Christina Rice - Ann Dvorak: Hollywoods Forgotten Rebel

Ann Dvorak

Hollywoods
Forgotten
Rebel

C HRISTINA R ICE

Copyright 2013 by The University Press of Kentucky

Scholarly publisher for the Commonwealth,
serving Bellarmine University, Berea College, Centre College of Kentucky, Eastern Kentucky University, The Filson Historical Society, Georgetown College, Kentucky Historical Society, Kentucky State University, Morehead State University, Murray State University, Northern Kentucky University, Transylvania University, University of Kentucky, University of Louisville, and Western Kentucky University.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Rice, Christina, 1974

Ann Dvorak : Hollywoods forgotten rebel / Christina Rice.

pages cm. (Screen classics)

Includes bibliographical references and index.

Includes filmography.

ISBN 978-0-8131-4426-9 (hardcover : alk. paper)

ISBN 978-0-8131-4439-9 (epub) -- ISBN 978-0-8131-4440-5 (pdf)

1. Dvorak, Ann, 1912-1979. 2. Motion picture actors and actresses United StatesBiography. I. Title.

PN2287.D885R53 2013

791.43028092dc23

[B] 2013026546

Unless otherwise noted, photographs are from the authors collection.

This book is printed on acid-free paper meeting the requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence in Paper for Printed Library Materials.

Manufactured in the United States of America.

Member of the Association of American University Presses

For Josh and Gable.

I hope I inspire you as much as you inspire me.

When I first encountered Ann Dvorak in the mid-1990s, Id never have guessed she would become so ingrained in my life. I had checked out a VHS copy of Three on a Match from my local library, expecting only to enjoy a short, snappy, minor pre-Code film with Humphrey Bogart and Bette Davis. Instead, I was blindsided by Ann Dvoraks performance as a society wife who throws away wealth, motherhood, and security for hot sex with Lyle Talbot and a lot of drugs. Her long slide to hell was mesmerizing and her ultimate demise shocking. I was so floored by this actress I had never heard of that when the film ended, I hit the rewind button and watched it again. Ann Dvorak was officially on my radar.

Viewings of Scarface and G Men soon followed and there she was again, with those large eyes, distinct voice, and mannerisms that seemed contemporary rather than dated. I found myself desperately wanting to know why this beautiful and talented actress had not become a bigger star. This was in the early days of the Internet and I was a clueless twenty-something, so my efforts to find information on Ann or more of her films were fruitless. I gave up quickly, and Ann Dvorak went on the back burner.

In the fall of 1997, I was interning at a Beverly Hills talent agency alongside a fellow named Darin, the first classic-film buff I had ever encountered. I felt like an old-movie hack compared to him, and in a desperate attempt to sound like I knew something about obscure 1930s actors, I pulled Ann Dvorak out of my hat. It worked. He was impressed and intrigued by my interest in this actress he was only vaguely familiar with, so Ann ended up forging a lasting bond between us. Darin quickly introduced me to the various movie memorabilia shops that were still around in those days before eBay took off, and I quickly discovered that even though I was a starving college student, I could afford to collect gorgeous vintage posters from Anns films. Why? Well, because no one else wanted them. Ann Dvorak was mine to claim if I wanted toso I did.

Somewhere along the line, I decided to become Anns biographer, though it soon became apparent that this was not going to be easy. She retired from the entertainment industry so long ago that most people she worked with are long gone. Those whom I did track down had only hazy memories of working briefly with Ann on forgettable productions. There were no children, no siblings, no close friends to be found, and she outlived her three husbands. There were no personal papers donated to a research institution, and since she spent the last twenty years of her life living in obscurity in Hawaii, she was never interviewed by film scholars in the 1960s and 1970s.

Im not one to believe in spirits or ghosts, but at times I felt as if Ann was continuing to play a role in her story. When two different people gave me large collections of letters written by Ann and her mother, Anna Lehr, it was sheer serendipity. I poured over the 1960s correspondence of these two women, who both wrote in an excited, desperate, breathless fashion, using multiple ellipses to string together sentences describing an action as mundane as feeding the cat. And while these letters sometimes reflected a very troubled side of both, I still felt like I had Anns seal of approval on my project. When I was permitted to have my wedding ceremony and reception at Anns 1930s San Fernando Valley ranch home, how could I not imagine her smiling down on me?

On other occasions, Ann seemed to actively oppose my prying into her life. There are no photos of her third, and last, husband to be found in these pages, because the snapshots that a member of the Wade family mailed to me never showed up. Three weeks after I turned in the final draft of this book to the publisher, I received a cryptic message from a person claiming to have Anns personal possessions, including letters, photos, and a journalitems I had dreamed of finding for over a decade. After two frustrating months of haggling, the box arrived on the day my final edit approvals were due. In the eleventh hour, I found myself frantically scanning photos, writing captions, and revising the final chapters to reflect new information and insight gained about her final years. Maybe Ann was willing to throw me a few bones, but only on her terms and she was not going to make it easy for me.

My quest to uncover the life of Ann Dvorak has not always been a smooth ride, but for all the frustrations I endured, there were also moments of sheer joy, like uncovering another piece of the Dvorak puzzle or discovering something new about Ann that made her even more fascinating. Along the way, I was introduced to many wonderful people because of Ann, and I cannot deny the part she played in turning this insecure college student into a confident professional. It may have taken a long time to get to this point, but I like to think I finally captured Ann Dvorak as she was.

I hope she would agree.

April 4, 1936, was a typical sunny day in Southern California as Ann Dvorak made her way toward the all-too-familiar entrance of the Los Angeles Superior Courthouse. Here, over the past two months, she had endured pointed questions from Warner Bros. lawyers and watched as X-rays of her inner organs were put on display. The proceedings had not gone her way so far, and this last-ditch effort to get the judge to void her contract would probably fail. Still, maybe this time she would at least find out how long her servitude to Warner Bros. would continue. If nothing else, she was no longer the lone rebel lashing out against the serfdom known as the Hollywood studio system. Her fellow Warner costar, James Cagney, had followed her lead by filing his own lawsuit in late February, and rumor had it Bette Davis was also becoming increasingly unhappy. The three actors may have had their own reasons for being discontented, but the underlying motive was the same: to gain control over their own careers. The contracts they had signed early on gave Warner Bros. a stranglehold on their professional livelihood, dictating what roles they would play, loaning them out to other studios without their consentand in Anns case, suspending them indefinitely (without cause, as far as she was concerned) and tacking the unpaid suspension time onto the end of contract, which could extend the termination date by months. These contracts were no different than the ones most actors in Hollywood signed, but Warner Bros. seemed to be the worst offender when it came to overworking its talent, and frequently in mediocre films.