Olivia de Havilland - Every Frenchman Has One

I never will forget the day I went to see a movie which you know all about if youve been watching television lately: Anthony Adverse. I wont mention the year I saw it, but it had just come out, and I was in it, and I was just nineteen. I went in the afternoon, to the very first matinee at Graumans Chinese Theatre in Hollywood. Because Id been in films only a year and this was the fifth and best Id so far made, I was very thrilled and excited, sitting in the dark waiting for the picture to begin. I was also enjoying the rest, because, as youve surmised, I was just a little overworked.

The grand moment came, and with treble voice, her hair hanging down her back, Angela, the character I played, made her first appearance. As she did so, I heard a lady behind me exclaim to another beside her, Thats Olivia de Havilland!

There followed a silence disturbed only by the muted flapping of my ears. Then the second woman queried, I wonder how old she is?

There was no silence this time as the first lady replied with promptness and with certitude, Why, shes thirty if shes a day!

This incident has marked me, and because of it Im not at all sure if you know that Im alive. I have the idea that anyone who has ever heard my name has the distinct impression that I was put under the sod years ago just before they buried Lillian Russell. And so, when I wonder if you know that I live in France, Im sure you dont, because I am certain that you think me peacefully interred, and in good old native American soil.

If thats the case, youre in for a surprise. By golly, Im alive, all right, and I do live in France, and not under but on top of solid Parisian limestone. Furthermore, I speak First Class Foreign French, and if Ive stunned you into immobility by all this startling information, you just keep seated and keep quiet, and Ill tell you how it all came about.

About nine years ago I was living (yes, even then) a life both sober and sobered, although conducted in Hollywood. I had very regretfully come to realize that a divorce from my first husband was necessary, and in August of 1952 had filed for and been granted an interlocutory decree of divorce. In the early spring of 1953 a film Id been in, My Cousin Rachel, had just come out, and I was staying very much at home reading scripts for another one and keeping my eye on the apple of my eye, my three-year-old son, Benjamin Briggs Goodrich. If that sounds like a feat, it was, as he is the most active apple I have ever encountered.

While I was thus engaged, Louella was unhappy, Hedda was unhappy, and the publicity department at Fox, where Id made Rachel, was unhappy. They wanted me to fall in love. And you dont do that if you stay at home with your nose in a script and your eye on its apple, because, among other things, you are just too contorted to do so. Louella, Hedda, my agent, and Fox just didnt understand; they wagged their heads and remarked sadly, Theres only one male she loves, and thats Ben.

About six thousand miles away, on the other side of the Atlantic, the French government was busying itself with its usual occupations and, in addition, preparing for the Cannes Film Festival. As the chestnut trees along the Champs lyses were getting ready to bloom, the office of the Secrtaire Gnral put a lot of white envelopes in the mail; one of them was addressed to me.

When it arrived at my Hollywood apartment, I deflected my gaze from Benjamin for a moment and read the enclosed invitation. Id never been to France and Id never been to a Festival, and after a fifth of a second of solemn deliberation I decided to accept. Forthwith I sent a message to the French government, which had graciously agreed to provide my transportation to and from the Festival, that Id be happy to come if it would send me two airplane tickets instead of one.

Do you know, that simple, frank little request absolutely rocked the French government? And its a government thats had its ups and downs. The Secrtaire Gnral of the Festival went right over to see the Secrtaire Gnral of