Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Medford mail tribune. (Medford, Or.) 1909-1989 | View Entire Issue (March 31, 1963)
MOVIES Anne Bancroft She Won the Biggest Prize By JACK RYAN Don 't f' Let PREGNANCY Leaveits Mark Keep your tight, dry skin smooth and soft with Morons num. Nfslect of body skin tissues during pregnancy may show up for the rest of your life. This fa mous skin conditioner is especi ally compounded to relieve the discomfort of that stretched feel ing in your skin. You'll find a Morons rum) massage can be soothing for that numbing in legs and back, too. Take care of your body skin with Monras runro. You will never regret it. j- rn At Drug Stores ("S&Sv fl"l Everywhere ViaSat Or I Decter's Orifjiaal fanaala Caatalai Six MtJiully Appravta) laflredleati HIGHER EDUCATION KEEP IT BRIGHT Wo:inPast21 WITH RLADOER IRRITATION Artrr 21, common Kldnar or Bladder Ir ritations affect twice aa manj woman aa men and mar mailt you Una and nervout from too frequent, burning or Itehlns urination both day and nlcht. Sroondartljr, you may Iom aleep and suffer from Head aches, Backache and fceJ old. aired, de pressed. In auch Irritation. CV8TEX usually brlnn fast, relaxlnc comfort by curbinc Irrltallni term in ftronc acid urlna and by analtaala pain relief. Oat OYSTEX at druciUt. Im better fast. MOTHERS FRIEND A Product of 1S.S. COMPANY Atlanta. Ga. 3 TO RELIEVE ITCHY SKIN You'll s-i-g-h with relief the moment you apply RESINOL Ointment to your sore, itchy, irritated skin. RESINOL's therapeutic action quickly soothes and softens dry, cracked skin; eases itching of pimples, piles or hemorrhoids; promotes healing of dry ec zema, rash, chapping, chafing, many similar conditions. Relief guaranteed your money back if not fully satis fied. At all druggists. A arAaLau (f- I aMBaalaVftoafl laVojBjrWlBBBj"aw BaaarvaF aaaiajffW RESINOLTh't' km4 rarfff Tear Skim Diitnttl 171) Sample. Write Kmnol, j. ivuu Dept FWM, Balto. Md. Maybe she'll be awarded an Oscar maybe not; in any case, she's already victor in a far more important ordeal IF things go on schedule a week from Mon day, Anne Bancroft will be shucking off a coarse woollen shawl and tossing her peddler's sack in a corner about the time the "Best Ac tress of the Year" award is made at the annual Academy Awards in Hollywood. Anne will have just finished her performance in one of Broadway's most challenging parts, the title role in Bertolt Brecht's "Mother Courage and He Children," and in her basement dressing room in the Martin Beck Theater she may hear the news that she is 1963's Oscar winner. There is a possibility there will be a little sulfur to spice the usual sentimentality if Anne is selected by the Acad emy for her performance as Annie Sullivan in "The Mir acle Worker." It was from Hollywood in 1957 that Anne, after seven years and 16 films in tinsel town, phoned her mother in the Bronx, N. Y., that she was coming home. Things were sickeningly wrong, professionally and per sonally. She was getting parts from squaw to ape woman, and each seemed more degrading than the last. "In the first years in Hollywood," she says, "I thought I was great. I didn't know any better. Then I did a tele vision show for director Robert Penn, and I realized that acting is more than just runaway feeling it's thinking and discipline. My bubble popped. I knew what I was as an actress a nothing." Her personal life popped, too. When she arrived in Hollywood at 19, Anne was fresh from the close-knit, protective immigrant family of Mike and Mildred Italiano. On the Coast, she lived first with the family of her per sonal agent; then Hollywood took over, and she rapidly progressed from bachelor girl to gossip-column madcap to wife of a young Texas oil heir, Martin A. May. After two years she still hadn't gotten around to furnishing a simple apartment "too many other things came up." After three years. May was telling a divorce court: "She worked from 4 a.m. to 6 p.m. She came home and couldn't talk. Once she wouldn't talk to me for three weeks. There was a lack of companionship with millions of people tracking into the house. She tried to combine two loves one a marriage and the other a career. The career turned out to be the greater of the two." Anne tried to laugh off the break. "The only men in my life from now on will be my father, my agent, and my psy chiatrist," she said. Instead, there were more men and more "B" films. Each picture and each man got worse. Family Wrrkly, Marrk It. IU What had gone wrong? Possibly it was the familiar "too easy, too soon." As a teen-ager, Anne Marie Italiano was shy personally yet extroverted in performing; she was boy-crazy yet was refused dating privileges. Her outlets were Sunday matinees and the fluff of fan magazines. Her ambition was to be a laboratory technician. "Acting was something to dream of, but unattainable," she says. "But just before graduation, a boy I had a crush on held my hand in assembly and told me he was enrolling in the Academy of Dramatic Arts. I rushed home and told my mother I wanted to be an actress. My mother gave me the tuition we'd saved for lab school. Funny, that boy never did enroll." At acting school she didn't have enough money for lunch and was rehearsing one noon when the wife of a television producer spied her. That encounter led to 80 tv roles. Subsequently, a friend asked her to appear opposite him in a screen test. He missed, but Anne got a contract. Still, acting was a foreign word to her; if anything, she defined it as good money, excitement, and famous people. In 1957 came the nightmarish self-appraisal. "I had told mother I was quitting," she says, "but I had told myself I'd take one more chance. I'd had a taste of what real acting was and wanted more. I decided to go to an expert If he said I didn't have it, then I'd quit." ACTING COACH Herbert Berghof's decision was unquali Xi. fied : "You must stay in the theater." She did and won Antoinette Perry (Tony) awards for "Two for the Seesaw" and "The Miracle Worker." The personal reappraisal is more difficult to evaluate. A frugal woman, Anne just bought a $96,000 brownstone apartment building in Greenwich Village "because I got tired of paying exorbitant New York rents." Her romances have been lengthy, but no marriage is in sight. Does she believe bachelor life best for an actress? "It's not best for any woman," she replies. "I will marry, but certainly my husband has to understand that some times I muat work from 4 a.m. to 6 p.m. but not always." Are there such men? "There better be. But I've learned enough to make things work, too. Acting and my personal life are too tied up to gether not to influence each other. Acting has taught me discipline and how to think. It has taught me that I have a lot to give, too." It's obvious that she means personally aa well as profes sionally. And it's equally obvious that her new confidence in herself as an actress extends to herself as a woman.