Two actors without a place to play tennis decided to build their own
court, starting a chain of events that would cement Palm Springs’
reputation as Hollywood’s desert playground. One man would go on to
become one of the city’s leading socialites and celebrity icons and
eventually its mayor, commemorated with a bronze likeness at the
international airport.
This article is about the other one.
Ralph Rexford Bellamy, born 100 years ago on June 17, didn’t live here
as long or have as high a profile as his friend Charlie Farrell, but he
left an indelible impression. That he moved on while Farrell became the
toast of the town somehow suits the dedicated actor who appeared in
more than 100 films in a variety of roles, but who is best remembered
as the guy who doesn’t get the girl.
A Star Is Born
The Chicago-born Bellamy arrived in Hollywood not as a budding young
star, but as a star-struck tourist. After paying 25 cents to get into
Universal Studios, he snapped a picture of someone he thought was
silent-film star Dustin Farnum, only to learn he was the animal keeper.
On a return visit in 1919, young Ralph took a job as a bellboy and was
privileged to polish the shoes of the aptly named actress Louise
Lovely. He mentioned that he wanted to be an actor, and she arranged
for him to appear in her Wings of the Morning,
a shipwreck story filmed on location in Newport Beach. He made his
screen debut as a cabin boy, delivering a message to another of the
famous Farnum brothers, William. Bellamy earned $5 for one day’s work.
Back in Illinois, he became president of his high-school drama club,
but his term came to an end – along with his formal education – after
he was caught smoking once too often. Undaunted, he phoned a theatrical
producer in Chicago and bluffed his way into a road-show production of
the Ozark melodrama The Shepherd of the Hills playing the father of the hero, portrayed by an actor 10 years his senior.
Several jobs followed, including a position as supporting player and
stage manager with a stock company in Madison, Wis. His $45-a-week
salary enabled Bellamy to go halves on a car with the troupe’s debonair
leading man, Melvyn Douglas. They regularly drove their Model T Ford to
the edge of town and bought bootleg wine for 50 cents a pint.
Bellamy took charge of his own career in 1926 with the formation of the
Ralph Bellamy Players, a stock company that lasted two seasons in Des
Moines, Iowa, and two in Nashville before its leading man succumbed to
Broadway fever. The ambitious young actor moved to the Big Apple in
1930 and appeared in two plays. Neither was a success, but Bellamy
attracted the attention of talent scouts in desperate need of
good-looking men who could learn and speak lines for the nascent
talking-picture industry.
Bellamy debuted in talkies as a vicious gangster in The Secret Six, which featured major star Wallace Beery and relative newcomers Clark Gable and Jean Harlow.
During the next few years, Bellamy appeared in tough-guy roles with
some of the era’s top draws, throwing punches at Pat O’Brien and Jimmy
Cagney. Later, these three along with Spencer Tracy and others would
form an informal association they called the Boy’s Club, also known as
the Irish Mafia. But that wouldn’t be the most famous club in which
Bellamy played a part.
Racqueteer Ralph
Ralph Bellamy and Charlie Farrell made only one film together in their
long careers, the largely forgotten 1932 Western Wild Girl, but their
names belong together in our valley’s history.
By 1933, Bellamy had enjoyed enough Hollywood success to seek an escape
from it. He found it in the sleepy desert village of Palm Springs, as
had Farrell before him. Here, the two actors discovered they shared a
passion for tennis. Unfortunately, as Bellamy later told the story, the
town had only two tennis courts and one of them was cracked. He and
Farrell used to hop the fence to play all day at the El Mirador, until
the owner politely asked them to stay away and give paying guests a
chance.
The players resolved to build their own court on part of a 53-acre
parcel they had purchased for $3,500. During construction, they decided
to add another court and a sheltered observation area. After adding a
swimming pool, lockers, and shower facilities, Bellamy suffered buyer’s
remorse. They had invested $78,000 on an occasional hobby. He told
Farrell they had to come up with a way to make some of it back.
So began the legendary Racquet Club. Out of 173 people originally
invited to join, four ponied up the $50 initiation fee: Frank Morgan,
who went on to play the title character in The Wizard of Oz;
Charles Butterworth, a specialist in comic milquetoast roles; British
actor Reginald Owen; and Paul Lukas, later to win an Oscar for his
leading role in Watch on the Rhine.
The partners discovered if they raised the fee, more people would join.
Soon they charged $650 a head and had more members than they could
accommodate at one time. They added a bar trimmed in bamboo and red
leather, and a dining room with a dance floor. Rudy Vallee and his
orchestra entertained on Saturday nights. Club pros included prominent
players of the time such as Keith Gledhill and Alice Marble, but
Bellamy still kept an eye on expenses. The used stove in the kitchen
cost $25. The bar featured a $400 clock, but only because gossip
columnist Louella Parsons took up a collection for it.
Farrell went to make films in England for a couple of years, and
Bellamy became the manager of the club. He wasn’t comfortable turning
away friends who wanted to join, or collecting payment from guests who
couldn’t remember how much champagne they had consumed the night
before. On Farrell’s return, Bellamy sold him his interest. The Racquet
Club continued as a playground of the rich and famous for many years,
helping to draw the world’s attention to Palm Springs. Bellamy,
meanwhile, would find greater fame in Hollywood and New York.
Road to the Presidency
A 1937 screwball comedy largely defined Bellamy’s movie career. He
appeared as Irene Dunne’s suitor in a role originally tailored for
British actor Roland Young, but given to Bellamy to play as a comically
uncouth Oklahoma oilman, hopelessly out of his element and no match for
the suave and sophisticated Cary Grant. Bellamy repeatedly said Young
should play the part as written, while Grant offered to take the role
himself. Largely improvised and filmed in only six weeks, The Awful Truth became a hit, helped define Bellamy’s career and earned him his only Oscar nomination for acting.
After losing Ginger Rogers in Carefree and Carole Lombard in Fools for Scandal, Bellamy faced Grant a second time in His Girl Friday, this time in a part originally written for a woman. The 1940 comedy classic began life as the second screen version of The Front Page,
a stage play about newspapermen. When one of those men became Rosalind
Russell, Bellamy became her likable but hopelessly outclassed fiancé.
Grant’s character dismissively describes him as looking “like that
fella in the movies -- you know, Ralph Bellamy.”
“That fella” had appeared in roles ranging from a German POW camp
officer to a doctor struggling to cure a deadly fever, but now he was
typecast. One day, in a studio executive’s office, he saw a casting
note that read, “A charming but naïve fellow from the Southwest. A
typical Ralph Bellamy part.”
Although he continued making films, he looked to New York for more
rewarding roles. In early 1943, Bellamy began a yearlong run in Tomorrow the World
as an American professor trying to rehabilitate a young Nazi. He
followed this up with the political comedy State of the Union. During
that engagement, he met Ethel Smith, an organist who had a major hit
with the Latin-flavored “Tico Tico.” A couple of years later, she
became his third ex-wife.
In 1949, he found himself fighting crime on two fronts. By day he was private eye Mike Barnett in Man Against Crime, one of the first weekly half-hour dramas on network TV. By night he was police detective Jim McLeod in the Broadway play Detective Story.
On Friday evenings he would ride from the broadcast studio to the
theater in a speeding squad car with siren blaring. That same year,
Bellamy wedded theatrical agent Alice Murphy. This union would last the
rest of his life.
In the 1950s he began a 12-year stretch as president of Actors Equity Association, appeared with Gary Cooper in The Court-Martial of Billy Mitchell and received an Emmy nomination for his performance in the live television drama Fearful Decision, later remade as Ransom. But for Bellamy, the highlight of his career came when he got to the chance to play a personal hero in the stage play Sunrise at Campobello, a depiction of Franklin Roosevelt’s struggle with polio.
Bellamy studied recordings of Roosevelt’s speeches, worked with
paraplegics at the institution where FDR had learned to use his
crutches and his braces, and met with members of the Roosevelt family.
The play ran for a year and a half in New York, followed by a six-week
engagement in Washington, a national tour and a film version. Bellamy
beat out Richard Burton and Laurence Olivier for the 1958 Tony for best
actor.
The following decades saw Bellamy appearing mostly on the small screen,
as a guest star on numerous series, as a regular in a few short-lived
programs, and in television movies, including Emmy-nominated turns in The Missiles of October and The Winds of War.
He did, however, make a few more films worth mentioning. In 1966 he had a pivotal role in the The Professionals,
a Western romp starring Lee Marvin and Burt Lancaster, with Jack
Palance as his rival in romance. (If you wonder who gets the girl, you
haven’t paid attention.) He played a sinister obstetrician in the 1968
horror classic Rosemary’s Baby. In 1972 he appeared in Cancel My Reservation, notable only as the final film to star Palm Springs’ ultimate celebrity icon, Bob Hope.
Bellamy and Don Ameche portrayed scheming commodity traders in the Eddie Murphy/Dan Aykroyd hit Trading Places
in 1983, the same year the Screen Actors Guild gave Bellamy its
lifetime achievement award. In 1986, he received an honorary Oscar “for
his unique artistry and his distinguished service to the profession of
acting.” In his final role, Bellamy played a benevolent capitalist
threatened by corporate raider Richard Gere in 1990’s Pretty Woman. He succumbed to a lung ailment in 1991.
If you happen to stroll down the west side of Palm Canyon Drive between
Tahquitz and Arenas this month and glimpse the star commemorating
former mayor Charlie Farrell, just turn your head slightly to one side
to acknowledge his partner in putting us on the map.
No, not Ruby Keeler. The other side. That’s where you’ll see the star for Ralph Bellamy, Hollywood’s leading other man.