Twitch Upon a Star by Herbie J. Pilato

I would have said, “Great! Now, where can we go from here to make it a little more snappier and sophisticated” because I thought (the way it was) was too simple.
    She said the Bewitched animation didn’t have to be as elaborate as in the 1988 animated feature film Who Framed Roger Rabbit but, in another nod to Walt Disney, she smiled and suggested, “I’m talking Bambi , maybe.” Meanwhile, her own artwork looked right to Bewitched director R. Robert Rosenbaum, who was later crowned Head of Production for Lorimar Television (which produced shows like Falcon Crest , starring Lizzie’s future husband, Robert Foxworth). But while still guiding Samantha’s live-action adventures, Rosenbaum praised not only Lizzie’s on-screen abilities but her off-screen artistic talents. “One gift I’ll always treasure,” he said in 1988, “is the painting of a man in a director’s chair that Elizabeth created for me.”
    As was detailed in TV Guide , May 13, 1967, Lizzie had dabbled in watercolors and in quite effective pen-and-ink sketches. Her art had a fetching quality. “I’d love to do watercolors like Andrew Wyeth,” she said, but added firmly, “I know I never can.” A friend then theorized, “Liz is not sure of herself artistically. She is not willing to put herself on the line until she is damn sure she is the best artist in the whole world.” The friend likened all this to Bewitched . “The show is fun, but no challenge. Liz is too happy being Samantha to try anything truly difficult.”
    All of that would later change with her post- Bewitched TV-movies like 1972’s The Victim and 1974’s A Case of Rape , both of which explored the darker themes that Lizzie had experimented with in pre- Samantha TV guest appearances like Kraft’s Theatre ’62 rendition of “The Spiral Staircase” (NBC, October 4, 1961) and the Alcoa Premiere episode, “Mr. Lucifer” (ABC, November 1, 1962).
    According to the August 1967 edition of Screen Stars magazine, Lizzie once said, “My art belongs to Daddy.” And although she was an artist of many colors, she wasn’t referring here to her painting and drawing ability, but to her talent as an actress. In her heart, she knew she inherited her theatrical abilities from her father. She appreciated that talent and she ultimately credited him for helping her to hone it, whether that guidance took the form of general advice over the years, for example, by his insistence that she attend the New York American Academy of Dramatic Arts, or actual hands-on experience during early TV performances on Robert Montgomery Presents . Either way, Lizzie received formal dramatic training, although sometimes melodramatic training by way of Presents . As she told Ronald Haver in 1991, that show became an outlet for her dad’s need for “control … the desire to thin-line.” She wasn’t sure how well-liked her father was as a person, but Robert Montgomery Presents was liked by the audience. It became one of television’s pioneering live dramas.
    Her initial performances on Presents elicited excited responses from various producers. So much so, she eventually made her Broadway debut as the ingénue in Late Love , which ran from October 13, 1953 through November 7, 1953 at the National Theatre (today known as the Nederlander), and from November 9, 1953 to January 2, 1954, at the Booth Theatre, for a total of 95 performances.
    Love also starred Arlene Francis, and Cliff Robertson who, after prolonged failing health, died at age eighty-eight on September 10, 2011 (the day after his birthday and two weeks following his interview for this book).
    In his prime, Robertson was a handsome actor with a stellar resume and even more fascinating life, one worth noting if only because it peaked and somewhat mirrored Lizzie’s life.
    Born on September 9, 1923, in La Jolla,