An Asteroid not a Star: The Life of Anita Thompson

 

Anita Thompson in By Right of Birth, 1921.

When Anita Thompson looked back on her time as a young woman, she claimed she was “an asteroid then, in orbit about the brilliant stars.” Becoming a celebrity takes a combination of luck and hard work. Thompson certainly had the luck to draw attention but seemed indifferent to fame and content to look on from far away.

Thompson enjoyed a privileged childhood as a member of a prominent mixed-race family clan. She was born in Chicago in 1901 but her immediate family moved to California when she was a teenager. Segregation prevented wealthy blacks from staying in the best hotels so Thompson’s mother hosted family but also unrelated luminaries visiting Los Angeles. In this way, Thompson became friends with A’Lelia Walker, daughter of Madame C.J. Walker. During this period, she probably had an affair with W.E.B. duBois, who featured her on the cover of the magazine he edited.

The Crisis May 1917

Thompson worked her way into a prestigious dancing school that often provided cast extras for Hollywood films. She appeared in the 1921 movie Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, in which Rudolph Valentino danced the tango to fame. Thompson had a more prominent role as a royal attendant in The Thief of Bagdad (1924) and became friends with Anna Mae Wong who also appeared in the film.

Thompson also starred in one of the most successful black production company movies of the 1920s, By Right of Birth. She played Juanita Cooper in this film made by the Lincoln Motion Picture Company. In the film, Thompson’s character is adopted and her search for her birth parents reveals the fact that she is heir to a fortune and mixed race though she had assumed her whole life that she was white. Thompson received praise in the black press for her performance but also in mainstream publications. The Billboard review singled her out and summed up the movie as “a very pretty story, nicely told and well handled with a pleasant surprise at the finish.”

By Right of Birth, 1921.

Thompson, however, left Hollywood and the chance of a movie career. She fell in love with New York when she visited in 1923. She wrote years later that dancing at the Waldorf-Astoria was where she belonged, “feeling glamorous in an accordion-pleated pale yellow chiffon dress.”

Thompson abandoned film acting for other reasons also. Her genteel mother “thought Hollywood was immoral and the next thing to appearing in the circus.” Thompson herself also judged many of the stars as “coarse” and claimed she had only performed in movies for fun.

By Right of Birth, 1921.

She may have truly felt that way but she probably also knew she could not succeed in 1920s Hollywood. There was only room for one black Mary Pickford, and Edna Morton already had a lock on that position. The executives at the Lincoln Motion Picture Company, and probably Thompson, knew the firm was in trouble due to distribution complications and a lack of funding. They only made five films and By Right of Birth would be the last. Other black production companies existed but African Americans had few opportunities in film and even fewer chances to play characters who were not racist stereotypes.

Advertisement for two-day showing of By Right of Birth in the Dallas Express. September 17, 1921

So Thompson settled on the east coast to attend college but she remained in the spotlight. She danced in the chorus line of the popular Broadway show Runnin’ Wild but passed on the chance to go on tour with the company. She told a journalist that she wanted to pursue more serious art but remembered years later that she doubted anyone could make a living as an artist. She performed in stage plays and caused a scandal by traveling to Atlantic City with an engaged man. Thompson ultimately completed a teaching degree and took a job. Not ready to settle into a conventional life, however, she moved to Paris in 1928.

Pittsburgh Courier. October 25, 1924

Thompson remained comfortable in proximity to fame but never seemed to really choose celebrity. In Paris she had some success writing and also modeling for designers such as Coco Chanel. Surrealist artist Man Ray would occasionally take her to lunch and Thompson remembered feeling then that the “star-gazer would be elevated to the upper stratosphere.” She inspired poets and novelists, as well as artists, and was sure to send her mother all the books in which she was mentioned.

She returned to the US as World War II reached France and moved further away from celebrity. She married twice, became a psychologist and teacher. When she recorded her memories of her early decades, she was living on the island of St. Croix. Thompson died there in 1980 but left a fascinating account of her asteroid life.

Thanks for reading! Have a question, comment, or suggestion, let me know. Check out other posts on the right. To subscribe, email angela.firkus@gmail.com

 

Sources and Further Reading

Atwood, Rose. “Tired of Jazz, Pretty Star Deserts Chorus.” Pittsburgh Courier. July 19, 1924. [http://fultonhistory.com]

Bowser, Pearl, Jane Gaines, and Charles Musser, eds. Oscar Micheaux and His Circle: African-American Filmmaking and Race Cinema of the Silent Era. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001.

“By Right of Birth” Clips. Directed by Harry Gant. Lincoln Motion Picture Company, 1921. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCVrFj7fclg

“Dame Rumor Involves Pretty Actress and ‘Divorce Principals’ in Midnight Rout.” Pittsburgh Courier. Sept. 27, 1924. [http://fultonhistory.com]

Review of “By Right of Birth.” The Billboard. Oct. 29, 1921. https://lantern.mediahist.org/catalog/sim_billboard_1921-10-29_33_44_0098

Staff, MSRC. “Reynolds, Anita Thompson Dickinson” (2015). Manuscript Division Finding Aids. 166. https://dh.howard.edu/finaid_manu/166

[Thompson] Reynolds, Anita. American Cocktail: A ‘Colored Girl’ in the World. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2014.

“I Like to Fight”: Boxer Hattie Stewart, Early Sports Celebrity

“Hattie Stewart, Champion Female Boxer of the World, from the Champions of Games and Sport series issued by W.S. Kimball &Co.” (1887) The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick. The Met.

Hattie Stewart sat down with a reporter in 1887 to recount her victories both in the ring and outside of it. She knocked out Annie Lewis, who had been calling herself world champion, in less than two minutes and beat a man named Jones in Missouri. With these feats and others, she earned a place as one of the fifty sports stars featured on Kimball advertising cards. Stewart grew up fighting boys in her Philadelphia neighborhood and continued her combative ways as a woman in her twenties. She explained how she had slugged a baggage porter who would not give her back her dog and also a man who insulted her at a theater in Kansas City. When told that a woman who had challenged her to a fight claimed to have $10,000 worth of property, Stewart commented that if she owned that much she would “quit the business—as a profession.” Just the “profession” part so clearly she felt she would continue to fight on the side!

Stewart had earned fame for her boxing skills only a couple of years earlier. She began fighting at Harry Hill’s infamous saloon and other venues in New York City in 1884 and quickly caught the eye of sports enthusiasts. Stewart joined the athletic company of Richard K. Fox and was featured in his magazine The National Police Gazette. She sparred with John L. Sullivan and began calling herself his female counterpart—and it stuck. She challenged anyone, man or woman, to meet her in the ring.

The National Police Gazette (May 17, 1884)

The end of the nineteenth century was both a good and bad time to pursue a career as a female boxer. Stewart enjoyed access to venues such as Hill’s because boxing women were novel and they did not yet attract heavy censure for their unladylike ways. Stewart was arrested for her altercation with the porter and had her fights occasionally stopped by the police since boxing was illegal in many places. Generally, however, society was accepting of street violence. Also, bouts could be arranged without promoters so the athletes received all the money pledged for the fight. Stewart used the media to entice opponents and respond to challengers.

Stewart soon, however, found herself without competitive partners since the pool of boxers was so small. Men did not want to fight her and women too were intimidated by her size and skill. Middle-weight Minnie Rosenblatt Blesser told a reporter in 1893 that Stewart was 

“quick as a flash with both hands, and very spry on her legs. She is in fact the very best lady boxer I ever saw. Indeed, I think she could make almost any man I know of save a few of the tip toppers hustle for a victory.”

So Stewart went on the road for about twenty years, boxing when she could but also performing on vaudeville stages. She faced Leslie Remington in St. Paul and Libbie Ross in Salt Lake City. She teamed up with her husband Dick and when he died, her new partner Tom Gillen became her second husband and biggest fan. Stewart and Gillen, a singer and comedian, created a very popular show “Wanted, a Professor” that apparently combined boxing, dancing, and comedy. How I wish there was a recording or at least a description of it!

 

The New York Clipper Annual (1896)

 

Stewart performed in most of the major cities in the US including Chicago, Denver, and Seattle until possibly her health kept her at home starting in about 1905. Gillen continued to tour while Stewart stayed in their house on Lenox Avenue in upper Manhattan. She survived a surgery to remove a tumor in 1909. Obviously she was still a fighter but we have no additional stories of her facing anyone either in or out of the ring. Seems that she mellowed with age.

Hornell (NY) Evening Tribune, Jan. 17, 1925 (https://fultonhistory.com)

Stewart was not, however, content to be forgotten, or maybe it was Gillen who would not let it happen. She reemerged in the celebrity culture world of the 1920s, spotted in the audience at the theater and being remembered with mentions in newspapers and magazines such as Billboard. Gillen frequently featured her in his reminiscence pieces in the New York Morning Telegram and probably reissued one of her old photographs as a collectible card in 1925 with her nickname: the female John L. Sullivan. All fights, however, come to an end. Stewart passed away in 1936 one year after her husband died.

Thanks for reading! Have a question, comment, or suggestion, let me know. Check out other posts on the right. To subscribe, email angela.firkus@gmail.com

Sources and Further Reading

Benedict, Chris. “Pugilists in Petticoats.” The Grueling Truth. (Sept. 30, 2021). https://thegruelingtruth.com/boxing/pugilists-in-petticoats-hattie-stewart-challenges-hattie-leslie-for-recognition-as-the-true-female-john-l-sullivan/

McKee, Sam. “News and Gossip of Vaudeville.” New York Morning Telegraph. October 15, 1922, p. 2.

Pfister, Gertrud and Gerald Gems. “The Shady Past of Female Boxers—What Case Studies in the USA Reveal.” Sport in Society 20 (August 2017): 998-1012.

“She Loves to Fight: A Chat with Mrs. Hattie Stewart, ‘The Female John L. Sullivan.” Omaha Daily Bee. Dec. 28, 1887. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn99021999/1887-12-28/ed-1/seq-2/

Smith, Malissa. A History of Women’s Boxing. New York: Rowman and Littlefield, 2014.

“When a Woman Dons the Gloves.” The Wichita Daily Eagle. August 17, 1893. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn82014635/1893-08-17/ed-1/seq-2/

 

Bette Davis: “What Hollywood Has Given Me—What It Has Taken From Me”

In 1935, Bette Davis was on the verge of eclipsing all other actors in Hollywood. Fans such as Gordon Sellett of New Jersey sensed she was something special. He wrote a letter published in the June 1935 edition of Picture Play that praised Davis for her performance in Of Human Bondage and called for her to take home an Academy Award (she was nominated but did not win). He concluded by calling her “all too magnificent for mere words.” A few months later, Davis herself seemed to pause and take stock of her life as it was about to change forever. She published this thoughtful and revealing evaluation of celebrity. I hope you enjoy it! Please comment below and find previous articles on the right. To subscribe, email angela.firkus@gmail.com. Thanks for reading!

Motion Picture (May 1935)

Four years in the movie capital have wrought a complete change in Bette Davis. To deny it, she says, would be to admit stagnation.

Hollywood has given me added courage, a capacity for hard work, and taking it on the chin. I have never known better health, and I’m not rapping wood when I say it, either, for I’m not superstitious or a fatalist. I do believe in destiny. If I ever doubted Hollywood’s guide to the famous ones has removed that doubt. Here, where there are geniuses who are never recognized for their ability and talents, never given a chance, while other less gifted are lifted to the skies and are given everything.

I could cite many instances of those who undeservedly are at the pinnacle of fame and fortune. Some call it luck. I call it destiny. But even destiny works in partnership with hard work.

I went to Hollywood four years ago this December. I expected nothing but failure. I can truthfully say, “Veni, vidi, vici.” (I came, I saw, I conquered.)

I was appearing in a play, “The Solid South,” in New York with Richard Bennett when Universal discovered me and invited me to go to Hollywood. I remained with that studio a year and was on the verge of packing up and returning to New York when Warners offered me a role with George Arliss in “The Man Who Played God.” I’ve been with them ever since.

At first, Hollywood judged my acting solely by my appearance—the clothes I wore—both on and off the screen. That judgment came very near to sending me back to New York branded a failure. And all because I was getting too many goody-goody roles. I rebelled.

I conquered after a prolonged argument with studio officials to become a bad woman, cinematically speaking. The roles of “Mildred” in “Of Human Bondage” and “Marie” in “Bordertown,” two hateful characterizations, turned the wheel in my favor.

I have learned that the biggest insult Hollywoodians can pay you is to say, “Isn’t she a ‘nice’ girl?” Another thing, never be laughed at in Hollywood. Laugh first, then she laughs with you, but not at you. I’ve had to cultivate and maintain a sense of humor. I’ve learned to ask for things that I think I should have. 

Hollywood has given me the terrific satisfaction of doing something I wanted to do.

I have learned that the biggest insult Hollywood can pay you is to say, “Isn’t she a nice girl?”

I have learned to ask for things that I think I should have.

I have never known better health.

Hollywood has given me added courage, a capacity for hard work and taking it on the chin.

It has given me a philosophy which amounts to a creed. Yesterday is gone and there is no to-morrow. In other words, every day is a fresh beginning. To-morrow, if it comes, will be different. What if things go wrong? What if the world seems arrayed against me? Do I have the dumps, drip with self-pity, and give up in despair? I do not. I say to myself, “This, too, will pass away!” Yesterday is gone and we can’t recall it. Nothing is certain except change.

I came into this world twenty-six years ago at exactly fifteen minutes to nine in the morning to the accompaniment of an April shower. Rain has been music to my ears ever since, besides bringing me luck.

It rained when I signed my first contract with Warners. After my marriage in Yuma, Arizona, several years ago, in crossing the desert back to Hollywood with my husband and our party, we were greeted by one of the most glorious rainbows I have ever seen.

It rained the night I made my first appearance at the Provincetown Theater in “The Earth Between.” The show went to New York, giving me my first opportunity to play on Broadway. It poured the night “Broken Dishes” opened at the Ritz Theater in New York. The author and director had harbored misgivings about me, but after the first performance the author came back stage to tell me how delighted he was that I had remained in the cast.

On another occasion, Warren William and I were making a personal appearance tour and as we dashed into the Earle Theater in Washington in the pouring rain, I said, “This means good luck.” Our tour was a success.

 

Picture Play (Sept. 1935)

 

I was a most normal child; at least my mother says so. I had a temper. Was fastidious about my appearance. I was determined, but disliked fighting and still do for that matter. Yet I can’t bear to fail.

When I entered the Cushing Academy in Ashburnham, Massachusetts, there were seventy-five students. When the term ended there were only four and in order to finish my training I turned waitress.

My mother and father were divorced and the burden of supporting and educating my younger sister, Barbara, and myself fell upon mother’s shoulders. I thought it only right that I should lift the load. Later, when my first engagement with a stock company at the Cape Cod Playhouse in Dennis, Massachusetts, came to an abrupt close at the end of the first week, I worked as an usher in the same theater.

I have never been a martyr. The biggest doubter there ever was, I always have a feeling I’ll win in the end. I’ve always analyzed everything and am beginning to think I always will. I’ve never thought about dying. Have never been to a funeral, never a death in the family. In the face of tragedy I become hysterical.

Cried? Many times. I almost cried my eyes out after the preview of “Of Human Bondage.” I thought I was terrible. I had fought for three months for the part before I convinced the powers-that-be that I had a winning chance. They wanted an actress with a big name, but those with a “name” rejected it because it was unsympathetic.

Hollywood has given me a certain sense of values as far as money is concerned. I don’t believe in investing heavily and would rather take a low rate of interest in a sure thing than take a chance on risky investments. I believe in thinking twice before spending. I own no property. I live in a small, rented house, attractive but unpretentious. I think it easier to economize in a small house, there being less space in which to accumulate possessions. I employ three servants, chauffeur, cook, and personal maid, the latter for studio work.

My mother and sister live in a separate establishment, but I see them daily. My husband’s vocation, singer and pianist, necessitates that he remain in other cities a good part of the year. I spent my six weeks’ vacation with him last February in San Francisco. Other times we have gone on long motor trips when both of us had a holiday. On these occasions we preferred staying at tourist camps. I would do all the cooking and housework.

I’ve not only studied but perfected myself in a business course in case my career should end in some unforeseen way. I believe every one should have a second string to his or her bow. The plight of former “big money” stars who are working as extras, or not at all, has served as a warning.

Hollywood has given me added poundage both in flesh and money. When I arrived I weighed 112 pounds. To-day I tip the scales at 118. I have taken out a policy with Lloyds of London insuring me against reaching 121 pounds. On the other hand, if I drop to 113, I must submit to instructions and regulations as to diet, exercise, et cetera, from the insurance company.

Hollywood has given me the terrific satisfaction of having done something I wanted to do. It has given me a philosophy which amounts to a creed. Yesterday is gone and there is no tomorrow. In other words, every day is a fresh beginning. To-morrow, if it comes, will be different. What if things go wrong? What if the world seems arrayed against me? Do I have the dumps, drip with self-pity and give up in despair? I do not. I say to myself, “This, too, will pass away!” Yesterday is gone and we can’t recall it. Nothing is certain except change. I’ve learned all this in Hollywood.

 

Hollywood has taken from me all my ideals of acting.

You are silly to believe that you can have friends in Hollywood. I have three, but they are not of the professional world.

You lose all your illusions about fame and become just another worker earnestly endeavoring to do a fascinating job well.

About the worst thing Hollywood does to you is to mess up your mental storehouse with silly things that change your ideas of life and the scheme of things becomes a confused pattern.

I vowed I wouldn’t bleach my hair. I did so shortly after my arrival. I also vowed I wouldn’t wear trousers, but I did, and continue to wear them.

Before going to Hollywood I was supersensitive. It has taken that out of me, for which I am thankful.

Don’t think because it is called the land of the silver screen that all of the clouds have a silver lining.

I’ve changed. To say I haven’t would be admitting stagnation.

Things don’t come easy in Hollywood. It’s a rhythm of ups and downs, bouquets and brickbats. What is one man’s meat is another man’s poison. Fame becomes an empty fantasy, but a profitable one. You lose all your illusions about fame and become just another worker earnestly endeavoring to do a fascinating job well.

I’ve been asked to define Hollywood. I’ve looked at it with questioning eyes and thought about it, but never attempted to define it.

During my first year in the cinema capital I mussed up my thoughts by trying to analyze Hollywood. First: I decided too much importance is given to trivial things. Second: Your appearance both on and off the screen is deemed more important than a true performance.

I tested it in my first role, that of “Laura” in “Bad Sister.” She was a small-town girl, a wallflower type. I dressed her as such and what was the result? Carl Laemmle, Jr., refused to give me roles, saying I was the funniest kind of girl and as difficult to cast as Slim Summerville.

I still think you don’t have to be a good actress in Hollywood. One good gag is all you need and you’re over the top. Yes, Hollywood has robbed me of my ideals of acting. Here, the star is glorified, whereas the writer should be. He represents the brains of the business besides being the basis of the story, and the story is what counts.

Before going to Hollywood I saw “Once in a Lifetime.” I didn’t think much about it at the time, but now I am of the belief that it doesn’t even begin to tell the truth.

You’re silly to be fooled into believing that you can have friends in Hollywood. I have three, but since they are not professionals I prefer not to mention their names. It isn’t so much that picture people are undesirable. They have to be absorbed in their individual careers, and this forces them to become self-centered. 

Dangerous Press Book (Warner Brothers 1935)

 

Screen people are no different from stage people in one respect. They gloat over another’s failure. The way to play safe is to admit your faults. Pretending to criticize oneself has become one of Hollywood’s most popular pasttimes.

About the worst thing that Hollywood does to you is to mess up your mental storehouse with silly things that inadvertently change your ideas about life, and the scheme of things becomes a confused pattern. My mental mechanism has done a flip-flop. “Nothing succeeds like success” is especially true in Hollywood, and in order to succeed you have to play politics. I can’t play politics, and under no circumstances would I mix my social life with business. I’m never seen publicly with studio executives. It just isn't my policy.

I vowed on going to Hollywood that I wouldn’t bleach my hair. I did so shortly after my arrival. I also vowed I wouldn’t wear trousers, but I did, and continue to wear them. One thing I didn’t do and that was to change my name “after” I had become known on the screen. When I was a little girl I had stage ambitions and didn’t think much of my real name. One day a friend called and my name became the subject of discussion. She suggested “Bette,” Balzac’s heroine in “Cousin Bette.”

Before going to Hollywood I was supersensitive. It has taken that out of me, for which I am thankful. I used to be hurt by everything unkind and untrue that was published about me. Soon I learned that it was impossible to live three hundred and sixty-five days without being insulted by the press. I also discovered that what appears to-day is forgotten to-morrow.

The actor who complains that he can’t live his own life in Hollywood is babbling rubbish. Players complain, among other things, of being mobbed when they appear in public. What of it? So are kings and presidents, and so are freaks.

I don’t hesitate to say what I think except when asked by interviewers to discuss certain subjects—for instance, motherhood. I simply refuse.

I advise every girl or boy who aspires to become a screen player to stay away from Hollywood unless he or she has had previous stage experience. The competition is too great. Talent and beauty without experience are a total loss, and you will grow old and weary waiting for a chance. Don’t think because it’s called the land of the silver screen that all the clouds have a silver lining.

Since going to Hollywood I’ve changed. To say I haven’t would be admitting stagnation. But Hollywood has given me much more than it has taken from me.

 

Sources and Further Reading

Davis, Betty and Dorothy Wooldridge. “What Hollywood has Given Me—What it has Taken from Me.” Picture Play. (Sept. 1935): 28-29, 56-57.
https://lantern.mediahist.org/catalog/pictureplay4143stre_0690

Meares, Hadley Hall. “’Whatever I Did, I Did’: The Obstinate Life of Bette Davis.” Vanity Fair (Nov. 2020). https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2020/11/bette-davis-autobiography-feud

Sikov, Ed. Dark Victory: The Life of Bette Davis. New York: Holt, 2007.

“What the Fans Think.” Picture Play. (June 1935): 6.
https://lantern.mediahist.org/catalog/pictureplay4143stre_0416

“I Can’t Wait to be Forgotten” Hollywood Star Kay Francis Longed for Obscurity and Nearly Achieved it

You have seen Kay Francis if you, like me, watch movies from the 1930s. She is the tall, dark-haired woman wearing impossibly elegant clothes. You might not be able to recall any of her sixty film titles since none are considered essentials but she was one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. When I noticed that Turner Classic Movies would be featuring her all day on August 9, I knew I needed to know more about her to prepare for the marathon. I hope you enjoy this post. Please comment below and find previous articles on the right. To subscribe, email angela.firkus@gmail.com. Thanks for reading!

Picture Play Magazine (February 1937)

Katharine (Kay) Francis, in 1939 at the end of her contract with Warner Brothers, confided to a reporter “I can’t wait to be forgotten.” He wrote “today—one of the top stars of cinema. Tomorrow—just another woman. And here was Kay welcoming oblivion.” She intended to continue to work because she found it satisfying, but she said she was done with stardom, even the modified version she had crafted. While other stars chose marriage partners to please the studio boss, she kept her racy private life secret (but recorded in daybooks available now at Wesleyan University). Francis avoided publicity and was a notoriously bad interview. She lived in such a modest bungalow that the “homes of the stars” tour guides did not even point it out. After leaving Warner Brothers, Francis returned to the stage and also made additional movies, but she found it was difficult to get work in a Hollywood dominated by the big studios. She nearly received her wish of obscurity.

Maddox, Ben. “Glamour is a Gadget.” Picture Play Magazine (Sept. 1935): 59

Francis was born in Oklahoma City in 1905 and followed her mother into acting. She initially worked on Broadway and at studios in New York. She appeared in the Marx Brothers movie Cocoanuts (1929), which was a huge hit. By the summer of 1929 she had relocated to Hollywood and she quickly rose to the top becoming the biggest box office draw of the early 1930s. Francis portrayed strong and compassionate characters that resonated with audiences of the Great Depression. And her five foot nine inch frame displayed sleek 1930s fashion beautifully. Fan Dorothy Holcombe of Wisconsin, much preferred the escapism of a Francis film to realism and she thought everyone else did also. She wrote to Picture Play Magazine in 1935:

“After I’ve seen one of her pictures about four times I watch others’ reactions to it. I’ve seen them sigh and cry with exultation and emotion when Kay, in a long black velvet evening gown melts in the hero’s arms, her long dark hair streaming in ripply waves to her shoulders, her arms about his neck. So, down with the family life pictures!”

Holcombe also sent a description of the combined glamour and sincerity of Francis to the same magazine in 1937:

Dark divinity,

Stately grace,

Jewels and treasures,

Point Venise lace;

Beauty, refinement,

A pensive glance,

Away with cares---

A whirl with chance!

A mood of laughter,

A winning smile,

Queen of Fashion,

Inimitable style!

Picture Play Magazine (December 1935): 26

By the end of the decade Francis was the highest paid star in Hollywood and Warner Brothers was trying to get rid of her. She was still popular, but new stars (such as Bette Davis) were paid much less and bringing in more money for the bosses. If the studio fired Francis, it would have to fulfill her lucrative contract so the executives tried to get her to quit by assigning her to star in low-budget films. Francis considered suing the studio but ended up outlasting Warner Brothers, making every movie she was ordered to. Clearly by 1939 when her contract expired she was sick of the studio system. But that was fine; she had made her money and now felt free, she told a reporter, to travel and renew old friendships.

Francis kept working though. She initially kept up a frantic pace, making ten movies in the next two years. She stole the show from Carole Lombard and Cary Grant as the vengeful wife of In Name Only (1939). Ever faithful fan Dorothy Holcombe proclaimed the “Kay Francis banner still waves on high” and critics loved her portrayal. The Academy, however, failed to recognize her performance and in fact she never received an Oscar nomination. Francis took up producing to provide movie roles for herself and did not officially retire until 1952. She lived out the rest of her life quietly on the East Coast. With no acclaimed films to her credit, she was quickly forgotten. Most of her films survived and are being newly discovered by classic movie fans thanks to TCM.

 

Sources and Further Reading

Dorothy Holcombe fan letters and poem https://archive.org/details/pictureplay4547stre/page/n1087/mode/2up?view=theater
https://archive.org/details/photopla15chic/page/4/mode/2up?view=theater
https://archive.org/details/pictureplay4143stre/page/n584/mode/2up?view=theater
https://archive.org/details/pictureplay4547stre/page/n1097/mode/2up?view=theater

“Kay Francis, Pretty Poison.” You Must Remember This Podcast. July 18, 2014. http://www.youmustrememberthispodcast.com/episodes/youmustrememberthispodcastblog/follies-of-1938-chapter-2-kay-francis-pretty?rq=Francis

Kay Francis Papers. Wesleyan University. https://www.wesleyan.edu/cinema/collections/francis.html

Kear, Lynn and John Rossman. Kay Francis: A Passionate Life and Career. Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2006.

Mook, S.R. “I Can’t Wait to be Forgotten! Kay Francis Looks Ahead.” Photoplay (March 1939): 32, 72. https://archive.org/details/photoplay53chic/page/n213/mode/2up?view=theater

O’Brien, Scott. Kay Francis: “I Can’t Wait to be Forgotten.” Boalsburg, PA: BearManor Media, 2006.

Sarah Bernhardt Endeavored to Reach Every American

 

Sarah Bernhardt, 1892
Library of Congress, 2005683732

French actor Sarah Bernhardt toured the United States nine times between 1880 and 1918, crisscrossing the country to perform in towns as tiny as Shawnee, Oklahoma (population of less than 10,000--that is like Lady Gaga giving a concert in Joplin, Missouri, today!) 

Bernhardt became a superstar with her dramatic portrayal in Camille but also because of her outlandish behavior: photos of her sleeping in a coffin circulated widely. She could always fill a theater, but her ambition exceeded volume of ticket sales. She wanted everyone to experience her performance, but even constant travel could not accomplish that. Film, however, could. As the Laclede Blade informed the seven hundred residents of its Missouri town in 1912, everyone who had not had the opportunity to see “Divine Sarah” could now watch her on screen for a mere twenty-five cents. A triumph indeed!

Sarah Bernhardt, like many celebrities of the nineteenth century, obscured her origins. She was probably born in 1844 in Paris to an unwed mother. Bernhardt claimed in her autobiography that she was neglected and that a family council determined she should become an actor when she was only fifteen. She debuted on stage in 1862 and, as did many performers of the time, commenced affairs with wealthy patrons. Bernhardt gave birth to a son when she was only twenty years old but remained unmarried well into her thirties.

Sarah Bernhardt, 1880.
Library of Congress, 2005685633

Bernhardt quickly mesmerized audiences with her dramatic performances, but captivated France and the world with her large personality. She perfected a spinning death collapse and hand gestures that enabled even non-French speakers to understand the action. Bernhardt made news off stage too, moving from one theater group to another, angering managers and fellow actors. She collected animals for a private zoo, exhibited her sculptures, made provocative statements to the press, and cultivated a unique style with her frizzy red hair, natural silhouette (she refused to wear a corset), and Art Nouveau jewelry. Bernhardt wrote in her autobiography that she was amused and also bemused by her fame. “I did nothing to attract attention,” she rather disingenuously claimed. “My somewhat fantastic tastes, my paleness and thinness, my peculiar way of dressing, my scorn of fashion, my general freedom in all respects, made me a being quite apart from all others. I did not recognize the fact.”

Others obviously did and believed it was all part of her plan. She began her extensive touring schedule by traveling to London in 1879. Author Henry James saw her perform there and, while he enjoyed her acting, he informed his fellow Americans that her desire to be famous was greater even than her talent. “Sarah Bernhardt is not, to my sense, a celebrity because she is an artist. She is a celebrity because, apparently, she desires with an intensity that has rarely been equaled to be one.” He continued that “the trade of a celebrity, pure and simple, had been invented, I think, before she came to London; if it had not been, it is certain she would have discovered it.”

Sarah Bernhardt Poster, 1896
Library of Congress, 95504810

Americans soon experienced the celebrity Bernhardt for themselves, repeatedly. She often embarked on world tours and nine times included the United States in her itinerary. Bernhardt usually spent about a year traveling in the country, reaching large cities, small towns, and everything in between. Similar to aging rock stars today, she billed the final three all as “farewell tours.” Bernhardt documented her first visit to the United States in her autobiography. She described how in New York City women filled the streets near the theater with chairs to force her to leave her carriage and walk among them. The fans shook her hand, gave her flowers, and asked for her autograph. One woman tried to snip a lock of her hair but Bernhardt joked that all she had gotten was a bit of feather from her hat.

Bernhardt experienced similar ardor and aggression in the small towns and cities she visited all over the country. In 1906 she performed in three towns of Indian Territory (soon to be the state of Oklahoma): Shawnee, Oklahoma City, and Muskogee. The total population of the towns was less than fifty thousand though the area was growing quickly. Fans sold out her shows and showered her with gifts, including an Indian cradle board and handmade doll that she took back to France with her. The Topeka State Journal reported that at one stop in Oklahoma one man forced his way onto the private train and demanded to see his sister Sarah. He was removed at the next station.

Topeka State Journal, April 7, 1906.

Bernhardt continued to tour but found that by making movies she could reach even more fans and acquire a more lasting fame. Between 1900 and her death in 1923, she performed for the camera nearly a dozen times. Mostly these were short scenes from plays or footage of her in her home. In 1912, however, Americans could go to the movie theater to watch Bernhardt slowly die in Camille, her most famous production. The star was now sixty-eight years old, a great-grandmother, and hobbled by an old knee injury that would eventually result in amputation of her leg, but critics still marveled at her acting. By making this movie, she bragged she had “conquered a new world” and had achieved immortality. Residents of Laclede, Missouri, and of many other small towns that had missed out on a Bernhardt visit, flocked to the theater and must have agreed. Bernhardt is unknown by many today but you can easily find clips from her movies on YouTube. Through the medium of film, she is still reaching her American audience.

Sarah Bernhardt in Camille, 1913
Library of Congress, 2002706525

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Sources and Further Reading

Bernhardt, Sarah. My Double Life. London: William Heinemann, 1907. https://www.google.com/books/edition/My_Double_Life/5VAnwxiuxN4C?hl=en&gbpv=1

“Bernhardt Conquers New World.’” Moving Picture World. 11 (March 9, 1912): 874-875. https://archive.org/details/movingpicturewor11newy/page/874/mode/2up

“Bernhardt Rejane Photo Play.” Laclede (MO) Blade. September 20, 1912. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn89066129/1912-09-20/ed-1/seq-5/#date1=07%2F01%2F1912&sort=date&date2=01%2F01%2F1913&searchType=advanced&language=&sequence=0&index=19&words=Bernhardt+Sarah&proxdistance=5&state=&rows=20&ortext=&proxtext=%22sarah+bernhardt%22&phrasetext=Sarah+Bernhardt&andtext=&dateFilterType=range&page=

Duckett, Victoria. Seeing Sarah Bernhardt: Performance and Silent Film. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2015.

Gottleib, Robert. Sarah: The Life of Sarah Bernhardt. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010.

“Great Sarah Here.” Topeka (KS) State Journal. April 7, 1906. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn82016014/1906-04-07/ed-1/seq-11/

James, Henry. “The Comedie Francaise in London.” The Nation 29 (1879): 73.

Shirley Temple: Flying the Good Ship Lollipop to Fame

 

Shirley Temple, 1938
National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution; gift of Elsie M. Warnecke

Cottey College student Mackenzie Green is back with another post about a child star. Thanks Mac!

A woman nearly killed child star Shirley Temple in 1939. She took aim with a loaded gun while seated in the front row of the audience as Temple performed on a radio program. The woman claimed that Temple had stolen her daughter's soul and hoped that the assassination would release it. Eleven-year-old Temple continued to sing as the woman was subdued and arrested. The young star survived many threats including a crowd she remembered in Boston that “reached up to claw along my bare legs, tug at my shoes, and pull at my dress hem” showing her that “no matter its human brilliance or how remote its location, any star can be devoured by human adoration, sparkle by sparkle.”

In her autobiography she described most of the threats as more comical than serious. The FBI arrested a teenager in the Nebraska field he had directed $25,000 to be dropped in by plane. He had threatened to harm Temple but she noted that all he was carrying was a hoe. She continued that 

“a different tack was taken by a fourteen-year old girl who addressed a postcard to my mother from her little mining hometown in Pennsylvania saying, ‘Bring $320,000 to the below address if you ever want to see Shirley.’ When the FBI knocked she too readily confessed, explaining she only wanted money to buy things. It was her second extortion try. The first was her note to her grandparents, residing in the same house, demanding 10 cents.” 

Some fans thought they could fly the Good Ship Lollipop to fortune like Temple had. Shirley started to carry a slingshot and a purse filled with pebbles.

Temple joked but the adults around her took the situation seriously. The Lindbergh baby had been killed in an abduction attempt only a few years earlier. The family moved to a bigger house behind fences and protected with electronic surveillance equipment. Her film studio hired a bodyguard.

Obviously, being a young star was not all fun and games. In all ways, Shirley lacked any kind of normal childhood. Apparently she stopped believing in Santa Claus when she was six years old. Her mother had taken her to see him in a department store and he asked for her autograph. Shirley’s mother pushed her into show business at the age of three in 1931. She made forty-three movies between 1934 and 1940 and she was the top box office draw for four of those years. As a teenager, she found it much harder to land roles and her movies were not as successful. Americans hated to see the little girl with curls grow up. In 1950, at the age of twenty-two, Temple decided to give up acting.

Modern Screen, May 1946

Unlike other childhood stars, Temple does not seem to have been damaged by her early celebrity or by the threats. She wrote in her autobiography that 

"to be hoisted on laps, pinched by incredulous strangers, to occasionally get my curls tugged, to be cooed at, photographed, and quoted—all this was part of the job. Even in my more mature years, to be assessed, discussed and rumored rarely bothered me. Hem length, nail color, and physical measurements were served up willingly."

While she carried that slingshot, she remembered being fairly unmoved by threats to her safety. She felt that “neither bravado nor escape from reality were involved in my attitude. Risks had always been weighted carefully, and danger sidestepped where possible.”

As she got older she was able to attend school and have a love life. At the age of 17, Temple went against her parents and married Jack Agar, a former US Army Air Corpsman. She had a daughter, Susan before divorcing him in 1949. Then when she was on vacation, she met businessman Charles Alden Black and married him in 1950. They had two children together, Charles Jr. and Lori. They would spend 55 years together until Charles' death in 2005.

In addition to being a mother, she continued a public role. Instead of just disappearing like other child stars who retired, she became interested in politics. Temple started out just stuffing envelopes and joining the League of Women Voters, but then ran for a seat in Congress in 1967. Temple was the last to enter the race but ended up coming in second in the primary. She said she thinks she would have won if it was not for the international attention for being Shirley Temple. The media only showed the child star not Shirley Temple Black. From 1969 to 1970 she served as the US ambassador to the United Nations. Then in 1974 she became ambassador to Ghana. Then two years later she became chief of protocol of the United States and would hold this position until 1977. In 1988, Temple became an honorary U.S Foreign Service officer and would be the only person to achieve this rank. She also served as ambassador to Czechoslovakia from 1989 to 1992.

Shirley Temple Black meeting with President Gerald Ford, 1974

National Archives and Record Administration, identifier 12007107

Temple was aware that her whole adult life could have been prevented from happening by the woman back in 1938. She wrote in her autobiography: “Why the woman did not pull the trigger before being roughly seized by the two men is hers to answer and mine to bless.”

Sources and Further Reading

Black, Shirley Temple. Child Star: An Autobiography. New York: McGraw-Hill Publishing Company, 1988.

“Boy Free on Bond in Temple Threat.” Evening Star [Washington, D.C.] August 2, 1936. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045462/1936-08-02/ed-1/seq-4/#date1=1777&index=2&rows=20&searchType=advanced&language=&sequence=0&words=extortion+Extortion+Shirley+Temple&proxdistance=5&date2=1963&ortext=&proxtext=&phrasetext=shirley+temple&andtext=extortion&dateFilterType=yearRange&page=1

Kornhaber, Spencer. “Shirley Temple, the Child Star Who Wasn’t a Cautionary Tale. The Atlantic Feb. 12, 2014. https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/02/shirley-temple-the-child-star-who-wasnt-a-cautionary-tale/283747/

Miller, Bill. “Murder Shirley Temple?” The Mail Tribune June 3, 2019. https://www.mailtribune.com/lifestyle/murder-shirley-temple/

 

Thanks for reading! Comment below and find links to previous posts above to the right. To subscribe, email angela.firkus@gmail.com