Memoirs, Tributes, Our History
Dame Julie; Melissa Errico; Brian Belovitch
BY DAVID NOH
Eleven years after “Home: A
Memoir of My Early Years,”
Julie Andrews now has a
second autobiographical
volume, “Home Work: A Memoir of
My Hollywood Years,” which covers
her busy movie-making period,
from her Oscar-winning fi lm debut
in 1964’s “Mary Poppins” to 1995.
To promote it, she made a special
appearance before an audience of
worshipful fans last month at the
92nd Street Y, accompanied by her
daughter and co-writer Emma Walton
Hamilton (whose father Tony
Walton, Andrews’ fi rst husband,
is the genius set and costume designer
behind “Mary Poppins,” as
well as a host of memorable Broadway
productions like “Guys and
Dolls”).
At age 84, Dame Julie (knighted
by Queen Elizabeth in 2000), who
entered to a tumultuous ovation in
an all-purpose, simple, long black
jersey dress and very sensible
heels, is, happily, still very spry in
mind and body, and the evening
was a wonderful and warm celebration
of her legendary cinema
status, though she herself is so
down to earth and unlike any diva
that she would probably blanch at
that description.
Still, Andrews is well aware of
the position she holds in both the
industry and the hearts and minds
of generations of kids who grew up
having her as a touchstone. Plus,
she is one damn good storyteller,
with an inexhaustible fount of anecdotes
— though I know her career
pretty well, she kept coming
up with fresh surprises.
She was particularly candid
about the severe depression suffered
by her second husband,
the late director Blake Edwards.
Though she has suffered from
it, too, therapy — which she has
heartily recommended — helped
pull her through, but she could
never quite understand the reasons
for Edwards’ malaise, with
such a successful career and
happy family life (including two
daughters orphaned by the Vietnam
This second memoir from Julie Andrews comes 11 years after her fi rst and details her fi lmmaking days.
War, Amy and Joanna, whom
the couple adopted).
A clip from “That’s Life!” (1986)
was shown, a fi lm that was a kind
of therapy for Edwards, who cast
family and friends in roles he had
them write for themselves. Andrews
confi ded that the lines she
spoke when confronting the depression
of her movie husband
(Jack Lemmon) were indeed her
own refl ections about her marriage
to Edwards.
One quibble was the choice of
fi lm clips screened. Besides the
obvious moments from “Mary Poppins”
and “The Sound of Music,”
the event’s moderator, Annette
Insdorf, said the not one, but two
clips from Paddy Chayefsky’s “The
Americanization of Emily” were
HACHETTE BOOKS
chosen by her husband, as it is
his favorite fi lm. (What fi lm critic
curates an evening in this way?)
One would think something from
Andrews’ epic, image-changing
“Hawaii” (in which she had an
agonizing, protracted childbirth
scene) might have been chosen or,
better yet, a clip from the muchmaligned
extravaganza “Star!,”
the Gertrude Lawrence biopic that
was a colossal fl op but holds up today.
Its script may have been vapid
but the succession of opulent musical
numbers from all the great
Broadway composers — fabulously
arranged by Lennie Hayton, choreographed
by Michael Kidd, and
costumed by Donald Brooks — allowed
Andrews to display dazzling
dance skills as well as that voice
at its most youthfully crystalline
and pure. Her “Someone to Watch
Over Me” remains defi nitive in my
book.
An unexpectedly special aspect
of the evening was the use of a video
monitors facing the stage during
the clips, so we could watch
Andrews watching them, instead
of requiring her to turn her head
behind her. Her expressive face,
especially during the “Victor/ Victoria”
moments, was truly a sight
to behold. Intermittently, the star’s
own true nature — much more
earthy and bawdy than her screen
image — broke through, to the delight
of all. In describing her writing
process with her daughter, Andrews
said that when they would
reach an impasse over whether or
not to include anything particularly
personal, “A bathroom break
comes in handy. In fact, some of
my best ideas have come to me
there.”
As I exited the 92nd Street Y, I
noticed a sizable crowd of Julieites,
waiting for her at the stage
door, most of them clutching items
to be autographed. The excitement
was palpable, and it was reassuring
to see that in this mediabludgeoned
age the power of a
true and worthy star still exists. I
lingered a bit, myself. Upper East
Siders, strolling home from dinner,
stopped as all New Yorkers do to
ask what was the fuss? I reveled in
seeing their blasé masks instantly
turn into wonder and delight as
they, too, chose to hang back a bit.
It was one of those Our Town moments
that continue to make living
here so special.
A true inheritor of Andrews’
mantle of Broadway golden girl,
Melissa Errico, seems to have
solved the problem of what a diva
is to do when they age out of musical
ingénue roles but are unwilling
yet to don those hideous spandex
outfi ts in “Mamma Mia.” Errico’s
solution: align yourself with a truly
great, eternally relevant composer
as she has done with Michel
➤ MELISSA ERRICO, continued on p.33
November 28 - December 4 32 , 2019 | GayCityNews.com
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