"Don't Pitch That Presley Picture Prop!"

(The disposable environment of Elvis Presley's cinematic occupation 1956-1969)

By Aaron Webster

Have you ever wondered whatever happened to the burgundy Gibson SG guitar Elvis used in "Easy Come Easy Go?" Where is the busboy attire he wore in "Viva Las Vegas?" What happened to the old gnarled diesel-engine fishing boat used in "Girls! Girls! Girls!" Has it sunk? Where is the baby bassinet from "G.I. Blues?" (And better yet, the forty-three year old man who was the baby in it!)

Consider this: what happened to the giant Elvis cut-out which was mounted above the Paramount Theater in New York for the November 1956 premiere of "Love Me Tender?" We have all seen the old newsreel footage of its unveiling, and how part of the white drape tore and clung to his guitar neck, dangling down as a wind-whipped strip while down in the street below thousands of swooning teenage girls were lined up to see their idol make his silver screen debut. Did that sneering guitar-wielding two-dimensional segmented monolith wind up dismantled and discarded to a landfill, for its painted wood to rot, lost and forgotten over time? If so, it could be deemed unforgivable.

Yet it is understandable.

For some peculiar reason, physical elements of Elvis The Motion Picture Star do not now (and obviously not then) conjure up memorabilia fascination and collector pursuit. This is the case especially when compared to the memorabilia interest surrounding Elvis The Concert Performer. For example, if a venue where Elvis performed gets imploded, we feel sad for the historic loss. I wish I had a brick from the rubble. But if a set where Elvis made a movie gets bulldozed, it's not newsworthy and it doesn't seem to matter. In the film industry, it's a common practice to build sets and tear them down when no longer used. Why the double standard of what we deem worth preserving?

On the topic of concert memorabilia, among fans, there has been investigative interest in knowing about the whereabouts of an 8x10 photo Elvis autographed for a woman during the filming of the "That's The Way It Is" concert. Who was that woman? Did she ever sell the picture? That incident is definitely an interesting concert story, yet where is the interest in items with which Elvis had much longer physical contact (i.e. props). Today, the on-going museuming of Elvis Presley's personal and professional effects, mainly by the Memphis-based Elvis Presley Estate, and a handfull of private collectors, doesn't include as many things possible from his thirteen-year film career. Why? Because of a lack of historical foresight during Elvis' Hollywood years.

It is no secret that studios/cast/crew made little effort to salvage on-screen material from his films. The event itself - making a Presley picture - simply wasn't deemed significant enough to meticulously account for every single item he touched or wore. Such is the nature of the film industry in those days. "Cut! That's a wrap!" Then it all gets tore down and disposed of. Many things were returned to a Prop Department for later use in a different film, while other items may have been tossed in a dumpster. There should have been preservation of most - if not all - the Elvis movie props and wardrobe. And especially now with the advent of DVD, where are the filmed outtake bloopers?

Where is the "Return To Sender" black suit from "Girls! Girls! Girls!" or the blond wig from "Kissin Cousins" or the ukelele from "Blue Hawaii" or the #7 racing car from "Via Las Vegas?" Or the fight-inciting jukeboxes from "Loving You" and "G.I. Blues." Were these props saved when the films were completed? What happened to these items? Is it too late to learn their fate?

Elvis did save many articles of clothing from his movies (some are on display at Graceland right now including a publicity robe owned by his manager Col. Parker) but Elvis was also a generous man and often gave movie items away. For example, in 1968, he offered up props from "Roustabout" and "Viva Las Vegas" as gifts for Jim Sirah, a disc jockey from Jacksonville, Florida, who made a weekend visit to Graceland. The following quote is directly from Mr. Sirah.

"This was shortly before the '68 Comeback Special. I have never seen a picture or movie that did justice to Elvis' looks. He was the most handsome person face-to-face that I've ever seen. His niceness is something I'll never forget. I left Graceland on a Sunday (I had to be back to work Monday morning at 6 AM). I said goodbye to Elvis and the others. Then I asked Elvis if I could have something personal of his to take home with me. "An old tennis shoe, a sweat sock, anything," I said.

'Elvis said, "Just a minute," jumped in the golf cart and headed for the house. About fifteen minutes later he came back. I swear to God what I am about to tell you is true: He gave me the yellow jacked he wore in "Viva Las Vegas" when he sang "What'd I Say" plus two yellow shirts he wore in "Roustabout" plus two pairs of suede boots he wore in "Viva Las Vegas," and two RCA Victor transistor radios. I nearly passed out! I still have the jacket, one pair of the boots, a dynamite scrapbook of the week, and a heart full of memories that will last me until my last breath. He really was everything I had hoped he would be, and much more. I sure do miss him."

(Source: www.elvispreselyonline.com/html/encounters.html)

Such an example is a gesture of appreciation on Elvis' part for his fans' devotion but aside from the items Elvis himself took home to Memphis, those that never left the studio lot were not sanctioned as special souvenirs. It would be worth it as fans, and worth it to ensure extra tourism incentives to the Presley Estate, to have a special facility showcasing anything and everything from Elvis' movie years. From the giant "Love Me Tender" cut-out to the smallest item such as the Scotty Heyward driver's license he showed Shelley Fabares at the end of "Clambake." Even the "Frankie & Johnny" wardrobe with the purple silk ascot, and the lucky scarab bullet-dented medallion. Imagine his "Charro" clothing with holsters on a mannekin with an amber-tinted still from the film displayed behind it. Or imagine being able to view the souped-up psychedelic muscle car from "Easy Come Easy Go." Personally, these are things I would love to see in person.

Those words "Don't pitch that Presley picture prop" should have been uttered through a megaphone decades ago. Hopefully there can be a search-and-rescue operation to find all of the Elvis film-related things...if they still exist. Let's hope this renewed interest will not fade to black.