Nora Boland(1929-2008)
- Actress
Short, round and sweet-faced, she was a little butterball of sunshine
(no more than 5 feet tall) topped by a tight, adorable, tangerine
Orphan Annie-like frizz. Character actress Nora Boland was one of a
host of endearing character ladies who fell into their careers quite
late in life. Born Nora Madeleine Webb on December 14, 1929 in
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, she had pursued theater here and there for
much of her life but was comfortably settled in as a married lady and a
mother several times over by the time she decided to plant her feet
more firmly into the entertainment business. She couldn't miss. Despite
a minor presence in films and on TV, she would effortlessly steal focus
with a simple glazed look or act of befuddlement. Add to that was a
wonderfully hearty, squawk-like laugh that seemed so mischievous in
nature and could be quite infectious.
Making her film debut at age 48 in a small role in Gene Wilder's Drôle de séducteur (1977), Nora lent her gleeful disposition to other comedic film situations as well, such as in California Hôtel (1978) and Rodney Dangerfield's À fond la fac (1986). She seemed truly in her element with TV comedy, making token appearances in a number of sitcoms including "WKRP in Cincinnati," "Gimme a Break" and "227" while perhaps playing a neighbor, landlady, store customer, relative, cleaning lady, or flighty matron. She managed to provide comedy relief too in more dramatic situations ("General Hospital," "Hill Street Blues" and "Highway to Heaven.")
It was on the musical stage, however, that Nora truly had her chance to shine. A one-time member of Lonny Chapman's Group Repertory Theatre, Nora grabbed a number of the laughs as prison matron "Mama Morton" in their production of "Chicago" during the 1980s and had her own scene-stealing numbers in other musicals as well that played around the Los Angeles area. Nora and I worked together for several seasons at the Norris Theatre in Palos Verdes in their annual offering of "A Christmas Carol," which featured such notable Scrooges as Ford Rainey, Raye Birk and Robert Mandan. As expected, she was a giddy delight as Mrs. Fezziwig, among other roles.
Experiencing problems with hypertension and diabetes in later years, Nora retired in the 1990s and focused on her true passion -- writing -- especially poetry. She passed away peacefully in her Rolling Hills Estates home on January 15, 2008, at age 78...and, with it, just a little less joy and merriment will be had in our small L.A. theater community.
Making her film debut at age 48 in a small role in Gene Wilder's Drôle de séducteur (1977), Nora lent her gleeful disposition to other comedic film situations as well, such as in California Hôtel (1978) and Rodney Dangerfield's À fond la fac (1986). She seemed truly in her element with TV comedy, making token appearances in a number of sitcoms including "WKRP in Cincinnati," "Gimme a Break" and "227" while perhaps playing a neighbor, landlady, store customer, relative, cleaning lady, or flighty matron. She managed to provide comedy relief too in more dramatic situations ("General Hospital," "Hill Street Blues" and "Highway to Heaven.")
It was on the musical stage, however, that Nora truly had her chance to shine. A one-time member of Lonny Chapman's Group Repertory Theatre, Nora grabbed a number of the laughs as prison matron "Mama Morton" in their production of "Chicago" during the 1980s and had her own scene-stealing numbers in other musicals as well that played around the Los Angeles area. Nora and I worked together for several seasons at the Norris Theatre in Palos Verdes in their annual offering of "A Christmas Carol," which featured such notable Scrooges as Ford Rainey, Raye Birk and Robert Mandan. As expected, she was a giddy delight as Mrs. Fezziwig, among other roles.
Experiencing problems with hypertension and diabetes in later years, Nora retired in the 1990s and focused on her true passion -- writing -- especially poetry. She passed away peacefully in her Rolling Hills Estates home on January 15, 2008, at age 78...and, with it, just a little less joy and merriment will be had in our small L.A. theater community.
