Diana Ross: A Biography

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  Out of darkness … but not quite

  In 1993, Diana Ross signed what was said to be a three-picture deal with ABC-TV and then starred in her first made-for-television movie. With the exception of her 1987 musical special, Red Hot Rhythm and Blues in which she had played a fictitious legendary R&B singer in an extended sequence, the public hadn’t seen Diana act since The Wiz, nearly sixteen years earlier. Out Of Darkness was written especially for her and proved to be a tour de force that some say actually surpassed her Academy Award–nominated performance in Lady Sings the Blues. In Darkness Diana plays medical student Paulie Cooper, who, as a young adult, develops paranoid schizophrenia. For eighteen years she is in and out of hospitals, on dozens of medications and completely dependent on family members, who are driven to the brink of insanity themselves with her illness. Eventually a new treatment proves to be effective and her life slowly begins to once again take shape. The producers, Andrew Adelson and George W. Perkins, pitched the concept to Diana based on an idea from a newspaper article. She found the subject intriguing and did a great deal of research on schizophrenia before working on the film, spending time with mental patients and their families in order that she might understand such a struggle and the courage it takes to get through it. Out of Darkness aired on ABC-TV in January 1994.

  Comparisons to Lady are obvious as we watch a very unglamorous Ross going berserk in the street, thrashing uncontrollably while strapped to a hospital bed and, in some scenes, literally foaming at the mouth. In one scene she had a breakdown on a public street, simulating being naked at the time. It was tough work, and she knew from past experiences that the only way to get through it would be to throw herself into it completely. She sent the boys to be with Arne in Switzerland while she made the movie so that they didn’t have to be upset by her mood swings brought about by the emotionally taxing work.

  When she first met with the director, Larry Elikann, he told Diana, “You know, this role is not about Armani clothes.” She couldn’t help but be annoyed. “Oh please, get out of here,” she told him. Had this man not seen Lady Sings the Blues? Anyway, she’d been preparing for Out of Darkness for a year before Elikann even came into the project, so the last thing she needed to hear was his cynicism. At one point, he asked her what the biggest problem would be with her doing this film. She snapped back, “You!” Eventually, the two found a way to work together, though, and he did help bring what would turn out to be one of her best performances to the screen.

  As convincing as Diana is in the broad and physically challenging scenes of Out of Darkness, it is during the subtle, tender moments when she reveals herself as a mature and sensitive actress. Some of the movie is agonizing to watch—Ross is excruciatingly honest in her powerful portrayal of the horrors of schizophrenia. It’s definitely worth seeing.

  It seemed to her fans that Diana was back with a vengeance with Out of Darkness—for which she was an executive producer—once again a contender for some great film roles. But, alas, this was not to be the case. One can’t help but wonder why an actress of her caliber isn’t sought after by every film producer in Hollywood.

  True, it’s much more difficult for a black woman of a certain age to work consistently in one quality film after another. However, it seems impossible to imagine that in over thirty years Diana Ross has made only three motion pictures and two teleplays. Is she such a difficult diva that film executives would simply rather not deal with her? In the 1980s, it did seem that she complicated a number of projects by demanding complete control over them. However, her track record also indicates that once they finally had a chance to work with her, directors were impressed by her professionalism. Lady Sings the Blues director Sidney Furie said repeatedly that she had been incredible on his set and that there was no one else like her. Mahogany’s Tony Richardson had also enjoyed working with her and sang her praises in many interviews, despite his falling-out with Berry. The Wiz’s Sidney Lumet called her one of the finest actresses with whom he has ever worked. Could it be that her quest for perfection combined with a fear of making the wrong choices have prevented her from moving forward with viable movie projects? If this is the case, perhaps such fears are not without some justification, as proved when she stepped in front of the TV cameras again for 1999’s Double Platinum.

  In Double Platinum, Diana played singer Olivia King, who has abandoned her baby, Kayla, in order to pursue a career in show business. Eighteen years later, after becoming a world-renowned superstar, she attempts to reclaim her daughter. Once again this was a vehicle written especially for Ross, the idea of a mother–daughter project having been brought to her by producers Neil Meron and Craig Zadan. The two had done some terrific TV projects in the past, including Gypsy with Bette Midler. (They would soon become a force in film, bringing Chicago, the long-running Broadway musical, to the silver screen.) For Kayla they suggested twenty-year-old Brandy, with whom they had worked when they starred her in a TV remake of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. By this time Brandy had had six consecutive pop hits and had won a Grammy for her 1998 self-penned song “The Boy is Mine” (released as a duet with R&B singer Monica). She was also the star of her own sitcom, Moesha. Although Diana wasn’t immediately familiar with Brandy’s work, after doing some research on her she felt she would be a good choice to play her daughter.

  It’s interesting—and maybe Diana doesn’t even remember it—but Berry Gordy had a very similar idea for a theatrical film in 1976 and wrote a script for it along with Shelly Berger, Chris Clark and Motown executive Carol Caruso. It was called Stars and was to feature Lena Horne, who gave up her child—played by Diana—in order to have a career on Broadway. When Diana grows up to become a successful recording artist, Lena hears about her and decides that she now wants to get closer to her, so she asks her to audition for the second lead in her next Broadway show. Of course, Diana gets the job—and then Lena tells her that—“Guess what?”—she’s her mother. Emotional chaos ensues. The film never got off the ground, though. Too bad.

  For a few months after she was presented with Double Platinum, Diana wasn’t happy with the script. Though she wanted to commit, she wouldn’t do so until they came up with something in which she felt she could acquit herself well. She wanted her character to be more sympathetic. For instance, it was her idea to have Olivia at least try to get in touch with Kayla numerous times over the years, only to have her bitter ex-husband withhold her letters and identity.

  “I knew all about Diana Ross, she’s such a legend,” Brandy explained.

  The most difficult things for me to do were all the yelling scenes about her leaving me, and there were so many of them. I had to tell her after every single scene, “Miss Ross, I am so sorry; I don’t mean to do this to you,” because her face was just so hurt. She was very nurturing. One day she pulled me aside and she said, “Brandy I need to talk to you. The chewing gum? It’s just not attractive.” She stood there with her hand open. I said, “Okay,” and I took it out and just handed it to her. I mean we had the mother–daughter thing down pat.

  The two appeared on Oprah Winfrey’s show in May 1999 to promote the film, at Oprah’s urging. In fact, when Oprah heard about Double Platinum, she personally telephoned Bob Eiger, head of ABC, and asked him to help her put the two together for an hour-long appearance, she was that excited about the film. Ross and Brandy performed “Love Is All That Matters” from the movie as a duet on Oprah’s show in May 1999. “I love you, baby,” Diana said to Brandy as the audience applauded the number. “I love you, too, Miss Ross,” she responded.

  The movie was broadcast on ABC-TV in May 1999. This time reviews were mixed, often dismissing the film as an extended soap opera that might have played better as a Lifetime channel television movie for women (and, eventually, it did!). But, once again, Ross’s reviews were positive. She stated publicly that she still wasn’t very happy with the final script, but she did rise above the material and actually turned in another fine, multileveled performance. Truly, Dian
a possesses an undeniable charisma onscreen that makes even the most mediocre material still seem engaging; she’s really very good in Double Platinum.

  It’s a shame that in today’s Hollywood so many seem to have forgotten that Diana Ross helped to open the doors for black actresses. Yes, there were others before her but she crossed every barrier and became the first bona fide, bankable, black film actress in the history of motion pictures. Throughout the 1970s and before she had even made her third film, she and Barbra Streisand were the only two women on the list of the top ten film stars in the country. And, for a few years even after her last release, she continued to be nominated as favorite actress at the People’s Choice Awards.

  Her own peers have not been quite as acknowledging of her accomplishments. She received a Golden Globe nomination for Out of Darkness—a nice victory for her—but was overlooked that year at the Emmy awards. In 2004, when Halle Berry became the first black actress to win a Best Actress Oscar, she thanked literally every single black woman who has ever been nominated for an Academy Award—except for, arguably, the biggest star of them all, Diana Ross. Even if the slight wasn’t intentional, Diana felt the sting. Why? “Because I was nominated for an Academy Award for what I did in Lady Sings the Blues. And if it hadn’t been for what I did, maybe she wouldn’t be standing there getting an Academy Award. Not that she had to say anything, but I just wondered if they forgot. Or why? Just a little reminder. It wouldn’t be so bad.” Though she has recently said that she doesn’t believe there are any films in her near future, her fans still hold onto the hope that another great screen success is yet to come. She has more than proved that she can carry a picture, but perhaps a role in an ensemble film could remind the industry that she is not just a star personality, but a gifted actress who still has much to offer.

  Diana’s marriage to Arne in trouble

  By the end of the 1990s, Diana Ross’s career had somehow lost its luster. She was still a major concert draw, but her recent recordings didn’t generate much interest. It wasn’t that the recordings were inferior; they really weren’t. But, without Berry at the helm Motown was just another record label now, and certainly Diana deserved better than to be stuck there with no friends or alliances—even Suzanne dePasse was long gone from the company.

  Her 1995 release Take Me Higher had held great promise; it was a strong effort and she’d never sounded better, actually. She was working with hot, young producers and several of the songs had hit potential. The company claimed that it spent a fortune promoting the first single, the title track. When it didn’t hit, Diana was told, there was nothing more budgeted for the project. Then in 1999 she released Every Day Is a New Day, an autobiographical album that was really quite sad in content. At this time she was having trouble in her marriage to Arne, and most of the songs reflected those problems. “I was almost in an emotional breakdown in my life when I did that album,” she would recall in 2004. Once again, some rift between her and Motown kept the company from promoting the music. Too bad. Another good record was wasted.

  The problems with Arne were obviously much more troubling to Diana than any she was having in her career. Actually, the two seemed at cross-purposes almost from the beginning of their marriage. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. He did. But he was more used to a woman he could manage and dominate. His first wife, Filippa, for instance, was pretty much under his rule. Diana just would not allow herself to be that subservient to any man, at least not at this time in her life.

  For instance, Arne wanted Diana to relocate, move to Europe so that he could continue his many businesses there. He wanted them to live in Norway. However, she was adamant that she didn’t want to leave the States. She told him that she wasn’t going to trade her family—her girls—for his. Moreover, she and his children did not always get along. She was surprised that they didn’t easily accept her since she usually gets along with young ones, but they didn’t. They loved their mother and were not eager to accept Diana, so that caused more stress for everyone. Diana and Arne were at a crisis in their marriage almost from day one, and it went on year after year, never really resolving. “He is not my focus,” Diana told writer Rodney Tyler of Arne. “He’s my husband, my companion, my lover, my confidant. But not my focus. I wasn’t lost, then found by Arne. I was single and met a wonderful man and we enjoyed each other’s company and enjoyed our times together. So it was not lost and found. That’s crap. I have never been lost.”

  At one point, Arne acquiesced to Diana and tried to run his affairs from New York. He was miserable. Finally, they decided that he would have to live in Europe, and she would live in the States and they would just hope for the best. Those living arrangements then went on for years. It was difficult on Arne—since he was also leaving their two sons with Diana, but more so on Diana, who was now raising five children on her own. Arne had always been an independent soul. He could get along just fine on his own and, in a sense, Diana was exactly the same way. She longed for a stable home life with a man, yet there was still something pulling at her to maintain her independence, to not rearrange her entire life and career in order to follow Arne to a country in which she truly did not want to reside. Obviously, this determination to maintain her freedom was, in part, a consequence of having once felt so totally engulfed by Berry Gordy. Her relationship with him had taken such an incontestable toll on her heart and psyche, she would never allow similar dominance to again occur in her life.

  Moreover, if one considers Diana Ross’s life and times, it becomes clear that she was never the kind of person to play a subservient role, whether at home with her father, Fred, or even as a member of the Supremes. She wasn’t going to start now, with Arne. Therefore, her fourteen years with Arne Naess would be characterized by extreme frustration as she tried to find a way to adjust to a marital situation that simply could never really work. She missed him terribly while he was gone, was lonely for him and wondered if he felt the same way. It bothered her knowing that the boys were growing up without the constant presence of their father. It seemed unfair to them, and to her. True, Arne wrote long and passionate letters to her while he was gone and, certainly, no man in her life had ever been more eloquent about his feelings for her. But was it enough? “Living like this is becoming more and more difficult,” she said in the mid-1990s. “We’ll see what the future brings.” It’s almost as if she knew what their fate would be; she was just putting it off for as long as possible.

  T-Boy dies

  Diana Ross’s brother Chico had had his recent challenges with drugs and was still dealing with them in 1996 when another even more terrible tragedy struck the Ross family. In June 1996, Diana’s brother T-Boy and his wife of ten months, Patricia Ann, were found dead in a run-down Oak Park, Michigan, home not far from the Brewster Projects.

  Somehow during the years, forty-seven-year-old T-Boy had lost his way, even after writing a hit record for Marvin Gaye (“I Want You”) and recording his own album for Motown in 1978 called Changes. I interviewed him that year, when he was promoting the record. He was a completely disarming young man. After I met him, he sent me a five-page letter in his own hand detailing his dreams and ambitions for the future, “in case you want to add any of this to your story.” However, when the album was not successful, the label dropped him from its roster. He then began to feel that he would always be in his famous sister’s shadow, even though he did have a college education and could have done a lot with his life. Over time, his unhappiness with his life and career ate away at him and he apparently became addicted to cocaine. When I interviewed him again in 1983, he was a completely different person—bitter and unhappy. He was living, at the time, at Diana’s home on Maple Drive with her assistant John Mackey.

  “He was a super guy, really, but he could never measure up to the Diana Ross image,” said Mackey.

  He made himself suffer, playing out the role of the black sheep of the family. Maybe that is the only way he knew to get away from his sister’s shadow. He had a drug an
d drinking problem while at Maple that was really a problem. He adored Diana, though. Now and then, he would wax nostalgic about when he was a kid and she would have the whole family come to one of the Supremes’ shows. Afterwards, backstage, she would hand out envelopes to everyone with money in them. She would say, “One for you, and one for you, and one for you,” all the way down the line. But throughout his life, I think, he got used to getting handouts from her.

  The Ross family would always remember the way Diana came to T-Boy’s aid early in 1969 when he was about twenty. He had gone to Bessemer, Alabama, to visit relatives. He was in a convenience store making a purchase and he gave the clerk a twenty-dollar bill. The clerk had no change, so he decided to just keep all of the money. When T-Boy complained, the store employee pulled a knife on him and then called the police. As soon as the authorities showed up, they started beating T-Boy without asking any questions. This was the South. As all of this was going on, T-Boy’s aunt happened upon the scene—an elderly woman—and when she began to protest what was going on, the cops pushed her to the ground. Of course, T-Boy became irate about such treatment of his relative and got into a physical altercation with one of the cops. In retaliation, the other one pulled out his gun and took a shot at T-Boy, the bullet grazing his head and shattering one of the store’s windows. Then, the officers took the bleeding young man to jail.