Hedy Lamarr II: Arrival in Hollywood

Hedy Lamarr in Tortilla Flat

Hedy Lamarr – Q&A with Author Patrick Agan: Part I

Do you have a favorite Hedy Lamarr film and/or performance?

As for a favorite Lamarr performance, I would have to say Tortilla Flat is right up there. Her performance as the Mexican girl, Dolores, was amazing in its simplicity and clarity, and Karl Freund's cinematography brought out an earthiness that she'd never shown before. This was a girl who knew she was beautiful, but she also knew there was much more to life than that and wasn't ready to settle for anything less than a faithful husband with a job. Hedy had to go to the front office to get that part. The chemistry between her and John Garfield is great. It was strong between her and Spencer Tracy, too, but for the wrong reason as she disliked him intensely. Whether Hedy and Garfield's characters lived happily ever after remains to be seen, but we can easily visualize Tracy's Pilon carrying on as usual, looking for a bottle of wine and a free place to drink it in.

Personally, I like Hedy as The Strange Woman where she chews up the scenery as she's chewing up co-stars Louis Hayward and George Sanders. She produced it, hired her co-stars, helped design her costumes, and even oversaw the musical score, generally running herself ragged trying to make this a hit. She learned the hard way that putting your own money on the line wasn't a good idea. Not being a major studio release [United Artists handled the distribution in the U.S.], it didn't have the theater spread that would have made it a moneymaker.

And then there are two of the movies' most famous temptresses, Tondelayo and Delilah. Hedy knew White Cargo [right] for what it was, and enjoyed her romp in the jungle. [Director] Richard Thorpe just stood back and let her go to town. Hedy's biggest complaint was that she practiced her sexy dance all summer long and then it was mostly cut out by the censors.

Samson and Delilah was Hedy's high water mark, giving her the superstardom she'd long deserved, plus [it was] in Technicolor. Mayer was nuts not to have put her in a color picture, although he did have one planned, Quo Vadis, which was cancelled by the war. Hedy was to play the slave girl Eunice, which was later played by Marina Berti [in the 1951 MGM release, starring Robert Taylor and Deborah Kerr. Samson and Delilah was made at Paramount. By that time, Lamarr was no longer under contract to MGM.] It would have been a revelation for Hedy, as she exploded in color, but it took [director Cecil B.] DeMille to make that happen. The results were a breathtaking success as we all know, even out-grossing Gone with the Wind for a time. Hedy knew it was crucial for her and devoted herself to it. DeMille understood pampered beauties, since he'd practically invented them so he knew just how to tease, cajole, and encourage a terrific performance out of her.

I also think she was equally matched with Bob Hope in 1951's My Favorite Spy. She combined sex appeal and slapstick in what was, oddly, her last major movie. DeMille wanted her for The Greatest Show on Earth, but Betty Hutton got that part as Hedy decided it was just too physical for her, and, she'd laugh, "all that dirt and noise and exercise. I said no." Hutton claims she was the only one ever considered for the part, but I have proof to the contrary. In a strange way, Betty's lucky. As the only survivor she gets to rewrite history any way she wants to.

And finally, I think she's terrific in 1957's The Female Animal, bringing a perfect poignancy at age 44 to aging movie star [Vanessa Windsor]. Like many an actress of her age, Hedy's Vanessa had a habit of falling for the wrong man, in this case movie extra George Nader. Throw in Jane Powell as her adopted daughter and you have quite a stew of emotions. Hedy limned the responsibilities of the forties-into-fifties star perfectly, especially in the scene where she wants to announce her engagement to Nader and has to decide who to give it to, [gossip columnist] Hedda Hopper or Louella Parsons. Like Scarlett at the barbecue choosing who's to get her dessert, she pauses and says "this
story, I think this should go to … Hedda" — odd, considering that Hedda, unlike Parsons, had never been much of a Lamarr supporter. Sadly, Universal chopped it up and Hedy disowned [The Female Animal]. A flop but, seen today, a fascinating one.

Hedy Lamarr, Judy Garland, Lana Turner in Ziegfeld Girl

What was Hedy Lamarr's relationship with MGM mogul Louis B. Mayer like? Mayer was the one who brought her into the MGM stable, but once Lamarr was in, Mayer didn't seem to know what to do with her.

First of all, L. B. Mayer had never met a lady like Hedy. Though notorious for her ten minutes of on-screen nudity [in Ecstasy], she was nonetheless from the Jewish aristocracy of Vienna and, despite her conversion to Catholicism, was a woman well out of his class. He was used to fashioning stars out of chorus girls and shopkeeper's daughters — and the occasional Swedish shampoo girl — but he rarely got his hands on an opinionated upper-class lady. He loved the idea he was getting an international star for only $500 a week, but once he got home he was at a loss.

(By the way, Hedy [whose real name was Hedwig Kiesler] always took credit for her new last name, Lamarr, "la mer, the sea." It was on a list that Mayer and his brain trust came up with on the Normandie, but she said she made the final decision.) [Mayer was a huge fan of exotic, dark-haired, silent-screen siren Barbara La Marr. La Marr, who led an unhappy life, died at age 29 in 1926.]

Hollywood was a comedown for Hedy after the life she'd lived in Europe, and Mayer was intimidated by that. He didn't know how to handle her either personally or professionally, especially when she began haunting his office demanding a script. After meeting her fellow female stars, and her initial walk down the length of Mayer's imperial office, she was sent home with little more than promises. L. B.'s secretary, Ida Koverman, became both her supporter and friend, probably because Hedy was bombarding her bosses' office with phone calls and Ida recognized there was something to Hedy that her boss had yet to recognize.

At the same time Hedy was looking for a part, the [censor at the] Hays Office was declaiming Ecstasy [above] as a "story of illicit love and frustrated sex" whose only purpose was to "arouse lustful feelings in those who see it." What a quandary Mayer was in! Stashing her away in Beverly Hills with [Budapest-born] Ilona Massey so they could learn English together proved a bad idea. Ilona quickly got [a supporting role in the 1937 Eleanor Powell vehicle] Rosalie, while Hedy fumed.

I think part of Mayer's problem about Hedy was that she was out of place in the climate of 1938. European sex symbols were box-office poison and here he was trying to launch one, renaming her after a tragic silent movie star to boot. Plus, he was very interested in her but she wasn't about to play the doting daughter as other women did.

After a number of screen tests, L. B. loaned her to Walter Wanger for Algiers and the rest is history. Mayer not only shut her up, but he made money on the deal as well. She came back to the MGM lot as the most publicized movie star in the world, but he still didn't know what to do with her. An American Cinderella was his answer — and that was a disaster despite Mayer's obsessive interest in it.

He hired Josef von Sternberg, Dietrich's Svengali, to direct Cinderella, now called I Take This Woman, but that quickly proved to be a mistake. Mayer's movie factory was not a place where von Sternberg could leisurely shine, plus Mayer was insistent on advising von Sternberg on his "Hedy Lamarr picture" and this made the whole thing a disaster. Also, Mayer had assigned Spencer Tracy as Hedy's co-star and their lack of chemistry was immediately apparent. After two weeks there were only a couple of Hedy's close-ups that were salvageable. Von Sternberg was fired and Frank Borzage took over, but after a long and expensive production the picture was shut down to the tune of $800,000.

Before I Take This Woman was resumed, Hedy was in Lady of the Tropics but as good as it was, it didn't match Mayer's expectations and he thought of putting her in the ensemble cast of The Women, most likely in the Paulette Goddard part. Perhaps that would have been a good idea, as Hedy's sense of on-screen humor could have been exposed before Comrade X.