No newspaper has reported it yet — and even the film blogosphere found out months after it happened — but a prominent "b-movie" star of the seventies, Candice Rialson, passed away four months ago. The cause was liver disease according to her husband, as quoted in one of several movie blogs that have scrambled to obtain details. Their common goal at the moment seems to be to make enough fuss to prompt obits in the mainstream media…and I've decided to join the cause.
Between around 1974 and 1979, Candice appeared — starring, usually — in a number of low-budget movies of the Roger Corman variety…some of them, like Hollywood Boulevard and Candy Stripe Nurses, even for Roger Corman. She briefly showed promise of making the uneasy transition to upscale film and television work but somehow, it never happened and she was retired from acting (at age 27) by 1979. I shouldn't say "somehow" because at least one reason was obvious: Too many sleazy credits for the casting folks at the major studios. She certainly had the looks and she probably had the talent…but she also had Chatterbox on her résumé. (Chatterbox was kind of like The Vagina Monologues, only literally.)
I don't think it would matter today. In fact, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't. But it mattered back then.
At least it did to CBS the time I had her called in to audition for a show there. I had seen her in the aforementioned Hollywood Boulevard, which — unlike most of her other credits — was a delightful, funny feature with much to offer beyond the visual of Ms. Rialson with her shirt off. Shot on a budget that on a film shoot today wouldn't cover the donut bill from Craft Services, it was cleverly written (by Danny Opatoshu) and hastily but brilliantly directed (by Joe Dante and Allan Arkush). And it also had some splendid performances by Dick Miller, Paul Bartel and Candice. So a week or two after I first saw it, when my producer said, "Can't you think of some really beautiful women who can do comedy?," I thought of Candice and we brought her in.
She read so well that the casting director immediately called her back for several other projects he was working on. But she didn't get them and she didn't get my show…and like I said, the other credits were a contributing factor. A few months later, I met her at a party and she asked me why we'd hired someone other than her. I tried to be diplomatic but she knew just what the problem was…and even added, "Wait'll they see what I've got coming out in a few months." Ten or twelve years later, a prominent director tracked her down and, based wholly on his love of Hollywood Boulevard, offered her a fully-clad part in a major motion picture. What he got back was along the lines of, "Thanks, but I'm out of the business now."
If you'd like to know more about Candice, this website is all over the story and so is this one and this one and even this one. And who knows? Maybe the L.A. Times and Variety and Hollywood Reporter will all notice, too.