Gordon MacRae

The baritone who didn't seem made of glass

Gordon MacRae arrived in Hollywood with a puffed-out chest and a voice that didn't ask for permission. In 1948 he signed his first major contract with Warner Bros, because the studio wanted a look that broke with the languid image of the tenors of the era. He had a square jaw and a physical presence closer to an American football player than a Broadway star.

And that was his greatest competitive advantage.

During his early years in the industry, he took on a string of lightweight projects in which his main job was to look good in uniform and sing to the girl of the moment. In 1950, he starred in Tea for Two opposite Doris Day, and their chemistry proved so profitable that the studio paired them in four more films. Postwar audiences wanted that image of the perfect American family, and MacRae fit the mold without apparent effort.

But his vocal range was far more complex than those lightweight romantic comedies suggested.

The lucky break on the set of Carousel

His real chance to prove he could carry a big-budget production came in 1955. The producers of Oklahoma! were looking for a Curly McLain with the strength to fill the screen in the new 70mm format. MacRae landed the role and delivered a performance that set the standard for the genre for the rest of the decade.

Luck was on his side a year later.

Frank Sinatra walked off the set of Carousel in 1956 because he refused to shoot every scene twice for the two different formats the studio demanded. MacRae got the urgent call, learned the songs on the flight to the set, and stepped into Billy Bigelow's costume without a word of complaint. That film was the peak of his artistic and technical career.

The industry changed pace before he could adapt.

Silence and recovery in Nebraska

By the late 1950s, musical films had begun to lose momentum against grittier dramas and the rise of television. MacRae turned to live stage performances and occasional appearances on the small screen. But his professional decline came with a severe struggle with alcoholism that affected his abilities and financial stability for much of the 1960s.

In 1970, he decided to turn his personal situation around.

He checked into a rehab center and spent his final years working as a spokesman for the National Council on Alcoholism. His public appearances became rare and much more sober, far from the artificial glitz of the California spotlight. In 1980 he gave one of his last significant performances at the concert The 1950s: The Music, The Memories.

He died on January 24, 1986, in Lincoln, Nebraska, from mouth cancer and pneumonia. His body was cremated, and the ashes were handed over to his family after a private ceremony with no press present.