John, Paul, George and Ringo -- all superb musicians -- yet none of them played so much as a note in "Elinor Rigby." An orchestra was hired for the instrumentation while the boys simply sang.
For generations, thespians who tended to over-emote and chew the scenery have been called "hams." The expression, "hamming it up," means to go over the top with the drama, and hence, call attention to oneself and one's performance.
In the olden days before electric lights, stages were largely lit by candle-power, much of which was on the stage floor ("footlights"). Performers put greasepaint on their faces to reflect the light so as to be seen better by the audience. Greasepaint was made of, among other things, pig fat. An actor or actress who REALLY wanted to stand out, therefore, would smear LOTS of grease on his or her face, and due to the pig fat content, would tend to literally smell like a ham! So a show-offy, over-dramatic actor would be known not only by performance and reputation, but by aroma, as well!
"Baby" was for a long time, a racist expression meant to denigrate Afro-Americans. That all changed with the advent of the runaway hit song, "I Can't Give You Anything But Love, Baby," Originally called, "I Can't Give You Anything But Love, Lindy," (as a tribute to aviator Charles Lindburgh) the lyrics and title were changed, and the song as we know it was originally introduced by Adelaide Hall at Les Ambassadeurs Club in New York in January 1928 in Lew Leslie's Blackbird Revue. From then to now the expression, "Baby" has joined "Honey," "Sweetheart," "Darling" and a thousand other ways to express love to those dearest to us.
1939. Disney animators, fresh from the success of "Snow White," were busily preparing for a ground-breaking and ambitious project: Fantasia -- a full orchestral concert fully animated. Mickey Mouse, once the most famous individual in the world, was in a career decline. A new Disney character had captured the hearts of the movie-going public. His name: Dopey. The animators assumed that he would be the star of "The Sorceror's Apprentice" sequence, and had already sketched out the hilarious story, complete with funny oversized costume. It was Walt Disney himself who vetoed the decision. "This studio was founded on a mouse. We at least owe him that much," was his attitude. The result was a resurgence in Mickey Mouse's popularity, while Dopey, while enormously talented in his own right, was fated to be a "one-hit wonder."
Was it Humphrey Bogart? Ingrid Bergman? Claude Rains?
The correct answer is none of the above. The highest paid performer in "Casablanca" was Conrad Veidt, who played the evil Nazi Major Strasser (remember, Bogie shoots him at the end when he tries to stop Ingrid Bergman's plane from taking off?)
Veidt was actually a huge theatrical and film star in his native Germany. He was also an outspoken anti-Nazi -- so much so that the Gestapo despatched a death squad to assassinate him. Veidt discovered the plot just in time and escaped Germany. He later became a British citizen.
Back in the days of vaudeville, when a two hour show routinely included a dozen or more different acts, a performer's status was reflected by how long he or she (or they) were permitted to perform. The more time allowed on stage, the bigger the star. Hence, someone at the bottom of the bill, given only a few minutes to perform, was called "small time." Contrast this with a big name, a headliner, who was given a whole half hour or more. Such a person would be regarded as "a big-time act" and was naturally in demand. The dream of all performers back then (as now!) was to "hit the big time!"
Many people assume that when one bids a performer, "Break a leg!" that it's a kind of a reverse jinx, and that they are really wishing that they don't break a leg, and that all goes well. Actually the expression comes from the pre-movie era in the 18th and 19th century where a performer doing an exceptional job in a scene in a play would occasionally stop the show for a moment as the audience broke into appreciative applause for his or her performance. The actor or actress would then modestly come forward to the footlights and acknowledge the ovation with a bow or curtsey, in other words, bending the knee, or "breaking the leg." Once the audience's demand was met, the performer would get back in character, rejoin the other actors in the scene and the play would continue.
So when one wishes a performer to "Break a leg" one is actually saying, "Do so well that you stop the show and have to take a bow!"
