Audrey and Holly are both such wonderful girls

In one of the interviews Lawrence Grobel conducted with writer Truman Capote between July 1982 and August 1984, as recorded in Grobel's book Conversations with Capote (1985), Capote said that Breakfast At Tiffany's (1961) was "the most miscast film [he had] ever seen." Capote, who had written the 1958 novella on which the film is loosely based, further said:

It made me want to throw up… And although I’m very fond of Audrey Hepburn, she’s an extremely good friend of mine, I was shocked and terribly annoyed when she was cast in that part. It was high treachery on the part of the producers. They didn’t do a single thing they promised. I had lots of offers for that book, from practically everybody, and I sold it to this group at Paramount because they promised things, they made a list of everything, and they didn’t keep a single one. The day I signed the contract they turned around and did exactly the reverse. They got a lousy director like Blake Edwards, who I could spit on!

Capote's choice for the part of Holly Golightly had always been Marilyn Monroe, who was also a good friend of his ("Holly had to have something touching about her... unfinished. Marilyn had that."). Capote said that Marilyn had really wanted the role, so much even "that she worked up two whole scenes all by herself and did them for [him]."

While Capote felt betrayed by the studio's decision to give the role to Audrey, it must be noted that the role had been offered to Marilyn first. Marilyn's drama coach Paula Strasberg, however, felt the part of a call girl was wrong for Marilyn and thus Marilyn declined. When Audrey was asked for the role, she wasn't eager to play it initially, also considering herself unsuited for it. It was director Blake Edwards who eventually convinced her to accept. (In the end, it proved to be Audrey's most iconic performance, for which she also received an Oscar nomination.)

Photo booth pictures of Truman Capote, Audrey Hepburn and Mel Ferrer in New York City, taken around 1956.

In the spring of 1960, it was announced that Audrey had been cast as Holly Golightly, with the shooting of Breakfast At Tiffany's to start in September of that year. On 17 July Audrey gave birth to her first child, son Sean by her first husband Mel Ferrer. To congratulate her on the birth of her son, Capote wrote Audrey the following letter from Spain where he was working on a new book. In the letter he also told her how pleased he was that she was going to do Tiffany's. Capote's words are in sharp contrast to his later statements about Audrey being totally wrong for the part. It's unclear whether his remark in the letter was a white lie (not wishing to burst his friend's happy bubble after she just had a baby?) or if he was simply less opposed to Audrey playing Holly than he would later claim. At any rate, this is not the only instance when Capote had expressed himself positively about Audrey regarding Tiffany's. At one point he had also said: "Audrey was not what I had in mind when I wrote that part, although she did a terrific job." (Indeed she did!)

Incidentally, Capote closes his letter with "Mille Tendresse", the last words Holly wrote to Fred in the novella. 

Source: Christie's

Transcript:

"AZ-ZAHARA"

PLAYA DE ARO

COSTA BRAVA,

Spain

23 July 1960

Dearest Audrey,

With two such parents, I'm sure it must be a most beautiful little boy, wicked-eyed but kindly natured. My life-long blessings on the three of you.

May I say, too, how pleased I am that you are doing "B.ATT." I have no opinion of the film script [written by George Axelrod], never having had the opportunity to read it. But since Audrey and Holly are both such wonderful girls, I feel nothing can defeat either of them.

I am spending the summer here (until end of Oct.), and then going somewhere in Switzerland- the point being that I am working on a new book, and plan to stay abroad until I've finished it.

Please give my love to Mel.

Mille Tendresse, 

Truman

Never not dare to hang yourself

Bette Davis said that the best professional advice she had ever received came from Charles Laughton. Laughton, an actor Bette greatly admired but with whom she had never worked (to her enormous regret), visited her one day on the set of The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939). It was the first time the two had ever met. That day Laughton would give Bette a piece of advice which she treasured for the rest of her career. 

On 9 April 1972, at the request of a journalist, Bette described in a letter Laughton's visit to the set and the advice he gave her. As can be seen from the hotel stationery she used, Bette was writing from Rome where she was probably filming Lo Scopone Scientifico (1973).

Source: RR Auction

Transcript:

April 9, 1972

Dear Mr. Letters (?),

I hope the enclosed will be a satisfactory answer to your request.

I'm sorry it has taken so long to answer you. I came to work here very suddenly and some of my mail has just reached me.

Thank you for including me in your book. If you do.

Most sincerely,

Bette Davis

Will you send me a copy to o.k.

Will be here another month

During the filming of "Elizabeth and Essex" Charles Laughton visited the set one day. The best advice professionally came from him that day. As he played my professional father, Henry the Eighth, I said "Hello papa." I told him I had my "nerve" playing his daughter at sixty years old. I was at the time thirty, myself. He replied "Never [not] dare to hang yourself." In other words attempt parts that you feel are beyond your capability. That is the only way for an actor to improve his work.

Bette Davis

Bette Davis as Queen Elizabeth I in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939) and Charles Laughton as her "father" King Henry VIII in The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933).

Most of my pleasures today are vicarious

In the winter of 1959, Billy Wilder was on location in New York City shooting the exteriors for his film The Apartment (1960). While staying near the United Nations Headquarters, he got the idea to make a Cold War satire involving the U.N. and the Marx Brothers. Groucho Marx liked the idea and Wilder then wrote a 40-page treatment with writing buddy I.A.L. Diamond and gave the film the title A Day At The United Nations. The Marx Brothers were to play robbers who, after stealing suitcases full of diamonds from Tiffany's, are mistaken for the UN's Latvian delegation (read in detail here). 

The making of A Day At The United Nations was officially announced in the press in November 1960 but unfortunately the film never saw the light of day. Harpo suffered a heart attack and Chico died shortly thereafter, ruling out the possibility of another Marx Brothers film ever being made. Wilder did make his Cold War comedy eventually, i.e. One, Two, Three (1961) starring James Cagney.

In Cameron Crowe's Conversations with Wilder (1999), Wilder talked about the Marx Brothers and their aborted project. (Interestingly, in this interview Wilder mentions Zeppo as one of the four Marx Brothers to appear in the film, while Zeppo had already left the act in 1933.)

We had an idea of doing a Marx Brothers picture set against the background of the United Nations. They were the four representatives of a republic. And that is always good, because the Marx Brothers were at their best against a very serious, pompous background. They were very good in A Night at the Opera because it’s very pompous, the opera. They were also quite good at the race track in Day at the Races. But other things they did, they were not so good because there was nothing good to poke at. I wanted to do a Marx Brothers picture, but then Chico died, and Harpo was very, very unstable. But Groucho was a genius, absolutely a fabulous, fabulous man. They were at Metro. The movie would have been a combination of at least six of their top stars of the early sixties. Zeppo was the leading man. Zeppo as lead was incredible, absolutely incredible. When you went to see A Night at the Opera, you were not disappointed. [Irving] Thalberg was very smart, you know, because he treated it like a serious picture. [via]

And now the letter! Groucho Marx wrote to Billy Wilder on 13 December 1960 —in his typical Groucho way— with the last paragraph of his letter briefly touching upon the subject of their proposed film. (The rest of the letter mostly speaks of Groucho and Wilder exchanging newspaper articles and letters from esteemed screenwriter Nunnally Johnson.)

Source: icollector.com

All the Chaplins and their ilk must be dealt with

On 18 September 1952, Charles Chaplin left the USA for Britain to embark on a tour promoting his latest film Limelight. The next day, Attorney General James McGranery revoked Chaplin's reentry permit, thus banning him from the USA, the country which had been Chaplin's home for nearly forty years. McGranery made his decision after consulting FBI's J. Edgar Hoover, who had been building a file on Chaplin since 1922. It was announced that Chaplin's reentry permit had been rescinded because he "[had] been publicly charged with being a member of the Communist Party, with grave moral charges* and with making statements that would indicate a leering, sneering attitude toward a country whose hospitality [had] enriched him". Before being allowed back into the USA, Chaplin, who was British and had never sought American citizenship, had to appear before the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service) and answer questions about his political views and moral behaviour. In the end, Chaplin never applied for reentry and remained in Europe (in Switzerland) for the rest of his life. 

*Apart from being accused of political subversion, Chaplin was also accused of being morally subversive. With the "grave moral charges" McGranery referred to material in the FBI file concerning Chaplin's affair with actress Joan Barry, which occurred in the 1940s. 

Above: Charlie Chaplin photographed by Alfred Eisenstaedt. Below: Chaplin and Buster Keaton in a scene from Limelight, the only film in which these icons appeared together. 

The revocation of Chaplin's reentry permit made headlines and especially conservative journalists were having a field day with the news. One of them was famed gossip columnist Hedda Hopper who had actively campaigned against Chaplin for years. In her column she said that while Chaplin may be a good actor it "doesn't give him the right to go against our customs, to abhor everything we stand for, to throw our hospitality back in our faces [...] I've known him for years. I abhor what he stands for, while I admire his talents as an actor. I would like to say, 'Good riddance to bad company'." (This vicious attack from Hopper was one of the "worst press lashings" Chaplin had ever received, according to Charles Maland, one of Chaplin's biographers.)

The American Legion, one of Hopper's allies and a very powerful organisation with 2.5 million members, went even further and passed a resolution in October 1952, calling on film theaters not to show any of Chaplin's films and in particular to boycott his newest film Limelight. Limelight was subsequently picketed in New York, and theaters in Los Angeles and also in other cities succumbed to the Legion's pressure and cancelled the film's screenings. The Legion also approached United Artists, the distributor of the film, urging them to join "in this drive to rid our country of the likes of Charles Chaplin, his person and his films" (see the disturbing letter below). In their fight against Chaplin, the Legion received support from Ward Bond, president of The Motion Picture Alliance for the Preservation of American Ideals, and RKO boss Howard Hughes.

The actions of the American Legion eventually paid off. Limelight played in approximately 150 of the 2,000 theaters in which it was initially booked and consequently Chaplin withdrew the film from circulation. It wasn't until 1972 that Limelight was rereleased in the USA. 

In April 1972, after a period of twenty years, Chaplin returned to the USA to receive an Honorary Oscar for his work (watch a very emotional Chaplin here, being given a 12-minute standing ovation, the longest in Oscar history). At the Oscar ceremony the following year, an absent Chaplin was awarded his only competitive Oscar for Best Original Dramatic Score for Limelight, a score which he co-wrote with Ray Rasch and Larry Russell. As Limelight was not released in Los Angeles until 1972, it was then eligible for Oscars despite being a 20-year-old film.

Source: Discovering Chaplin

Transcript:

February 11, 1953

United Artists Corporation

302 North 13th Street 

Philadelphia, Pa.

Dear sirs:

I have this day been informed that the World Theatre, this City, will discontinue the Charles Chaplin film "Limelight" immediately.

The American Legion in the spirit of true Americanism calls on you as the distributor agency of the film to discontinue distribution of "Limelight" and follow the lead of the local World Theater and Grauman's Chinese, the Downtown and El Rey Theatres in Los Angeles, California.

Howard Hughes of RKO has stated: "I have been making a most concerted effort to persuade the management of the theater corporation to take the necessary legal measures to cancel all bookings of "Limelight"." The same opposition to the film has been taken by actor Ward Bond as president of the Motion Picture Alliance for the Preservation of American Ideals.

A recent radio poll in Philadelphia has disclosed overwhelming opposition to the picture.

Charles Chaplin by his repeated un-American behavior through the years has spurned the good will of the American people who must answer him in kind. His disrespect for our country and its ideals and his active sponsorship and affection for foreign isms inimical to the United States makes it imperative that we display our objection by refusing to patronize any of his productions.

The American Legion requests all right thinking and loyal Americans to join in this crusade. All the Chaplins and their ilk must be dealt with- and that dealing, in spite of their stand, will be fair and just.

We call on United Artists Corporation to join the World Theatre, the Fox theatres in California, Mr. Ward Bond, Mr. Howard Hughes, the American Legion and all Americans in this drive to rid our country of the likes of Charles Chaplin, his person and his films.

Very truly yours,

(signed)

Joseph A.C Girone

Phila. County Commander

The American Legion

Source

Clarence Sinclair Bull, Master Portrait Photographer

During Hollywood's Golden Age stars were created by the film studios, with portrait photography playing an essential part in the starmaking process. The portraits taken of the stars were used to promote them and advertise their upcoming films in newspapers and fan magazines. The man who is probably most associated with the Hollywood portrait photography —along with the renowned George Hurrell — is Clarence Sinclair Bull, best known as the man who shot Greta Garbo.

In 1918, 22-year-old Bull arrived in Hollywood and worked for several film studios as assistant cameraman and part-time stills photographer. He was hired in 1920 by Samuel Goldwyn to take publicity stills of Metro stars. After Metro Pictures became Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in 1924, Bull was appointed chief of MGM’s stills department and held that position until his retirement in 1961.

Besides his management tasks, Bull continued to take portraits of the MGM stars. Of all the stars he had photographed — Bull had estimated the number to be at least 10,000 throughout his career— Greta Garbo was his most photographed subject. Bull had taken over 4,000 individual studies of her during the time they worked together, often using innovative lighting techniques (e.g. some of his dramatic close-ups of Garbo were shot by illuminating her face through the glow of a kerosene lamp). Bull became Garbo's personal photographer as she didn't want to be photographed by anyone else. (In 1930, a then unknown photographer by the name of George Hurrell was hired to shoot Garbo's portraits for the film Romance. He drove her crazy and after two shots she fled the room, later saying of Hurrell: "He was a twittery artistic type. He started hopping around and crawling on the studio floor looking for 'angles'.")

Not only Garbo but also many other stars loved working with Bull. He had a quiet professional manner and quickly succeeded in making his subjects feel at ease. As Bull had worked for MGM his entire career, he became familiar with the studio's stars and maintained both a personal and professional relationship with several of them, including Clark Gable and Johnny Weissmuller. 

While the 1930s were Bull's most productive years, the 1940s and 1950s saw him photograph a whole new generation of stars, including Ava Gardner, Elizabeth Taylor and Grace Kelly. From the late 1940s Bull started to work extensively in colour, after having first experimented with colour photography in the 1930s (his first colour portrait of Garbo dating back to 1936). Bull eventually retired from MGM in 1961. In the late 1970s, he started to work on a limited edition portfolio of his Garbo prints, in collaboration with film historian and collector John Kobal. Before the project was completed, however, Bull died of a heart attack on 8 June 1979, 83 years old.

Just three of the numerous iconic photos taken of Greta Garbo by the great Clarence Sinclair Bull.

Top row, from left to right: Loretta Young, Gary Cooper and Joan Crawford; middle row: Clark Gable, Norma Shearer and Robert Taylor; bottom row: Hedy Lamarr, Fred Astaire and Katharine Hepburn.

Ava Gardner and C.S. Bull in 1945 on the set of The Killers.

One of the many MGM stars who had been photographed by Bull was Gene Kelly. In a letter to a Fred Schmidt dated 8 May 1979, Kelly remembers Bull, describing him as a "real artist" and a "fine gentleman". 

 

Transcript:

May 8, 1979

Fred Schmidt
138 Joralemon Street
Brooklyn Heights, N.Y. 11201

Dear Mr. Schmidt:

I remember Clarence Bull with great fondness, and although I only saw him while doing portraits at the end of each film I completed at M.G.M., I recall vividly his great patience with all of us spoiled actors who had been photographed so many times candidly on the set and tried every trick to get Mr. Bull to hurry through his sittings. They were generally done on our free days. His calmness and almost paternal-like treatment of us would invariably get cooperation and he would always end up making the ones who needed it look better than they were. Clarence Bull was a real artist and very importantly, a fine gentleman.

And needless to say, an important factor in the success of presenting Metro films.

Sincerely yours,

('signed Gene Kelly')

Gene Kelly  

Source: liveauctioneers

Gene Kelly photographed by C.S. Bull

You must be told how shamelessly little I have to offer

Orson Welles and Joseph Cotten met in 1934, became good friends and ultimately worked together on a number of films, including Citizen Kane (1941), The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) and The Third Man (1949). In the summer of 1966, Welles was casting his forthcoming film The Immortal Story (1968) and, eager to work with Cotten again, asked his friend to participate. (Renowned French actress Jeanne Moreau, who had worked with Welles on The Trial (1962) and Chimes at Midnight (1965), had already agreed to star in the film.) 

Apparently Cotten wasn't very enthusiastic after reading the script, after which Welles tried to persuade him through a letter (seen below), even though he had very little to offer his friend ("If you should be tempted to comfort me by agreeing to this, you should realize that you’d be trapping yourself into ten day’s hard work for almost no money"). Cotten eventually declined and accepted a part in Norman Foster's Brighty of the Grand Canyon (1966). Welles had presumably wanted Cotten to play the role of head clerk Elishama Levinsky, a role that eventually went to Roger Coggio. In the end, Welles and Cotten never worked together again.

The Immortal Story, which runs just under an hour, is based on a short story by Karen Blixen and was first broadcast on French television, followed by a theatrical release in France and the US. It is the only colour film Welles ever made. Welles disliked colour cinematography, but he received financing for his project from the Organisation Radio-Télévision Française and part of the deal was that he would shoot the film in colour. (The colour cinematography by Belgian cinematographer Willy Kurant is, I think, one of the film's biggest assets, along with the captivating presence of Jeanne Moreau and Welles' clever use of Erik Satie's beautiful piano pieces.)

Source: Heritage Auctions

Above: Roger Coggio in the role of head clerk Elishama Levinsky (a role initially meant for Joseph Cotten), with Jeanne Moreau in the background; Welles himself played Levinsky's master, the rich merchant Mr. Clay. Below: Welles and Moreau on the set of The Immortal Story.

Dear "Millie" Monroe

The wonderful Filmoteca in my city of residence Barcelona currently holds a Marilyn Monroe photo exhibition entitled Marilyn Monroe by Milton H. Greene. The 50 sessions, which my sister and I visited last Saturday. While Marilyn has been photographed by a number of renowned photographers including Cecil Beaton, Richard Avedon and Eve Arnold, she had a special bond with Milton Greene. The two were not just close friends but for a while also business partners. (In 1956, they formed Marilyn Monroe Productions which produced Bus Stop (1956) and The Prince and the Showgirl (1957).) Of the nearly 4,000 photos taken between 1953 and 1957 during 50 sittings Marilyn and Greene did together, the Filmoteca displays a selection of 84 photos, showing an intimate Marilyn away from the spotlight. It's an exhibit I really enjoyed, especially since many of Greene's wonderful photos were unknown to me. (For those few readers who live in Barcelona, the exhibit still runs until 21 February and admission is free.)

Apart from the photo exhibit, the Filmoteca dedicated a retrospective to Marilyn last month with the screening of ten of her films. I was most looking forward to watching The Misfits (1961) as I had never seen it before. The film is terribly bleak and sad but I loved it and seeing it on the big screen made the experience all the more special. While all the players were excellent, it was Marilyn in particular who moved me, her raw and fragile performance at times showing us glimpses of the real her.

Concluding this post, I will leave you with some of the photos displayed at the Filmoteca exhibit, followed by a note written during the filming of The Misfits by the inimitable Thelma Ritter, one of Marilyn's co-stars. The note, dated 29 August 1960, was addressed to Marilyn and seemingly the women had gotten along during production, even sharing some inside jokes.

May 1954 — Milton Greene and Marilyn at a horse ranch in Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles.

March 1956 —One of my favourite photos from the exhibit. Marilyn photographed during a break while filming Bus Stop in Phoenix, Arizona.

Marilyn cooling off in the swimming pool of composer Richard Rodgers on a hot summer's day in June 1955.

May 1954 — One of the photos from the Peasant Sitting series. Marilyn photographed in the costume that Jennifer Jones wore in The Song of Bernadette (1943).

Marilyn photographed at the home of 20th Century-Fox executive Joseph Schenck in 1953.

Marilyn pictured with Greene's son Joshua during a break from Bus Stop in the spring of 1956.

August 29, 1960

Dear "Millie" Monroe:

I no sooner opened the box than that damned lizard escaped.

I spent all day looking for him, and finally found him under the refrigerator with the quarter in his mouth making like a slot machine.

Incidentally, the bag is beautiful. And I thank you very much. But it doesn't take you off the hook with regard to the "honor system".

Big Brother is watching you.

Keep your eye on Paula, May, Hazel, Agnes, and Shirley.

[on the other side, not shown in the image] 

Love to you, and all the very best for the rest of the picture.

T. Ritter

Source: Bonhams

Howard, Howard, Howard - could it be I love you a little?

Apart from competing for film roles and the attention of their mother, sisters Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine also competed for men. Olivia was the first to date actor Brian Aherne but it was Joan who eventually married him (the couple was married from 1939 until 1945). Besides Aherne, both sisters were involved with eccentric billionaire Howard Hughes, which complicated their relationship even more.

Olivia was also the first to date Hughes. But while she was dating him, Hughes proposed to her sister. At a surprise party given in Joan's honour shortly before her wedding to Aherne, Hughes proposed to Joan on the dance floor, telling her it was a mistake to marry Aherne. In her autobiography No Bed of Roses (1978), Joan recalled:

I was shocked. Olivia had been seeing him steadily. I knew her feelings for him were intense, that the relative tranquility at Nella Vista now rested upon the frequency of his telephone calls. No one two-timed my sister, whatever our domestic quarrels might be. Not if I could help it. I had heard rumors that Howard saw girls in shifts (no pun intended). Olivia was on the early shift, while actresses such as [Katharine] Hepburn and [Ginger] Rogers were rumored to have later dates with him. Howard evidently needed very little sleep.

As I was leaving the nightclub with Olivia, Hughes slipped me his private telephone number, whispering that I was to call him as soon as possible. The next day I phoned him and arranged to meet him that afternoon. I had to find out whether he was serious or indulging in some ghoulish jest. [...] He seemed in deadly earnest and had not changed his mind from the previous evening. I, seething inside at his disloyalty to Olivia, said nothing.

Upon returning to Nella Vista, I showed Olivia the slip of paper with Howard's private number written in his own handwriting and told her about my afternoon's encounter. I gently tried to explain that her heart belonged to a heel. In addition to the rumors in newspaper columns, the warnings from her friends, now she had real proof. Sparks flew. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned ... especially in favor of her sister. This, plus my engagement to Brian, was very hard for her to take. 

 Joan, Olivia and Joan's husband Brian Aherne are having tea in the early 1940s.

While the relationship between Olivia and Howard Hughes ended, Hughes would ask Joan to marry him two more times, i.e. first after her divorce from Aherne and next when Hughes became her boss at RKO as she was divorcing producer William Dozier. On both occasions Joan again rejected him. In her autobiography Joan said she was never in love with Hughes and never had an affair with him. She felt he had "no humor, no gaiety, no sense of joy" and everything with him "seemed to be a "deal", a business arrangement." Still, judging by some of the letters Joan had written Hughes in 1949, she seemed to have been under his spell more than she would let on in her memoir. 

Seen below are three of Joan's letters, two in full and the third letter in part. The first two letters were written in Italy where in the summer of 1949 exteriors for the film September Affair (1950) were shot. After her film duties in Italy and seeing the sights there, Joan took a trip to Cyprus from where she wrote the third letter. In particular the last two letters show Joan's obvious adoration for Hughes. Ultimately, however, she realised there was no future for them unless she was willing to share him with his "6900 gals". (At the time of writing these letters, Joan was in the middle of her divorce from Dozier, a divorce which would not be finalised until 1951.) 

Transcript:

Saturday.

Hello:

I hated our telephone conversation in every way. You were so right to warn me how lousy connections were and all we seemed to do was say "hello, hello, can you hear me?" Wedged into that went something about whether I'd been on a binge or was someone in my room! Really, you are the most hopelessly suspicious guy. Why are you like that? 

You want to trust someone, then you defy her to be anything but honest with you. I simply couldn't live like that and I see only real, terrifying unhappiness for you. Hell! What a dog's life you lead without your trying to make it worse. 

I've just begun to live, I realize. The Italians have a superb philosophy which we might well adopt. They're all so happy— no psychiatrists in the country for the Italians are better intergrated [sic] than any people I've yet seen. Sure —  they have little ambition and their children run in ragged, filthy clothes about the streets — but they are enjoying life as few of us Americans know how.

Why are we all so ambitious, so intent on emphasising all our assets, talent, social position —all— and we ruin our health and never enjoy our life for one moment.

I am resolved to live a different life upon my return, by golly. I've roped myself down so many years during which I have had few moments of real happiness or real pleasure. I intend to be very selfish from now on and think of pleasing Joan for a change. Maybe I can teach you a little sense in the process.

Be a nice boy — stop quarrelling with me — it's such a waste of valuable time.

Will cable you next week when I know definitely what my plans will be.

Joan

Transcript:

Saturday Sept 2nd

Howard dear:

You've got me scared again! This time I loved our telephone conversation and every word was very clear - especially the "come home" part of it! 

That's all very well, you spoiled boy - but what happens to Joan? I see it quite clearly - I come home - empty house, divided friends, no "occupational theopathy" until "September" [the film September Affair] starts about Nov. 1st. I can't be seen with you, let's face it. You've got a lousy reputation - mebbe good for you but not the girls. No one would believe I wasn't one of your 6900 gals and there's no way to prove I'm not. (Bill does not believe I'm not one of them either, by the way.) 

So, then what happens? I stay home waiting all hours for you to telephone to say you got tied up and can't come over this evening? And this I do night after night like Olivia until you get bored with me or I go to the looney-bin? No, no, no - you've got the wrong girl, or rather - you just ain't got her at all. 

I do adore you - but I just can't see how it can work. Strangely enough, though I scarcely know you, I miss you- or perhaps I just can't bear being alone and I have to have someone to love. At any rate, I'm going to try to enjoy the remainder of this so-called holiday and leave tomorrow for, at this moment, an unknown destination.

Venice was so beautiful I could hardly bear it. The festival is the most ridiculous farce imaginable due to the fact they can't get enough good films to show + therefore must give awards to those they have. Selznick + Litvak brought theirs so they were a cinch to win - though Joe's performance in "Jenny" [sic] hardly warrants anything. The city was crawling with people we know so it was rather like an inundated Hollywood and Vine. The city itself is the most fabulous I've ever seen, however, fairly beyond the realm of possibility!

Do hope your 4 days' vacation did all the right things for you. Rupert Burns c/o Shell Oil, Nicosia, Cyprus will be my next address. Should reach there between Aug. 8th + 12th.

Just the same.

Joan

This is the last part of one of Joan's other letters, written on 11 September 1949 from Cyprus.

Transcript:

Darling Howard - either you should be with me or out of my life entirely - I DREAM of you every night - almost. I see you many times a day in other people - something about their walk or expression - something sometimes, when someone glowers at me - it's exactly like you!! 

I DREAD returning to California and probably would remain in Sicily for the rest of my life- but I miss you - I'm not just a little intrigued by you - and I desperately need a little bit of comfort and a soft shoulder to lean on. Have I at least one shoulder of yours?

Bill now writes me short cryptic notes when he forwards my mail - why can't people be nicer about these things? 

And look you - isn't this letter-writing a bit one-sided? Don't you think you could take the time to pen me just one postcard? Funny fellow- wish you were here or I were there right this very minute.

Hope you're so damned busy you haven't time to see all those gals every night - but not too busy so that you don't think of me just occasionally. 

Howard, Howard, Howard - could it be I love you a little?

Joan

Note

The Venice Film Festival, mentioned in the second letter, held its 10th annual edition from 11 August until 1 September 1949. Joan mentions David Selznick, producer of Portrait of Jennie (1948), and Jennie's leading man Joseph Cotten who received the Best Actor Award for his performance (a performance apparently not to Joan's liking). Joan also mentions director Anatole Litvak, whose film The Snake Pit (1948) won the International Award. Interestingly, she doesn't say anything about her sister Olivia who was awarded the prize for Best Actress for The Snake Pit. (Incidentally, the date on the letter is "Saturday September 2nd", but Joan had mistaken either the day or the date as 2 September 1949 was on a Friday. Also, Joan said she would reach Cyprus "between Aug. 8th + 12th", but that of course should be September.)

Source of the letters: icollector.com

I am your same solid true friend no matter what you ever do

For the film adaptation of his 1940 acclaimed novel For Whom the Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemingway wanted Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman to play the lead roles. The author was a good friend of Cooper's but didn't meet Bergman until January 1941 at Jack's Restaurant in San Francisco. During lunch they discussed the possibility of Bergman portraying the Spanish Maria, a part she really wanted to play. Being a Nordic, however, Bergman was concerned that she wouldn't be right for the role. Hemingway immediately told her not to worry and afterwards gave her a copy of his novel with the inscription: "For Ingrid Bergman, who is the Maria of this story". (For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943) was eventually made with Cooper and Bergman in the leads, like Hemingway wanted, and was directed by Sam Wood.)

Life magazine was invited to take photos of the first meeting between Ingrid Bergman and Ernest Hemingway in January 1941—above at Jack's Restaurant and below at St. Francis Hotel.

Bergman and Hemingway eventually became close friends. Hemingway was one of the people who had supported Bergman during one of the most difficult periods of her life. In 1949, the actress started an affair with Italian filmmaker Roberto Rossellini, leaving her husband Petter Lindström and daughter Pia behind in Sweden and causing a huge scandal (read more in this post). Exiled from Hollywood and declared persona non grata in the USA, Bergman fortunately still had her friends to count on, many of whom sent her letters of encouragement and support.

In the midst of the scandal Hemingway wrote Bergman the following letter, wishing to let her know that he loved her and that he was her unconditional friend. He also included a warning for Rossellini to better treat his friend right or else (".. he better be a damned good boy for you or Mister Papa will kill him some morning when he has a morning free"). Hemingway is said to have disliked Rossellini, whom he referred to as "the twenty-two pound rat".

 

Dear Ingrid:

Here's your contact, daughter. How is Stromboli? How is Calabria? I have a sort of idea how they are. (Beautiful and Very Dirty.) But how are you? That's what's important. (Maybe you are very beautiful and very dirty too?)

Your letter with Petter's fine P.S. came here to hospital in Padova where I have been with an infected eye. I got it the day you arrived in Italy. How's that for long-distance contact?

Am on my fifth million units of penicillin (they punch my derriere like a time clock every three hours) but fever now is normal and the infection which turned into Erysipelis (no relation to syphilis) but knocked it finally....

[The above part was written from Villa Aprile, Cortina d'Ampezzo in Italy and then Hemingway continued from Finca Vigia, San Francisco de Paula in Cuba:]

What happened was that I got sicker after I wrote that first part and I had to use a lot more penicillin and my eye was too bad to write.

Then I read all that stuff about you and Rossellini and Petter and I didn't know what to write. Now I've had time to think it over (still knowing nothing of what goes on) and I do know I love you very much and am your same solid true friend no matter what you ever do, or decide or where you ever go. The only thing is that I miss you.

Listen daughter, now I have to make speech. This is our one and only life as I once explained to you. No one is famous nor infamous. You are a great actress. I know that from New York. Great actresses always have great troubles sooner or later. If they did not they would not be worth a shit. (Bad word you can delete it.) All things great actresses do are forgiven.

Continue speech: Everybody reaches wrong decisions. But many times the wrong decision is the right decision wrongly made. End of speech.

New speech: Do not worry. It never helped anything ever. 

Finished with speeches. Daughter, please don't worry and be a brave and good girl and know you have, only this short distance away, two people, Mary and me, who love you and are loyal to you. 

Let's be cheerful now like when we used to drink together... Remember this is Holy Year and everybody is pardoned for everything. Maybe you can have quintuplets in the Vatican and I will come and be a first time godfather...

If you love Roberto truly give him our love and tell him he better be a damned good boy for you or Mister Papa will kill him some morning when he has a morning free.

Ernest

P.S. This is a lousy letter but we live in the lousiest times there ever were I think. But it is our one and only life so we might as well not complain about the ball park we have to play in.

We had a wonderful time in Italy. I love Venice in the non-tourist time and all the country around it and the Dolomites are the best mountains I know. I wish you had not been working and could have come up and stayed with us in Cortina d'Ampezzo. I tried to call you up from the hospital, but they said you were in some place without a phone.

Maybe this will never get to you. It certainly won't if I don't send it off. Good luck my dear. Mary sends her love.

Ernest (Mister Papa)

Source: Ingrid Bergman: My Story (1980) by Ingrid Bergman and Alan Burgess