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TO HEX WITH SEX:
HOW LIZ MONTGOMERY FOUND SOMETHING EVEN BETTER

by Kathleen Post

TV Radio Mirror
June 1965
A sneakered foot reaches under an on-set table to find its mate...a hand tenderly grazes a cheek...lips press close to an ear in a half-kiss, half-whisper. Liz and her husband Bill Asher touch constantly--in public and in private--and for reasons that are much more than sex, much better than sex.
    The beautiful witch Samantha perched on a steeple, looking sadly down at the world of ordinary men and women. She had amazing powers, had Samantha. With a twitch of her pert nose, she could transform a dirty hovel into a king's palace, or fly to the ends of the earth in a matter of seconds. And yet she felt unfulfilled. She envied the average people with their average pleasures and problems. And tears of longing fell from her hypnotic eyes.

     "Why so sad?" asked her mother Endora, another beautiful and powerful witch.

     "I want to be a woman and to have my own man," replied Samantha.

     "But you can have any man your heart desires," her mother argued. "A prince on Monday...an astronaut on Tuesday...a football hero on Wednesday..."

     "Bosh!" said Samantha scornfully, "that's just sex. What I want is to know the real love of a real man...to be a mother and a homemaker."

     And with that, she twitched her nose, waved goodbye to Endora and descended into the city of ordinary people in the shape of a very attractive but very run-of-the-mill woman.

     Bar-r-ramm! Liz Montgomery fell out of her bed and landed on the floor. Her husband, Bill Asher, director of her successful TV series, "Bewitched," rushed to her side and helped her up. "Liz darling--are you all right?"

     Liz gazed long and thoughtfully into his eyes. She gave a contented sigh. "Oh, Bill," she whispered, putting her arms about his neck. "I'm so happy I'm me...and not that witch-woman
Samantha. There's nothing like being a mere mortal with a husband and child--and a home you have to clean and decorate and make comfortable for your family. Let other women cast their spells and be sexpots. What I want is to go on being what I am..."

     While it is true that Liz, the talented actress-wife of Bill Asher, and
Samantha, the very married witch she plays on television, are both sexy and glamorous to look at, neither has any wish to make a career out of being a femme fatale. Says Liz with a merry wink, "Every women likes being admired, desired and courted, but it came as a surprise to learn that I'm being hailed as one of TV's most potent bombshells. I've never had any ambition to be a man-killer. When I was told that viewers of the show thought me sexy, I burst out laughing. I said, 'Me, sexy? They must be mad...'"

     But it is exactly this quality in Liz that has given her portrayal of
Samantha its air of reality. People believe in the bewitching creature of fantasy because they sense in her the dimensions of a real flesh-and-blood woman who doesn't take her hidden powers too seriously. Every woman who has faced a mess of cleaning-up and dish-washing the morning after the night before has, at one time or another, paused to exclaim in dismay: "I wish I could just snap my fingers and everything would fall into place..." To watch Samantha tackle the same problem and utter the same wish--and then to see all the houshold articles clean themselves and fly into perfect orderliness--is a delight any average woman (or man, for that matter) can enjoy.

     The natural ease with which Liz Montgomery spoofs this role has brought her compliments galore from the critics. One such gentleman stepped up to her at a party and said, "Miss Montgomery, you not only play the part of a witch to perfection--you
are that witch." Whereupon Liz retorted, "Why, isn't everybody?"

ALL-WOMAN---ALL-WIFE
    
Samantha's devotion to her bewitched, bothered and bewildered husband, essayed by Dick York, could have presented director Asher with a problem of credibility. Audiences were bound to ask, "Can a witch be good, playful, loving and sweet? Having the power, can she resist turning herself into a temptress without peer? And above all, when provoked, as wives are prone to get, can she restrain herself from using her supernatural crafts to force her husband to his knees? In short, can she cry, laugh, dance, squabble, be jealous, coy, mistaken, flirtatious, frustrated and yielding as average wives are wont to be? Liz has answered these doubts, Bill Asher asserts, by mostly ignoring the supernatural elements in Samantha and sticking to the utterly human characteristics of Liz Montgomery, all woman and all wife. "In discussing the role with Liz before we went into production, I pointed out this danger," says Bill, "but her answer to me was, 'Samantha is not only a witch, she's also the sort of all-American girl that a clean-cut, likeable and regular guy like Dick York, would fall for and marry. Well, I can't see the character Dick plays falling in love with a sexpot--he might be attracted to her for an evening, but not to bring home to Mom and Dad, or take home to mother his child.'"

     In connection with this viewpoint, Liz claims she is not a true career girl. "I thoroughly enjoy acting," she says, "but not to the degree where it becomes a compulsion and dominates my life. I don't have to work to be happy. But if I land a part that fascinates me, that I feel is entertaining or significant, then I am really happy going to work." This is one of the reasons why she has never signed a long-term contract before her deal with Screen Gems. But when "Bewitched" was offered her, she could see herself as
Samantha and it loomed up in her mind as a charming kind of challenge. The contract wsa put before her and she signed it without a murmur.

     "I don't always agree with my agents on this attitude," she explains. "They often send me scripts and urge me to do them because my part is large or showy. I turn them down if I sense something false to myself in them. On the other hand, I've taken parts that were quite modest because I believed in the role. This may sound presumptuous, but I've been around show business all my life, being the daughter of Robert Montgomery, and I feel I'm the best judge of what is or isn't suitable for me."

     "I'm no sex goddess and no man-hunting vamp," Liz says. "I'm not comfortable in such parts. But give me a normal young woman to do, and I'll play it for all I'm worth. My father once told me, 'Remember that every time you walk onto a stage, you must bring something of your own with you. You just can't depend on scenery and lines. You must bring the audience some special thing, no matter how small, that wasn't there before you stepped out of the wings. It can be an air of sadness or a twinkle of gaiety or even a shadow of fear. But it must be personal and you must give the audience a reason to sit up and take notice--and I don't mean a slinky walk or low-cut dress...'"

BLONDES---BUSTY AND BRAINLESS?
     This doesn't mean that Liz would refuse to play the part of a bad girl, a criminal or a cheating wife. "Many such parts are serious, good fun or phychologically intriguing. Take the recent film, 'Shot in the Dark,' Elke Somers, one of Hollywood's most stunning blondes, was co-starred with Peter Sellers. The film had its sexy moments, but it was all done in good taste and Elke was so cute that I'm sure very few people were offended. I'd also like to point out that blondes don't have to be busty, brainless and run around half-nude. I've never done it, and Grace Kelly, one of the most popular blondes ever, personified most everyone's concept of a lady. The late Carole Lombard was considered extremely sexy in her day, but unless I'm greatly mistaken, she kept it always within bounds and never posed nude or in scanties. She was a blonde who generated sex in far more subtle ways."

     From all this one may assume that Liz has rather sensible tastes in dress. "I'm for moderation in style and manners," she says. "I don't like flaunting things, whether it's your mind, body or morals. That's show-offism in the worst and most vulgar sense. I grew up with the notion that modesty and propriety were simply one of the attributes of a well-bred girl. It was nothing unusual, and yet it was something expected of you. My brother and I just took it for granted that having fun and kicking up our heels were perfectly permissable--as long as this didn't conflict with the rules of decency and consideration for the feelings of others."

     Though Liz puts in a minimum of fifty hours a week at the studio and is the star on whom the success of the series rises or falls, she refused to put her work ahead of her home. There was the day when Liz, up to her neck in a scene that was the turning point and climax of that episode, was called to the phone. It was "Bryce," little Billy's nurse, in something of a flap because the baby was not well. She had phoned the pediatrician. With the production schedule of "Bewitched" seriously behind, Liz was forced to play out the scene. Not only that, she had an important interview lined up for later. Fretting and fuming within, Liz stayed before the cameras like the "pro" she is. She then asked permission to rush home, a request granted on condition she come in at seven the next morning to finish the segment and work in the pick-up shots. She agreed at once, made her apologies to the publicity people for canceling her appointment, and headed with all speed for home and her baby. "I'm sure," she said afterward, "that in time I'll get over being such a worrywart. But Billy's my first, and I still can't get over the wonder of his being mine."

     Recently, while reading the Sunday papers, her eyes were caught by the escapades of a carefree beauty of the international "jet set," Bill asked her teasingly whether she wouldn't have liked to lead such a life filled with romance, adventure and pleasure. Her answer was prompt and firm. "I had my chance to lead such a life. It seemed to me just a big boring waste of precious time. So I turned my back on it. I was looking for a way of life that was more meaningful, that had purpose and direction to it. I wouldn't change what I have here, my little family, my household obligations, my quota of work, for all the glamor and romantic hi-jinks in the world."

THE FAMILY WAY
     Liz really treasures the time spent with her "little family." The Ashers have taken an apartment in Hollywood in addition to their house in Benedict Canyon. On nights when Liz works late, they find it easier and less time-consuming to go to the apartment where baby Billy and his nurse are awaiting their arrival. This means that Liz doesn't have to forego the joy of feeding her baby and playing with him awhile before his bedtime. "At first it was really rough," Liz recalls. "I'd often get home after Billy had fallen asleep and I'd have to leave before he finished his morning bottle. But now that we have things better organized and he's a bit older, I have more time to be with him. Bill and I put our heads together and came up with the solution: getting this apartment close to the studio."

     Neither Liz nor Bill are money-hungry. While "Bewitched" will net them a rather hefty annuity, they do not go out of their way to gather in the sheaves. Liz has been offered as much as $40,000 for a weekend to go on promotional tours, and turned them down without a moment's regret. "Weekends are when Bill, Billy and I can relax and enjoy each other's company without the intrusion of outside duties. We play tennis on Saturdays and Sundays, then we play with little Billy, and then Lee Ann and Brian (Bill's children by a previous marriage) come over for a visit and we have great fun together. No matter how much money I'm offered, I simply won't give up my weekends--they belong to my family and are the most satisfactory element in my life."

     In spite of the compliments thrown her way, Liz Montgomery has never thought of herself as being bewitching--"I was rather surprised to be cast in the part because it seemed to me that a powerful witch like
Samantha, when she took on human form, would naturally choose the most beautiful guise imaginable. Since then, I've come to realize why she chose to look like a normal young married woman, and why I was picked for the part. I've always tried to make the most of what I have. Surrounded by girls far prettier, I tried to make up for this by being neat, well-groomed and mannerly. I can remember coming home from school and saying to my mother, 'Gee, I wish I looked like Ann...' Ann had long auburn hair, big brown eyes and long curly lashes. Mom looked at me and said gently, 'Well, dear, you just don't look like Ann, and that's all there is to it.' But there was such a feeling of sweet, loving kindness when she said it, that I thought, 'Well, she's right and I'll have to live with myself and be satisfied with that.'"

     People have remarked on this attitude of Liz's. "She seems so uncomfortable when you tell her she's beautiful," they laugh. "Can she actually be that modest?" Liz does not attribute her attitude to modesty but to basic "common sense." She seems to know her own qualities and limitations better than anyone else. "As a girl in the romantic age, I was already putting mroe emphasis on fun, sports and friendship than beauty and superficial flirtations." She was, for example, an excellent equestrienne at six. "At three, Daddy sat me on a pony and said, 'Ride.' I did. At six he tossed me into the swimming pool and said 'Swim.' And, by golly, I did. I had no fear because of my faith in Daddy. If he told me to do something then obviously he knew I could..."

     If Liz got her interest in sports and sportsmanship from her father, she got her instict for homemaking from her mother. And today, she is grateful for both these gifts. If she places more value on good health, significant work and love of nature than on beauty, night clubs and the "dolce vita," she blesses the wisdom of her parents in fostering such ideas.

     "You see, I'm very much like
Samantha in some respects," Liz muses, "but in one most important thing, I can never be like her. Samantha, being a witch, can remain young, beautiful and charming indefinately. I'm only a woman and can hold on to my attractions for a limited period of time. Well, nothing is sadder to me than to see a woman who rolled along on her sex appeal when she was in her twenties suddenly wake up to the fact that she has reached forty. The beauty and cuteness that were once thought so attractive have gone, and it is a revolting sight to see a fortyish female trying to be a sex hitter. This is why I am trying to base my own life on more substantial and longer-lasting qualities--a home, a loving husband, fine children--longer-lasting things. A happy home is as valuable to you at fifty as it was in your twenties. And to be loved and admired by a husband and children, whom you love and admire in return, grows better as time wears on. It's a much better investment in happiness than playing the social butterfly for a season in the sun..."