Julie Newmar became iconic as Catwoman in the original Batman TV series — but long before the catsuit, she was a trained dancer under Jack Cole (the father of theatrical jazz), performing in Technicolor musicals and stealing the spotlight on Broadway.
In this episode of The Rest of the Story on the Hey, Dancer! podcast, we uncover her dance roots:
– Ballet at five
– Spanish dance with Rita Hayworth’s family
– Uncredited roles in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, The Band Wagon, and more
– Breakout stage roles in Li’l Abner and Silk Stockings
– Cast (then sidelined) in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
– A full-circle cameo in To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar
This is the dance life behind the pop culture legend — and the movement that helped shape an icon across decades.
Check out my Return to Dance docuseries!
Support my Instagram — where I post daily dance inspo, insights and fun! @backtogreat
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
[music]
(00:02):
You know her as a pop culture icon as Catwoman,
but everything iconic about her was built on dance.
Welcome to the rest of the story, my weekly deep dive,
into the dancers who shaped culture.
Often without getting the credit, they deserve.
I'm your host, Miller Dauray, and this is my podcast,
(00:24):
Hey, Dancer.
Be sure to follow or subscribe so you never miss an episode.
Like, comment, share, oh this platform just loves when you engage
and it helps me spread these dance stories.
I bring to you with a lot of work and passion and love.
And stick around for the outro because as I always reiterate,
(00:45):
this is a dance centered podcast.
So in the outro, I'll share other talents and accomplishments
today's subject gave to the world.
Okay, let's get into it.
She was born in 1933 in Las Vegas, California.
Her father was an engineering professor,
head of the Fizz Ed department, and head football coach
(01:05):
at Los Angeles City College.
Her mother had danced in the Zigfeld Follies
until a car accident scarred her face
and ended her performing career.
That loss shaped everything.
She poured her dreams into her daughter.
By five, she could read music.
Soon after, she was enrolled in ballet.
Over the next few years, her mother drove her to every kind of lesson.
(01:28):
Tap, flamenco, Spanish dance, anywhere in greater Los Angeles.
Movement wasn't just encouraged, it was orchestrated.
By seven, she was already at the top of her class
in both school and dance.
That same year, she appeared in a local department store
production of Alice in Wonderland.
Her first time performing for a crowd, she loved the attention.
(01:53):
By 11 or 12, she was studying Spanish dance
under Eduardo Cancino and his brother, Jose,
renowned performers, and yeah, the father and uncle of Rita Hayworth.
Their training emphasized precision, carriage, and command.
At 14, she danced the Bluebird variation
from Sleeping Beauty at her junior high.
(02:15):
She spent weekends dancing in full-scale opera productions
presented by Frank Pace, a major civic producer in Los Angeles.
At 15, she was featured as a ballet soloist in one of them, La Traviata.
By the time she hit high school, she stood nearly six feet tall
and even taller on point.
(02:36):
In ballet class, she quickly learned what that meant.
She would tower over her male partners.
Even the tallest ones disappeared behind her.
Her height became a defining trait,
a gift and a limitation.
There was no hiding in a line of dancers.
She wasn't built to blend in.
She had something else too.
(02:58):
Brilliant.
Her IQ tested above average, and her grades were immaculate.
She graduated high school at just 15.
That same year, she left for Europe with her mother and younger brother.
They spent a full year abroad, surrounded by centuries-old cathedrals,
grand architecture, and the romance of art and history.
(03:20):
She discovered something she hadn't yet felt in Los Angeles,
a sense of self, not just as a technician or a prodigy,
but as an artist, someone who didn't just follow beauty,
but created it.
She saw what a creative life could look like,
and decided it was hers.
When she returned to Los Angeles, she enrolled at UCLA,
(03:42):
scored a 99 on her entrance exam.
Took courses in French, piano, and philosophy,
but the classroom couldn't compete with the stage,
and after six weeks, she walked away.
After leaving UCLA, she jumped straight into dance work,
booking uncredited roles in a string of films.
(04:02):
It was a stunningly fast leap into the industry.
Rare then, and even rare now.
And she's walking her way through college.
She's a blink, and you'll miss her chorus girl.
But in just for you, she shares the screen with Bing Crosby himself
in the Alsacea in Bahia number,
performing a dance solo with style and grace,
(04:24):
then came Serpent of the Nile,
where she was cast as the Golden Girl,
a living statue painted head-to-toe in gold
who bursts to life in a striking solo.
It was her first real dance showcase on screen,
and she stole the moment.
In slaves of Babylon, she played a stylized temptress.
And in Demetrius and the Gladiators,
(04:46):
she danced as part of a temple sequence.
These were designed as ensemble numbers,
but her height, poise, and almost ethereal presence
made her impossible to miss.
It didn't take long for the studio to notice.
By 19, Universal Studios entrusted her as a choreographer
and movement coach.
She became a dance in for contract stars.
(05:09):
Stepping in for the most challenging routines
and began teaching movement to the studio's rising talent.
For someone not yet even 20, it was nearly unheard of.
According to her, she first met Jack Hole
on the stage of 20th Century Fox,
auditioning for The Farmer Takes a Wife,
Betty Grable's final film.
(05:30):
At this audition, he had her dancing in ways
she never had before.
It's rumored there was about 90 minutes of dance class
before even getting to the choreography.
Now, Jack Hole widely regarded as the father
of theatrical jazz dance.
We defined what jazz could look like on stage and screen.
Bob Fossy studied him, so did Gwen Verdon.
(05:51):
Cole's style pushed dancers to their limits.
As she put it, quote, he could do everything
from Indian to Harlem to Spanish to Esquimo.
End quote, the Farmer Takes a Wife came out
after the I Don't Care Girl.
Another Cole choreographed film that she also danced in.
She later said, "I must have been 18
(06:12):
when I danced with Jack for the first time.
We know this much for sure.
She was dancing in films by at least 18,
working with Cole by 19,
and eventually became part of his elite troop
for three seasons,
with Gwen Verdon leading company classes.
She also danced on film alongside Gwen Verdon
and other Cole trained legends like Matt Maddox.
(06:35):
Some of those films were choreographed by Cole himself,
like Gentlemen Preferblons.
Others like Call Me Madam and The Bandwagon weren't.
But still featured dancers from his orbit.
It was a dynasty of dance,
and she was right in the middle of it.
Oh, and in The Bandwagon, she graced the screen with Fred Astaire,
(06:57):
and she kept her knees bent the entire time
just so she wouldn't tower over him in heels.
But not long after that, something changed.
She was cast as one of the brides in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,
a major role with singing,
screen time, and the kind of technicolor visibility
most dancers only dreamed of.
(07:18):
But there was a catch.
She was too tall.
Too tall for the male dancers, Michael Kid,
the choreographer, had assembled.
So they paired her with Jeff Richards,
a former baseball player turned actor with basically no dance experience.
While the other brides leapt and spun in Michael Kid's now legendary choreography,
(07:40):
she was left on the sidelines,
a dancer with all the tools forced into the background.
Still, she did her part.
After filming, she joined the other brides
for a studio-planned press tour throughout the Southwest.
But when it wrapped, she didn't stick around.
Without warning, she booked a one-way ticket to New York.
(08:03):
Her family was stunned.
MGM was the pinnacle.
Why walk away?
But she wasn't chasing Stardom.
She was chasing something deeper,
a place where she could move.
Be seen, take up space.
In 1954, she landed in New York.
And unlike Hollywood, where she'd always felt like a novelty,
(08:25):
here, she fit right in.
Sophisticated enough for Uptown Suarez,
Bohemian enough for Downtown Solans.
She hit the pavement looking for dance work on Broadway,
but casting directors didn't know what to do with her.
A woman who stood six foot two in heels,
there was no room for a dazzling enchantress in the chorus line.
(08:46):
So she pivoted.
Her figure became her fortune.
She started modeling for dime-store covers and record sleeves.
Her face gracing everything from romance novels to jazz albums.
Her luck was shifting.
She changed her last name.
Then, on February 25, 1955,
she made her Broadway debut in the Cole Porter musical,
(09:09):
Silk Stockings.
In New York Daily News Critic,
called her, quote, "the loveliest of all the many pretty young things,"
end quote, "noting her role as a Russian ballerina."
And so there it was, New Town, New Life, New Job, New Name.
And not long after, Jack Cole brought her back.
(09:29):
This time, it wasn't a film.
It was Zickfeld Follies, bound for Broadway.
Opening night in Philadelphia was unlike anything she'd ever done before.
When the curtain rose, she stood high on a platform
inside a shell-shaped pool.
Arms extended, holding drapes on either side of her towering wig.
(09:50):
She was the image of Venus.
And for that opening tableau, she was "miss Zickfeld."
The star was T'Lula Bankhead.
Carol Haney was also in the cast.
And for the first time, Jack Cole let her infuse his choreography
with her Spanish training, Flamenco Hands, Long Lines, Floresches,
(10:10):
that were distinctly hers.
Sadly, that show, with all that incredible talent,
closed in Philadelphia and never made it to Broadway.
But to be a Jack Cole dancer, she once said,
"The crown in your dancing life," end quote.
And for that time in her life, she wore it with the poise of a queen,
(10:30):
not just chosen, but deserving.
A year later, she stopped the show in Little Abner on Broadway.
She didn't speak a word.
Three minutes on stage as stupify in Jones,
hips sway in eyes locked every movement dripping
with exaggerated sensuality.
Audiences roared, critics called it unforgettable.
(10:53):
No lines, no lyrics, just the body in motion.
She reprised her role in the 1959 film adaptation of Little Abner.
A rare honor in Hollywood where stage performers were often replaced
by bigger names on screen, but she was irreplaceable.
And now she was doing it on film, her name and body
(11:15):
featured prominently on the movie's poster.
Her image from this movie remains a cultural touchstone
for theatrical sensuality, comic booklamor, ballet poise,
and the kind of unforgettable presence
that transcends language.
What started as a silent showstopper on stage
had become a permanent part of pop culture.
(11:36):
And that same year, she starred on Broadway
in the straight play, The Marriage Go Round,
her first major speaking role.
No dance this time, just her, Charles Boyet
and Claudette Colbert, two Hollywood giants,
and she more than held her own,
winning the Tony for best featured actress in a play.
(11:58):
She soon reprised the role in the film adaptation
of The Marriage Go Round, starring opposite
Screen Legends James Mason and Susan Hayward.
She was starting to be seen as more than just a body.
But the dancing never stopped.
She hit the road in a national tour of damn Yankees playing Lola,
(12:18):
one of the classic seductresses of the stage.
And then came My Living Doll, a sci-fi sitcom in 1964
where she played a female Android named Roda.
The role demanded control, emotional restraint, physical precision.
She later said it was the most challenging part of her career.
(12:40):
She had to move without intention, speak without inflection,
but her dance background gave her the edge.
Years of training had taught her how to communicate anything with her body,
emotion or stillness, passion or neutrality.
She then starred opposite Joel Gray in "Stop the World I Wanna Get Off"
(13:02):
eight months of curtain calls, standing ovations,
and a spotlight she fully owned.
Then in 1965 she starred in "Earmala Duce,"
another national tour, another role utilizing her dance.
Then came Batman.
She wasn't chasing the role, she didn't even know the show,
(13:24):
but one weekend in New York, her younger brother,
visiting from Harvard, picked up the phone and handed it to her.
Someone in Hollywood was asking if she'd like to play a character named Catwoman.
She hesitated, "Her brother didn't. Do it," he said.
"It's camp. Camp is in."
So she flew to Los Angeles that weekend.
(13:45):
Costume fitting by Tuesday were her sold by Wednesday.
She never auditioned.
She just showed up and became iconic.
Her background in dance gave her an edge no one else had.
Every slink slide and stair was choreographed by her.
That famous staircase glide, she once called it,
(14:07):
a dance like Fossy or Cole.
And that was the secret.
Her Catwoman wasn't just played, she was crafted
through rhythm, tension, control.
It was the culmination of everything she'd ever studied,
a character built from technique and instinct
and brought to life through the body of a dancer.
(14:29):
And that is why it worked.
As the years went on, she never stopped dancing.
She continued taking class, ballet with Stanley Holden
in Los Angeles among others.
In her 60s, she hit the Paris Runways,
modeling for Fashion icon, Tieri Mugler,
alongside Linda Evangelista and Claudius Schiffer.
(14:50):
She wasn't a novelty act she belonged.
That same year in 1992, she lit up George Michael's
Too Funky video, a high-fashion fever dream where she floated
through the frame like runway goddess in command.
Then in 1995, her name became the title of a hit film,
(15:11):
starring another dance icon, Patrick Swayze.
She appeared in the final scene too, playful,
poised, almost mythical, a symbol of everything the film stood for,
not just admired, revered.
And then the full circle moment.
She stepped back into the very same costume
(15:32):
that had made her famous four decades earlier.
42 years after her Broadway debut,
she returned as stupophile Jones.
Same part, same costume, same spellbinding effect.
Because she never stopped using what dance gave her.
Command, clarity, control.
(15:54):
Dancing was the love of my life, she once said,
more than acting, more than singing, more than anything.
And she brought that love to every frame,
every stage, every moment.
Her name, Julie Numer.
And now you know the rest of the story.
(16:14):
All right, dance fan, before I get into non-dance stuff on Ms. Numer,
if you enjoyed the episode, felt inspired,
educated, entertained, make sure you like the video,
follow or subscribe to the podcast
wherever you're watching or listening.
Hit that notification bell on YouTube
so you are the first to know when a video drops
(16:34):
and tell me in the comments your thoughts.
I need to know, I'd love to know.
Pass on to anybody, everybody you think would love to know.
The dance behind this pop culture icon.
Okay, now a few other things, first with the acting.
Julie auditioned for Lee Strasberg for the actor studio
(16:54):
and was accepted and trained there.
Now this was after she won her Tony, by the way.
She thought, well, I better take this seriously now.
I mean, leave it to her to win a Tony for acting
and then study at the actor studio.
Now while many, many Numer biographies will tell you,
(17:16):
she took class with Marilyn Monroe.
It's not true.
I was not at the actor studio when Marilyn was there,
but I didn't see her once in a while.
She was there, quiet.
But she was in class with Jane Fonda.
By the mid 1960s onward, she became a very familiar face
on television, guest starring in dozens and dozens of shows
(17:40):
with her signature poise and wit.
Highlights include the Twilight Zone Route 66,
Bewitched, Get Smart, the Monkeys, Star Trek, Colombo,
The Loveboat, Chips, Fantasy Island, Heart to Heart,
and The Bionic Woman I'm Losing My Breath, so many.
But acting, my friends, was really just one tiny chapter
(18:00):
in her life, really.
She was classically trained in Piano.
Actually, one of the classic episodes of her TV series,
which lasted for one season, My Living Doll,
shows her playing the piano and apparently America gasped
because it was clearly her doing it and she was extraordinary.
She also reportedly had perfect pitch,
(18:22):
a lifelong musical sensibility that informed everything she did.
In the 1970s, she invented and secured two US patents
for pantyhose featuring a cheek-enhancing shaping band,
marketed as Nudemar, and one invisible brazier,
styled like Marilyn Monroe's silhouette.
(18:44):
In the 1980s, she began investing in Los Angeles real estate,
playing a role in revitalizing neighborhoods
near La Brea and Fairfax.
Her private garden in Brentwood spans about 8,600 square feet
and includes over 80 rows varieties.
Themed rooms, orchids, fountains, a prehistoric section
(19:06):
for her son, John, and whimsical touches
like an Alice in Wonderland gate.
She even influenced local policy helping to enact a temporary ban
on leaf-blowers for residents' sake.
And honestly, can I please tell you, there is nothing I relate to more.
Leaf-blowers are my biggest peeve.
(19:27):
Her garden has actually earned magazine features,
TV segments, interviews, with several flowers named in her honor,
and she calls it her most meaningful, creative space.
"I live in paradise," she once said.
She also trained as an opera singer for eight years.
My God, what can not she do?
(19:47):
But her greatest love in life, you might think it was dance,
I said that, but the truth is she gave birth at 48 to her son, John,
who was born with Down syndrome,
and after a bout of meningitis, lost his hearing.
To her, he has always been a wonderful artist,
a blessing to be around.
(20:07):
She has said, "John is what makes my life great.
He's responsible for my understanding and practice of unconditional love."
And that love absolutely comes through anytime you see footage of the two of them.
All told, if she changed careers every decade as she has joked,
performer, inventor, investor, realtor, gardener,
(20:30):
it was more than reinvention, it was evolution.
And still, it doesn't quite capture her.
She's 91 today, thriving luminous and still posting on social media
with the same mix of elegance, wit, and mischief
that's always defined her, impossible to summarize,
but unforgettable all the same.
(20:52):
Okay, that's all I got.
Until next time.
[music]
[music]
(00:02):
You know her as a pop culture icon as Catwoman,
but everything iconic about her was built on dance.
Welcome to the rest of the story, my weekly deep dive,
into the dancers who shaped culture.
Often without getting the credit, they deserve.
I'm your host, Miller Dauray, and this is my podcast,
(00:24):
Hey, Dancer.
Be sure to follow or subscribe so you never miss an episode.
Like, comment, share, oh this platform just loves when you engage
and it helps me spread these dance stories.
I bring to you with a lot of work and passion and love.
And stick around for the outro because as I always reiterate,
(00:45):
this is a dance centered podcast.
So in the outro, I'll share other talents and accomplishments
today's subject gave to the world.
Okay, let's get into it.
She was born in 1933 in Las Vegas, California.
Her father was an engineering professor,
head of the Fizz Ed department, and head football coach
(01:05):
at Los Angeles City College.
Her mother had danced in the Zigfeld Follies
until a car accident scarred her face
and ended her performing career.
That loss shaped everything.
She poured her dreams into her daughter.
By five, she could read music.
Soon after, she was enrolled in ballet.
Over the next few years, her mother drove her to every kind of lesson.
(01:28):
Tap, flamenco, Spanish dance, anywhere in greater Los Angeles.
Movement wasn't just encouraged, it was orchestrated.
By seven, she was already at the top of her class
in both school and dance.
That same year, she appeared in a local department store
production of Alice in Wonderland.
Her first time performing for a crowd, she loved the attention.
(01:53):
By 11 or 12, she was studying Spanish dance
under Eduardo Cancino and his brother, Jose,
renowned performers, and yeah, the father and uncle of Rita Hayworth.
Their training emphasized precision, carriage, and command.
At 14, she danced the Bluebird variation
from Sleeping Beauty at her junior high.
(02:15):
She spent weekends dancing in full-scale opera productions
presented by Frank Pace, a major civic producer in Los Angeles.
At 15, she was featured as a ballet soloist in one of them, La Traviata.
By the time she hit high school, she stood nearly six feet tall
and even taller on point.
(02:36):
In ballet class, she quickly learned what that meant.
She would tower over her male partners.
Even the tallest ones disappeared behind her.
Her height became a defining trait,
a gift and a limitation.
There was no hiding in a line of dancers.
She wasn't built to blend in.
She had something else too.
(02:58):
Brilliant.
Her IQ tested above average, and her grades were immaculate.
She graduated high school at just 15.
That same year, she left for Europe with her mother and younger brother.
They spent a full year abroad, surrounded by centuries-old cathedrals,
grand architecture, and the romance of art and history.
(03:20):
She discovered something she hadn't yet felt in Los Angeles,
a sense of self, not just as a technician or a prodigy,
but as an artist, someone who didn't just follow beauty,
but created it.
She saw what a creative life could look like,
and decided it was hers.
When she returned to Los Angeles, she enrolled at UCLA,
(03:42):
scored a 99 on her entrance exam.
Took courses in French, piano, and philosophy,
but the classroom couldn't compete with the stage,
and after six weeks, she walked away.
After leaving UCLA, she jumped straight into dance work,
booking uncredited roles in a string of films.
(04:02):
It was a stunningly fast leap into the industry.
Rare then, and even rare now.
And she's walking her way through college.
She's a blink, and you'll miss her chorus girl.
But in just for you, she shares the screen with Bing Crosby himself
in the Alsacea in Bahia number,
performing a dance solo with style and grace,
(04:24):
then came Serpent of the Nile,
where she was cast as the Golden Girl,
a living statue painted head-to-toe in gold
who bursts to life in a striking solo.
It was her first real dance showcase on screen,
and she stole the moment.
In slaves of Babylon, she played a stylized temptress.
And in Demetrius and the Gladiators,
(04:46):
she danced as part of a temple sequence.
These were designed as ensemble numbers,
but her height, poise, and almost ethereal presence
made her impossible to miss.
It didn't take long for the studio to notice.
By 19, Universal Studios entrusted her as a choreographer
and movement coach.
She became a dance in for contract stars.
(05:09):
Stepping in for the most challenging routines
and began teaching movement to the studio's rising talent.
For someone not yet even 20, it was nearly unheard of.
According to her, she first met Jack Hole
on the stage of 20th Century Fox,
auditioning for The Farmer Takes a Wife,
Betty Grable's final film.
(05:30):
At this audition, he had her dancing in ways
she never had before.
It's rumored there was about 90 minutes of dance class
before even getting to the choreography.
Now, Jack Hole widely regarded as the father
of theatrical jazz dance.
We defined what jazz could look like on stage and screen.
Bob Fossy studied him, so did Gwen Verdon.
(05:51):
Cole's style pushed dancers to their limits.
As she put it, quote, he could do everything
from Indian to Harlem to Spanish to Esquimo.
End quote, the Farmer Takes a Wife came out
after the I Don't Care Girl.
Another Cole choreographed film that she also danced in.
She later said, "I must have been 18
(06:12):
when I danced with Jack for the first time.
We know this much for sure.
She was dancing in films by at least 18,
working with Cole by 19,
and eventually became part of his elite troop
for three seasons,
with Gwen Verdon leading company classes.
She also danced on film alongside Gwen Verdon
and other Cole trained legends like Matt Maddox.
(06:35):
Some of those films were choreographed by Cole himself,
like Gentlemen Preferblons.
Others like Call Me Madam and The Bandwagon weren't.
But still featured dancers from his orbit.
It was a dynasty of dance,
and she was right in the middle of it.
Oh, and in The Bandwagon, she graced the screen with Fred Astaire,
(06:57):
and she kept her knees bent the entire time
just so she wouldn't tower over him in heels.
But not long after that, something changed.
She was cast as one of the brides in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,
a major role with singing,
screen time, and the kind of technicolor visibility
most dancers only dreamed of.
(07:18):
But there was a catch.
She was too tall.
Too tall for the male dancers, Michael Kid,
the choreographer, had assembled.
So they paired her with Jeff Richards,
a former baseball player turned actor with basically no dance experience.
While the other brides leapt and spun in Michael Kid's now legendary choreography,
(07:40):
she was left on the sidelines,
a dancer with all the tools forced into the background.
Still, she did her part.
After filming, she joined the other brides
for a studio-planned press tour throughout the Southwest.
But when it wrapped, she didn't stick around.
Without warning, she booked a one-way ticket to New York.
(08:03):
Her family was stunned.
MGM was the pinnacle.
Why walk away?
But she wasn't chasing Stardom.
She was chasing something deeper,
a place where she could move.
Be seen, take up space.
In 1954, she landed in New York.
And unlike Hollywood, where she'd always felt like a novelty,
(08:25):
here, she fit right in.
Sophisticated enough for Uptown Suarez,
Bohemian enough for Downtown Solans.
She hit the pavement looking for dance work on Broadway,
but casting directors didn't know what to do with her.
A woman who stood six foot two in heels,
there was no room for a dazzling enchantress in the chorus line.
(08:46):
So she pivoted.
Her figure became her fortune.
She started modeling for dime-store covers and record sleeves.
Her face gracing everything from romance novels to jazz albums.
Her luck was shifting.
She changed her last name.
Then, on February 25, 1955,
she made her Broadway debut in the Cole Porter musical,
(09:09):
Silk Stockings.
In New York Daily News Critic,
called her, quote, "the loveliest of all the many pretty young things,"
end quote, "noting her role as a Russian ballerina."
And so there it was, New Town, New Life, New Job, New Name.
And not long after, Jack Cole brought her back.
(09:29):
This time, it wasn't a film.
It was Zickfeld Follies, bound for Broadway.
Opening night in Philadelphia was unlike anything she'd ever done before.
When the curtain rose, she stood high on a platform
inside a shell-shaped pool.
Arms extended, holding drapes on either side of her towering wig.
(09:50):
She was the image of Venus.
And for that opening tableau, she was "miss Zickfeld."
The star was T'Lula Bankhead.
Carol Haney was also in the cast.
And for the first time, Jack Cole let her infuse his choreography
with her Spanish training, Flamenco Hands, Long Lines, Floresches,
(10:10):
that were distinctly hers.
Sadly, that show, with all that incredible talent,
closed in Philadelphia and never made it to Broadway.
But to be a Jack Cole dancer, she once said,
"The crown in your dancing life," end quote.
And for that time in her life, she wore it with the poise of a queen,
(10:30):
not just chosen, but deserving.
A year later, she stopped the show in Little Abner on Broadway.
She didn't speak a word.
Three minutes on stage as stupify in Jones,
hips sway in eyes locked every movement dripping
with exaggerated sensuality.
Audiences roared, critics called it unforgettable.
(10:53):
No lines, no lyrics, just the body in motion.
She reprised her role in the 1959 film adaptation of Little Abner.
A rare honor in Hollywood where stage performers were often replaced
by bigger names on screen, but she was irreplaceable.
And now she was doing it on film, her name and body
(11:15):
featured prominently on the movie's poster.
Her image from this movie remains a cultural touchstone
for theatrical sensuality, comic booklamor, ballet poise,
and the kind of unforgettable presence
that transcends language.
What started as a silent showstopper on stage
had become a permanent part of pop culture.
(11:36):
And that same year, she starred on Broadway
in the straight play, The Marriage Go Round,
her first major speaking role.
No dance this time, just her, Charles Boyet
and Claudette Colbert, two Hollywood giants,
and she more than held her own,
winning the Tony for best featured actress in a play.
(11:58):
She soon reprised the role in the film adaptation
of The Marriage Go Round, starring opposite
Screen Legends James Mason and Susan Hayward.
She was starting to be seen as more than just a body.
But the dancing never stopped.
She hit the road in a national tour of damn Yankees playing Lola,
(12:18):
one of the classic seductresses of the stage.
And then came My Living Doll, a sci-fi sitcom in 1964
where she played a female Android named Roda.
The role demanded control, emotional restraint, physical precision.
She later said it was the most challenging part of her career.
(12:40):
She had to move without intention, speak without inflection,
but her dance background gave her the edge.
Years of training had taught her how to communicate anything with her body,
emotion or stillness, passion or neutrality.
She then starred opposite Joel Gray in "Stop the World I Wanna Get Off"
(13:02):
eight months of curtain calls, standing ovations,
and a spotlight she fully owned.
Then in 1965 she starred in "Earmala Duce,"
another national tour, another role utilizing her dance.
Then came Batman.
She wasn't chasing the role, she didn't even know the show,
(13:24):
but one weekend in New York, her younger brother,
visiting from Harvard, picked up the phone and handed it to her.
Someone in Hollywood was asking if she'd like to play a character named Catwoman.
She hesitated, "Her brother didn't. Do it," he said.
"It's camp. Camp is in."
So she flew to Los Angeles that weekend.
(13:45):
Costume fitting by Tuesday were her sold by Wednesday.
She never auditioned.
She just showed up and became iconic.
Her background in dance gave her an edge no one else had.
Every slink slide and stair was choreographed by her.
That famous staircase glide, she once called it,
(14:07):
a dance like Fossy or Cole.
And that was the secret.
Her Catwoman wasn't just played, she was crafted
through rhythm, tension, control.
It was the culmination of everything she'd ever studied,
a character built from technique and instinct
and brought to life through the body of a dancer.
(14:29):
And that is why it worked.
As the years went on, she never stopped dancing.
She continued taking class, ballet with Stanley Holden
in Los Angeles among others.
In her 60s, she hit the Paris Runways,
modeling for Fashion icon, Tieri Mugler,
alongside Linda Evangelista and Claudius Schiffer.
(14:50):
She wasn't a novelty act she belonged.
That same year in 1992, she lit up George Michael's
Too Funky video, a high-fashion fever dream where she floated
through the frame like runway goddess in command.
Then in 1995, her name became the title of a hit film,
(15:11):
starring another dance icon, Patrick Swayze.
She appeared in the final scene too, playful,
poised, almost mythical, a symbol of everything the film stood for,
not just admired, revered.
And then the full circle moment.
She stepped back into the very same costume
(15:32):
that had made her famous four decades earlier.
42 years after her Broadway debut,
she returned as stupophile Jones.
Same part, same costume, same spellbinding effect.
Because she never stopped using what dance gave her.
Command, clarity, control.
(15:54):
Dancing was the love of my life, she once said,
more than acting, more than singing, more than anything.
And she brought that love to every frame,
every stage, every moment.
Her name, Julie Numer.
And now you know the rest of the story.
(16:14):
All right, dance fan, before I get into non-dance stuff on Ms. Numer,
if you enjoyed the episode, felt inspired,
educated, entertained, make sure you like the video,
follow or subscribe to the podcast
wherever you're watching or listening.
Hit that notification bell on YouTube
so you are the first to know when a video drops
(16:34):
and tell me in the comments your thoughts.
I need to know, I'd love to know.
Pass on to anybody, everybody you think would love to know.
The dance behind this pop culture icon.
Okay, now a few other things, first with the acting.
Julie auditioned for Lee Strasberg for the actor studio
(16:54):
and was accepted and trained there.
Now this was after she won her Tony, by the way.
She thought, well, I better take this seriously now.
I mean, leave it to her to win a Tony for acting
and then study at the actor studio.
Now while many, many Numer biographies will tell you,
(17:16):
she took class with Marilyn Monroe.
It's not true.
I was not at the actor studio when Marilyn was there,
but I didn't see her once in a while.
She was there, quiet.
But she was in class with Jane Fonda.
By the mid 1960s onward, she became a very familiar face
on television, guest starring in dozens and dozens of shows
(17:40):
with her signature poise and wit.
Highlights include the Twilight Zone Route 66,
Bewitched, Get Smart, the Monkeys, Star Trek, Colombo,
The Loveboat, Chips, Fantasy Island, Heart to Heart,
and The Bionic Woman I'm Losing My Breath, so many.
But acting, my friends, was really just one tiny chapter
(18:00):
in her life, really.
She was classically trained in Piano.
Actually, one of the classic episodes of her TV series,
which lasted for one season, My Living Doll,
shows her playing the piano and apparently America gasped
because it was clearly her doing it and she was extraordinary.
She also reportedly had perfect pitch,
(18:22):
a lifelong musical sensibility that informed everything she did.
In the 1970s, she invented and secured two US patents
for pantyhose featuring a cheek-enhancing shaping band,
marketed as Nudemar, and one invisible brazier,
styled like Marilyn Monroe's silhouette.
(18:44):
In the 1980s, she began investing in Los Angeles real estate,
playing a role in revitalizing neighborhoods
near La Brea and Fairfax.
Her private garden in Brentwood spans about 8,600 square feet
and includes over 80 rows varieties.
Themed rooms, orchids, fountains, a prehistoric section
(19:06):
for her son, John, and whimsical touches
like an Alice in Wonderland gate.
She even influenced local policy helping to enact a temporary ban
on leaf-blowers for residents' sake.
And honestly, can I please tell you, there is nothing I relate to more.
Leaf-blowers are my biggest peeve.
(19:27):
Her garden has actually earned magazine features,
TV segments, interviews, with several flowers named in her honor,
and she calls it her most meaningful, creative space.
"I live in paradise," she once said.
She also trained as an opera singer for eight years.
My God, what can not she do?
(19:47):
But her greatest love in life, you might think it was dance,
I said that, but the truth is she gave birth at 48 to her son, John,
who was born with Down syndrome,
and after a bout of meningitis, lost his hearing.
To her, he has always been a wonderful artist,
a blessing to be around.
(20:07):
She has said, "John is what makes my life great.
He's responsible for my understanding and practice of unconditional love."
And that love absolutely comes through anytime you see footage of the two of them.
All told, if she changed careers every decade as she has joked,
performer, inventor, investor, realtor, gardener,
(20:30):
it was more than reinvention, it was evolution.
And still, it doesn't quite capture her.
She's 91 today, thriving luminous and still posting on social media
with the same mix of elegance, wit, and mischief
that's always defined her, impossible to summarize,
but unforgettable all the same.
(20:52):
Okay, that's all I got.
Until next time.
[music]
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