Loverly:The Life and Times of My Fair Lady (Broadway Legacies) by McHugh, Dominic (best ereader for pc .TXT) 📗

musical, Andrews would add the unexpired time between the two engagements to the six months’ waiting period at that time (i.e., a total of one year).76

This accepted, Levin now had basic agreements from his three stars, but the problem with Harrison’s play continued to plague the entire production. On May 14, Oliver Smith wrote to Levin to say that “it was exciting to hear the show and some of the songs, which sounded very good” to him, and asked the perennial question: “What are your dates at present?”77 Poor Levin had to give his standard response—“The date situation is confused”—but mentioned November 1 or December 1 as the likely rehearsal starting point.78 Smith in return promised to hold himself “in a state of cosmic flux.” Then on June 2 Levin moved his dates slightly to “somewhere between November 1st and December 10th,” adding, “I don’t know who’s going to direct. That will be the next problem we must solve.”79

CBS BACKS THE SHOW; HART DIRECTS

May–July 1955

Aside from finding the director, another issue to be addressed was the question of financing the show. Lerner’s autobiography explains how the peculiarities of the Shaw estate—the rights to his plays were only to be given to any one person for a maximum of five years—meant that it would be difficult to find conventional backers (who were used to participating in profits for many years) for the show, and that it could not be made into a motion picture. If the production were to fail, the stakes would be too high.80 Therefore the team turned to CBS, because a television company could still broadcast either the musical or the play version of Pygmalion even if the show flopped, and therefore it would still be worth investing in the play for the fixed period of five years. On May 23, Levin drew up a suggested deal with CBS, whereby they would put up $300,000 plus an overcall of 20 percent ($60,000); CBS would get the rights to televise the show, while the stage version would get television and radio publicity, with the possibility of television coverage of the opening night.81 The television company followed up on its position on June 15: it was adamant that it would not pay any of the profits due to the Pascal Estate (which owned the screen rights to Shaw’s plays), that it wanted the right to take control of the musical if Levin abandoned it, and that it wanted an allocation of house seats.82 Negotiations continued until July 18, when Levin entered into a final agreement with them.83

The month of June was significant primarily for the signing of Moss Hart to the musical. On June 13, Levin wrote to Laurie Evans and mentioned that a deal had been struck. “You probably don’t know it,” he continued, “but he has been my personal first choice all along.” Levin felt he was “the best possible director we could get” and reported that “he has been enormously and excitingly helpful,” concluding, “I know that Rex, when they begin to work together, will feel as I do and as the authors do.”84 (Levin also mentioned that Lerner and Loewe had “written some new stuff which I think is just great.”) Finally, after seven months of searching, the show had a director.

Cecil Beaton was pleased at the news: “I am delighted Moss Hart will direct,” he told Levin on June 24. “I have never worked with him before but always had real admiration for his sense of the theatre.”85 This letter also reveals several interesting aspects about Beaton’s ideas for the show. He insisted that Levin tell Hart and Smith “how strongly I trust that the production will be set at the time it was written,” going on to say how the fashions before the First World War “can be so nostalgic and charming, and will be a great challenge.” Beaton went into specifics about the costumes and continued: “I am sure Oliver will argue that the furnishing can be made so much more amusing in the manner of the Early Vogue Covers,” adding that the style of 1890–1900 “has really been done to death” and that “that lemon has been squeezed of its last drop!” As well as mentioning his forthcoming arrival in New York to design Irene Selznick’s show—“a full time job: I’m liable to be called at any given moment of day or night so cannot promise that you will have much of my time for the first few weeks”—the designer requested that Beaton ask Smith “if he thinks that muted colors might be a bit of a change and yet have their own gaiety. We’re all a bit exhausted by orange, scarlet and magenta musicals—and like old Litmus paper refusing to react any more. Do let me have the rough scenic layout as soon as possible.”

SECONDARY ROLES; THE FRENZY CONTINUES

June–July 1955

While dealing with these sorts of requests about the production, Levin also began to think more about casting the smaller roles. During his visit to London, he had auditioned a young actor by the name of Frank Lawless for the role of Freddy Eynsford-Hill, and Levin requested photographs of Lawless from his agent, Basil Geoffrey, on June 12. It seems negotiations fell apart after Levin’s trip to England in the summer of 1955, perhaps because Geoffrey demanded a fairly hefty $250 per week for Lawless from the very start.86 Levin also received a letter from Lou Wilson, Julie Andrews’s representative, remind him of the actress’s “whistling prowess,” which he suggested could be of use to Lerner and Loewe in the cockney scenes.87 Eventually, of course, the fruits of this suggestion came to bear in “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?”

But still the trouble remained that Rex Harrison could not leave Bell, Book and Candle and therefore the musical could not proceed. On June 28, Levin, Loewe, Lerner, and Louis Dreyfus met to discuss the situation and decided to approach Beaumont with the idea of releasing Harrison from his contract in return for