The Incredible Transformation: From a Small Troublemaker to a Funny Movie Star!

Mickey Rooney was born on the lively streets of Brooklyn, becoming a major figure in American entertainment. From a young age, he was drawn to the spotlight, fueling a passion for acting that would soon reach screens and stages across the nation.

Imagine a small child, barely more than a toddler, winning over crowds with his lively spirit and natural charm. Mickey started his career in vaudeville, performing with his parents. Here, he honed his skills in singing, dancing, and comedy, dazzling audiences with his talent.

The big screen, though, was where Mickey’s brilliance truly shone. With a mischievous grin and a sparkle in his eye, he brought his characters to life, capturing the hearts of millions. Fans still remember his playful role as Puck in Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and his beloved portrayal of Andy Hardy, which skyrocketed him to Hollywood fame.

At MGM Studios, Mickey became a well-known figure, often performing alongside stars like Judy Garland. Through song and dance, he carved his place in movie history, leaving a lasting impact during Hollywood’s golden years.

Yet, Mickey faced many struggles. He served in WWII and rode the rollercoaster of show business, staying resilient through it all. As he grew older, he shifted from leading roles to a variety of characters, consistently delighting audiences with his range and charm.

Mickey’s personal life was also eventful, filled with love, laughter, and some drama. His short marriages and adventures in publishing added layers to his already fascinating personality.

Today marks 100 years since the birth of Mickey Rooney, once Hollywood’s golden boy, and probably the actor with the longest career in film history.

Rooney’s journey in entertainment began early. At just 15 months, he performed in a tuxedo in his parents’ vaudeville shows. By age 6, he landed his first movie role, and he kept acting until he passed in 2014.

In his prime, Rooney played Andy Hardy, a lovable troublemaker, in 16 films. The America in these movies resembled The Saturday Evening Post’s ideal version of the country: moral, neat, and filled with happy endings. Rooney himself was connected to the Post. At 13, he won a medal for selling magazines door-to-door, even selling at studios where he filmed his Mickey McGuire movies. Unlike Andy, whose business attempts often failed, Rooney seemed to succeed in real life.

But the Post’s opinion of him changed over time. By 1962, the magazine painted him as a symbol of America’s “moral decay” due to his bitter divorces and unpaid taxes. “Nothing in this sad story surprises us,” the Post wrote, “but we remember Andy Hardy.”

Rooney’s career followed a familiar path: an innocent child star who later faced adult troubles. Moving away from his clean-cut Andy Hardy role, he got caught in fame’s traps. He couldn’t play Andy forever, and he wanted more challenging roles.

In 1947, a year after his last official Andy Hardy movie (not counting a 1958 revival), the Post published a long profile on him titled “Hollywood’s Fabulous Brat.” He had topped box office charts from 1939 to 1941 and had gained a tough reputation both on and off the set. Now, he wanted roles with depth. “I’ll never make another Hardy picture,” he told the Post (though he did), saying he was tired of “dopey, insipid parts.” At 27, with two marriages behind him, two sons, and an Army stint, he was ready to play mature roles.

Rooney wanted to challenge himself, as he had when he played Puck in *A Midsummer Night’s Dream* in 1935, a role praised by *The New York Times* as “remarkable.” He pursued serious films like the boxing drama *Killer McCoy* and the musical *Summer Holiday.* But after years of Hardy films and musicals with Judy Garland, his star faded.

Despite his talent and resilience, Rooney couldn’t have imagined a future without fame. He thought he could revive his career as he always had. Nancy Jo Sales noted in *Vanity Fair* after Rooney’s death that he struggled with his youthful looks and short height; he wasn’t a boy anymore, yet he couldn’t be a leading man. Still, he kept going, acting in the 21st century in films like *The Black Stallion* and *It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World,* and starring on Broadway in *Sugar Babies* in 1979, which led to years of tours.

Rooney’s skill and dedication kept him tied to show business. Trained in vaudeville and Hollywood’s tough studio system, he learned new skills, from playing the banjo to crying on cue, to keep his audience happy. A notable moment came in 1941 at President Roosevelt’s Inauguration Gala. While other stars performed familiar acts, Rooney decided to play a three-movement symphony he composed himself, *Melodante.* The audience, thinking he was joking, laughed when he sat down at the piano. After playing his 19-minute piece, they applauded him loudly.

For Rooney, “triple threat” hardly covered his abilities. From a poor background, he poured everything into his career, though it didn’t always go his way. “People look at me and say, ‘There’s a lucky bum who got all the breaks,’” he said in 1947. “Yeah, I got the breaks — all in the neck.”