kim novak

HOLLYWOOD- Sir Edwin Fluffer once again delves into his personal memoirs – soon to be published as ‘Not THAT Kind of Fluffer!!!’ – to recall Kim Novak.

In its golden years, Hollywood was a dream factory turning out picture, after picture, after picture, after picture, after picture, after picture, after picture. It seems hard to believe now, but I’d wrap one film in the morning, do the crossword with Joan Crawford over lunch, then start shooting a new one in the afternoon. It was a production line! 

I remember when we over-ran on Tarzan and the Tigers of Tai Pei and I had to run across the lot still dressed in my kimono and straight on to the set of Emergency Ward Danger! to perform a life saving tonsillectomy on Kim Novak. I was worried that this brilliant but troubled surgeon with a secret past shouldn’t be wielding his scalpel dressed in a kimono, but there wasn’t time to get changed.

Yes, we worked hard, but we played hard too. And that left precious little time for the important things in life – like getting the laundry done. One day, I was leaving for the studio when I noticed that Thelma Ritter had left her washing out and the forecast was for rain. I had no choice, but to bring it in, fold it up, and pop it in the airing cupboard. 
That’s what it was like in the old days. We were more than talented professionals, at the top of our game, earning millions of dollars a picture. We were all friends. 
Apart from Burt Lancaster and George Sanders who had fundamentally different opinions about the political situation in Ireland.
But that’s another story…  
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