Why Fred MacMurray Is Not a Great Actor

Fred MacMurray is not a great actor because today he is mostly remembered for being the father of My Three Sons on television, and although certain people have fond memories of that show, it's no one's idea of Great Acting.

Fred MacMurray is not a great actor because, unlike such well loved contemporaries as James Stewart, Humphrey Bogart, or James Cagney, he gave many of his best performances in romantic comedies, playing second fiddle to stars like Carole Lombard, Claudette Colbert, and Barbara Stanwyck.

Fred MacMurray is not a great actor because unlike that other romantic comedy star, Cary Grant, his appeal was not an unattainably glamorous sophisticate, but a charming, handsome boy next door, and when people seek out film stars of the past, they are typically drawn to the lost world of Hollywood glamour, not the guy who seems like he was probably born in your hometown.

Fred MacMurray is not a great actor because instead of working with Alfred Hitchcock or John Ford, he worked with "set dresser" Mitchell Leisen and king of the 50s melodramas, Douglas Sirk.

Fred MacMurray is not a great actor because one of his greatest, key performances, that of Walter Neff in Double Indemnity, is typically misinterpreted as a weak man who is led astray by a demon in female form, ignoring the fact that MacMurray and the screenplay carefully layer Neff's dark, smug restlessness long before he ever sees Barbara Stanwyck's anklet, making it not a tale of an innocent, weak man led astray, but of a callous schemer always looking to get a leg up meeting his seemingly perfect partner in crime.

Fred MacMurray is not a great actor because nobody took him seriously.

Fred MacMurray is not a great actor because it is very possible, if one really looked closely, if someone were to take even his lightest movies seriously and truly sit down and watch his performances, one just might find that he might be a great actor after all.

But, seriously, he's not a great actor. I mean, he played Rosalind Russell's secretary. What kind of great actor would play Rosalind Russell's secretary?

What Your Fantasy Old Movie Boyfriend Says About You

These are 100% true, based on countless hours of exhaustive research. Also, yes, you are always allowed to have more than one.

Cary Grant:
You are an intelligent and sensible person who has been brought up correctly and has excellent taste.

Humphrey Bogart:
You probably think you can change him. Because you just know, deep down...

James Stewart:

All you really want out of life is the simple things. Nothing wrong with that.

Fred Astaire:

You are probably a dancer. Or you're just super elegant.

Paul Newman:

You have eyes.

Gregory Peck:

You really just have a fixation on father-figures. It's okay, you can admit it. Or maybe you just like cheekbones?

Marlon Brando:

You like bad boys. Because they're so sensitive. Even if they slap you around, it's just because they've got feelings, you know? And leather jackets. Because you're probably into leather, too.

Henry Fonda:

You always like good guys, even when they're kind of pricks. Maybe... it's kind of a turn-on, actually? And you feel kind of weird about it? Because everybody else likes Marlon Brando?

Tyrone Power:

You like art, architecture, nature, and any hobby where you get to look at beautiful things.

Errol Flynn:

You are maybe a Disney princess.

Gary Cooper:

You appreciate fine things and you don't particularly want conversation.

Orson Welles:

You do particularly want conversation.

Montgomery Clift:

You are a) gay and b) super tragic. Or are c) Elizabeth Taylor. Which is kind of like a) and b) but female.

Gene Kelly:

You like bodies. And people who know what to do with their bodies.

William Powell:

You are simply too sophisticated for words, so you'll just down a martini and fire off a clever bon mot.

Clark Gable:

You probably really like Gone With the Wind, don't you? Admit it.

Leslie Howard:

Oh my god you like Gone With the Wind SO MUCH.

Ronald Colman:

You think things are always more romantic when they're British.

Charles Boyer:

You think things are always more romantic when they're French.

James Mason:

You are an intelligent, educated person who, despite your best interests, always seem to be attracted to guys you think are trying to kill you. And you really like Victorian lit. At least the Brontës.

Laurence Olivier:

You also like Victorian lit, but probably prefer Jane Austen.

Rudolph Valentino:

You are really super old school and dramatic, and you probably fantasize about dying for love. Or at least dying for love in a movie.

James Dean:

You have SO! MANY! FEELINGS! Ohmigod so many.

Rock Hudson:

You... are so gay. I mean, you are the gayest. If you were any gayer, you'd be Mae West.

Joel McCrea:

So you know when a guy is really, superbly attractive and has absolutely no idea how hot he is? You like that.

Fred MacMurray:

You've probably always had a crush on the boy from back home even though you didn't stick around for him, you know? But you like to reminisce, at least.

Randolph Scott:

You maybe kind of like country boys even though you feel you shouldn't because come on, seriously, but then you remember he was Cary Grant's "roommate" and you congratulate yourself on having excellent taste.

Spencer Tracy:

I guess you're... Katharine Hepburn?

John Wayne:

You are probably very old. Okay, maybe you're just conservative? Or outdoorsy? Or just really into traditional gender roles and your favorite actress is probably June Allyson? Or maybe you're just my Grandma. Hi, Grandma.

Dirk Bogarde:

You are my new best friend. Seriously. Let's do lunch.

In Memory of Ruby Dee

Why do they all have to go?

We'll miss you, Ruby Dee. You were one of the greats. I hope you're reunited with Ossie Davis in a world where everything you've fought for has borne fruit.

I want to take this moment to encourage everyone to see Purlie Victorious. I don't know how available it is, but I found it at my library, so it can't be that bad. A filmed version of Ossie Davis's play, and starring Davis, Dee, and Beah Richards (not to mention Alan Alda), it's a fascinating, hilarious exploration of stock black character types, a brilliant deconstruction of the performative natures of stereotypes like the Southern Baptist preacher and the shuffling servant. And Ruby Dee gets to exhibit her pitch perfect comic timing throughout. If it isn't enough to make you appreciate one of the most important couples of twentieth century art, I don't know what would do it.

Thank you, Ruby Dee. You've done so much for us, and we never did enough for you.