NOEL COWARD
The American Heritage Dictionary defines the word “dandy” as "a man who affects extreme elegance in clothes and manners." Take a gander at the illustration next to the definition, and you could easily see a photograph of entertainment legend Noel Coward.
While it's hard to find one word to capture the scope of Coward's career -- his credits list on and on –- in terms of style he's most definitely remembered for elegance, wit, and charm. These brilliant qualities clung to everything he did, whether as a playwright, screenwriter, actor, producer, author, director, composer, or nightclub performer.
An extraordinary persona, Coward defined celebrity long before Elvis or Madonna hit the scene. He began as a stage actor at 12 and eventually emerged as a playwright sensation with "The Vortex” in 1924. Out came the ever-racy Coward's talent for controversy, as he starred in and directed this tale of a drug addict who is, for all intents and purposes, in love with his mother. It was the 1920s, and Coward sensed that the public was ready for this “sordid” subject matter. His knack for breaking the rules was still apparent in later plays like "Blithe Spirit" (1941), which depicts a man caught between his present wife and the ghost of his past one. Like many of Coward's works, it reveals a mastery of subtext.
An ability to cloak ideas was an important tool in Coward's day, and it allowed his own particular kind of dandy -- the kind that enjoyed the company of men -- to bring seemingly amoral topics to the table. The ghost in “Blithe Spirit” represents a secret, hidden love, and the production's bottom line depends on keeping the audience entertained while the author manipulates the plot’s multiple meanings.
Coward's stage legacy includes brilliant musicals such as his 1935 "Mrs. Worthington." The lyrics prove Coward's masterful wit, for example, when the title character is urged to discourage her daughter from a life in theater: "She's a bit of an ugly duckling you must honestly confess. And the width of her feet would surely defeat her chances of success.” When Coward switched to his songwriter hat (perhaps his most flamboyant accessory), his brilliant and playful talents went unmatched.
Loving any opportunity to hint about his sexuality to an intolerant public, Coward happily composed a song for the ‘30s review "Words and Music" entitled "Mad about the Boy." Other Coward songs poked fun at high society.
In "Poor Little Rich Girl" he satirized the vacuous, spoiled 1920s flapper. Meanwhile, his intense sense of national pride gave birth to a series of tunes about British character: “Mad Dogs and Englishmen,” “Britannia Rules the Waves,” and “Don’t Let’s Be Beastly to the Germans.”
Given his birth, Coward was not likely to become an international symbol of glamour and celebrity. He came from from a modest middle-class background in a bland suburb of London called Teddington. This “average” boy, however, turned out to have too much flare to carry on in the midst of such hum-drum surroundings. Coward was destined to create a larger-than-life image of English elegance, to become a true personality whose words and creations were as well-cut as his clothes.