The Press

Starlet played perpetual innocent

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Mary Carlisle, who has died in Los Angeles, was a Hollywood actress who enjoyed popularity in the 1930s as a wholesome ingenue in musical comedies opposite singer Bing Crosby.

She was believed to be 104, but never confirmed her real age, even to her family. As a centenaria­n, she was known to tell visitors that her true age was ‘‘none of your business’’.

With her blonde hair, blue eyes and alabaster skin, Carlisle had the delicate beauty of an all-American porcelain doll. ‘‘This girl has the most angelic face I ever saw,’’ Universal studio production chief Carl

Laemmle Jr reportedly declared upon spotting the unknown

Carlisle at the company’s canteen. ‘‘I’ve got to make a test of her right away.’’

A prolific if little-heralded actress, Carlisle appeared in more than 60 films in a career that lasted about a dozen years. Much to her dismay, she was typecast as the perpetual innocent, a decorative virgin.

She began with minor parts in prestigiou­s films, playing a newlywed in the star-filled hit melodrama Grand Hotel (1932). That year, the Western Associatio­n of Motion Picture Advertiser­s selected her – along with starlets including Gloria Stuart and Ginger Rogers – as a ‘‘Wampas Baby Star’’, which led to a publicity build-up that augured better roles. The parts were bigger but seldom better.

She was twice Lionel Barrymore’s daughter, in Should Ladies Behave (1933) and This Side of Heaven (1934). She played the title role opposite Buster Crabbe in the collegiate romance The Sweetheart of Sigma Chi (1933) and also appeared in It’s in the Air (1935), a minor comic showcase for radio star Jack Benny. She was a damsel-in-distress in the old-dark-house story One Frightened Night

(1935), made at a ‘‘poverty row’’ studio.

Carlisle was the object of Crosby’s crooning in College Humor (1933), Double or Nothing (1937) and Doctor Rhythm (1938), films that boosted her visibility but left her with little to do but smile adoringly at her co-star. Offscreen, she said, Crosby teasingly called her ‘‘Chubby’’ and ‘‘Bubbles’’.

New York Times film critic Mordaunt Hall found Carlisle ‘‘ingratiati­ng’’ as Will Rogers’s daughter of marrying age in Handy Andy (1934), and she held her own that year in a cast of scene-stealers in Palooka, a boxing comedy with Jimmy Durante, Stuart Erwin and Lupe Velez.

She sang the Bert Kalmar-Harry Ruby ballad One Little Kiss to popular comedian Bert Wheeler in Kentucky Kernels (1934).

More frequently, she remained trapped in undemandin­g parts in minor features, among them the sports comedies Hold ’Em Navy

(1937) and Touchdown, Army

(1938). She retired from acting after starring in the low-budget horror film Dead Men Walk

(1943), and for decades was manager of an Elizabeth Arden salon in Beverly Hills.

She was born Gwendolyn Witter in Stockton, California, probably in 1914, though some sources say 1912. She grew up with her mother in Los Angeles.

Thanks to a family connection – her uncle Robert Carlisle was a film editor and producer – she learned of a casting call for chorus girls at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios. With more ambition than dancing experience, she raced to find a dancing instructor and barely mustered a rudimentar­y time step before her tryout.

After her inauspicio­us performanc­e, she was astounded to find herself hired. ‘‘Of course, they soon found out I couldn’t dance, so I was made a substitute,’’ she told a

‘‘This girl has the most angelic face I ever saw. I’ve got to make a test of her right away.’’

Universal studio production chief

Carl Laemmle Jr

reporter a few years later. ‘‘The girls were always devilling me by saying they’d turn an ankle and that I’d have to go on for them. I was petrified, but I only had to dance in one picture, and that was just a flash.’’

In 1942, she married James Blakeley, a British-born actor who later became an executive with 20th Century-Fox studios and a production manager on TV shows such as Batman. He died in 2007.

She is survived by her son, James Blakeley III, an interior designer in Beverly Hills, and two grandchild­ren. – Washington Post

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 ?? GETTY ?? Mary Carlisle with Bing Crosby in Doctor Rhythm in 1938, and in a studio portrait from the 1940s. Much to her dismay, she was typecast as the decorative innocent.
GETTY Mary Carlisle with Bing Crosby in Doctor Rhythm in 1938, and in a studio portrait from the 1940s. Much to her dismay, she was typecast as the decorative innocent.
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