As I’ll do now and again, I turned to the Beatles this morning and was listening to You’re Gonna Lose That Girl, a song from their 1965 film, Help! I sat there and said to myself, here’s a song that’s about 50 years old and yet perfect; perfect music and lyrics from the perfect song-writing duo. It got me to thinking about chemistry, how someone can have a special something with another someone over other people and their combined molecules form a powerful chemical compound. John and Paul wrote music while in their early 20s that I’m convinced will be considered classic in a century, and covered by contemporary performers and heard in commercials, but the magic was between them exclusively and when they broke up, each became “just another musician.” I can hear Ruth Peeples protesting and YES Ruth, they were great musicians as individuals, and Paul McCartney certainly thrives today. But can you argue that the chemistry between them generated the best music of the career of either? They knew they were that good together, but they broke up; the creative chemistry was genius, but the friendship chemistry managed, under the immense pressure of being “Beatles,” not to endure.
I’ve been fortunate enough to experience chemistry of my own, personally and professionally (you know who you are out there), but I imagine there are some who never find a John or Paul, the kind of person who becomes a spouse or fishing buddy or bedmate or collaborator on songs or movies or books or cures for cancer. Chemistry comes in all shapes, sizes, and varieties. As I was listening to You’re Gonna Lose That Girl, one of the things that struck me was Carole Lombard died too young, age 33, to find professional chemistry that would have enhanced her fame and legend for future generations.
Think about the great movie teams. While Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland started early (26 and 19, respectively), other stars went years before finding the right chemistry, or never found it. Myrna Loy made dozens of pictures—you’d be surprised how many—before she found William Powell and embarked on The Thin Man and its sequels. Jeanette MacDonald was 33 when she first sang with Nelson Eddy. Astaire was 34 when he met Rogers. Abbott was 36 when he teamed up with Costello. Tracy was 42 when he started with Hepburn.
Of course, Lombard had Gable and their personal chemistry was world-beating. As I supposed here a couple weeks ago, had she lived, I doubt that their marriage would have lasted, but I also suspect that Lombard and Gable eventually would have made pictures together to follow up their lone 1932 collaboration, No Man of Her Own. Their names together on the marquee would have spelled box office, especially if she had found success on television, which Gable steadfastly refused to try through the course of the 1950s. I bet Gable thought about what might have been, had she lived—the sophisticated pictures they could have made together, maturing on screen like Tracy and Hepburn.
You could make a case that Lombard found her onscreen chemistry with William Powell in their three pictures together, but the body of evidence just isn’t there, and Powell was already busy with Loy. Lombard did well with Fred McMurray for two years, but that teaming ended when she left Paramount. Lombard and George Raft did OK for two pictures, but their rapport was better in the sack than on the screen. She had terrific chemistry with Jack Benny in To Be or Not to Be, and they liked each other behind the cameras too. I could see a professional partnership of Benny and Lombard, figuring that in their day and age, the male’s name always came first even if the female had the longer screen career. It has a nice ring to it, Benny and Lombard.
Let’s talk chemistry. How has it manifested in your life? What examples of chemistry do you most enjoy in motion pictures or the other arts?
In Carole’s case, we’ll never know what might have been, but listening to You’re Gonna Lose That Girl (Yes, yes, you’re gonna lose that girl) got me to thinking about chemistry as I’ve experienced it and as others have—or haven’t. Sitting there and listening inspired quite a stream of consciousness, or I guess you could say that the work of John and Paul was my catalyst this morning, which isn’t surprising given the chemistry at work between them.