She is funny, and regularly deflates Mitchum when he gets on one of his sentimental, drunken storytelling jags.
Years before Mitchum had landed in Hollywood, another young man had come to Tinseltown from Ohio.
Mitchum puts down another tequila, and I can feel the mood of the room changing.
At the trial, Mitchum said, “No… no… no way I can make that.”
But for the most part, Mitchum, like all the other contract stars of the day, had to do what he was told.
One evening, Mitchum invites me up to his room at the Waldorf.
When the RKO lawyer came prancing onto the scene, he told Mitchum their the trial was a lock.
Mitchum sags against a couch, stares at the lights and waits for the Interviewer—the sixth of the day—to show up.
Mitchum laughs wildly at the story, as do I… but then the mood changes again.
Mitchum, who had always wanted to be a writer like his idol, Thomas Wolfe, tried plays, stories, and acting.