Lee Server’s biography on Bob Mitchum is perhaps the best movie star biography I have read; this is his follow up, in a way, and although I didn’t find it as good (I’m a bigger Mitchum fan than Ava Gardner fan) it was still pretty terrific.
Gardner had much in common with Mitchum: legends of the screen, often underrated as actors and stars but rarely out of work, never the top rank stars of the time but they have gone on to overshadow most of them; both were favourites of Howard Hughes, both acted in a film (they had an affair), both had exhausting off screen appetites for drinking and members of the opposite sex, both would disparage their own considerable abilities while secretly caring.
Most of all – and I think this was the big thing that attracted Server – both genuinely didn’t give a stuff. Off screen, I mean – Mitchum was genuinely cool, and so was Ava. Once she became a star she slowed her career down right away; she would kick off her shoes, go dancing, have a drink, break a heart. She didn’t care. Mitchum was like that, too – Mitchum had a major advantage over her in that he was married for most of his life, his wife giving him stability Ava never had; he also had children and perhaps a greater work ethic (no doubt partly caused by having children).
Ava Gardner’s life was an odd one – a North Carolina farm kid, the sixth in her family, she got her break by looks and looks alone: visiting her sister in New York, a photo was taken of her, which was seen by an MGM talent scout, who arranged to have her tested. Normally one would say the rest is history, but it wasn’t – she languished for years under contract, despite being one of the most stunning women on the planet (everyone remarks in the book how films never did justice to her), despite having relationships with three of the most famous men on the planet (Mickey Rooney, Howard Hughes, Artie Shaw).
Why wasn’t she promoted a star before The Killers? MGM probably had enough female talent at the time, and I supposed Ava was built for darker movies than the ones that studio made – if there was a suitable role, Lana Turner would nab it. Also, she lacked any confidence in her abilities and didn’t really shine in her early parts. It took Universal to make her a star – though, having said that, I think MGM gave her decent roles in the 1950s and tried to give her more (Sweet Bird of Youth is one she was offered and should have done). She might whinge about the studio, and certainly they tried to butt into her life at times especially during the Mickey Rooney days, but the studio trained her, and she managed to shake free of herself no worries.
What made Ava run? She obviously liked sex and alcohol – the former was something she seems to have been made for (she made every man who came into contact with her something of a nervous blabbering wreck, even Frank Sinatra - with the possible exception of Artie Shaw), the latter helped cover her insecurities, and then she simply got hooked. She was simply sex on legs, something her films convey but obviously was nothing compared to real life. My first impressions of her were from 70s disaster films, were she wasn’t much chop – but check her out in those late 40s films – she’s amazing.
Server has a great deal of affection for his subject, who seems like she was mad but a great deal of fun, especially after only a few drinks; he points out that she behaved very badly on set in the 60s (her professionalism seemed to vanish over night once she was free of a long term MGM contract). She was so crazy even the Spaniards got sick of her (she lived there for a time). She calmed down towards the end of the decade but still lived pretty hard towards the end.
Server is a skilled writer, and he is at home with this world of alcohol, tough attitudes and European exile. Rooney, Sinatra and the bullfighter come across pretty well, too (Rooney is exactly as you’d imagine he would be like – a sex-mad ball of energy); Shaw comes across as a prig, as does Joe Mankiewicz.
Interestingly, the most serious men in Ava’s life – Rooney, Shaw, Hughes, Sinatra, the bullfighter – were all legends in their own fields: maybe you needed to be famous to have the confidence to have a crack at Ava (though later in life it seemed to be enough to simply be young and handsome). I didn’t think Frank Sinatra was the great love of her life – I think she was the great passionate love of his, he was devoted, but she fobbed him off; she did like to think of him, but I think she enjoyed the emotion of suffering more than any real love (they had plenty of opportunities to get back together and never really used them – I think they enjoyed being ex’s too much).
Ava was a shy girl who, gradually, with the aid of alcohol and some innate thing in her character, learned to embrace her own legend and ended up living the life of Ava Gardner – which was, like a Tennessee Williams character, really, only in a Williams comedy rather than a tragedy.
What made Ava run? She obviously liked sex and alcohol – the former was something she seems to have been made for (she made every man who came into contact with her something of a nervous blabbering wreck, even Frank Sinatra - with the possible exception of Artie Shaw), the latter helped cover her insecurities, and then she simply got hooked. She was simply sex on legs, something her films convey but obviously was nothing compared to real life. My first impressions of her were from 70s disaster films, were she wasn’t much chop – but check her out in those late 40s films – she’s amazing.
Server has a great deal of affection for his subject, who seems like she was mad but a great deal of fun, especially after only a few drinks; he points out that she behaved very badly on set in the 60s (her professionalism seemed to vanish over night once she was free of a long term MGM contract). She was so crazy even the Spaniards got sick of her (she lived there for a time). She calmed down towards the end of the decade but still lived pretty hard towards the end.
Server is a skilled writer, and he is at home with this world of alcohol, tough attitudes and European exile. Rooney, Sinatra and the bullfighter come across pretty well, too (Rooney is exactly as you’d imagine he would be like – a sex-mad ball of energy); Shaw comes across as a prig, as does Joe Mankiewicz.
Interestingly, the most serious men in Ava’s life – Rooney, Shaw, Hughes, Sinatra, the bullfighter – were all legends in their own fields: maybe you needed to be famous to have the confidence to have a crack at Ava (though later in life it seemed to be enough to simply be young and handsome). I didn’t think Frank Sinatra was the great love of her life – I think she was the great passionate love of his, he was devoted, but she fobbed him off; she did like to think of him, but I think she enjoyed the emotion of suffering more than any real love (they had plenty of opportunities to get back together and never really used them – I think they enjoyed being ex’s too much).
Ava was a shy girl who, gradually, with the aid of alcohol and some innate thing in her character, learned to embrace her own legend and ended up living the life of Ava Gardner – which was, like a Tennessee Williams character, really, only in a Williams comedy rather than a tragedy.
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