Read High Society: Grace Kelly and Hollywood Online
Authors: Donald Spoto
Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Entertainment & Performing Arts, #Performing Arts, #Film & Video, #General
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City, meanwhile, the men at Metro still had no idea what to do with Grace. “I don’t understand all the excitement about this girl,” said an uncomprehending publicist at that studio, speaking on the record to a journalist. His opinion was obviously that of his bosses, for—even before
Rear Window
was completed—they renewed the loan-out deal with Paramount. Beginning January 4, 1954—“or on any day following completion of principal photography
of Rear Window”
—Grace was to appear in Paramount’s
The Bridges at Toko-Ri.
Metro contract player Van Johnson understood the reason for Grace’s popularity with moviegoers, studio bosses to the contrary notwithstanding: “There hasn’t been a newcomer of her thoroughbred type [for many years], as contrasted with the cuties who’ve flung themselves up any old way. The public has had so much sex pitched into its face recently that it’s gone for Kelly in rebellion against a broadside of broads.”
Hitchcock and Johnson may well have been alluding (perhaps rather unfairly) to another blonde—Marilyn Monroe, whom Twentieth Century-Fox was presenting as the epitome of the new, bold sexiness in movies, exploiting her with breathless, almost desperate speed: in 1953, Fox released three Monroe pictures
—Niagara, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
and
How to Marry a Millionaire.
Talented beyond the material she was given, Monroe was a phenomenon, presented as the antithesis of everything Grace stood for.
Film roles were one way to keep a studio’s actors in the public eye and mind. Another way to maintain their fame was through interviews and articles discreetly arranged and then published in fan magazines and national newspapers. Movie stars were commodities, after all, and they had to be properly advertised, presented and celebrated for the sake of the studio’s
financial success. Stars, as one movie historian has written, “had to be accepted by the public in terms of a certain set of personality traits which permeate all his or her film roles. The successful stars have been those whose appeal can be catalogued into a series of such traits, associations and mannerisms.” The unofficial syllabus of developing stars was the same everywhere in Hollywood: there was an initial construction of an image, a series of photographs sent to the print media, a careful presentation of the star’s background—and even a rumor of romance, as indication that the star was no bloodless mannequin. When an actor was cast in a major film, a “unit publicist” attended the entire production, supervising publicity and interviews and planting harmless and helpful tidbits in the press.
Metro exploited the fact of Grace’s wealthy family, her education and her theatrical apprenticeship, in order to suggest that she was the perfect lady of the 1950s, an era that idolized and idealized the amalgamation of prosperity, family ties and hard work to achieve the American dream. Although Grace’s image was carefully molded to appeal to a male audience, she was also presented as a respectable, white-gloved girl who could be admired by women—hence she was featured in magazines like
McCall’s, Ladies Home Journal
and
Mademoiselle.
“There’s Grace Kelly,” commented an anonymous columnist at
Vogue.
“Her gentle, fine-bred prettiness is rapidly reversing Hollywood’s idea of what’s box office.” A Metro publicist wrote that line and successfully slipped it to a
Vogue
editor.
Grace’s image was based on the generally truthful contours of her family background—her father’s achievements in business and sport, for example—and on favorable comments from colleagues. But remarks from Grace herself were rare, and when forced by the studio to give an interview, she did not divulge intimacies. Marilyn Monroe was once asked what she wore to bed, and she replied, “Chanel Number 5.” When the same question
was put to Grace, she said, “I think it’s nobody’s business what I wear to bed. A person has to keep something to herself, or your life is just a layout in a magazine.” And so it went.
There was nothing patronizing in Grace’s personality, and the aloofness that went along with her ice-maiden image was something that none of her friends and colleagues ever saw. “She was anything but cold,” said James Stewart. “Everything about Grace was appealing. She had those big warm eyes, and if you ever played a love scene with her, you’d know she wasn’t cold.” As for her professional skills, Stewart spoke for many of her leading men when he said, “You can see her thinking the way she’s supposed to think in the role. You know she’s listening, and not just for cues. Some actresses don’t think and don’t listen. You can tell they’re just counting the words.”
Terms like “lady,” “genteel,” “elegant,” “patrician” and “reserved” were most often used to describe Grace—along with puns and plays on her first name. It’s almost impossible to keep count of the number of articles, over thirty years, that were titled “Amazing Grace.”
At exactly the same time, Paramount’s publicists helped journalists with their descriptions of Audrey Hepburn, who was routinely termed “elfin” (although elves are spiteful, malignant dwarves), “gazelle-like” (despite the fact that gazelles are spotted antelopes); “coltish” (although colts are male horses); and, most often, “gamine” (which means a street urchin or a homeless waif). With Audrey and Grace, new vocabularies were needed for new styles, and the publicists pored over their dictionaries. In “real life,” if Grace or Audrey was seen in a restaurant or at a public event, there was quite literally a collective, audible intake of breath: it was the appearance of a goddess to mere mortals.
Neither Audrey Hepburn nor Grace Kelly ever acquired the sort of image that Marilyn Monroe had as the ultimately desirable playmate, available if only a guy had the chance.
Just as the public was told of Audrey’s European aristocratic background—her mother was a Dutch baroness—so Grace was presented as a kind of American noblewoman, from a “good family” that worked hard to achieve social primacy (which, in fact, they never enjoyed). Monroe, on the other hand, came from a hardscrabble background: she had been married for the first time at sixteen, and she had toiled her way to independence and fame as she became the supreme sex symbol of the decade. Suggestive remarks were composed not only for her movies, but for her to say during interviews, too.
Never mind that Marilyn Monroe was actually a woman of keen intelligence and serious purpose: she had to serve the studio’s manufactured image of her if she wanted to maintain her popularity and position. And never mind that Audrey and Grace were both healthy young women who dated, had love affairs, wore jeans, occasionally used a four-letter word and liked to balance hard work with a good time and laughter. They both exhibited a natural refinement and were unfailingly courteous to colleagues and strangers, but these qualities were presented as the sum total of their personalities. They were nothing like goddesses in person, although they were certainly beautiful, stylish and always considerate. They were women to respect, but they could never be fully defined as merely respectable—a term that alternately amused and annoyed them both.
“I never really liked Hollywood,” Grace admitted. “Oh, I liked some of the people I worked with and some friends I made there, and I was thankful for the chance to do some good work. But I found it unreal—unreal and full of men and women whose lives were confused and full of pain. To outsiders, it looked like a glamorous life, but it really was not.”
1*
Hitchcock told me that when he first met Grace he had not seen
Mogambo
or a rough cut of it: he knew only her black-and-white test for
Taxi
and (he thought on reflection) perhaps a scene or two from
High Noon.
He did not need any more than that to make the right decision.
2*
On Hitchcock’s life and art, there have been books and articles past counting, in many dozens of languages. He is unquestionably the director most often considered by biographers, academics, historians and appreciative moviegoers. Detailed but necessarily partial lists of volumes and essays about Hitchcock are included in my three books about him, which are listed here in the bibliography.
3*
There are a few very brief shots outside the set of the Wendices’ London flat—quick cuts to the local police station, to a men’s club, and to Tony and Mark riding in taxis.
4*
That summer, Hitchcock’s agent, Lew Wasserman, arranged a multi-picture deal for him at Paramount Pictures, by which Hitch would produce, direct and eventually own the rights to five films (which turned out to be
Rear Window, The Trouble with Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, Vertigo
and
Psycho)
and for Paramount to produce and own four—but the studio got only one
(To Catch a Thief).
5*
The Cassini-Kelly affair was no rumor. It was detailed in thirty-seven pages of his autobiography and was well known to Grace’s family. Her children included letters, photos and
billets doux
exchanged between their mother and Oleg Cassini among the items in the 2007 tribute to Grace at the Forum Grimaldi.
6*
In her first movie role, TV actress Eva Marie Saint won an Oscar as best supporting actress for
On the Waterfront
and began a long and busy career.
†
Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe had long-term deals with, respectively, Paramount and Fox; each was paid about $15,000 per picture for the run of the contract, although occasionally a bonus was added. Grace’s base pay was a bit higher.
7*
Work on the two movies overlapped.
Rear Window
was in production from November 29, 1953, to January 14, 1954, and
Sabrina
from September 29 to December 5, 1953.
8*
Grace also refused to smoke cigarettes in any of her pictures. When Hitchcock instructed her to light up in
Rear Window
, the camera cuts away—from the cigarette, unlighted, between her lips, then to Stewart, and finally to the lighted cigarette held for a few seconds and then stubbed out. As the saying goes, she never inhaled.
9*
Several sources state that Grace made her final appearance in a live TV play on the
Kraft Television Playhouse
episode “The Thankful Heart,” broadcast live from New York on January 6, 1954. I have been unable to reconcile this assertion with the Paramount production files, which indicate that she worked on that date on
Rear Window
, which occupied her on nine of the first twelve days of that year.
SIX
Friends and Lovers
Nothing is quite so mysterious and silent as a dark theater.
—GRACE (AS GEORGIE ELGIN) IN
THE COUNTRY GIRL
O
VER THE COURSE OF FOURTEEN MONTHS—FROM
July 1953 through August 1954—Grace Kelly completed six of the eleven films that constitute the sum of her movie career:
Dial “M” for Murder, Rear Window, The Bridges at Toko-Ri, The Country Girl, Green Fire
and
To Catch a Thief.
That was a remarkable achievement by any standard. She was energetic, ambitious and admired by her colleagues, but moving immediately from one production to the next often left her exhausted. “I realized much, much later that I had no time for myself—no time to reflect, to think about what I was doing and where I was going. I thought I had the best intentions, but of course, one always does. The pictures were made in Hollywood, South America and the South of France, but except for Sundays, I didn’t have much time off in the first eight months of 1954. Looking back, I’m not sure how I survived.”
When the columnist Hedda Hopper asked, in May of that
year, how old Grace was, she replied truthfully, “Twenty-four—and aging much too quickly.” Did Grace think an actor would make a good husband? “No, but I don’t think someone outside the business would make a good husband, either.” Would Grace be willing to give up her career for marriage? “I don’t know. I’d like to keep my career. I’ll have to wait and make that choice when the time comes. Of course I think about marriage, but my career is still the most important thing for me. If I interrupt it now to get married—because I don’t believe in a part-time family life—I would risk passing the rest of my existence wondering whether or not I would have been able to become a great actress.”