There are a select few for whom the public has an endless fascination, which shows no sign of abatement. For example, Marilyn Monroe, Humphrey Bogart, James Dean, Audrey Hepburn and John Wayne are as revered today, as they were during the height of their movie success.

Equally however, there are a number of stars that have slipped off the radar, known to a mere handful of devoted fans. One such lost individual (once described as ‘The Incredible Hunk’), was Victor Mature. A larger-than-life screen presence (best exemplified as a Biblical strongman in Samson and Delilah and Demetrius and the Gladiator) who filled the huge cinema screens throughout much of the 1940s & 1950s.

Yet this Hollywood star’s neglect is perhaps coming to an end – courtesy of his daughter Victoria. At this year’s Edinburgh Fringe, Ms Mature (a vivacious lady with her own acclaimed career as an accomplished opera singer) presented her one-woman as a tribute to his memory.

One clever and amusing aspect of the show (created with great technical skill by her director and partner, Pete Shaner) involved inserting Ms Mature into scenes from her dad’s films, interacting as if appearing together. It was amazing and impressively edited, father and daughter seamlessly converse – straight out of an old 1940s movie.

With this, she is attempting to raise awareness of his life and career, whilst also looking to rehabilitate his reputation and enhance his screen legacy; something that has by and large, been overlooked in modern times.

After becoming acquainted with them both (via social media), I showed them a touch of good old fashioned Leith hospitality by taking them to Vittorias restaurant. Throughout the meal we amiably chatted about her dad’s movies, tales of old Hollywood, travels to far flung locations and the marked distinctiveness and contrast between Scotch malt whisky and a good Kentucky Bourbon. Victoria even chatted away in fluent Italian with the waiters and owner Tony Crolla in between the pasta dishes, and a variety of movie memories. It was an evening I will always remember.

Victor Mature was nothing if not game, exerting macho confidence while tackling noir thrillers, westerns, musicals, sword and toga epics (a specialty of his) and even the odd farcical comedy. After all, how many screen stars can claim to have appeared opposite everyone. From Rita Hayworth to Richard Burton, Clark Gable to Diana Dors, and Orson Welles to…the Monkees!

That last crazy collaboration between Mature and America’s version of The Beatles - in the film Head - proved to be a bizarre, surreal, psychedelic musical mind trip (no doubt assisted by some illegal substances!) that was co-written and co-produced by Jack Nicholson, no less.

Looking back, my own personal memories of Victor Mature originate from two specific visits to that much loved old fleapit of a picture house, affectionately known as The Salon Cinema at 5 Baxter’s Place. Where I saw the western The Last Frontier and The Sharkfighters …the Jaws of its day.

You could say that Victor Mature was no method actor. Nor it seems did he harbor pretensions in embracing cinema as an art form. He was considered a hard-working professional who (from the surface anyway) appeared to happily go along with the old studio contract system. He may not have won any Oscars, but he gave millions enjoyment and entertainment, which isn’t such a bad epitaph.

Yet add, that on occasion, even the critics avoided derision about some of his performances. In the 1946 John Ford western My Darling Clementine he was impressive as the melancholic gunfighter Doc Holliday, even throwing in a bit of Shakespeare for good measure. While in the tense noir thriller Kiss of Death, he was the small-time crook turned police informer. Confronting the violent threats from giggling psychopath Richard Widmark.

Perhaps best of all, is when Mature came out of semi-retirement in the mid-sixties, threw caution to the wind, and teamed up with Peter Sellers in the Neil Simon comedy – After the Fox. He was a revelation, playing a comically exaggerated version of his old Hollywood image: a conceited, egotistical movie star past his prime. In playing comedy, he was hilarious, in fact for my money, he was far funnier than Sellers (a fact that must have dented the British comedy actor’s fragile ego) while gaining the lion’s share of the critic’s approval. It’s a great pity that he didn’t pursue more comedies, as he no doubt displayed a rare flair in that department.

Though the critics were often a little unkind to several of his on-screen efforts, he gave the general impression that he didn’t take acting too seriously. A point highlighted in a story that has since become part of Hollywood folklore. As an enthusiastic golfer Mature tried joining an exclusive LA golf club who gave a blunt response to his application:

“I’m sorry Mr Mature, but unfortunately, we don’t accept actors at our club.” Undaunted, Victor replied, “hell, I’m no actor, and I’ve made 64 films to prove it!”

You have to admire a man like that. ■