel sorry for myself. I work for different salaries. I go with whatever the traffic will bear, because I love to perform, and I want to keep working.

DF: You and your son have built a five-hundred-seat theater next to your hotel-casino in Las Vegas. What kinds of shows do you put on?

DR: I do impressions – Zsa Zsa Gabor, Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn, and Barbra Streisand. I do whoever’s hot, whoever’s current. And I do comedy and singing. It’s a variety show.

DF: Do you ever see a day when you’ll just want to have less on your plate?

DR: I hope not, because that would mean I’d be ill. My life is a bit too full, but it’s never boring.

By Richard Corliss

To love Las Vegas is to be a size freak. Every new hotel is the biggest, every new show the most expensive, every glitzy costume the most faaaabulous! And then there’s Debbie. To the owner and star of the Debbie Reynolds Hotel/Casino/Hollywood Movie Museum, smaller is better. It’s also all she could afford. Reynolds bought and spruced up the 200-room Paddlewheel Hotel for just $10 million, which is valet-tip money to Steve Wynn. Debbie makes do with her own perky energy. And makes more of less. “Welcome to my new little theater!” she tells visitors to her nightly show.

“Doncha think it’s cute?”

At 63, Debbie’s still cute. Her audiences, with hair the color of a cloudless Vegas sky, may come to the show thinking, as she jokes, “We’re gonna go see Debbie before she dies.” But the star of Singin’ in the Rain, Tammy and the Bachelor, The Unsinkable Molly Brown and some messy ’50s headlines ain’t down yet. And she ain’t just cute. There’s a platinum will under her blond perm (as her daughter Carrie Fisher suggested in the fond, acerbic novel and film Postcards from the Edge). And there’s a vision in Debbie’s show-biz heart – a vision that looks back to the movies’ glory days, from the ’20s through the ’60s. Who else has built and stocked her own Hollywood museum?

In 1970 when MGM auctioned off a good part of its priceless heritage, Reynolds was there to buy costumes worn in some of the studio’s famous films, including Leslie Caron’s plaid suit from Gigi and Clark Gable’s uniform from the 1935 Mutiny on the Bounty. “I just started buying on an emotional level,” she says. “But after I had bought all this stuff, it struck me: Wouldn’t everybody love to see this?” For years, without avail, she tried to interest moguls in financing a movie museum in Hollywood. Then she rolled sevens in Vegas.

The museum space – a movie theater, showing clips and costumes, and one small room with, among other treasures, Marilyn Monroe’s Seven Year Itch dress and one of the Citizen Kane “Rosebud” sleds – is in immediate need of expansion; it displays only a tenth of the boots and booty Reynolds has collected from other auctions and such friends as Ginger Rogers and Cyd Charisse, Ann Miller and Ann-Margret. Debbie even pays tribute to an ex-friend: in the theater is a Cleopatra headdress worn by Elizabeth Taylor, who seduced and married Debbie’s first husband, Eddie Fisher. It’s all grist for Debbie’s sweet obsession; she now has some 3,000 pieces. “Passionate collectors,” she notes, “don’t become unpassionate.” When she divorced shoe magnate Harry Karl in 1973, she says, “he wanted me to sell my movie stuff and give him half the money. I told him, ‘You can have the house, you can have the furniture, but you can’t have my costumes.’ So I kept my children and the costumes.”

She should be glad she kept both, for this mom-and-pop operation is really a mom-and-son. Carrie’s younger brother Todd Fisher, 37, is the museum’s multimedia mastermind and Reynolds’ main support in her adventure. “Debbie’s dream was contagious, and I caught the disease,” says Fisher. “At one point she asked me, ‘How can you take two years out of your life?’ And I said, ‘How could you take 18 years out of yours?’ I figure it’s a fair trade.”

And with a pretty fair return. In the hotel’s vest-pocket casino, you’ll find a slot game called Debbie’s Hollywood Reels. If three smiling Debbie’s turn up, you get $200 for your quarter. You’re bucking long odds on the machine, but so did Reynolds in her quest to create a museum. Now, in Vegas, she’s come up one smiling Debbie.

By Jon Whitcomb
Cosmopolitan

Mary Frances had pale golden brown hair, big blue eyes and the personality of a tom-boy. Her ambition was to be a gym teacher. On Saturdays, she twirled a nimble baton with the Burbank, California, high school band. In the school orchestra, she was assigned to the french horn. With other boy-shy sixteen year olds, she belonged to the NN Club (NN stood for Non-Neckers). Boys, the club felt, were only good for baseball. The nearest Mary Frances ever came to a party dress was a black taffeta donated by a neighbor, made more youthful by her mother’s addition of pink tulle. It was the volleyball court and the baseball sandlot where she really felt at home.

But she wanted a new blouse, and an easy way to get one turned up in the guise of a local talent contest. After the judges had watched her imitation of Betty Hutton singing “My Rockin’ Horse Ran Away”, they gave her the blouse and the title of Miss Burbank of 1948.

That was her last appearance as Mary Frances Reynolds. A talent scout got her a screen test which led to a movie contract which led to a new name and small parts in pictures for sixty-five dollars a week. She lasted a year at Warner Brothers. Her option was dropped when it called for a raise to seventy-five dollars.

“Not worth it,” they said.

Today, Debbie Reynolds is doing a lot better. She has just finished her twenty-third motion picture, her eighteenth as a star, and her annual income is now in the neighborhood of one million dollars.

The loot is pouring in from several directions: from MGM, which has her for one picture a year; from Paramount producers William Perlberg and George Seaton, for whom she has just finished “The Rat Race” and “The Pleasure of His Company” and who have her on the dotted line for several more; and from TV, which will pay her three-hundred-thousand dollars plus five percent for each of a series of four spectaculars. Her movie price is up to two-hundred-thousand dollars plus a percentage of the profits. She makes records for the Dot label. Through a merchandise promotion, she collects royalties from the department store sales of Debbie Reynolds dresses, pajamas, hosiery, rain coats, lingerie, and jewelry, with the prospect that shoes and sportswear will be added by the fall. All in all, it is obvious that she stopped worrying where her next blouse is coming from. The lady’s loaded, and, in the words of George Seaton, “Debbie is the hottest thing in Hollywood.”

Fifth on the Hit Parade

Each year an industry trade-paper, The Motion Picture Herald, sends out ballots to movie exhibitors asking them to nominate stars who brought in the most money for the box offices. For 1959, the poll placed Debbie Reynolds in spot number five. She was outranked only by three actors – Rock Hudson, Cary Grant, and James Stewart – and one actress, Doris Day. Trailing her, in descending order, were Glenn Ford, Frank Sinatra, John Wayne, Jerry Lewis, and Susan Hayward.

Another tribute to the lady’s fame is a dish dedicated to her on the menu of the MGM commissary. I ordered it one day at lunch, and it was delicious. Called The Debbie Reynolds Parsonette, it was described as follows: Tossed green salad with julienne of chicken, crisp bacon strips, hard-boiled egg and tomato wedges; choice of lemon and oil or 1,000-Island dressing – $1.25.

Debbie’s meteoric rise to the position of box office darling coincided with the headlines attending her loss of husband Eddie Fisher to Elizabeth Taylor. Although people in the movie industry were split down the middle in their allegiance to Miss Reynolds, on the one hand, and to Miss Taylor and Mr. Fisher on the other, public reaction to news stories was uniformly pro-Debbie. While it is probable that sentiment had a great deal to do with the surge of ticket-buyers to theatres showing Reynolds movies, there is more evidence that the tragedy had a profound effect on the star’s work, spurring her to performances considerably more interesting than anything she had accomplished before. As a bachelor girl with two children to support, Debbie has made plain in all her recent statements that her only goal from now on will be to assure their futures.

A Star Not Easily Dazzled

Says a friend at MGM, the studio that built her into a star, “Debbie is a very down-to-earth girl, uncomplicated and sweet. When you know her parents you can understand why. She couldn’t have turned out any other way. At home, the fact that she was working in movies never complicated things for the rest of the family. They took Debbie’s career calmly, and never seemed too much impressed. Since nothing much was made of her growing fame, she has never suffered from the usual attacks of self-importance. When Eddie Fisher walked out, Debbie’s relatives took it in stride. Her mother’s only comment was, “It’s like a death in the family.” Her movie, “The Mating Game”, was ready to roll here on the lot. We offered to postpone it, but Debbie refused. She said she wanted to get to work. During production, she was obtaining a lesson in iron self-control. Incidentally, her friends do not believe she had any inkling that Fisher was unhappy at home, or that she knows to this day why he abandoned her.”

Debbie lives with the two children, Carrie, aged three and a half, and Todd, two, in a big, two-story house on a pleasant Los Angeles street just off Sunset Boulevard. On the evening I went to call on her, the maid had forgotten to turn on any lights at the entrance, and I spent half an hour with a flashlight checking house numbers in an effort to locate the Reynolds place. Through a process of elimination, I finally chose the right one, the only house on the block with a fenced in yard. Inside, the nursemaid had already put Todd to bed, and Debbie was having a serious talk with Carrie, a plump, blonde child with serious dark eyes like her father’s. After her mother had won a short argument on the joys of waking early, Carrie marched upstairs. As we left the house, Debbie said, “I can hardly wait to get home from work to play with my children. While they’re young, they change every day, and I don’t want to miss anything. I have a feeling Todd is going to be tall when he grows up. He was such a big baby.”

All in a Day’s Work

She had just finished shooting at MGM in “The Gazebo”, a comedy co-starring Glenn Ford, and in the course of a dance number for the film she had sustained a number of bruises and other wounds. The studio had run off ten minutes of the film that afternoon, and one of the scenes I watched was the strenuous dance episode. With four boys, Debbie had pirouetted, done cartwheels, been thrown through the air from one to another, and ended up sliding backwards down the tilted top of a grand piano. “Pulled a muscle,” she explained. “And some of the slides gave me floor burns.”

Says Alex Romero, dance coach and choreographer for the film, “She’s an amazing dancer. Most people don’t realize she started late and has only been dancing since she started in pictures. Since she also sings, there’s the dividend of a sense of rhythm, and she has a great beat. When you design dance routines for a movie star who will be working with professionals, it’s customary to assign them different steps from the supporting dancers. That’s so the star won’t suffer by comparison. This wasn’t necessary for Debbie. In “Gazebo”, she works with four boys who are veterans, fitting right into the line-up and doing the same steps they do. She’ll attempt anything. In fact, we don’t treat her like a star at all. Her attitude is most un-starlike. When the second boy from the left stood out with spectacular leaps, she didn’t demand his removal. She tried to be as good as he.”

On the drive to a restaurant for dinner, Debbie exhibited more symptoms of movie wear and tear. In addition to the sore muscle, she had a recurrent cough, acquired, she said, from learning to smoke for “The Rat Race”, which would be her next film. At the restaurant we sat at a corner table reasonably secure from interruptions, but the meal was punctuated by requests from nearby diners seeking autographs. Wearing a tailored black dress and a small stole with an ermine collar, Debbie looked like a self-assured, composed teenager. As she signed her name and smiled at her visitors, I noticed that the women took rapid inventory of her clothes, whereas the men stared at her face. By the time coffee arrived, her cough was disappearing and she was discussing a number of matters in which she has a lively interest.

Debbie on Debbie

Debbie on taxes: “Lots of people have been trying to talk me into living abroad to evade income taxes. I don’t think I approve of that. Besides, I could never leave my friends. Then, there’re my parents, and Carrie and Todd. I know movie people are moving to Switzerland, but for me–no thank you.”

On religion: “I go to church every Sunday morning.” (The Reynolds family belongs to the Church of the Nazarene.)

On friends: “Two of my best friends are Camille Williams – who has big, walnut-colored eyes, and is working in Las Vegas as Dan Dailey’s dancing partner, and Jeanette Johnson – I’ve known her since I was ten. We used to dream of growing up and becoming gym teachers. Jeanette now teaches gym at Glendale High. Of all the old crowd, she’s the only one who made it.”

On hobbies: “My pet is The Thalians, a group of young movie people who help underprivileged children. I do a lot of benefits for them and the work they do is very close to my heart. But I’m always so busy in pictures now that I’m having to cut down on extra shows.”

On interviews: “I’m furious with the fan magazines. They’ve printed things about me that are unbelievable, practically libelous. They’re not interested in the truth. Besides, I think it’s time to let certain past events die a natural death. I’m tired of the whole subject, and I’m sure everybody else is. There’s just no point in discussing the past any longer.”

Five days after I dined with Miss Reynolds, she spent an afternoon in MGM’s still studio posing for Cosmopolitan’s cover portrait. Dressed in a glittering evening gown studded with jewels, her tawny hair worn high on her head and topped with a small chignon, she was in high spirits. For an audience of two wardrobe women, a studio designer, a studio press agent, and some electricians, she put on an impromptu run-through of material she planned to use the following night on “The Jack Paar Show” in New York. One bit was an impression of her good friend Eva Gabor, whose approach to the English language keeps her in stitches.

“Wear the Basic Diamonds”

“We’re buddies,” Debbie explained. “When we’re together we both talk that way. Of course, she can pronounce words like a native if she wants to, but the other is more fun. Take this example: She’ll say, ‘Dollink! Let’s have dinner. Be sure to wear the basic diamonds.’ Or, ‘Let’s take off the basic diamonds and go to the movies.’ Eva says there are few times when a woman should take off her basic diamonds. These are diamonds worn near the face or bosom. Jeweled shoes, or anything spectacular worn anywhere else, Eva doesn’t approve of. This diverts attention from the basic areas. And she says, ‘When making lahve, always the diamond earrings are worn. They are the most basic, and are never left off!”

Debbie’s own basic diamond is a large pear-shaped stone that hangs from an almost invisible chain around her neck. When she was through posing, and had changed from bare shoulders into street clothes, one of the wardrobe women stopped her on the way out. Clasping both of Debbie’s hands, she said warmly, “Thank you, my dear, for the best show I’ve seen in ages. I wouldn’t have missed your performance for anything!”

Debbie is a graduate of MGM’s star factory, and the director of her last three pictures there is George Marshall, an alumnus of Laurel and Hardy and the early Educational slapstick comedies. With the advantage of her early knock-about process as a tomboy, she proceeded to learn a lot from Marshall on comedy routines and timing. “The Gazebo” was her twenty-first film, but it was his 410th. The first two pictures they worked on together were “The Mating Game” and “It Started With a Kiss”. Of Debbie, he says, “We’re a hit off. She trusts me. In “The Mating Game”, she had to jump out of a second-story barn door into a pile of straw on the ground. We knew it wouldn’t hurt her – after all, straw is soft. But she jumped because I thought it was all right. In “Gazebo”, she has a funny scene in which she’s been tied up in a kitchen chair by gangsters. She knocks a telephone off a table, tips her chair over on the floor, and tries to dial the police with her nose. All through the film, she and Glenn Ford had to cope with a pigeon named Herman who plays a main role and gets screen credit along with the other actors. A big ham, he refused to get back in his cage between scenes; and if Debbie didn’t have a morsel ready to feed him, he’d bite her.”

After three straight comedies, Debbie was looking forward to The Rat Race as a change of pace. This is her first encounter with heavy drama in which she tackles the role of a young girl disintegrating under the pressures of life in New York City. Playing a jazz musician, Tony Curtis will be her leading man. After that, Debbie will switch to every girl’s dream of heaven in The Pleasure of His Company – she’ll dance with Fred Astaire.

Debbie Reynolds has another reason for feeling popular these days. No sooner had she got back in circulation than a number of well-heeled gentlemen began pelting her with gifts. Millionaire Bob Neal gave her a diamond brooch. It was rumored that he and Debbie were going steady. Millionaire Harry Karl upped the ante to an electric golf cart, a mink cape, and $40,000 worth of jewels. He said he admired Debbie’s work for The Thalians. It was rumored that he and Debbie were going steady.

The target of all this largesse was born in El Paso, Texas, on April 1, 1932. Her father worked for the Southern Pacific Railroad. When Debbie was eight, he was transferred to California. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, Debbie, and her older brother, Bill, settled down in Burbank.

At Last – A “Period” Film

Says an old friend of Debbie’s, Mary Mayer of M-G-M, “The Reynoldses still live in the same house they moved into then. When Debbie had her first hit record, she spent the proceeds on a swimming pool for her folks. She practically grew up on our lot. When she was making Three Little Words and Two Weeks With Love, she was going through a period when she ate voraciously. During the second film, she was always munching dill pickles, and the pickles were finally written into the script. Her brother is a studio make-up man. What I loved about Debbie was her naive enthusiasm. In 1951 , about to start her fifth picture, she was bubbling over. ‘I’m so happy!’ she caroled, ‘I’m finally going to do a period picture!’ Well, the picture she meant was Singin’ in the Rain, and the ‘period’ was 1924″.

To help Miss Reynolds run a career, a house, and a family, a staff of seven people is required: a nursemaid, maid, cook, two gardeners, a woman secretary, and a personal press agent. Her divorce from Mr. Fisher was final in February, and under its terms she received custody of the children and $6,000 a year for their support, a $115,000 house, and $30,00 a year alimony. One of the clauses in her Perlberg-Seaton movie contract provides that she may keep all the modern clothes she wears on the screen. From The Pleasure of His Company she will acquire a large wardrobe designed by Edith Head, including a $4,000 bridal gown. “I’ll keep that for my daughter’s wedding”, she says. Her commercial endorsement of teenage clothes and accessories is also aimed at security for the children. She worked on the designing with manufacturers, and took an active part in setting the tone for products to be marketed under her name. The promoters estimate that at least $4 million dollars worth of Reynolds sponsored merchandise will be on counters this year. If Debbie’s plans work out, Todd and Carrie Fisher will be two of the most heavily endowed children in Hollywood.

The first column I ever wrote for this magazine (1948) was about another Debbie Reynolds, a model who lived in Westport, Connecticut. When the movie Debbie visited New York in the early ’50s, to make location shots for a film, the editor of Cosmopolitan suggested an article to be called “The Two Debbie Reynoldses”. Inquiries produced the information that the actress was registered with her mother at a mid-town hotel. But the piece was never written. Explained a press agent over the telephone “the little chick is holed up at The Plaza–and the big chick won’t let her out.”

Fake Feathers for the Chick

These days, “the little chick” finds it hard to get out for other reasons. As a headline celebrity, she can’t go out in public without causing commotion, and just walking down the street alone can precipitate a mob scene. Ever since she was a very small chick, one of her greatest pleasures has been going to the movies. One day in M-G-M’s make-up and hairdressing building, she sat before a mirror waiting to dry after a hair tint job.

“Want to see my new disguise?” she inquired.

An attendant handed her a black wig. She put it on and looked critically at the reflection facing her.

“I plan to wear this to the movies,” she said, “so I can eat my popcorn in peace.”

By Earle Hawley
Published in Photoplay Magazine

From the pretty, brown-eyed blonde receptionist at the MGM administration building next to the studio lot in Culver City, we picked up our gate pass to see Debbie Reynolds.

Ever since last September, when Eddie Fisher walked out of her life, Debbie has done the most natural, most instinctive thing she could do. She threw herself into her work.

It seemed ironic, I thought, as I walked toward the Publicity building, past Casting, Production, Costumes, Properties, that her work was playing a lightheaded, gay story of love, romance, dating, courtship—and marriage.

I met Mary Mayer, a distinguished-looking, gray-haired woman who has been with the studio since the early 1930’s. Greeting me in her office in Publicity, she said, “We’ll go right over to Debbie’s dressing room.” As we threaded our way along the crowded streets, she told me:

”I’ve seen many stars come and go over the years,” Mary said. “But seldom have I met one as unusual as Debbie. It’s not simply that she’s cute, and lively and vivacious. She has a courage, a strength and a drive that make her unusual.

”I may sound old-fashioned, but I find these qualities very appealing. In many ways she reminds me of the young Carole Lombard.”

Debbie’s dressing room, a stucco cottage set well back on the lot, was beautifully landscaped with lawns and shrubs. Beds of nasturtiums, zinnias and marigolds flanked the doorway.

Mary knocked at the door. There was no answer.

”She’s probably still on the set,” she said. “She does that. If the take hasn’t been just right she insists that they do it over and over again. She never spares herself. She only works to satisfy the director, to give him exactly what he wants.”

We walked into the dressing room. A rose beige wall-to-wall carpet contrasted with the pale gray walls. A twenty-foot long sectional ran along two walls of the room, curved at the corner. It was covered with a flower patterned quilted chintz.

A French provincial desk was at another wall, and two chairs, covered with saffron colored upholstery, were in the room.

A red leather engagement book with “Debbie” printed in gold letters on its cover lay atop the desk.

In the center of the room was a small, low table, glass topped. It was scarcely eight inches high,

Mary and I talked for several minutes about the stars of yesteryear, about their triumphs and tragedies. We spoke of Janet Gaynor, Jean Harlow, Carole Lombard.

Suddenly the dressing room door was pushed open, and a white toy French poodle bounded in.

”Rocky!” a girlish voice called. And Debbie rushed in.

”Rocky, come back here,” she commanded. But the dog had scampered under the sofa, his leash trailing behind. Debbie got down on her hands and knees, reached under the sofa, grabbed the leash.

She turned her head, looked over at me.

”Hi,” she said. “I’m Debbie Reynolds. Rocky, you come out of there.” And she dragged the dog back.

She sat on the floor, cuddled Rocky happily, and let him nuzzle her cheek. Then she unhooked his leash, and stood up.

”Excuse me a minute,” she said. “I have to make a call to the house.” And she picked up the white telephone on and end table near the sofa.

”How’s Carrie?” was the first thing she asked when a maid apparently answered at home. “And Todd?” she asked.

As Debbie talked to the maid, a white-coated waiter entered, laid silver and condiments on the low table. Debbie held her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, called to him: “Milk to drink for me.”

Debbie had the maid put Carrie on the phone.

”Hello, Carrie,” she said. And then she listened, a serious expression on her face, as Carrie must have spoken a child’s halting message.

Debbie smiled happily, then threw back her head and laughed. “All right, love. You be a good girl; I’ll see you soon. Put Christine back on, will you?”

Debbie talked to the maid for a few minutes longer, then she hung up the phone.

”What did Carrie say?” I asked.

”Uh, uh. Secret.” Then she kicked off her shoes, and sat down on the floor at the side of the glass topped table.

”I have to get up at 6:00 AM even though we don’t start shooting until 9:00. It’s a long way from Holmby Hills to this MGM studio here in Culver City.”

She turned to Mary. “Mary,” she said, “I got a letter the other day from a girl at Monticello High School. She wrote and asked me if she could visit me here on the set of The Mating Game.

”I wrote her back and said, ‘by all means, yes.’ And she’s coming at four o’clock today. Can you take care of the arrangements?”

”Certainly, Debbie,” Mary said.

”Debbie,” I asked, “Do you call home every morning from your dressing room?”

She smiled. “I call home all the time,” she said, “even when I know the children will be visiting me here later in the day.”

”Does Eddie?” I asked.

”He does. And he comes over to see the children every day while I’m here at the studio. Eddie loves both the children very much.”

”But you don’t see him?”

”No.”

”Do you think there’s a chance that he will come back to you?” I asked.

”You’ll have to ask Eddie about that,” she said. “That’s one thing I will not discuss. Ask me anything else.”

Mary returned from the telephone just then, saying, “There’s a call from the Thalian office. They want to know if you can call them later this afternoon. It’s about the benefit dance.”

”I will,” Debbie said. Turning to me, she said, “We’re up to our ears in work for this dance. It will help pay for the new clinic we are building on the grounds of Mt. Sinai hospital.

”We have raised almost $40,000 and that’s a good start,” she said, rather proudly, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Miss Reynolds, Miss Reynolds. Call on the set.”

”Ah,” she laughed, putting on her shoes again. “Excuse me, I’ll see you later.”

”Can we watch?” I asked Miss Mayer.

”Yes, but let’s give Debbie a chance to get ready.”

When we arrived on the set, brilliant lights were trained on the rough boards that created the illusion of a complete building. I couldn’t see any organization in the swarm of technicians, the babble and clatter. But Miss Mayer just said serenely, “We’re in luck. They’re waiting for a camera set-up.”

We were almost on top of a tiny figure in a camp chair before I recognized Debbie, absorbed in the daily newspaper. At the sound of Miss Mayer’s voice, she looked up. “I’ve studied my lines,” she explained like a schoolgirl caught not working in study hall. “I know them.” And she folded the paper. I caught a glimpse of an unfortunately appropriate headline, heralding another Hollywood divorce case, though a long-expected one.

”Do you mind talking, just before going into a scene?” I asked.

”No,” she laughed. “Not at all.”

”You’ve been in the hospital for a five-day checkup recently? Are you sure you’re not rushing it, coming back so soon?”

”I’m much better, thank you. Couldn’t wait to get back!”

”Who visited you while you were in the hospital?”

”Nobody,” she said firmly. “Except my mother, of course. You see, I was supposed to be resting, and the doctor thought it best not to allow any visitors. They did let me receive phone calls, though. I think everybody I’ve ever known called me or tried to call me!” she laughed.

Turning serious, she continued, “But I was there to rest. And I did. If there was ever a time and place to reconsider things, it was then and there, in St. Joseph’s. And I had so many things to think about.”

She was silent, so I tried to draw her out. “No flashbulbs, no interviews, no headlines—you must have appreciated those five days of privacy.”

”I did indeed,” Debbie said. “And when I came out, I knew that I had decided to live my life happily, no matter what may happen.”

”Then you’ve decided…?”

”To be happy with what I have,” she finished the sentence for me.

”And that is?”

”Carrie and Todd. My chief concern is my two children. They are the new life, the thing I pin all my hopes on. Oh, I’m still going to work though—“

”Miss Reynolds!” the voice called out. “Ready on the set, Debbie!”

Director George Marshall, wearing the jaunty baseball cap that has long been his trademark, quietly began explaining the scene to her.

A hairdresser came and fussed over her coiffure—a casual style—and for a few minutes she seemed lost in thought. When Marshall’s voice rang out “All right!” I saw Debbie’s head turn toward the hairdresser and her lips frame a quick “Thanks.”

The hairdresser spotted Miss Mayer and came to join us while Debbie went in position for the scene. Introduced as Ann Kirk, she told me quietly, “I love to make up Debbie’s hair. It’s easy to manage and easy to change. She has a remarkably pretty face. She’s getting better looking as she matures, you know.”

The familiar shout “Quiet!” cut off our conversation, and I settled in Debbie’s abandoned camp chair to water her work. Her co-star Tony Randall stepped into the scene. Tony’s a real comedy pro, famous for his sense of timing, and he batted the saucy lines at her in his best smooth style. Debbie batted them right back, matching him all the way.

”Print it!” Marshall said at the finish, while Debbie finished the last steps of her dance routine, collapsing into director Marshall’s arms, laughing.

”Debbie, you’re a trouper!” the director smiled broadly. “And troupers gotta eat. Let’s break for lunch.”

”Lunch!” bawled a loud stagehand’s voice, and all the fine orderliness of the take broke up into chaos again.

I was ready when Debbie came toward me, but she went right past me, arms outstretched. It wasn’t a snub; I turned to see her bending over with her arms full of Carrie, giving the youngster a mama-bear hug. “Going to eat you up!” she growled.

Giggling, Carrie said excitedly, “Mommy danced!”

”Were you there all this time, love?” Debbie turned to the smiling woman who held little Todd in her arms. “Marie, you certainly managed to keep the two of them quiet. How’s my boy?” She kissed her son, then told Miss Mayer and me, “Come along. We’ll all have lunch in my dressing room.”

As we trooped off the set, past stacks of assorted props, Carrie pranced ahead, announcing, “See? New shoes!” She pointed to her sturdy, conspicuously clean sneakers.

”Are they dancing shoes?” her mother asked.

”Yes!” Carrie crowed, promptly putting on a demonstration, ending affectionately by hugging her mother’s leg.

By the time we finished our walk far toward the back of the Metro lot, Carrie had lost a bit of her steam, and Marie was carrying her, while Debbie took Todd.

”Milk to drink for me,” Debbie reminded the waiter who had arrived with the lunch. “And for the children.”

”Yes, Miss Reynolds. Their orders are all ready, too.”

”Good.” Turning to me, Debbie said, “I’m famished!” She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the floor beside the table. “Do take off your coat. And sit down.”

The waiter reappeared, bringing the grownups salad and New York-cut steaks, each done to succulent perfection, medium rare. Seated on the floor beside us, Carrie bravely tackled a small hamburger and carrots and peas. Marie chose the couch, where she could divide her time between eating her own lunch and keeping Todd from scattering his over the chintz. Luckily, Miss Mayer picked a seat near the telephone, because it rang as soon as we started eating.

”…I’m sorry,” she said. “She’s having lunch now, and she’s due back on the set at one sharp. I’ll give her the message.” She didn’t give the message then for Debbie was busy listening to some whispered confidence from Carrie while turning around, not to overlook Todd, to compliment him on his progress with lunch. During the afternoon she’d have moments to talk more freely, I knew; so I just watched her and the children and noticed how perfectly all her words and actions fitted the picture of Debbie drawn by her friends.

Lita Calhoun had told me: “She’s a very considerate person brought up to appreciate the things that have come to her,” Lita went on, “she’s not accustomed to having things handed to her on a silver platter. She has moral strength and is in fact a real, normal girl. That’s unusual for a person in this business. I must say she is much more level-headed than either of the two people involved in…this thing.”

Suddenly, Debbie looked up at me. “Want to go on?” she asked.

”Uh-huh,” I answered. “You say you’re going to continue to work, Debbie, but isn’t it going to be tough? I mean isn’t it going to be difficult having to be both a father and a mother to your children?”

Her green eyes flashed, though she betrayed no other emotion. Quietly she said, “My children have two parents. Eddie is still the father of his children.”

And then she repeated what she had said earlier. “Eddie loves his children very much.” For just the briefest moment she turned away. And I thought back to Lita Calhoun’s remark to me: “I believe Debbie feels that once Eddie gets Elizabeth Taylor out of his system, there might be a reconciliation. But she is not counting on it too heavily. She had made up her mind to face the future and to work hard at her career.” Then she looked back at me.

”There is one thing I should say,” she said. “I suppose I’m the sort of person who trusts everyone. I think you have to be that way to be happy. But when I find that someone whom I have trusted has disappointed me – then – then I guess I just start building all over again.”

”That’s really all you can do, isn’t it?”

The phone rang, Mary answered it. She listened for a moment, then said, “All right, George. Yes, I’ll tell her.” She hung up.

”They want you back on the set, if you’re ready, Debbie.” That was George Marshall. He says he’d like to start shooting at 1 o’clock sharp,” she said.

”I’m ready,” Debbie said. “But wait. Where’s Rocky?” I had completely forgotten about the little dog. We looked around the room, but he wasn’t in sight. Nor was he in the adjacent room with its makeup table.

”Rocky,” Debbie called.

There was a growl from beneath the sofa. And there he was, munching on a piece of steak he had filched from one of the plates.

”Rocky,” Debbie said. “Come out of there.” And he did. “You know we have to go back to work,” she said. Rocky wagged his tail happily. Debbie snapped the leash onto his collar, then started for the door.

At the door, she stopped. Looking at me, she said, “There’s happiness somewhere for everyone, don’t you think?”

”Yes, Debbie,” I said. “I guess there is.”

She smiled quickly. “Bye,” she said. And then she was gone.

NOTE: The writer of this 1959 fan magazine article, Earle Hawley, got in touch with DR Online in 2002 to say that a great deal of this piece was fabricated by the magazine editors – that he had never actually visited Debbie on the set.

“Part of the interview as featured here is not factual, specifically the portion about my ‘visit’ to the set. I never went with Debbie to the set nor met the director, and much of the article past this point was added later, possibly by the PR people. The original article appeared in Photoplay magazine, of which he has a copy and it does not include this portion of the interview.” 

An interesting insight behind-the-scenes in Hollywood publicity!