Star of LET GEORGE DO IT
"What living performer has had the longest career in films?" A recent
movie quiz posed this question and gave as the answer, "Mickey Rooney
- his film career spans 1927 to 2001."
Phyllis Calvert is certainly a candidate for second place in such a
competition and has the potential for surpassing even Mr. Rooney. She
also debuted as a child in 1927, and, though her most recent film was in
1997, she continues to appear on TV.
The dark-haired, doe-eyed actress was born Phyllis Bickle in London on
February 18, 1915, the daughter of Anne (Williams) and Frederick Bickle.
She was on stage as a dancer from an early age, then switched to drama
following an injury. Her training included the Margaret Morris School of
Dancing and the Institut Français. Her dramatic debut was in Crossings at
the Lyric, Hammersmith on November 19, 1925, a play that marked the
final stage appearance of the legendary Ellen Terry.
Calvert's early career involved frequent, rigorous tours in repertory plus
occasional small film rôles, including supporting comedians Gordon
Harker in Inspector Hornleigh (1938) and Arthur Askey in Charley's Big-
Hearted Aunt (1940). This led to her being recommended for Let George
Do It. (A plus, as far as Beryl Formby was concerned, was Calvert's status
as a recent bride.) Calvert was paid £20 a week for the 6-week shoot.
'I was learning my craft,' she told interviewer Brian McFarland. 'The parts
weren't all that terrific, but I loved doing comedy, and I made friends of
Richard Murdoch and Arthur Askey. George Formby was protected by
Beryl, so I didn't really get to know him. He was a strange creature. He
seemed to be quite brainless, but he was a brilliant technician. I watched
him with admiration and fascination. He didn't act. He played himself. He
was a personality chap. There's a scene where he goes to five doors in a
nightclub, finding his way blocked by the villains, and he's singing and
playing his uke all the time. The song ends when he gets to the last door.
He had to do this several times during shooting, and, on each occasion,
he finished the song at the exact moment he reached the final door.
'Off the set, he didn't seem to be interested in anything but watches. He
was always tinkering with them and liked to discover what literally made
them tick. It was all right if you were interested in watches.
Conversationally, I found him boring, but I suppose if I kept talking about
my interest in gardening, I'd become a bore.
'He didn't seem at all unhappy with Beryl. They got along well together,
with her on the set most of the time. She made sure he had his coffee at
the right times and sometimes prepared his lunch for him to eat in his
dressing room. Her reputation had preceded her, and the entire cast were
in awe of her. I expected a gorgon, but she was pleasant to me. It was
taken for granted she should be there, and he accepted the arrangement.
He seemed to me a simple man without guile, content in his own world."
(To her surprise, Calvert began receiving fan mail from Russia where Let
George Do It was very popular under the title Dinky-Do.)
Calvert's career took a sharp upward turn with her success in The Man in
Grey (1943) (in which she was bludgeoned to death by James Mason,
another rising star). She quickly became a household name, identified
with the popular Gainsborough melodramas of the 1940s. She invariably
portrayed women who were honest, brave, loyal, and ladylike. Trying to
escape the goody image and break into meatier vamp parts, she played a
dual good girl/bad girl rôle in Madonna of the Seven Moons (1944), but
audiences were unconvinced, sensing her innate decency.
While many stars seek flamboyant visible proof of their status, Calvert
always preferred a modest life at home with her family, taking her
daughter to school, caring for her garden, and preserving her own fruits
and vegetables. In 1950, when she was asked how many people she
employed, she said it was crazy to have a secretary, a sewing maid, a
nanny, a cook, and a daily help when she really enjoyed doing it all
herself.
Despite her preference for home life, Calvert was one of the hardest
working and most successful actresses in England. Inevitably, Hollywood
claimed her and then, as so often happened, wasn't sure what to do with
her.
In 1946, she signed with Paramount to work 4 months a year for 4 years.
But her heart was in Britain, and she antagonized some of her American
co-workers with her super-patriotic (and accurate) insistence just after
World War II that the UK had made many more sacrifices and suffered far
more than Americans had.
Fortunately for Britain, her Hollywood rôles were undistinguished, creating
little stir. She soon returned full time to England, adding TV to her hectic
schedule stage and screen schedule.
In Let George Do It, Phyllis Calvert plays Mary Wilson, a desk clerk in a
posh Norwegian hotel who is secretly a member of British Intelligence,
spying on Nazi agents in neutral Norway. She erroneously assumes
George is a fellow agent. George, of course, helps her catch the spies in a
thrilling submarine finale and gets a loving embrace (but no kisses) for his
trouble.
'I had been a great admirer of him as a child,' Calvert recalled in 'The
George Formby Story.' 'I lived in Chelsea and was always sent to the
Chelsea Palace to see him. He was a great sort of hero to me. So, when I
was asked to do a film with him, I thought, "This is wonderful." [But] like a
lot of people you make films with, they [turn out to be] just ordinary
people. So he was a bit of a disappointment. I don't even remember the
first day I met him.'
'The thing I admired most about him was his technique. He was a very
dull man. I don't remember ever holding a conversation with him, but
when you watched him doing his stuff on [camera], then he became a
completely different person. The funny thing was, whenever anyone did a
film with George Formby, it was put around the grapevine with the girls
that he'd make passes at you. I thought, "I'll be ready for that," but nothing
happened. I did the whole film, and he didn't make a pass at me. I
thought, "Oh, well, there's something lacking in me -- obviously he doesn't
like me." But [then] I realized that it was because his wife was on the set
the whole time.
'On the very last day of filming, just before Christmas, Beryl had to do
some Christmas shopping. I was in my dressing room at the lunch hour,
and a knock came at my door. George was standing there, rather like a
little boy, and he said, "Eeee, I'm crazy about you!" That was all. I think
Beryl appeared the next minute. It was rather extraordinary how he
couldn't resist trying to make it with all his leading ladies.
'Phyllis Calvert was the widow of actor-turned publisher Peter Murray Hill
(1908-57). She died on 8 October 2002 in London.
Eleanor Knowles Dugan
1999
Star of LET GEORGE DO IT
"What living performer has had
the longest career in films?" A
recent movie quiz posed this
question and gave as the
answer, "Mickey Rooney - his
film career spans 1927 to
2001."
Phyllis Calvert is certainly a
candidate for second place in
such a competition and has the
potential for surpassing even
Mr. Rooney. She also debuted
as a child in 1927, and, though
her most recent film was in
1997, she continues to appear
on TV.
The dark-haired, doe-eyed
actress was born Phyllis Bickle
in London on February 18,
1915, the daughter of Anne
(Williams) and Frederick Bickle.
She was on stage as a dancer
from an early age, then
switched to drama following an
injury. Her training included the
Margaret Morris School of
Dancing and the Institut
Français. Her dramatic debut
was in Crossings at the Lyric,
Hammersmith on November
19, 1925, a play that marked
the final stage appearance of
the legendary Ellen Terry.
Calvert's early career involved
frequent, rigorous tours in
repertory plus occasional small
film rôles, including supporting
comedians Gordon Harker in
Inspector Hornleigh (1938) and
Arthur Askey in Charley's Big-
Hearted Aunt (1940). This led
to her being recommended for
Let George Do It. (A plus, as far
as Beryl Formby was
concerned, was Calvert's status
as a recent bride.) Calvert was
paid £20 a week for the 6-week
shoot.
'I was learning my craft,' she
told interviewer Brian
McFarland. 'The parts weren't
all that terrific, but I loved doing
comedy, and I made friends of
Richard Murdoch and Arthur
Askey. George Formby was
protected by Beryl, so I didn't
really get to know him. He was
a strange creature. He seemed
to be quite brainless, but he
was a brilliant technician. I
watched him with admiration
and fascination. He didn't act.
He played himself. He was a
personality chap. There's a
scene where he goes to five
doors in a nightclub, finding his
way blocked by the villains, and
he's singing and playing his uke
all the time. The song ends
when he gets to the last door.
He had to do this several times
during shooting, and, on each
occasion, he finished the song
at the exact moment he
reached the final door.
'Off the set, he didn't seem to be interested in anything but watches.
He was always tinkering with them and liked to discover what literally
made them tick. It was all right if you were interested in watches.
Conversationally, I found him boring, but I suppose if I kept talking
about my interest in gardening, I'd become a bore.
'He didn't seem at all unhappy with Beryl. They got along well
together, with her on the set most of the time. She made sure he had
his coffee at the right times and sometimes prepared his lunch for
him to eat in his dressing room. Her reputation had preceded her,
and the entire cast were in awe of her. I expected a gorgon, but she
was pleasant to me. It was taken for granted she should be there,
and he accepted the arrangement. He seemed to me a simple man
without guile, content in his own world."
(To her surprise, Calvert began receiving fan mail from Russia where
Let George Do It was very popular under the title Dinky-Do.)
Calvert's career took a sharp upward turn with her success in The
Man in Grey (1943) (in which she was bludgeoned to death by
James Mason, another rising star). She quickly became a household
name, identified with the popular Gainsborough melodramas of the
1940s. She invariably portrayed women who were honest, brave,
loyal, and ladylike. Trying to escape the goody image and break into
meatier vamp parts, she played a dual good girl/bad girl rôle in
Madonna of the Seven Moons (1944), but audiences were
unconvinced, sensing her innate decency.
While many stars seek flamboyant visible proof of their status,
Calvert always preferred a modest life at home with her family, taking
her daughter to school, caring for her garden, and preserving her
own fruits and vegetables. In 1950, when she was asked how many
people she employed, she said it was crazy to have a secretary, a
sewing maid, a nanny, a cook, and a daily help when she really
enjoyed doing it all herself.
Despite her preference for home life, Calvert was one of the hardest
working and most successful actresses in England. Inevitably,
Hollywood claimed her and then, as so often happened, wasn't sure
what to do with her.
In 1946, she signed with Paramount to work 4 months a year for 4
years. But her heart was in Britain, and she antagonized some of her
American co-workers with her super-patriotic (and accurate)
insistence just after World War II that the UK had made many more
sacrifices and suffered far more than Americans had.
Fortunately for Britain, her Hollywood rôles were undistinguished,
creating little stir. She soon returned full time to England, adding TV
to her hectic schedule stage and screen schedule.
In Let George Do It, Phyllis Calvert plays Mary Wilson, a desk clerk
in a posh Norwegian hotel who is secretly a member of British
Intelligence, spying on Nazi agents in neutral Norway. She
erroneously assumes George is a fellow agent. George, of course,
helps her catch the spies in a thrilling submarine finale and gets a
loving embrace (but no kisses) for his trouble.
'I had been a great admirer of him as a child,' Calvert recalled in 'The
George Formby Story.' 'I lived in Chelsea and was always sent to the
Chelsea Palace to see him. He was a great sort of hero to me. So,
when I was asked to do a film with him, I thought, "This is
wonderful." [But] like a lot of people you make films with, they [turn
out to be] just ordinary people. So he was a bit of a disappointment. I
don't even remember the first day I met him.'
'The thing I admired most about him was his technique. He was a
very dull man. I don't remember ever holding a conversation with
him, but when you watched him doing his stuff on [camera], then he
became a completely different person. The funny thing was,
whenever anyone did a film with George Formby, it was put around
the grapevine with the girls that he'd make passes at you. I thought,
"I'll be ready for that," but nothing happened. I did the whole film, and
he didn't make a pass at me. I thought, "Oh, well, there's something
lacking in me -- obviously he doesn't like me." But [then] I realized
that it was because his wife was on the set the whole time.
'On the very last day of filming, just before Christmas, Beryl had to
do some Christmas shopping. I was in my dressing room at the
lunch hour, and a knock came at my door. George was standing
there, rather like a little boy, and he said, "Eeee, I'm crazy about
you!" That was all. I think Beryl appeared the next minute. It was
rather extraordinary how he couldn't resist trying to make it with all
his leading ladies.
'Phyllis Calvert was the widow of actor-turned publisher Peter Murray
Hill (1908-57). She died on 8 October 2002 in London.
Eleanor Knowles Dugan
1999
