Oscar Contender — John Mills (1971) 🇺🇸
I knew of his work, the utter professionalism of all he ever does and his ability to tackle ANY type of role you care to mention but when we lunched at the Beverly-Wilshire I wanted to approach him from a different angle — the person, man, husband, father.
The eighty-pictures-in-forty years bit has been done to death, although I would be the last to minimize its significance; in those eighty pics not one was anything but "above the title billing." He started in a London stage revue in 1929 and even without taking your shoes off you've got to figure him for quite a bit over 45 — unless he was carried on in his mother's arms. Well, he doesn't look it and certainly doesn't act it as you would have found out had you been the one trying to catch up with him in his roarings around our town.
Over sand dabs and Montrachet I asked for a few high points in his life. There have been many, well-leavened by a few lows, such as coming out of the Army at the end of the war-to-end-all-wars, broke and ill. By that time there was Mary which made all the difference. One of the 'highs' was being awarded the CBE by Queen Elizabeth — Knight Commander of the British Empire. He was in the West Indies filming 'Swiss Family Robinson' at the time and as all prior publicity re these things is taboo, they were hard put to find a way to notify him. His agent sent him an ingeniously worded cable, the significance of which escaped him and got itself tossed in the wastebasket. Then the Governor of the island invited him to dinner, got him off in a corner and with much harrumphing proceeded to congratulate him! Utterly mystified but grateful, our boy thanked him, promised to try even harder and high-tailed it back to his location. His wife, Mary Hayley Bell, the playwright, was in New York and getting some pretty frantic messages herself. Finally she decided to risk a phone call and so John via pig-latin found out about his being honored. Like the wronged spouse, he was the last to know.
Another high spot happened here. Show-biz families as a rule are not distinguished by their closeness; the very nature of the profession precludes it even if inclination does not. The Mills's seem to be the exception to just about every rule. Daughter Juliet (Nanny and the Professor) invited Mother and Dad over for Christmas. Son Jonathan was winding up a stint as an assistant director and younger daughter Hayley was enlivening the London stage. Hayley's play ended its run and she promptly took off for Beverly Hills and who should follow closely behind but Jonathan. Father John said and I quote: ''There we all were — the whole family — sitting around the table eating Christmas Dinner in California. I looked at Mary and she looked at me. There was no need for words." Lovely? You bet it is. This family has something very wonderful going for it. I don't know whether it's John or Mary or possibly the perfect combination of both. All I know is no matter what subject we started out on it eventually came back to Mary and/or the kids. They celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary on the 16th January with a weekend in Las Vegas. I gather it was a first for them. Glassy-eyed but blissful he announced in a far-away voice that they'd lost their shirts and hadn't slept for two days and three nights!
Although this article concerns John Mills, husband and father we have to touch on his performances. Asked for his favorites he will tell you 'Hobsons Choice', 'Great Expectations' — completed in 14 weeks incidentally — proving if nothing else that one can have both speed and money making quality if all concerned know what they are doing — and the loud-mouth father in 'The Family Way' — acting plums all. I think he'll have a hard time topping his most recent effort, the village idiot Michael in 'Ryan's Daughter.' Whatever happens to the picture and I doubt that much will, this portrayal is a shining example of what acting is all about but so seldom is. I venture to predict that this performance will be shown wherever there is a student of the cinema for many years to come. It should be mandatory for every little boy and girl who feels that a pretty face is all that's needed. What Charlie Parker has done with John Mills's face is nothing short of ingenious. Ears pulled forward, a lump extra on the nose and false teeth plates to create the misshapen mouth — all applied each day in 18 minutes! What Charlie didn't do and couldn't ever do was make John talk with his eyes. Trevor Howard as the priest has the only other part worth mentioning but then he has lines, marvellous lines. John Mills does it all without a word, only those eyes. It's all there: joy, despair; hope, defeat; expectancy, disillusionment; terror, pride, anguish — I could go on forever. If the Oscar for best supporting actor is awarded for best supporting acting then the Golden Boy is already adorning his mantel. If on the other hand the Oscars is still a popularity contest then your guess is as good as mine.
A funny incident to send you on your way; The suits Michael wore in the movie had been made (6 in all) and delivered by Bermans to the location hotel. John thought he had 'broken them down' sufficiently but they looked too new where the sunlight hit them. (Breaking down is aging something new. I tried it once on a London street with a brand new shiny passport. Threw it in the dirt and a bloody bus ran right over it)
Anyway he didn't feel happy with the way the thing looked so on impulse, lay down and rolled in a tidal pool, rubbing sand-mud and crab whatnot in as he went along. All at once his sixth sense told him he wasn't alone and scrambled to his feet to find about forty tourists, slung about with a hundred or so cameras, standing aghast on the veranda. Forgetting completely about his appearance John started forward to greet them and with squeaks of alarm they all turned and fled. So now you know Mabel — it wasn't one of the Emerald Isle's finest it was John Mills. You should be so lucky again.
Doreen Jameson and John Mills sharing a funny one at the Beverly Wilshire.
Collection: Hollywood Studio Magazine, March 1971