Dutch Girl: Audrey Hepburn and World War II

When my mother wanted to teach me a lesson about life she never used stories about her career.  She always told stories about the war.  The war was very, very important to her.  It made her who she was. 

Luca Dotti,  youngest son of Audrey Hepburn

 

Breaking out at the height of the studio era, World War II indelibly impacted Hollywood’s stars as much as it did the movie going public.   Author Robert Matzen has highlighted three dynamic instances of this in a WWII trilogy that began with Carole Lombard and her tragic death, continued with Jimmy Stewart’s service as a bomber pilot and concludes with his latest book Dutch Girl: Audrey Hepburn and World War II. 

Dutch Girl is a somber and rich book, filled with meticulous detail and compassion.  Matzen does a superb job of weaving together an exploration of the searing impact of the war upon the adolescent Audrey, or Adriaantje as she was endearingly known to her family, and the history of the German occupation and subsequent Allied advancement into Holland.  The onslaught the country endured is chronologically depicted yet always brought back to the story of this particular girl, in this time.  Throughout, the actor remains a lilting, inspirational presence.

 

Hepburn descended from an aristocratic family of relatively insubstantial means but of some influence.  The result was privilege but also targeting, to the point of familial assassination, and a heightened sense of responsibility to embody strength and courage.  The regal bearing that the actor brought to her film roles, most strikingly in Roman Holiday, resulted as much from the perseverance and self-discipline that saw her through hardship as the expectations foisted upon her as a member of the aristocracy.  Her years of training in ballet only enhanced these qualities and in turn, her charismatic poise.

Her mother and father, in each their own way, initially embraced fascism as the start of a new order, bringing prestige and discipline to a WWI ravaged continent. Both later regretted these impulses on a personal level; initial nationalistic stirrings did little to provide food, shelter and safety as the war raged on.  It is little wonder that Hepburn chose to abandon her aristocratic roots and any claim to titles in her adult years.  These conflictual forces left indelible scars upon the teen-age Audrey that persisted long after the war’s resolution and permanently forged her character.

Audrey and her mother, Ella van Heemstra

The book is graced with an introduction by Hepburn’s son Luca Dotti, who also agreed to a sit-down interview with the author, provided photos and in essence his blessing to the project.  His enthusiastic endorsement brings heightened legitimacy, a sense even further solidified by conversational chapter notes.  In these there is the sense of a different story, one of the author’s own travels, personal communications and experiences in discovering his book.  His respect and deference for those who endured through the war years is palpable.  The breadth of his research admirable and awe-inspiring.  If anything, there are times when in the aim of sharing as many personal stories as possible, there is a bit of bogging down in the narrative, with various eye-witness accounts bolstering the exhaustive detail and breathing life into an interminable war.  Yet the book is never dry nor disinterested in the tale of its dual subjects, that of the battering of the Netherlands and its brave people during WWII, and the young Audrey who later became its most cherished and famous celebrity.

Matzen avoids some of the pitfalls of his earlier work Fireball: Carole Lombard and the Mystery of Flight 3 where his attempts to bring individuals to life resulted in some jarring instances of speculation as to personal thoughts, motives and remorse.  Here his personalization attains the level of sympathetic renderings while allowing a respectful amount of breathing room.  The narrative flows smoothly and almost entirely, except for a few italicized initial passages within chapters, chronologically.  This works well given the complexity of the material shared regarding the war itself.  The air raids, invasions and movements of troops and the complexities of occupation can become overwhelming but are certainly imperative in understanding the devastating impacts upon a creative, impressionable child.  Most telling are the passages that relate Hepburn’s struggles with hunger during the final year:

The last winter, the so-called ‘hunger winter’ was the nearest I could come to saying I’ve seen starvation… Children were always rummaging in the dust bins and people were dying of hunger and cold.

These experiences led to a deep empathy for children suffering in some of the most devastated regions of the world, those tossed about by political movements, military initiatives and starvation.  Hepburn infused not only her acting but her boots-on-the-ground work as an ambassador for UNICEF, work that took her to Ethiopia, the Sudan, Somalia, and elsewhere, with the compassion resultant from her life experiences.  Her empathy ran so deep that her slight frame became more fragile as she traveled and matured.  Eventually she would die of cancer at the age of 63.  Matzen is able to follow this thread too, from its roots in the deprivation of war to her sad, premature succumbing.

Dutch Girl is a stirring and remarkable read, thoroughly researched, compelling and certainly overdue.  It is highly recommended for Audrey Hepburn admirers, classic film fans and history lovers, who are so often one and the same.

Many thanks to Smith Publicity Inc, the author and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this book. I feel honored to have had the opportunity to review it. Dutch Girl: Audrey Hepburn and World War II by Robert Matzen  (GoodKnight Books 2018) may be pre-ordered in Hardcover or Audiobook from Barnes and Noble, Amazon or your favorite bookseller. It will be available April 15, 2019.

Sensible Cinderella: Kitty Foyle (1940)

A RKO Production ~  Director: Sam Wood,  Screenplay: Dalton Trumbo with additional dialogue by Donald Ogden Stewart, based on a novel by Christopher Morley,  Art Director: Van Nest Polglase,  Costume Designer: Renie

In a year filled with phenomenal films, Kitty Foyle is a good and satisfying movie, but not necessarily a great one.  And yet it was nominated for five Academy Awards, with Ginger Rogers receiving her only nomination and win for this melodramatic woman’s picture, based upon the best-selling 1939 name-sake novel.

The movie begins with an opening sequence that brings us up to date on the state of womanhood in 1939.  Depicted as single, hard-working and man-seeking, the ‘modern ’woman , “a comparative newcomer to the American scene”,  is shown struggling to make her way in a world that does not always make that way easy.  She lacks the protections of a male embrace, her place as a homemaker and the respect that the roles of wife and mother have traditionally bestowed upon her.  Suffragettes, hoping for better, have apparently gotten more than they bargained for now that the Great Depression has thrown them in among the wolves.

This episodic and unfortunately dated opening sets up the quandary of our heroine, Kitty Foyle.  She is strong and independent and yet she struggles.  Seemingly bereft and without family support, she looks to love and finds herself at a crossroads between her desire for the romantic idealized prince of her youth, and the pragmatic considerations of her situation.  Kitty must choose between an adventurous life as an unwed partner to a man she adores, a man who is affectionate and charming but lacking in strength and endurance, and another who is earnest, but frugal, plodding but loyal; he is also definitely not her first choice.

This latter point is brought home by the efficient casting.  Dennis Morgan as Wyn Strafford is dazzling as the man of her heart’s desire.  His smile lights up the screen.   Radiating personal warmth as he sweeps in and out of Kitty’s life, he even takes her out for a night to envy Cinderella’s ball, complete with chimes in the form of an alarm to end the reverie.  Meanwhile, her pragmatic prospect tests her to the point of rudeness, blackmails her into a first date and persists despite her love for another man.  He is patently devoid of charisma.  There is little to no chemistry between Miss Foyle and Dr. Mark Eisen, played woodenly by James Craig.  That is just the point however; it may take better acting than might be first apparent to make a handsome doctor this much of a bland second choice.

In early scenes, Kitty is supported with a home and wisdom by her father, played with long-suffering pluck, Irish cheer and humor by Ernest Cossart, echoing Thomas Mitchell in his portrayal.  His presence is key to understanding Kitty’s determination and sense of spirit.  Long after his departure his influence upon her choices and ultimate decision is felt.

Her quandary is presented early in the film, and elucidated during a debate Kitty conducts with herself via a talking mirrored image.   This was a unique device at the time and pulls the viewer into the film; her dual personas are intriguing.  Kitty’s impetuous, spirited and fancy-free self has literally come face to face with her mature, and wiser woman; it’s a little harder to fool herself than it once was. Rogers plays this well and immediately gains our sympathy.  This was not the only time she was to play herself at multiple ages and levels of maturity.  Here she has a scene where she is just fifteen years old, and similarly to her work in The Major and The Minor, where she plays just twelve, as well as her own mother, she is able to handle the age range convincingly.

Rogers is warm and heart-breakingly human, yes even flawed in this story.  The many close-ups in the film display the subtlety of her work, as her emotions run the gamut from dizzying happiness to devastating disappointment and grief.  She never fails the audience or the intent of the lovely screenplay. Watch her face as the slow realization of the loss of her son washes over her to see the reason for this nomination. Rogers shines without overshadowing Kitty’s story.

This story, which is primarily shown in flashback, is told from a woman’s perspective, an interesting point given all the men that were involved in its creation.  In fact the film is subtitled ‘The Natural Story of a Woman’. Imagine the audience of women at the time, still struggling with the shocks of the worst economic crisis this country had known.  And here is Kitty Foyle.  She is portrayed by the beautiful Ginger Rogers, she of all the glamorous RKO fantasy films where she paired with Fred Astaire, dancing his dances and following his choreography, brought down to earth and living in a small two-room apartment with two other young struggling women.  There is no public safety net, no assurance that it might not be your boss who blackmails you to revel in your attractiveness and not the handsome yet unknown stranger, albeit doctor. Kitty’s choices are of course that of a movie star, a bit of a princess. She chooses between the dashing offspring of a wealthy scion of society and a good-looking smitten physician.  Not much less could be expected of anyone as glamorous as Rogers, yet these dilemmas were very much like the choices being made by women everywhere. Pragmatic cautious decisions were more important than ever.  Her dilemma is relatable and understandable.

The script by Dalton Trumbo walks some delicate lines in blurring a novel that was written without a Production Code to abide by.  This makes the film a bit of a puzzle at times.  Kitty has a hasty marriage and an even more impulsive and spontaneous divorce.  Her marriage results in pregnancy and the subsequent loss of this child through stillbirth (a woman’s heartbreak not all that uncommon at times both then and now).  In the book, Kitty has a dalliance with Mr. Dazzling that results in an unwed pregnancy and an abortion.  Trumbo cunningly sticks to the major plot points while adhering to the Code. Of note is a very romantic, moving scene in the Poconos that fades to black and helps us to understand Kitty’s love for Wyn. While the film plays fast and loose with the time frames, audiences were well aware of both the restrictions of the Code as well as the shocking circumstances and sadness that Kitty endures through familiarity with the novel.  Its raciness had done much to make it a best-seller.

It was this very raciness that had first made the project unpalatable to Rogers.  But ultimately she made a shrewd decision.  The public knew that she was a talented entertainer.  She could dance with the absolute best and sing too.  She had shown a wonderful way with comedy and endeared audiences to her as she helped them to escape the dreariness of their everyday realities with music and laughter.  But 1940 was the year she made her first forays into serious roles.  Kitty Foyle was recognized by the industry but Primrose Path, a romantic confection filled with realistic grittiness from director Gregory LaCava, also starring Rogers, and  co-starring Joel MacCrae, was released just nine months ahead of this one.  Kitty Foyle was the bigger film, a hit for RKO and subsequently nominated for Best Picture.

The field was crowded that year.  There were ten films nominated for the top Oscar, several undeserving and others perhaps that should have won; Hitchcock’s Rebecca beat out a challenging field.  Additionally, there were many others that, in any other year would have been nominated.  Numerous women were also deserving of recognition.  Rogers faced stiff opposition from Katherine Hepburn, Bette Davis, Joan Fontaine and Martha Scott for her award.  This was also the year of Rosalind Russell’s career-defining turn in His Girl Friday, Irene Dunn’s snappy performance in My Favorite Wife and a heartbreaking portrayal by Vivien Leigh in Waterloo Bridge that was a far cry from her Scarlett O’Hara. There has always been a sense of upset, that Kitty Foyle was a minor film and a not particularly worthy performance.  But Rogers, in depicting an everywoman, while remaining her glamorous self, grabbed hold of audiences and apparently Academy members, who not only wished to honor her performance here, which is quite moving, but seemingly the body of her work and the incredible range of her talent. From the time she delivered her famed pig-Latin rendition of “We’re In the Money” to her sashays with Astaire, Ginger Rogers had done her part to help a nation through the tough years of the Great Depression and the Academy and movie-going audiences were grateful.

Recommended for its moving story, the chemistry of Rogers and Morgan and its Oscar winning history.

Ginger with her mother, Lela Rogers

Ginger with her new found friend

This post is a part of the 31 Days of Oscar Blogathon 2017 February 17-19, 2017 hosted by Paula’s Cinema Club, Once Upon a Screen and Outspoken and Freckled. For more please click the image below:

Notes and Extras

• Bosley Crowther of The New York Times describes this one as “a boy-girl drama which tugs cruelly on the heartstrings but never snaps them.”  He seemed to like it quite a bit, rightly predicted its popularity and noted significant deviation from the novel, some of it necessary to “conform with the moral code”.  He’s kinder to Craig’s doctor who he feels is no less attractive than Morgan and seems to agree with the film that Kitty makes a wise choice, perceiving Strafford as cowardly.  Perhaps….
• This was a break-out role for Dennis Morgan, cowardly though he might’ve been.  Morgan began his Hollywood career in a favorite of mine, Piccadilly Jim (1936) with a small uncredited part as a nightclub singer.  And a singer he was, having studied voice at the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music and the American Conservatory in Chicago.  His lovely singing voice made him useful as both a bit player and singer until he was established.
• Some of you may recognize Morgan for his role in the holiday perennial Christmas in Connecticut (1945) where he displays beautiful chemistry with Barbara Stanwyck.  He is charming (what else?), commanding and gets to use his golden pipes in that one too. When Stanwyck as housekeeping expert Elizabeth Lane questions his character Jefferson Jones by asking “Are you making love to me?”, we’re pretty sure he is, and that’s exactly how she wants it.
• Early in his career Morgan appeared in The Great Ziegfeld (1936) in the famous Wedding Cake musical number.  Cast due to his voice, you might assume it’s him singing the famous “A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody”, but you’d be wrong (as I was)!  In fact Morgan himself didn’t find out that his voice in the number was dubbed until he watched it at the premiere.  Imagine that…
• Morgan made five films in 1936 another of which was Suzy with Jean Harlow, Franchot Tone and Cary Grant.  That’s an awful lot of good looks for one picture.
• Speaking of good looks, Morgan is a bit of a Prince Chaming in this picture and that’s not the only fairy tale suggestion you’ll get here.  Watch for soothing rhythmic imagery in this film: a snow globe containing a child’s sled, Cinderella references with time-ticking deadlines, a speakeasy with a special bottle of liquor, seemingly bottomless.  Interestingly enough, Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane was in production, also at RKO, when this film was released.  For Kitty the snow globe and the sled within represent her “little girl”, ties to her father, childhood and lost innocence.  This snow globe also makes for a unique transitional device during short interludes of voice over-narration, spoken by the much wiser Kitty.  Interesting the way one artistic endeavor can influence another. As well as awards…
• Rogers was probably pretty happy she accepted this role.  It first went to Katherine Hepburn who turned it down.  Hepburn was subsequently nominated that same year for The Philadelphia Story, which she considered her “comeback vehicle”, in a role she created for the stage, but lost the Oscar to Rogers.  Funny how things turn out…
• In fact Kitty Foyle was nominated for five Academy Awards:  Best Picture, Best Director for Sam Wood, Best Actress in a Leading Role, Writing – Adapted Screenplay for Dalton Trumbo and Best Sound.  This was Wood’s second nomination; he had three altogether but never won.  But Trumbo, who was also nominated three times, won twice, both times under a pseudonym due to Hollywood blacklisting.  The record was subsequently changed to reflect his unique contributions.  Roman Holiday, a true American classic, is the best known of these two winners.
• Besides winning Rogers her award, this film has another mark of distinction:  the subsequent donning of little white collars by secretaries and women in the workforce by the droves.  As noted prophetically by film critic John Mosher in The New Yorker, “I am inclined to think that it’s Miss Ginger alone who makes ‘Kitty Foyle’ a better-than-average film and Kitty herself a proper model for those hundreds of thousands of young things who will now be adding a touch of white to their neckline.” What is it with these film critics and their ability to foresee trends?  And so the phrase “White Collar Girl” became a part of the vernacular.  Life magazine did a photo essay on the life and times of such a girl, modeled after Rogers’ Kitty.  One caption reads “The Five p.m. feeling is awful. Finished with work, she is sure of meal and a bed. But she suffers the dreadful loneliness of the White Collar Girl because she has nothing to do between work and bedtime. Here is the five p.m. feeling in Times Square”. Cue dismal-looking  model.  This is pretty heavy stuff and gives some insight into the cultural context of this film.  I’m getting that five p.m. feeling just reading about it.
• RKO, knowing its audience and the appeal of both the film and the novel, arranged for Rogers’ to attend an annual stenographers’ ball in New York just two weeks after the film’s opening.  Rogers donned her little white collar but ever the movie star, and good PR person, she decorated it with a  generous diamond broach and wore a mink coat, matching mink-trimmed hat and gold earrings. She was met at Grand Central Station by 1,500 cheering fans and was given a special scroll by that year’s Queen of the Stenographers.
• Ginger Rogers is listed in the AFI’s 50 Greatest Screen Legends, coming in at number 14.

Dancing As Fast As They Can: Dance, Girl, Dance (1940)

A RKO Production ~  Director: Dorothy Arzner, Based on a story by Vicki Baum, Screenplay by Tess Slesinger and Frank Davis, Art Director: Van Nest Polglase,  Costume Designer: Edward Stevenson

What a warm, satisfying movie this is. As must happen in post-Code Hollywood, a young woman pays a price, both for her naïveté as well as her ability to pack a good wallop, but becomes a better woman for it, having come to terms with her own nature and realizing her dreams in the process.

There is so much in Dance, Girl, Dance that it’s hard to know where to begin. What’s most interesting is that Dorothy Arzner has been able to present characters that make many mistakes and yet remain sympathetic. She has an unerring sense of humanity towards these people, hiding their foibles in plain sight by rendering them as charming as they are flawed and struggling.

Their struggles involve primarily finding out who they are but also in finding who they love and it is only in resolving the first that they are able to discover the second. The resolved romances at films end work nicely to underscore this sense that these people have finally come home, only to find themselves opening the door. The film works as a romantic comedy but definitely has serious pre-feminist undertones.

Our heroine,  Judy O’Brian, played by a luminous and young Maureen O’Hara, admits her Irish feistiness but acknowledges she “keeps it to a low simmer”. Her best friend, also a bit of an antagonist, is portrayed by a gorgeous and scene-stealing Lucille Ball. She plays Bubbles, a gold-digger disguised as a dancer but not necessarily one with a heart of gold. Her comedic gifts are certainly on display but here there’s a toughness and an edge rarely seen. Bubbles’ primary aim is to find that gold and keep it for herself; survival is the name of the game. While she’s capable of being a friend she’s not necessarily capable of being a good one.

Bubbles offers Judy a chance to finally make a living dancing but it’s a humiliating one where she is actually called a Stooge. Sent on stage to be mocked and laughed at, she’s there to stoke the crowd for the more seductively naughty Bubbles, now facetiously dubbed Tiger Lily White, in a burlesque show.

Judy longs for the kind of break that would allow her to truly pursue her heart and become a serious dancer, but her lack of confidence gets in the way and prevents her from sensing opportunity when it literally smiles her way. As the one doing the smiling, Ralph Bellamy adds a warm presence and a handy shoulder.

Judy’s nightly onstage humiliation moves her anger from what was a simmer to a slow burn and ultimately a full-blown knockdown drag-out with Bubbles. Ostensibly about a man who takes turns toying with each of them, a smarmy Louis Hayward, the confrontation is more about the women’s relationship and who they are to one another. Bubbles maintains this friendship not just because Judy has been useful to her but because she brings a warmth and depth to her life that would not be there without her companionship. Similarly, Judy admires Bubbles ability to unabashedly pursue her selfish interests and thereby make her way in the world, a man’s world, despite compromises. These are two tough women and they admire each other. But the dichotomy they represent is also why they come to blows.

This film opens with a simple dance sequence, marked by dazzling costumes, that immediately establishes character.  This small troupe is overseen by a wise Maria Oupenskaya, portraying Madame Lydia Basilova, who makes a short but lovely appearance as the original source of strength for these women.  Madame, a former ballerina and  head of her own dance troupe is a role model for Judy and Bubbles in an industry compromised by catering to men’s ogles and desires. Madame is tragically killed when Judy goes to what should’ve been her big break but which instead becomes only a revelatory moment; Judy is too frightened to fully pursue her dreams.  It is only when she finally grabs hold of her own anger that she is able to understand she is entitled to her own happiness.

Much of the story revolves around men who are used as plot devices; this is a woman’s story. In one literally show stopping moment O’Hara delivers a scathing speech to her predominately male audience, best seen rather than described. It’s far ahead of its time.

Despite being a film about dance the costuming works in homage to the characters and their development. The film opens with the small troupe dancing in unison in glittering black. However, as the women’s paths diverge, they are never again seen in identical costumes. Bubbles rise up the ladder of success involves not just a name change but the donning of gorgeous coats with luscious fur collars. She is expensively accessorized. Similarly, Judy is seen in simple designs, even wearing a Peter Pan collar to a nightclub, until the very end when she finally comes into her own. The costumes in this picture were designed by Edward Stevenson,  known for his ability to enhance story without drawing attention to his own designs. He later became the favorite designer for Lucille Ball who appreciated his eye for character-driven costumes that never overpowered her considerable personality except when needed for comedic effect.

Maureen O’Hara positively glows with her youthfulness and beauty in this early role. A mere twenty years old at the time, she had already succeeded in starring roles in two motion pictures, this being her fifth film.

For Lucille Ball, the road to fame was a much longer, arduous process. Almost unbelievably this was Ms. Ball’s 60th film, with many more to come before she finally achieved stardom as Mrs. Ricky Ricardo in the famed I Love Lucy television series. The series was a love child for Lucille Ball and her husband Desi Arnaz.

Based on a story by Vicky Baum and a script by the frequent screenwriting partnership of Tess Slesinger and Frank Davis (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn) Dance, Girl, Dance definitely showcases the perspective of the women who created it and the men who supported their vision.

Recommended, for knowledge of woman in film, lovers of Maureen O’Hara and Lucille Ball and sheer entertainment. 

Notes and Extras

• Bosley Crowther at the New York Times didn’t particularly care for this one, citing it as “a saga of glamour-struck chorines to end all sagas of said glamour-struck chorines” and not in a flattering way.  He does have a few kind words for Lucille Ball.
• Yet this film is gaining in esteem and this is reflected over at Streamline, the Filmstruck Blog.  David Kalat gives it a fair amount of space and good words, in addition to exploring some other movies in the ‘small town girl hoping to make good’ genre.
• Crowther also withheld praise from Too Many Girls, Desi Arnaz’s first film, co-starring his new bride, Lucille.  The influential critic had better words for her than for Arnaz who he panned horribly describing him as a “a noisy, black-haired Latin whose face unfortunately lacks expression and whose performance is devoid of grace”.  Needless to say Arnaz persevered.
• The couple not only persevered but went on to buy  the very property where this was shot, along with the rest of RKO’s soundstages and backlots, subsuming them into the massive empire that became Desilu Studios.
• Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz actually met during the filming of Dance, Girls, Dance.  Due to the strenousness of filming a morning into afternoon vicious catfight between O’Hara and Ball, shooting was stopped, freeing up the latter for the remainder of the day. Lucy casually strolled over to a stage where the cast of Too Many Girls, already in the planning stages, was gathered.  Desi’s quick eye caught hers and he proceeded to not only show her his rumba but asked her to dinner for the evening.  As Lucy later recalled “we were in love almost immediately”.
• Lucy and Desi were married on November 30, 1940, three months after the release of Dance, Girl, Dance.  For more on their breath-taking relationship and professional partnership, Lucy & Desi: The Legendary Love Story of Television’s Most Famous Couple by Warren G. Harris is highly recommended.
• Maureen O’Hara and Lucille Ball became fast friends during the filming of this picture and remained so until Ball’s death in 1989.  O’Hara, nine years her junior, outlived her by twenty-six years.
• Costume designer Edward Stevenson first worked with Ball on That Girl From Paris (1936), another RKO film. When seeking a designer for her television show I Love Lucy, Ball sought him out.  He worked for her until his death from cardiac arrest in 1968. At the time, Stevenson had placed a called to Desilu to consult upon a fabric. When Ball got to the phone, she was informed he’d been stricken.
• Director Roy Del Ruth was initially assigned to direct this film, but left the production, causing Arzner to scramble and pull the film together and quickly.
• Dorothy Arzner was well-suited to pulling things together.  As the only female director working in the 1930’s, she was adaptable.  Arzner was the first woman to direct a sound film and the first to join the Directors Guild of America.
• Dance,Girl, Dance is available for streaming through Amazon, to either rent or purchase.  Choices, choices.

Dorothy Arzner with Lucille Ball on set