Vivien Leigh

by Anne Edwards

  When it was all over Vivien got up and walked with a regal composure from the courtroom, but once safely ensconced in the rear seat of the Rolls she leaned back against the fine wool upholstery and sobbed softly as her chauffeur drove her out of sight of gaping onlookers. The proceedings had had a terrible sense of unreality.

  Although she was an independent woman without Larry, she knew the only way for her to survive the future was through self-delusion. Gertrude, Bumble, and Jack were waiting for her at Eaton Square as she walked sobbing into the flat that was now hers alone. She felt warmly comforted by Jack, but it was as though he was helping her through the death of someone close to her and unable to lift her heavy heart, for she could not let go of her grief.

  What saved her from self-pity again was work. Two days before the divorce the announcement had been made that she was to portray Karen Stone, the none-too-successful actress who gives up her career for a life of infatuation with gigolos in The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone.

  A physical examination was required for the company’s insurance and there were some tense moments when the producers thought Vivien might not pass. If this had happened she could not have been cast. But by some miracle she was approved.

  Originally the film was to be shot directly on location in Rome, but the Italian censors were distressed over the content of the script and so it was filmed at Elstree studios not far from London. It was theatre director José Quintero’s first film and he was understandably unnerved. Vivien, made up and in a blond wig for the part of Karen Stone, was the first performer on the set. As she walked across the enormous set, the eyes of all the crew were upon her. There were whispers, but she passed through them with tremendous pride, wearing a leaf-green coat trimmed in silver fox that gave her a regal look. The grips were the first to applaud her, and Vivien raised her arm to them in a queenly fashion. The camera crew and soundmen joined in the welcoming tribute. Vivien bowed. Quintero made his way to her and embraced her, and later remarked that her hands were icy. She had not made a film since The Deep Blue Sea in 1955, and she was terrified.

  “Please, everybody,” Quintero said loudly, holding and warming Vivien’s hands in his. “I know that it is customary to make a speech at the beginning of a picture or on the first day of play rehearsals. Usually that speech is supposed to be inspiring and its purpose to give confidence to everyone working with you from the start. But here stands a director who doesn’t even know when to call action and when to call cut.”

  Vivien then stepped forward and free of his grasp, shouted to the crew, “We are with him, aren’t we all?” A resounding “Yes!” echoed through the soundstage.

  She and Jack maintained separate flats, but they were together almost constantly when Vivien wasn’t shooting. In a letter she dated February 23, she wrote him:

  In fact my darling love it is the 26th and what does that matter when this should have been written on February 14th—St. Valentine’s Day. It really only matters that I love you. Thank you dear dear one—you have made what is nearly a year now—a time of happiness that I never thought possible. My very best and most beloved of Angels I hope you will look back on it with gladness too—you are so closely precious to me and I love you sweet darling Jack—

  Your Vivien

  I do love my lilac today and thank you for it.

  Though she loved Jack, her emotions were still torn between him and Larry, who was appearing in New York in Becket, only a few streets from where Joan Plowright was playing in A Taste of Honey. Rumors were circulating that the two were planning to wed soon, and Vivien became convinced that she must see Larry before he married. The plan to preview a new wide-screen version of Gone With the Wind in Atlanta in mid-March gave her just the excuse she needed. Roman Spring was in the last two weeks of filming, which meant it would be delayed by her absence if she went.

  Quintero and Vivien had become good friends, Quintero often returning to Eaton Square after the day’s shooting with Vivien—or to a local pub called The Purple Apple. “Do a few lines from Gone With the Wind,” he would often ask her.

  “Fiddle-dee-dee, fiddle-dee-dee, Melanie,” Vivien would say, falling into a Southern accent as she pretended to mark up purchases on a cash register, “even if they are Yankees!”

  “Oh, José,” she begged when she heard about the Atlanta “preview,” “the only ones who are left are Olivia and myself. I haven’t seen Atlanta in over twenty years. I know it may delay you one or two days but you can shoot some of the scenes with Warren [Beatty] or Lotte [Lenya]. Oh, José, darling, please.”

  Quintero suspected the truth and tried to dissuade her, but it was no good, so he reluctantly agreed to let her take the time off. “Please don’t harm yourself,” he warned her.

  “Thank you, dear José.” She smiled gratefully, and a few days later she was on her way.

  Mr. Jack Merivale

  6 Sloane Gardens

  London, SW1, England

  March 8th, ’61

  My darling—they have handed me this nice little pad of writing paper and I can think of nothing I want to do more than to write to you on it. We are stationary in the sun before take-off—I did love your telegram and have read it 4 times already—thank you my dear sweet love for your thoughtfiilness. We had a swift drive to the airport with poor Mr. M.G.M. [studio representative] very nervous. Arrived in good time—Trudie [her housekeeper] and I had a small brandy or at least ½ of one (I think Bernard [her chauffeur] polished off the remainder) and here we are. A pretty stewardess has just shown us what to do with life jackets—oh, my dear—I shall miss you—keep safe and well—I will look forward to hearing your voice tonight. Thank you too for my lovely-scented present. Darling, we are just taking off now. We are coming down at Shannon where I am going to get some Ma Griffe perfume because it is so economical to buy it at an airfield! (Tell Bumble) We are in the air now. I shall post this in Ireland— I kiss you, my darling dear— I hope at whatever time of the day this reaches you it finds you happy and well—feeling fondly towards your loving—demanding (I know) but above all loving—Angelica.

  But in New York Olivier agreed only to see her when he was accompanied by Joan and at a public place. This came as a great blow to Vivien. Olivier perhaps assumed that such an ultimatum would cause Vivien to change her mind about the meeting. But he underestimated Vivien’s tremendous determination to see him under any circumstances. He booked a table at Sardi’s and Vivien agreed to meet them at the restaurant. She dressed as carefully for the appointment as a woman might for a first rendezvous with a prospective lover and allowed enough time for Olivier and Plowright to have been seated. It was early, before curtain time, Sardi’s was packed to capacity, and Vivien did not have an easy time as she was led to their table. The lovers faced her, seated close together. Olivier rose but did not come around the table to greet her. Vivien sat down stiffly across from the man who had been her husband and the great love of her life and whom she still worshiped. It was almost impossible for her to shift her glance so that it would take in the woman he had chosen to replace her. When she finally did look at Joan she flinched. Joan Plowright was exceedingly plain, with a nice enough face but certainly not one that would make heads turn as they had just done for Vivien when she entered Sardi’s.

  Before theatre curtain time the noise decibel level in Sardi’s is high and the packed tables are jammed close together, making privacy almost impossible. It was not an easy place to hold a private conversation, and perhaps that was intentional on Olivier’s part. In this bustling and impersonal atmosphere Olivier broke the news to Vivien that he and Joan were to be married in a few days’ time. He took Joan’s hand in his for strength and she smiled at him with adoration. They did not dawdle over dinner or wait for coffee. Less than an hour later Sir Laurence Olivier and the future and second Lady Olivier escorted the first Lady Olivier out of Sardi’s and saw her to a taxi.

  Brokenhearted, Vivien boarded the plane the next morning for Atlanta with her old friend Radie
Harris. They stopped at the Georgian Terrace Hotel, where she and Olivier and Gable and all the stars of Gone With the Wind had stayed for the first premiere. The hotel now sadly fitted her mood. It was aging badly and much of its glamour was fading. Jack was her only hope for the future, and she clung to the thought of him constantly and wrote him as often as she could.

  To Mr. John Merivale

  6 Sloane Gardens

  London, SW1, England

  Friday 10 Mar ’61

  My Angel Darling

  Just somehow I did not get around to writing this last night because I was in real late! And just fell into bed—but sent you waves of love just the same. This morning there is brilliant sunshine and we are on our way to Aunt Fanny’s Cabin (if you please) for a brunch—then somewhere for lunch perhaps—then bed for a little lay down before Eugene does my hair for tonight and at 5 my sweet we shall talk—this is only a line to tell you I love you—

  Angelica.

  She quite enjoyed the film but thought the gala “preview” was a rather sad idea. Margaret Mitchell, Gable, Lombard, Fleming, Leslie Howard, and Hattie McDaniel had all died; and Vivien and Olivia were, though certainly still beautiful ladies, middle aged. Nevertheless the new wide-screen version of the film was even more spectacular than the original.

  Vivien returned to London on March 17, and two days later the news broke that Joan and Larry had been married in a simple ceremony and feted at a party at Richard Burton’s New York apartment (Burton was appearing in Camelot) after all three had completed their evening performances in different theatres.

  The press were waiting for Vivien when she came home from the studio the day Olivier rewed. “You know it happened this morning in New York? Do you have anything to say?” they asked.

  Vivien had not heard the news yet and she looked puzzled. “About what?”

  “Sir Laurence and Miss Plowright were married this morning.”

  For a split second Vivien lost her footing, and Quintero, who was by her side, grabbed her arm and steadied her. Then Vivien straightened, threw back her head, and gave the reporters a perfect Scarlett smile. “Of course I knew it, and when I went to New York I wished them all the happiness in the world,” she declared.

  The four weeks before her work on Roman Spring was complete was a difficult time for her. She did not get along with Beatty, whom she found arrogant and uncooperative, and she had a painful fall from a horse after refusing to allow a double to do the required shot. The horse, a magnificent chestnut animal, had been ridden by Olivier six years before in Richard III and had been schooled to break into a canter the moment it heard the sound of the clapper board. Vivien was supposed to trot to the far end of a field where there was a tree with a low-hanging bough and a roundabout beyond. This location had been selected because it was symbolic of Mrs. Stone’s own dilemma—an inability to know which path to take in her life. Vivien was a more than competent horsewoman and not at all afraid of her mount. When the clapper board was slapped, the horse took off, heading straight toward the low-lying branch. Vivien leaned forward, pressing her face into the horse’s neck. Even so, the branch tore off her blond wig as it struck the top of her head, knocking her off the horse and stunning her. Miraculously she was not injured. She insisted on remounting the same animal so that the scene could be refilmed. And indeed she got back on and put the horse through its paces so that the shot could be completed before lunch.

  One day she was moved to a new dressing room because the old one had plumbing problems. She entered it for the first time with her housekeeper, Trudi Flockart, who went with her everywhere that Jack could not. In a short time Trudi had become Vivien’s good friend, companion, and secretary as well as her housekeeper. Vivien stood in the doorway of her new quarters with Trudi peering over her shoulder. Vivien’s eyes swept the room, taking everything in in a matter of moments. “Those curtains are dirty,” she said. “I can’t possibly dress in here until they are cleaned.” She shuddered with distaste. “They are disgraceful, in fact.” She sat down and would not budge until Trudi got on the telephone to the front office.

  “Miss Leigh’s dressing-room curtains must be changed for clean ones immediately,” Trudi insisted, “or she simply will not be able to prepare for her next scene.”

  Within minutes fresh curtains were brought from somewhere and the dirty ones removed, and Vivien sat down at her table to make up. There seemed to be no injured feelings, nor did the staff believe she was being difficult. She was a meticulous person who lived by and up to certain standards. Once the clean curtains were up, she was ready to do her job.

  But when the film was completed there was a tremendous sense of letdown. Vivien began to drink again, and those “little signs” began to show. Those close to her were now able to see them. The wildness would come into her eyes. The frivolous, high-spirited, loving woman would disappear and in her place would be a clawing, desperate person.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  During her manic periods Vivien would eat abnormally—sometimes two enormous meals, one immediately after the other—and she would gain a considerable amount of weight in a matter of days. This happened directly after the last day of shooting on The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone. It was a “sign” that Jack now had come to recognize and he got her to Dr. Conachy immediately for a series of ECT’s, which helped to control the attack in a rather early stage. But she had to do something about her weight, since they were leaving shortly on an overseas tour for the Old Vic Company.

  The tour had been decided upon when they had been in Paris for the costume fittings with Balmain, even before The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone had gone into production. They were to visit five Australian cities—Melbourne, Brisbane, Sydney, Adelaide, and Perth—before continuing on to New Zealand to play in Auckland, Christ-church, and Wellington. And as work on the film ended and she began her plans for the tour, her thoughts could not help but zig-zag back and forth from the tour in 1948 that she had made with Larry to the present. There was a sense of unreality to it, something dreamlike. She was going with Jack, who was to appear in all three plays they were doing (Twelfth Night, Duel of Angels, and The Lady of the Camellias); but it did not seem right to her, and the confusion of thoughts between the two periods almost sent her into a serious manic phase.

  After the shock treatment she decided to go to a very discreet reducing spa. She took a little room for a week, starting on a Wednesday. By Friday she rang Jack and told him she was coming home for the weekend and returning on the Monday.

  “Well, my darling,” Jack replied, “if you do that, there goes the two pounds a day you’re losing, because you won’t be able to resist the temptations of wine and good food,” he warned.

  “That’s all nonsense,” she insisted. “I’ve been allowed home and I’m going to be a good girl and follow instructions to the last period.”

  Indeed she was true to her word, eating only lettuce with lemon-juice dressing while everyone else was gorging himself on Trudi’s hearty German cooking. She was disciplined to the extreme, a deep facet of her personality that carried over into everything she did when not manic.

  Before they were due to leave for Australia, Robert Helpmann came up with the idea of extending the tour to include South Africa. This created a good deal of controversy within the troupe. Jack was the most disturbed, positively refusing any thought of such a thing because he was afraid that Vivien, who had absolutely no feelings for differences in people—ethnic or otherwise—and being a very bold woman to boot, would speak her mind out against the political suppression of South African blacks the moment she set foot in the country and that if she entered a manic phase while there, could easily do something that would result in her being jailed.

  Dame Sybil Thorndike, on the other hand, thought they should go—even though she also detested the system—so that the South Africans could be exposed to another point of view. Finally Jack won and the idea of appearing in South Africa was abandoned, though later a decision was mad
e to extend the tour instead to Mexico and South America, a decision that kept the company abroad for over nine months.

  They arrived in Melbourne early in July 1961 and opened at Her Majesty’s Theatre for a six-week engagement on July 12. They stayed at the Hotel Windsor, and while they were preparing to dress for the theatre on opening night Vivien wrote Jack a note on hotel stationery and placed it on his bureau top with a gift box containing a lovely silk ascot.

  Dear dear heart—you are going to have such a wonderful success. I know it and oh how I hope you will be happy in it. I love you and thank God for you. Sweet one my love is all around you—you don’t have to wear this pressie—you know! your proper one will come in a proper place—for pressies I mean! Your Angelica.

  And on July 15 she wrote Ted Tenley, a good friend who had been in the cast of Duel of Angels:

  Dearest Ted,

  The first night was a BEAST. The house very late in coming in because the ladies wanted to be snapped in the foyer. I really thought a pack of Huskies had been let loose in the stalls. There were so many white fur stoles! They sat in uncomprehending restlessness. True monsters! The notices good and the houses since then very fair and impressive, but nothing like that darling U.S.A.!

  Trudi wrote Tenley on July 31, “Twelfth Night goes very well indeed and got good critics. Now we are sweating about Camellia.” She didn’t have to worry, because The Lady of the Camellias was the best-loved play of the tour.

  Vivien was once again treated like visiting royalty, as she had been during the first tour, and expected to make numerous public appearances in addition to her performances. Not only was Jack constantly by her side, but also Trudi and Bobby Helpmann were there to be counted upon, and the most amiable company contained some old and fast friends. There were also flying visits from “Uncle Cecil” and Michael Benthall, the director of the Old Vic. But although everyone’s greatest concern was still for Vivien’s health, amazingly she appeared to have greater vitality and stamina than anyone else in the troupe.