Ten Bad Final Films Of Legendary Actors

Oscar season is upon us, and it has me thinking of the grand Hollywood tradition of legends.

There is a distressing trend with legendary actors and actresses in Hollywood. One can achieve “legend” status through hard work, several great performances, and a careful grooming of one’s image. But, once achieved, said “legend” status may be difficult to maintain. Legend or not, you are still a working actor in a cutthroat business, and if you do not keep working, you run the risk of losing your clout. This may lead to some embarrassing career decisions, especially near the end of your career, when roles and opportunities may not come as readily.

The following is a meditation on the dwindling resources of legendary actors, forcing them to take some pretty embarrassing jobs, some of which happen to be, unfortunately for posterity, the final films in long and varied careers. Some of the films on this list were actually quite good, but are consigned to utter obscurity. Others were notorious flops, and were embarrassments at the time. Some were financial successes, but don’t necessarily tap into the well of talent hired; they do not reflect on the power of the actor involved.

Here then, are ten legends who capped their careers with films of dubious quality.

Vincent Price (1911-1993)

Final film: “The Thief and the Cobbler” (1995)

Vincent Price is one of the most notorious heavies of Hollywood’s golden age. He played charmers in films like “Laura,” captured the monster-loving crowd in films like “Tales of Terror,” became a horror icon in films like “The Tingler,” and even camped it up in a few episodes of the wonderful “Batman” TV show. Throughout the 1980s, he did a lot of cartoon voices, which may not be dignified to some classically trained actors (cartoon voice work used to be considered “slumming”), but cemented his presence in the minds of those of us who spent the bulk of the 1980s watching cartoons.

Thanks to Tim Burton, he was given a beautiful melancholy role as the doomed, lonely inventor of Edward Scissorhands, a role which, while brief, was sweet and memorable. It was to be the last time he would appear on the big screen. But, thanks to the machinations of Miramax, Vincent Price’s one unreleased film was completed, and slipped surreptitiously into theaters for a single week back in 1995. You see, master animator Richard Williams was hard at work on an independent project called “The Thief and the Cobbler” for several decades, and, in order to secure funds, recorded a few vocal tracks with Price. Eventually, the film was taken away from Williams, completed hastily, other actors were added (Eric Bogosian, Jonathan Winters, and Matthew Broderick amongst them), and it was released to no fanfare at all.

I was lucky enough to catch the film in theaters back in 1995, and I can attest for its quality. It’s clear when sappy songs or crude jokes were added after the fact, but when Williams’ work comes through (complete with optical illusions, wonky style, and extended silent passages), it’s astonishing and gorgeous. Price, as the evil vizier ZigZag, speaks in verse, and does indeed bite into the part with as much enthusiasm as he had in his prime. It’s a pity that his final film had to be something largely forgotten.

Joan Crawford (1905-1977)

Final film: “Trog” (1970)

Joan Crawford is a fascinating study. She was a legitimately talented actress, who brought a level of intensity to her roles that her peers could not approach. In classics like “Mildred Pierce,” and “Humoresque,” she is a resolute and powerful woman. Every film she made from 1940 to 1950 is exemplary of her talent, and a clear indicator as to why she is considered one of the best actresses of her generation. She was also, thanks to the tell-all book Mommie Dearest, by her abused daughter, a horrible mother, a raging alcoholic, and dubiously sane. She had a horrid reputation as a spotlight hog, and treated just about everyone very poorly, despite her calculated charm. Details of her famed rivalry with Bette Davis don’t paint a very flattering picture either.

As her career pushed on, and she became more and more drunk and more and more desperate for money, her choices began to flag. “Johnny Guitar” is famous in certain circles for its queer campiness, and her late horror films with William Castle (“I Saw What You Did,” “Straight-Jacket”), while incredibly entertaining, clearly don’t allow Crawford the same star-power opportunities as her earlier studio work.

By 1970, her film career was considered largely at an end, and she can, for reasons no one can ever really discern, decided to star in the low-budget monster flick “Trog.” “Trog,” directed by B-movie sub-legend Freddie Francis, was about a sasquatch, found living in a nearby cave. Crawford played the empathetic doctor who tried to communicate with the beast. Hearing of Crawford coddling and cradling a mutant monster… well, it’s easy to make a parallel with what she was doing with her career. She took on a few more TV jobs, and died of cancer a few years later. Her legends, both good and bad, will live on.

Bette Davis (1908-1989)

Final film: “Wicked Stepmother” (1989)

If there was a rivalry between Crawford and Davis, I always (will all due respect to Joan) come down on Bette’s side. She had the life, the energy, the self-knowledge, the quirky, snarky quality that makes her a great actress, but also a relatable human being that you’d love to hang out with. Her career started with her as a blonde beauty (in films such as “Ex-Lady,” “Of Human Bondage,” and “The Petrified Forest”), and, as she aged, she only improved, leading to some of her most famous performances (“Now, Voyager,” “A Stolen Life,” and, of course, “All About Eve”). She was a class act who could make fun of herself. What a great gal.

Like too many aging actresses in Hollywood, though, her opportunities dwindled, and she started taking roles in children’s sci-fi and horror films like “Return to Witch Mountain” and the nightmare-inducing “Watcher in the Woods.” She still approached every role with her usual professional aplomb, but never achieved the fame she captured in the 1940s and 1950s.

Her final film, “Wicked Stepmother,” directed by B-film auteur Larry Cohen, is an oddball affair. Davis played a haggard, gold-digging witch who marries into an average suburban family. She is a horrible person, and she is clearly using magic to manipulate grandpa and steal his money. She has an intelligent black cat. Davis notoriously died during production, and she was replaced by Barbara Carrera, an actress 40 years her junior. There was some quick rigmarole about Davis being a shape-shifter. It’s a weird, sometimes funny, and very, very sloppy film that is unbecoming to the legend of Davis. Like many of her films, though, it has a streak of camp running through, and her presence elevates an otherwise forgettable low-budget ‘80s horror flick.

Mae West (1893-1980)

Final film: “Sextette” (1978)

Mae West was more than a comedienne, she was a force of nature. Her cocked eyebrow, flirty presentation, and generally playful sluttiness made her a sex symbol long before the phrase was in common parlance. She is the epitome of pre-code Hollywood naughtiness. Any one of her films from the 1930s can serve to neophyte viewers as proof positive that the olden days were naughtier than they are often given credit for. Women can indeed be sexual aggressors, and have been for as long as there have been women. West is a comedic exemplar of that. I recommend “I’m No Angel,” and the 1940 film “My Little Chickadee.” She only had 13 acting credits to her name, but left such a mark, that she is fondly remembered today.

In 1943, West actively retired from acting, having felt, I suppose that the muse had left her, although many film historians agreed that she simply had no use for the new trends of film censorship that were putting the damper on her dirty jokes. She wasn’t going to take another acting job until 1970.

In 1978, a drooling fan of West’s, a man named Ken Hughes (“Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”), did a horrible mis-favor for the octogenarian, and cast her in a career celebration film called “Sextette.” “Sextette” is probably one of the worst films I’ve seen, not least of which for its level of tragic exploitation of a (barely) living legend. West plays a lothario who has married a younger man (Timothy Dalton), and must spend the extent of her wedding day fending off her five ex-husbands, all of whom still want to sleep with her, despite her advanced age, and clear disconnect with the world at large. The sex jokes are unfunny. The flirting is queasy, and West is forced to re-sing and repeat all of her most famous lines in a desperate grab to reclaim any semblance of interest from the audience. It plays like a particularly poorly-shot round of “Circus of the Stars.”

West deserved better.

Raul Julia (1940 -1994)

Final film: “Street Fighter” (1994)

The charming Puerto Rican actor was a legend on stage, and, without even having to try, had more charm oozing off of him that any eight of today’s stars (well, maybe only two of Javier Bardem). He was discovered in Puerto Rico by, of all people, Orson Bean, and was taken to New York, where he earned endless accolades for his Shakespearean roles. I wish I could have seen his Othello. He won a few Tonys in his day. In 1985, he exploded into the film world with “Kiss of the Spider Woman,” and became loved by kids my age with a charming reinterpretation of Gomez Addams in the 1991 film version of “The Addams Family.”

He was rolling high, but was in ill-health, when he agreed to play the mad tyrant M. Bison in the 1994 film version of “Street Fighter,” one of the earliest feature films to be adapted from a video game. Julia, to his credit, gives a huge amount of gusto and energy to this ridiculous role of a crazed third-world despot, hellbent on world domination. He gleefully cackles at his prisoners, suavely seduces Ming-Na Wen, and seems to be having a grand old time flying through the air with super flying boots in the film’s climactic fight scene with Jean-Claude Van Damme.

Unfortunately, the world at large seemed ill-taken by “Street Fighter,” despite Julia’s gusto. Kids familiar with the video game could only react to the film’s departures from the game’s established lineage (however flimsy it was), and professional film critics were unimpressed with the mixture of unbelievable action sequences, and Julia’s obvious attempts at camp. The film, to this day, has a reputation as a horrid misstep, and a blind cashgrab. It has its apologists to be sure, but “Street Fighter” will never be hailed as a classic. This is too bad for Julia and his decades of hard work.

Dennis Hopper (1936-2010)

Final film: “Alpha and Omega”

Dennis Hopper defined a generation, in many ways. His involvement in films like “Easy Rider” and “Apocalypse Now” not only cemented his irreplaceable manic energy, and melancholic attitudes to an American Dream unrealized, but spoke to millions of young people as the central attitude of a decade. His unfortunate dabblings with substances also forced him into some pretty unremarkable roles along the way, but, after rehab, and thanks to one David Lynch, he exploded onto the scene again with his role of Frank Booth in “Blue Velvet.” Frank remains, to this day, one of the scariest movie villains of all time, and is often cited as Hopper’s best performance.

Hopper, like most legends, though, was not free of the occasional weird job to pay the bills. He was also involved in notorious flops like “Waterworld,” “Super Mario Bros.,” and one of the sequels to “The Crow.” I forget which one. So do you. By 2010, he was already pretty sick with his cancer, but was still acting, the trooper, and managed to record a vocal track for a CGI talking animal film called “Alpha and Omega.”

“Alpha and Omega” went unseen by me, and was something of a forgettable flop at the box office. I cannot say whether the film was good or bad, but reports were middling, and the film was shunted aside. You may be able to download it these days, but I know few who would want to. “Alpha and Omega,” then, may not necessarily be a bad film, but it was an embarrassing one for a legend to bow out on. No bang. No whimper. No fanfare. No rancor. Just a quiet slip away into the darkness. This is stirringly unbefitting for an iconoclast of such strength and quirkiness.

Gene Kelly (1912-1996)

Final film: “Xanadu” (1980)

Gene Kelly was one of the best dancers to ever appear on film. He took the grace and perfectionism of Fred Astaire, and made it more organic. He took the popular dance trends of graceful femininity, and made them, through his cheerful strength, into something masculine. He was a masculine dancer. And his happiness in his every role was infectious. In addition to “Singin’ in the Rain,” Kelly brought his smile and his charm to “An American in Paris,” “Brigadoon,” and “On the Town.” Choose any of his silly musical from the 1940s, though, and you’re guaranteed to have a good time.

By the 1970s, Kelly’s brand of cheery musical had fallen by the wayside (most major films of the 1970s were dark, moody, pessimistic dramas like “The Godfather” and “Taxi Driver”, and he was forced to take increasingly smaller jobs, including a lot of TV appearances, and cameo roles in films like “Viva Knievel!”

His final feature film has become one of the most notorious bad musicals of all time. I refer, of course, tho the 1980 atrocity “Xanadu.” Conceived as a vehicle for pop starlet Olivia Newton-John, “Xanadu” was about a lonely painter (Michael Beck) who fell in love with one of the ancient Greek muses (Newton-John), and was moved to start a nightclub called Xanadu in her honor. Gene Kelly appears in the film as the kindly old codger who helps Beck remember the good time, and is inspired to Olivia to take up dancing again. Gene Kelly dances next to ONJ in the film, and the scene only serves to show how untalented she is. What a waste of Kelly’s talent. Then, at the end, he is seen in the rather hip and undignified position of smiling while he roller skates in a roller-club.

Few films are this weird, and that it was the last feature film of a legend only makes it weirder.

Groucho Marx (1890-1977)

Final film: “Skidoo” (1968)

Any comedian worth their salt was inspired by Groucho Marx. His quick wit, and playful jazz-like riffing on high society, common manners, politics, and the very nature of reality remain the pinnacle of comedy, and he is responsible, with his brothers, for some of the best comedies ever made. Any young comedy fan cannot call themselves educated until they have sat and appreciated the great Marx. Bros. films like “Duck Soup,” “Horse Feathers,” “Monkey Business,” and “A Night at the Opera.” Groucho also continued on TV and other films for many years, bringing his sarcastic sensibility to all of them. He can make anything funny.

In 1968, Groucho took what was to be his final film role. To be fair, he did choose to play God himself. It’s a pity it had to be into the pesudo-comic mindfuck that is “Skidoo.” And, actually, Groucho only plays an evil gangster named “God,” and not that fellow we know from the creation of the universe, et al. For fans of face-melting films, and weirdo cult experiences, I encourage you to seek out “Skidoo.”

Directed by, of all people, “Otto Preminger,” “Skidoo” is a comedy about a kidnapping, but has plenty of celebrity cameos and musical numbers along the way to make sure you’re not thinking straight by the end. Look up the cast of this film, and you;ll find such faces as Carol Channing, Jackie Gleason, John Phillip Law, Peter Lawford, Frank Gorshin, Frankie Avalon, and Mickey Rooney. Oh yeah, and Cesar Romero. Seeing random clips will, perhaps give you a sense of the random manic weirdness of “Skidoo,” but it won;t give you the full experience.

Perhaps Groucho was playing a prank on us. Perhaps he wanted to go out on a weird one. Whatever the reason, it was his final acting gig.

Bela Lugosi (1882-1956)

Final film: “Plan 9 from Outer Space” (1958)

Bela Lugosi was born in Hungary, and fell into acting at an early age. His intense stare and seductive old-world charm was well-known in his native country, and in the US, where he appeared in many silent films. It wasn’t until he was approached by Tod Browning to take the role of Dracula, however, that he cemented his legend status. Lugosi had already played the role on stage, and, notoriously, learned his lines phonetically, making for an unusual, pleasingly sinister line reading that has bled into just about every vampire myth since. As a horror icon, none are more well-recognized thn Bela Lugosi.

Thanks to the scads of Ed Wood lovers in the world, and because of the 1994 biopic “Ed Wood,” the story of Lugosi’s end is a familiar one. By the 1950s, horror movies had changed from spooky Universal classics to sci-fi scare films, and Lugosi became addicted to morphine. He took jobs as he could, but soon he wasn’t even able to get embarrassing monster roles. “Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla” is a low point for everyone. Eventually, he fell in with the passionate – if not talented – film driector Ed Wood, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Lugosi appeared in some of the oddest and worst monster films ever made. “Bride of the Monster” and “Glen or Glenda?” are certainly some of the better known of Ed’s canon, but the cherry on the cake was “Plan 9 from Outer Space,” long held to be the worst film in motion picture history. Lugosi died during the production of the film, and appears in sad clips of stock footage. He creeps around a graveyard, and weeps in driveways. You can’t help but see the truthful sadness on Lugosi’s face; you get the feeling that he was only half acting, and half trying to desperately relive any previous glory he once had.

Lugosi’s son hates Ed wood, and felt that Wood exploited his father, and took advantage of his drug addiction, only in a pathetic attempt to remain near his horror film idol. “Plan 9” is horrible and tragic, but, I do declare, well loved by many a cult film fanatic.

Orson Welles (1915-1985)

Final film: “The Transformers: The Movie” (1986)

I don’t think I need to state why Welles is considered a legend. He was a theater star as a teenager, a radio personality in his 20s, a prankster, a lothario, and a stirring talent. In 1941, he made what is often considered to be the best film of all time in “Citizen Kane,” and his other feature films are all impressive (even if some of the later ones skewed toward the bizarre). Handsome, dashing, assholeish, notorious, not content to go without riling someone, Welles is a personality for the ages.

I also, probably, don’t need to trace the bizarre downward fall of Welles. As his ego grew, so did his body, his addiction to wine, and his inability to gat any meaningful work. The young idealist became overweight and drunken over the course of a decade, and was soon making ends meet with voiceover work, and commercials. There is a notorious clip online of Welles, clearly blotto, trying to read his lines in a wine commercial. It is, by turns, hysterical and sad. No one would work with the egomaniac, and it cost him dearly. Soon, he wasn’t appearing in films at all.

His final role, probably a larf for him, was the voice of the planet-eating robot Unicron in the 1986 feature film “Transformers: The Movie.” While the Transformers are inexplicably loved by a generation of boys, the cartoon show was little more than an advertisement for the toy products. They had little personality, and no tangible story to latch onto. And, stumbling into this universe, was the dying Welles, desperate for work, willing to take a part in a children’s film that only served to introduce a new line of toys. What’s more, his voice was distorted.

He entered the film world with the best ever made. He left on a film of questionable quality and intentions. It’s probably the biggest fall in Hollywood history.

Honorable mention:

Peter Sellers (1925-1980)

Final film: “The Fiendish Plot of Fu Manchu” (1980)

Peter Sellers, the chameleonic comedian from “Dr. Strangelove” and “The Pink Panther,” only gets an honorable mention, as he was very close to going out on a beautiful note, and then turned around and did one final cheap comedy before he died. In1979, he made the well-loved classic “Being There” with director Hal Ashby, and it is a masterpiece of parody, comedy, and melancholic political observation. Sellers is great in it. Had he died after making “Being There,” it would have been a graceful exit to a wonderful career. But then he made a middling comedy about Fu Manchu. It wasn’t a horrible film, but it certainly does not have the reputation nor the dignity of “Being There.”

Rest in peace, Mr. Sellers. And rest in peace to all the legends above. You may have gone out poorly, but we will always love you for your powerful heyday.

Witney Seibold lives in Los Angeles with his lovely wife, video and book libraries, and oblong opinions. He maintains (sporadically) a ‘blog called Three Cheers for Darkened Years! Where he has collected about 750 of his film, book and TV reviews over the years. He is also the co-host of the B-Movies Podcast for CraveOnline. He humbly requests that you read his stuff, at the same time he, un-humbly, insists on his own worldview. Quite the paradox, isn’t it?