Fredric March, Miriam Hopkins in All of Me
Miriam Hopkins: Allan Ellenberger Interview Intro
First of all, why Miriam Hopkins?
The films she made with Bette Davis — The Old Maid (1939) and Old Acquaintance (1943) — first attracted me to Miriam Hopkins. Also, the stories of their purported feud and Davis’ virulent comments that she spouted forth during her last days piqued my interest. Davis has always been a favorite of mine, so anyone who could incur this diva’s wrath must have something going on. I also felt that Hopkins is one of the most underrated actresses from Hollywood’s golden era. Regardless of the quality of her vehicles, she always gave an interesting performance.
When people think of the major stars of the 1930s, Miriam Hopkins’ name hardly ever pops up. Why isn’t she better remembered today?
That’s a good question. Hopkins first appeared on the Broadway stage in 1920. However, it was in the role of Sondra Finchley in the 1926 adaptation of Theodore Dreiser’s An American Tragedy that theatergoers really took notice.
It was her popularity on stage that brought her to the attention of Hollywood. Mack Sennett first tried to hire her as one of his "Bathing Beauties" in the mid-20s, but she turned him down. Finally, in 1930 Paramount signed her to make films during the day while she appeared on stage at night in Lysistrata.
Hopkins was very popular in films throughout the 1930s. During that period, in all of her films she either was the headliner or shared equal billing with her co-stars. But you have to remember that Hopkins appeared in only 35 films during her entire career, and 22 of them were made from 1930 to 1937. Because Paramount sold their library of films to Universal in the 1950s, most of her titles have not been available to the public. It’s still almost impossible to find The Story of Temple Drake (1933), for instance, except at special screenings or in a very inferior video copy that has made the rounds among collectors.
It’s sad to say, but she is mostly known for the two Davis films and many are unaware of her early work, especially for Paramount. So, she doesn’t have quite the same exposure today as Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn, or Marlene Dietrich, to name a few.
Miriam Hopkins in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Considering that Miriam Hopkins was one of the foremost performers in pre-Production Code films – Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Story of Temple Drake, The Smiling Lieutenant, Design for Living, 24 Hours, among others – why don’t film scholars give her a more exalted position in the Pantheon of classic Hollywood stars?
I believe that when those films you mentioned are discussed, she is given her due credit – at least in most of the books I’ve read so far. I think it's in regard to her overall film career and to herself as an individual performer that she lacks acknowledgment. As I mentioned previously, Hopkins' film career spanned 35 years, yet she appeared in fewer films than many of her contemporaries. This alone limits her recognition.
Miriam Hopkins in 24 Hours
Continuing with the pre-Code theme: Hopkins was a daring actress on screen. What was she like in real life?
Hopkins was daring — she was a sexually liberated woman who had numerous lovers and she was also a very complex individual.
A true Southern belle [born in Savannah, Georgia, on Oct. 18, 1902], she was petite, only five feet two inches tall, weighing 102 pounds. A sophisticate, Hopkins, who had very few actor friends, admired and sought out the company of intellectuals. Those she was closest to throughout her life were writers Theodore Dreiser, William Faulkner, Ward Morehouse, Dorothy Parker, and Tennessee Williams, just to name a few. Except for her first husband, an actor [Brandon Peters] whom she never discussed, she married two writers [Austin Parker and Raymond B. Brock] and a director [Anatole Litvak]. Most — if not all — of her love affairs were with writers, including Patrick Kearny, William Saroyan, and John Gunther.
Very well-read, she had a huge book collection, many of which were first editions. She had a volatile temper and once trashed the library of her New York home after hearing on the radio that Bette Davis had won the Oscar for Jezebel (1938). [Hopkins had originated the role of the brash Southern belle Julie on Broadway, after replacing an ailing Tallulah Bankhead.] Even though she supported her mother financially from a sense of duty, the relationship was strained.
Surprisingly very straitlaced — despite her highly erotic early screen roles — she had a lifelong aversion to obscenity. Now, she did believe in the occult and would not accept roles, move to a new home, or take long trips without consulting a psychic.
Unfortunately for a biographer, she was not sentimental. Even though she always wanted to be a writer, she never kept a diary or saved correspondence. She left no scrapbooks, but did leave an impression on those she knew and loved.
Charlotte, thanks for writing.
I've forwarded your message to Allan Ellenberger.
I would like to have contact with Allen Ellenberger, who has written about my aunt, Miriam Hopkins. Miriam and my mother were half sisters, having the same father. Miriam's mother and my grandfather divorced, and my mother and Miriam did not meet until they were grown. I do have some interesting insights and have several items that belonged to her. Unfortunately, my mother passed away several years ago, and I think her son Michael is not living, but I am not sure. Any information about him would be appreciated. I just ran across this website, and I wish I had seen it sooner.