You must destroy this Svengali before it destroys you

Starting with Clash By Night (1952) Marilyn Monroe refused to film a scene unless her acting coach Natasha Lytess was present on the set. Marilyn had met Lytess in the spring of 1948 when the latter was still head drama coach at Columbia. The two women first worked together on Ladies of the Chorus (1948) and continued their collaboration through The Seven Year Itch (1955). Extremely insecure about her acting abilities, Marilyn relied heavily upon Lytess, asking for her approval after each take. If Lytess disapproved, Marilyn would request another take and often ended up doing numerous takes. Needless to say, directors were not happy with the interference from Lytess. She was often banned from the set (for example by Otto Preminger and Roy Baker on respectively River of No Return and Don't Bother to Knock) but would always be reinstated as Marilyn wouldn't shoot without her.

Above and below: Marilyn Monroe studying with her coach Natasha Lytess. Directors and Marilyn's co-stars considered Lytess' presence on the set a major nuisance.

Darryl Zanuck, studio head of 20th Century-Fox, was very unhappy with the Marilyn-Lytess situation. Before Don't Bother To Knock (1952) went into production, he received a request from Marilyn to have Lytess on the set with her. Zanuck responded by letter, saying it was "completely impractical and impossible" and "how ludicrous it would be if every actor or actress felt that they needed special coaching from the sidelines". But despite Zanuck's letter to Marilyn (as seen below), Lytess was not only present on the set of Don't Bother To Knock but also on the sets of Marilyn's subsequent films. With Marilyn quickly becoming one of 20th Century-Fox's biggest box-office draws, directors and co-workers had no choice but to put up with Lytess' interference. In 1955, after disapproving of Marilyn's relationship with Joe DiMaggio, Lytess was replaced with Paula Strasberg who, much to everybody's annoyance, continued to coach Marilyn on the set.

 

December 10, 1951
Miss Marilyn Monroe
611 N. Crescent Drive
Beverly Hills

Dear Marilyn:

Your request to have a special dialogue director work with you on the set is a completely impractical and impossible request. The reason we engage a director and entrust him to direct a picture is because we feel that he has demonstrated his ability to function in that capacity. Whether the final performance comes out right or wrong there cannot be more than one responsible individual and that individual is the director. You must rely upon his individual interpretation of the role. You cannot be coached on the sidelines or the result will be a disaster for you.

In Asphalt Jungle you had a comparatively simple part, in which you were very effective, but it did not particularly call for any acting as compared to the role you are going to play at the present time. It is more than ever important that you therefore place yourself completely in the hands of the director -- or ask to be relieved from the role.

Either Mr. Baker is capable of directing you as well as the rest of the picture or he is not capable of directing anything, but since he is the director we must place our responsibility in him.

I am sure you realize how ludicrous it would be if every actor or actress felt that they needed special coaching from the sidelines. The result would be bedlam, and whatever creative ideas the director might possess would be lost or totally diffused. 

I think you are capable of playing this role without the help of anyone but the director and yourself. You have built up a Svengali and if you are going to progress with your career and become as important talent-wise as you have publicity-wise then you must destroy this Svengali before it destroys you. When I cast you for the role I cast you as an individual. 

Best always,
Darryl Zanuck

Source: Memo from Darryl F. Zanuck: The Golden Years At Twentieth Century-Fox (1993); selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer.

Above: Marilyn Monroe in her role as the disturbed babysitter Nell in Don't Bother To Knock for which she was directed by both her coach Natasha Lytess and the film's director Roy Baker. Below: Marilyn photographed with 20th Century-Fox head Darryl Zanuck.

I don't honestly like the feeling of the film

Today's letter enticed me to watch Love Among the Ruins (1975), a film made especially for television, directed by George Cukor and starring Katharine Hepburn and Laurence Olivier in their only film together. It's a charming film about an ageing actress who, after having been sued for breach of promise, hires a lawyer with whom she was romantically involved some 40 years ago; although she doesn't remember him, he has been in love with her ever since.

What makes the film so delightful are the great performances by the leads, in particular by Laurence Olivier whom I loved in this role. Both Hepburn and Cukor wanted Olivier as the male lead from the start but Olivier wasn't interested in the project at all, as his letter to Cukor dated 27 November 1973 indicates (seen below). According to an interesting Emanuel Levy article, Hepburn and Cukor tried to persuade Olivier to accept the role by writing him a long letter back, asking several questions: "Do you find the relationship–thus cast–not interesting? Do you find it not funny? Do you find it too trivial? Would there be any particular thing which could make you do it, and if so, what? Say it's just hopeless, and we will both blow our brains out." Adding more pressure Cukor then jokingly mentioned their greatest individual failures: "What a combo! The star of Romeo and Juliet; the girl who was so successful in The Lake; and the director–fresh from his success–of Gone With the Wind. Irresistible!". To this Olivier had no defense and finally accepted.

Love Among the Ruins was a huge success, receiving seven Emmy Awards including awards for Cukor, Hepburn and Olivier.

Source: icollector.com

Transcript:

27th November 1973

My dearest Georgie,

I am a hell of a coward not to have got on to you before you left. Let me grovel before you about this, and now I have to grovel again about the opinion - which can be as wrong as all get out but it does insist and therefore has to be sincere - I don't honestly like the feeling of the film of LOVE AMONG THE RUINS, and what makes me feel so badly about not liking it is my opinion is an absolute polarization from yours and from Kate's, whose opinions I respect more than almost anybody else's I can think of.

I am dreadfully sorry but try as I may I just can't change my opinion or make my love and deep admiration for you both alter it to come into line with yours. I can't imagine why this is and there must be something wrong with me. I hope it isn't serious and I hope that it won't make both or either of you feel differently about thinking of me for such a heavensent partnership at some other time.

It was marvellous to see you last week and I can't tell you how Joanie [Plowright] and I ate up your most generous and delicious words of praise for what you saw.

Your appalledly contrite but ever devoted and worshipful,

Larry. (signed) 

Mr. George Cukor

Laurence Olivier, Katharine Hepburn and director George Cukor having a laugh on the set of Love Among the Ruins. For Olivier it was his first and only collaboration with Hepburn and Cukor.

Lucille Ball & Lela Rogers' Little Theatre

Lela Rogers, mother of Ginger Rogers, was not your typical stage mom. Apart from managing Ginger's career, Rogers had a successful career in her own right. She was a journalist, editor, screenwriter and producer, and from the mid-1930s through the early 1940s she worked as an assistant to Charles Koerner, Vice-President of Production at RKO. Put in charge of RKO's budding talent, Rogers ran her own workshop on the studio lot called the Little Theatre, where she trained promising young actresses like Betty Grable, Joan Fontaine, Ann Miller and Lucille Ball.

In her autobiography Love, Lucy (1996), Lucille Ball fondly remembered those early days at RKO with Lela Rogers: "It was such a busy, happy time for me. Lela took the dungarees off us and put us into becoming dresses; she ripped off our hair bands and made us do our hair right. If we went to see a big producer in his office, she cautioned us to put on full makeup and look like somebody. She made us read good literature to improve our English and expand our understanding of character. She drummed into us how to treat agents and the bosses upstairs... " 

Ball studied with Rogers for two years and would later give Rogers credit for turning her into the actress she became. Rogers was the first person to recognise Ball's potential as a comedienne ("a clown with glamour" she called her) even when RKO producer Pandro Berman had told her not to waste her time on Ball. Rogers also stood up for Ball when RKO wouldn't renew her contract and she was responsible for getting Ball a few of her early roles, e.g her first speaking role in Top Hat (1935) as well as her role in Stage Door (1937), the latter being Ball's first standout role.

Above: Lucille Ball and her mentor Lela Rogers whom Ball described as a "wise, warm woman". Below: Rogers shows John Shelton how to hold the gun in one of her Little Theatre productions while Lucy Ball looks on.

Below: Circa 1940, Lela Rogers is giving advice to her students Helen Parrish, Lucille Ball, Cathy Lewis and Anita Louise.

During two years Ball worked with Rogers in her Little Theatre, rehearsing and performing plays which attracted large crowds at 25 cents a ticket. The shows were a terrific opportunity for Ball and others to showcase their talent, especially since directors, producers and critics were often present in the audience. One of the plays produced and directed by Rogers at the Little Theatre was Fly Away Home in January 1936. Ball participated in the play, after which Rogers wrote her the following letter to thank her for taking part. Rogers called Ball's performance "excellent", her praise undoubtedly giving a boost to the young actress' ego. 

Source: icollector.com

Transcript:

January 23, 1936.

Dear Lucille:

I want you to know how sincerely grateful I feel for your participation in "Fly Away Home", and I want you to know that any time I can be of service to you in any way within my power please feel free to call upon me, as I felt free to call upon you.

Your performance was excellent and made "Fly Away Home" the success that it was.

Sincerely yours,

Signed "Lela E Rogers"

Miss Lucille Ball

1344 N. Ogden Drive,

Hollywood, California.

Above: Ginger Rogers and her mother Lela had a close relationship, both personal and professional. They appeared in one film together, Billy Wilder's The Major and the Minor (1942), where Lela played Ginger's mom.

Above: Lucille Ball and Ginger Rogers in Gregory La Cava's 1937 Stage Door (one of my favourite movies of all time). Ball wrote in her autobiography that La Cava didn't really like her but that he only gave her the part at Lela Rogers' insistence. Fun trivia: Lela Rogers was reportedly related to Ball on her mother's side which made Lucy and Ginger distant cousins (the two actresses were also lifelong friends).

Am all excited by the idea of "Oliver"

At one time Audrey Hepburn considered playing the role of Nancy in Oliver!, the film version of Lionel Bart's stage musical of the same name. Having enjoyed working with director George Cukor on My Fair Lady (1964), Audrey very much wanted to make another film with him. The project she had in mind for the two of them was Oliver! which enjoyed a successful run on Broadway from January 1963 until November 1964. Audrey went to see the show and wrote Cukor a letter on 6 January 1964, telling him what she thought of it.

Audrey Hepburn and George Cukor photographed on the set of My Fair Lady, 1963.

Transcribed below is part of Audrey's letter to Cukor, i.e. the part that deals with Oliver!. It's interesting that Audrey was even considering the role of Nancy, seeing that the part was not a leading role but a relatively small one. (Apparently Audrey's wish to do another film with Cukor was so strong that she was willing to settle for a supporting role.) In her letter Audrey makes a few suggestions on how to improve the role by making Nancy "more human" with "more spirit and much more humor". She also suggests that the film version should not be a musical but a story "where the music and songs are incidental". Having just finished My Fair Lady with her voice not deemed good enough (her songs were dubbed by Marni Nixon) Audrey understandably wasn't eager to do another full-blown musical. In the end, Audrey never played Nancy and never worked with Cukor again. The film version of Oliver! (a British production) was eventually released in 1968 with Shari Wallis in the role of Nancy. Directed by Carol Reed, the film became a big hit, winning six Oscars including Best Picture and Best Director.

Source: icollector.com

Transcript:

Dear dear George

[.....] 

Am all excited by the idea of ‘Oliver’ if you were to do it. As you know Harold asked me to see it explaining that the girl was no great shakes as a part but that it could be rewritten. I went to it to enjoy the show but with a skeptical view of doing it—as usually a part ‘isn't there’ for a good reason, there is none. Watching the show I found the performance in general stale, they all seemed to have done it too often, with the exception of ‘Fagan’ [sic] played by Clive Revill whom I thought was brilliant and highly entertaining. In all I felt much much more can be made of the piece. The girl I find could be more human, have far more warmth for and relationship with the Boys—and be more one of them, the ‘pickpocket with heart of gold’ so to speak. I think she could have more spirit and much more humor, the girl ‘yammered’ a bit too much for my liking. The Bumbles and Bill Sykes [sic] are badly cast—the first could be jollier less sinister and Sykes [sic] should be a brute but physically more attractive. You may wonder why I want to play the girl as the boy and Fagan [sic] are the whole cheese. But she could be fascinating if you see it too, if you and Mel [Ferrer] don’t then I am wrong about the possibilities. The movie should be Hogarthian, Dickensian, sepia, moody and real. The score is not superb … it should be a story, where the music and songs are incidental, not a MUSICAL as such… I know how frantically busy you are and I may kill myself if I have wasted your time. The prospect of doing another with you is what may have persuaded and coloured my reaction! We’ll see!

[....]
xx

Above: Shari Wallis in Carol Reed's Oliver! was the perfect Nancy. Here she is pictured with Ron Moody (Fagin) and Oliver Reed (Bill Sikes) in a scene from the film.

Judy Garland's love letter to Frank Sinatra

Judy Garland and Frank Sinatra were not only lifelong friends but they were also romantically involved - twice. The first time was in 1949 after Garland had been fired from the film Annie Get Your Gun (she was replaced by Betty Hutton) and was next admitted to a hospital suffering a nervous breakdown. Following her recovery, Garland (still married to director Vincente Minnelli) went on a secret, romantic rendezvous with Sinatra in the Hamptons. The second time was in 1955 when Garland was separated from her third husband, producer and tour manager Sidney Luft. She briefly resumed her romance with Sinatra, who at the time was also separated from his then-wife Ava Gardner.

Garland remained close friends with Sinatra until her untimely death in 1969. She was $4 million in debt when she died and it was Sinatra who reportedly paid for her funeral. 

The following (undated) letter from Judy Garland to Frank Sinatra was presumably written in 1949, after their romantic rendezvous in the Hamptons.

Source: icollector.com

Transcript:

Darling: 

My sudden departure is a complete surprise to me. And I’m deeply dissapointed [sic] to have to miss our Monday & Tuesday date. However its [sic] imperative that [I] reach Boston by Sunday. I shall be at the Ritz-Carlton either under Mrs. Vicente Minnelli or in care of Carlton Alsop. 

You said today that you’d been neglegent [sic]. But darling—that’s so unimportant compared to the great amount of happiness you’ve given me. I shant [sic] forget the hours weve [sic] spent together—ever! 

I’ll let you know how everything goes on this trip. In the meantime—

Take good care of yourself—be happy and have lots of fun and laughs. 

And for Gods [sic] sake—keep those wheels in your lil ole head down to the minimum. 

Drop me a line if you can because it will cheer me up a great deal. 

I hope to talk to you tommorow [sic] —but I wanted to write this in case we miss connections. Even if we do reach one another—I’ll send it anyway. Its [sic] getting late—so I’m gonna wash up, get my money, etc. 

Goodbye my darling—I hope we see each other soon. Please dont [sic] forget about me. Think about me because I shall be thinking of you.

Always

Judy

Ingrid Bergman's Fall from Grace

By the late 1940s, Swedish-born Ingrid Bergman had become one of Hollywood's biggest and most beloved stars. Brought to the United States by producer David Selznick, Bergman made her first American film Intermezzo in 1939, later followed by such classics as Casablanca (1942), For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943), Gaslight (1944) and Notorious (1946). America adored Bergman, but this abruptly changed in 1949 when she went to Italy and fell in love with Italian director Roberto Rossellini.

Bergman had gone to Italy to make Stromboli (1950) with Rossellini and during production they began an affair which would lead to a scandal of immense proportions. At the time Bergman was married to Swedish brain surgeon Petter Lindström with whom she had a 10-year-old daughter Pia. Rossellini was also married, having recently had a public affair with actress Anna Magnani. The press was having a field day covering the Bergman-Rossellini affair, especially when word got out that Bergman was also pregnant with Rossellini's child. In February 1950 baby Robertino was born out of wedlock and the next month Bergman was denounced on the floor of the U.S. Senate, with senator Johnson saying that she had perpetrated "an assault on the institution of marriage" and even calling her "a powerful influence for evil". 

The scandal forced Bergman to live in exile in Italy, leaving her daughter Pia and husband in the U.S.. In May 1950, after a highly publicised divorce, Bergman married Rossellini and they had two more children (twin daughters, one of them actress Isabella Rossellini). It wasn't until January 1957 that Bergman returned to the U.S., receiving the New York Film Critics' Best Actress Award for her American comeback role in Anastasia (1956) - the role that would also earn her her second Oscar. The American people had at last forgiven her and welcomed her back, of which Bergman later said: "I’ve gone from saint to whore and back to saint again, all in one lifetime".

Ingrid Bergman and Roberto Rossellini whose marriage ended in divorce in 1957.

The Bergman-Rossellini affair was a major concern to Hollywood. Once the press started to report about the affair, Joseph Breen (head of the Production Code Administration) became very worried, writing to a Jesuit friend that the affair was possibly the most shocking scandal Hollywood had had to face in years, especially since "Miss Bergman, from the first day of her arrival here, [had] always conducted herself in a most commendable manner. There [had] never been even the slightest breath of scandal about her. She was regarded as a fine lady of unimpeachable character, a good wife and a good mother".

On 22 April 1949, Breen wrote a letter to Bergman herself and pleaded with her to deny the accusations made against her. Breen's urgent plea can be read below, as well as a telegram from Walter Wanger who also wanted Bergman to contradict the rumours. Wanger was producer of Bergman's latest film Joan of Arc (1948), playing in the theatres when the affair came out, and he was very concerned about his investment. Bergman refused their requests to deny the rumours and issued a press release several months later (in August) saying that she was divorcing her husband. The scandal undoubtedly contributed to Joan of Arc and Bergman's next film Under Capricorn (released in September 1949) becoming box-office failures. Stromboli was also a box-office bomb in the U.S. but was received better overseas.

Ingrid Bergman on the set of Joan of Arc (1948) with director Victor Fleming (who died shortly after the film was released): "People saw me in Joan of Arc and declared me a saint. I'm not. I'm just a woman, another human being". 

Joseph I. Breen (left) and Walter Wanger

 

Dear Miss Bergman, 

In recent days, the American newspapers have carried, rather widely, a story to the effect that you are about to divorce your husband, forsake your child, and marry Roberto Rossellini.  

It goes without saying that these reports are the cause of great consternation among large numbers of our people who have come to look upon you as the first lady of the screen -- both individually and artistically. On all hands, I hear nothing but expressions of profound shock that you have any such plans.  

My purpose in presuming to write to you in the matter is to call your attention to the situation. I feel that these reports are untrue and that they are, possibly, the result of some overzealousness on the part of a press-agent, who mistakenly believes to be helpful from a publicity standpoint.   

Anyone who has such thoughts is, of course, tragically in error. Such stories will not only not react favourably to your picture, but may very well destroy your career as a motion picture artist. They may result in the American public becoming so thoroughly enraged that your pictures will be ignored, and your box-office value ruined. 

This condition has become so serious that I am constrained to suggest that you find occasion, at the earliest possible moment, to issue a denial of these rumours -- to state, quite frankly, that they are not true, that you have no intention to desert your child or to divorce your husband, and that you have no plans to marry anyone. 

I make this suggestion to you in the utmost sincerity and solely with a view to stamping out these reports that constitute a major scandal and may well result in complete disaster personally.   

I hope you won't mind my writing to you so frankly. This is all so important, however, that I cannot resist conveying to you my considered thought in the matter. 

With assurances of my esteem, I am, 

Very cordially, Joseph I. Breen 

 

________ 

 

Dear Ingrid,   

The malicious stories about your behaviour need immediate contradiction from you. If you are not concerned about yourself and your family you should realize that because I believed in you and your honesty, I have made a huge investment endangering my future and that of my family which you are jeopardizing if you do not behave in a way which will disprove these ugly rumours broadcast over radio and press throughout the world.  

We both have a responsibility to Victor Fleming's memory and to all the people that believe in us. Assume you are unaware, or not being informed of, the magnitude of the newspaper stories, and their consequences, and that you are being completely misled. Do not fool yourself by thinking that what you are doing is of such courageous proportions or so artistic to excuse what ordinary people believe.   

Cable me on receipt of this wire. 

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

Do I hear you muttering obscenities?

In the fall of 1936, Tallulah Bankhead began to prepare herself for landing the role of Scarlett O'Hara in David O. Selznick's production of Gone With the Wind (1939), being the first established actress to do so. A star on Broadway, Bankhead had made few films thus far (all of them unsuccessful) and was very eager to play Scarlett. Bankhead was originally from Alabama and while her Southern background was an advantage, her age was not. At 34 she was too old for the role, even though she did her best to appear younger in Scarlett's early scenes (i.e. she followed a diet, had some dental work done, underwent facial treatments and even stopped drinking). 

Tallulah Bankhead in her screentest for Gone With the Wind, late 1936.

Preparing for her screen tests, Bankhead worked closely with David Selznick's associate Katharine "Kay" Brown for three months. The screen tests were directed by Gone With the Wind's first director George Cukor who was Bankhead's friend and had directed her in the film Tarnished Lady (1931). Selznick was pleased with the actress playing the more mature Scarlett but thought her younger Scarlett unconvincing. On 24 December 1936 he sent her a telegram saying: "The tests are very promising indeed. Am still worried about the first part of the story, and frankly if I had to give you an answer now it would be no, but if we can leave it open I can say to you very honestly that I think there is a strong possibility." Bankhead answered the following day: "As I see it, your wire to me means one thing- that if no one better comes along, I'll do. Well, that would be all well and good if I were a beginner at my job. It would be a wonderful thing to hope and wait for, but as this is not the case, I cannot see it that way, and I feel it only fair to tell you that I will not make any more tests, either silent or dialogue, for Scarlett O'Hara, on probation."

Not willing to be second fiddle, Tallulah Bankhead withdrew from the race and the search for Scarlett continued. Then two years later, with the casting of Gone With the Wind still not completed, Selznick got the idea to ask Bankhead for a different role in the film, i.e. the role of Belle Watling, brothel owner and friend of Rhett Butler's. But instead of approaching Bankhead himself Selznick asked Kay Brown to do it for him (".. for God' s sake, don't mention my name in connection with it, simply saying that it is an idea of your own that you haven't yet taken up with me"). In the end, neither Brown nor Selznick made the offer to Bankhead, afraid that it would offend and infuriate her. The role of Belle Watling eventually went to Ona Munson.

Katharine "Kay" Brown and David Selznick

December 6, 1938  

To: Miss Katharine Brown  

Would you care to brave the lioness's den and inquire from Miss Tallulah Bankhead whether she would like to play Belle Watling? As a disappointed Scarlett she's likely to bite your head off - and for God's sake, don't mention my name in connection with it, simply saying that it is an idea of your own that you haven't yet taken up with me.  

My own feeling is that she would do wonders with this bit, making it stand out, and that she would be a perfect illicit mate for Rhett Butler. However, if she betrays any interest you had better explain that it is an extremely small part, having only about three of four appearances.  

The reason I think she might go for it is simply as a stunt, just as it has been suggested that Mae West (who is out of the question, of course) might be glad to do it as a stunt.   

Do I hear you muttering obscenities?  

DOS

Source: Memo from David O. Selznick (1972); selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer.

Clark Gable as Rhett Butler and Ona Munson as Belle Watling in Gone With the Wind.

The Oscar thing has deteriorated into a sickening mess

This summer I saw My Fair Lady (1964) on the big screen for the first time which was an absolute joy. Rewatching the film, however, I still found it hard to believe that Audrey Hepburn wasn't even nominated for an Oscar for her delightful portrayal of Eliza Doolittle. The snub is one of the biggest nomination snubs of all time and I can imagine how devastated Audrey must have been.

Someone who was outraged by the Academy's failure to nominate Audrey was Deborah Kerr. Deborah was a friend of Audrey's and, according to Audrey biographer Barry Paris, one of the very few friends Audrey had in the film industry. Both women lived in Switzerland, not very far from each other. About her friendship with Audrey, Deborah said in later years: "To the world it may not have seemed that constant or deep an association, but we became very close even though we didn't see each other much. I couldn't say, 'She was my best friend in my whole life'. Yet in a way, perhaps she was." 

When Deborah learned about Audrey not being nominated for My Fair Lady, she wrote Audrey the following letter expressing her shock and anger at the injustice of the Oscar snub. Calling the Oscars a "sham", "hypocritical" and a "sickening mess", I'm sure Deborah conveyed the feelings of many of Audrey's colleagues and friends. In her letter Deborah also mentions Patricia Neal who had just suffered three strokes while pregnant; Audrey would replace Patricia as one of the presenters at the Oscar ceremony to be held a month later (read more about that here). 

Source: Christie's

Transcript:

Friday March 5th [1965]

My darling Aud-

Our life was such a hectic and horrible rush before leaving Klosters a week ago, that I did not have time to write and tell you how positively stunned amazed and shocked and disgusted and 'you name it', we* both were at your not being nominated. If I started to go into all that I feel - all the resentment and boiling anger I entertain for the whole sham - hypocritical - sickening mess the Oscar thing has deteriorated into in these last years, I would take pages, and bore the hell out of you as well!! It is enough to say darling that we feel for you so very much, because however philosophical one is, however one says one doesn't really care, ONE DOES!! And it hurts. But then one starts to think of that tragic Pat Neal, and all her children + her poor husband [Roald Dahl], and one knows that the Oscar is an eye-drop in this world of pain and madness.

Darling one - we send very very much love, and Pedro Amarillo Sucio is no longer Amarillo but still Sucio!

Fondly + affectionately

Deborah

* "We" undoubtedly refers to writer Peter Viertel whom Deborah married in July 1960 and with whom she lived in Klosters, Switzerland.

Above: Audrey and Deborah with Deborah's husband Peter Viertel, ca. 1965. Below: Audrey and Deborah were jointly voted "Best Actress of the Broadway Season 1953-1954" in a poll of the New York Drama Critics, i.e. Audrey for her role in Ondine and Deborah for Tea and Sympathy; here Deborah visits Audrey backstage during the run of Ondine.

Censoring "The Great Gatsby" (1926)

In 1922, following the public outcry against immorality in Hollywood films and the scandals involving some of Hollywood's biggest stars, the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America (MPPDA) was founded. The main goal of this new trade organisation, with former Postmaster General Will Hays at the helm, was to clean up the film industry's bad image. Also, the industry was worried about the increase of city and state censorship boards, fearing that federal censorship was not far away. In order to avoid outside meddling, the MPPDA eventually set up its own censorship guidelines in 1929 -- i.e. the Motion Picture Production Code, to be rigidly enforced from mid-1934 on.

Before Hollywood started censoring its own films, state and local censorship boards decided whether films were fit for screening or not. In 1907, the city of Chicago created the first censorship board in the U.S. and other city boards soon followed. State governments also began to follow suit, with the state of Virginia being the last of seven U.S. states to create its own censorship board in 1922. Because of their different censorship rules, these boards were a major headache to Hollywood -- what was acceptable in one city/state could be unacceptable in another, meaning that studios often had to issue multiple versions of the same film (costs being paid by the studios). 

The man responsible for collecting the complaints of the various censorship boards was Will Hays. It was Hays' task to contact the producers of the films involved and to inform them of the changes that needed to be made. On 15 November 1926, Hays wrote to Jesse Lasky of Famous Players-Lasky Corporation (later Paramount), communicating the views of the Virginia Censor Board regarding Herbert Brenon's The Great Gatsby, the only silent film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel. The Virginia Board demanded several cuts, including the elimination of certain subtitles, e.g. the suggestive "There are things between Daisy and me which you will never know".

Incidentally, it is known that Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda went to see the film but, being New Yorkers, the version they saw may have been different from the one released in Virginia. In any case, the film was not to their liking and they reportedly walked out on it, with Zelda later describing it as "rotten", "awful" and "terrible". 

The 1926 The Great Gatsby is considered a lost film, only the trailer still exists.

Source: Heritage Auctions

Transcript: 

November 15, 1926

Mr. Jesse L. Lasky

Famous Players-Lasky Corpn.,

485 Fifth Avenue

New York City, N.Y. 

Dear Mr. Lasky:

The word from the Virginia censor board as to cuts in "The Great Gatsby" follows: 

"Eliminate close-up view of girls' legs, grouped around small table set for cocktails; eliminate close-up view of man and woman in bathing suits in suggestive postures on raft; eliminate the two close-up scenes where Jerry and Daisy are shown with skirts so blown by the wind as unduly to expose their legs. Of the several successive scenes showing man lying with his head in lap of Myrtle's sister, eliminate all but one - a four foot flash to carry the sub-title; eliminate that scene in which Myrtle's sister in quickly rising from the couch makes suggestive exposure of underwear. Eliminate scene at close of lovemaking between Myrtle and Tom Buchanan showing him lying on sofa by her. Eliminate sub-title 'There are things between Daisy and me which you will never know'; also sub-title 'Things neither of us can ever forget.' (These sub-titles are suggestive of connubial relations)" 

With kindest personal regards, I am

Sincerely yours,

signed" Will H Hays" 

Above: l-r: Lois Wilson as Daisy Buchanan, Warner Baxter as Jay Gatsby, Hale Hamilton as Tom Buchanan and Neil Hamilton as Nick Carraway in the 1926 silent The Great Gatsby. Below: First chairman of the MPPDA, Will Hays.