Grace

by Thilo Wydra

  The problems were grounded in the seven-year Algerian War (1954–1962). Many French Algerians fled their country and took their cash with them. However, many of these Algerian refugees did not flee to France but to Monaco. Under President De Gaulle, Giscard d’Estaing was made minister of finance. As publicist Rolf Palm explained, “There was a television interview with Giscard d’Estaing in which he said, ‘I have here several addresses of Frenchmen who allegedly reside in Monaco. Over the past few weeks, I have tried to call them numerous times, and someone has answered. However, I know that they also live in France, in Paris.’ Another cause for French resentment was Monaco’s lack of value-added tax, and the resulting price differences between Monaco and France. There were companies that sold their products all over France but kept their headquarters in Monaco. The French government was losing money, and this furor ramped up over the passing weeks. The ruckus was set aside one year later. At this point, a new French-Monegasque accord went into effect, and a value-added tax was introduced at the same rate as in France. However, Monaco was allowed to keep the tax monies. Thus, the main point was that the price difference no longer existed. It was also said that the Vatican played a role in the drafting of the French-Monegasque accord. At the time, the Monegasque Minister of Finance was Louis Notari, who was 5’1’’, and the two Frenchmen, Giscard d’Estaing and De Gaulle, each about 6’6’’, were said to have been somewhat bamboozled by the little guy.”344

  Prince Rainier felt that he was forced to make concessions to France. During this difficult time, he purposely did not leave the country. On short notice, he convened Parliament and proposed a new constitution, which he signed on December 17, 1962. With the permission of the French government, the constitution was announced, and in its opening paragraph, “the sovereignty and independence of the principality” was affirmed and its territory was declared “inalienable.”345 He also called for an election that October, and for the first time in Monaco, women were given the right to vote, a measure that the princess had also long endorsed. Again, she functioned as a good figure for Rainier to have at his side in negotiating with France; as she had at the previous official state visits, she again captured the admiration of the French President. De Gaulle and his wife had received the Monegasque royal couple in Paris at the Élysée Palace in 1959, and in October 1960, they in turn made an official visit to Monaco. Despite his pronounced anti-Americanism, the President of the Fifth Republic seemed quite impressed by Her Royal Highness Princess Grace. As Thomas Veszelits recalled, “She was a wonderful link between all things French, De Gaulle, and Onassis. Here she stood up for Prince Rainier and helped him greatly in the negotiations.”346

  Finally, on May 18, 1963, the French-Monegasque accord was signed in Paris and immediately went into effect. The legal framework substantially resolved most of the previous differences between the two countries. The concerns about the financial issues were answered: the French residents of Monaco would be taxed according to the French tax laws. The Monegasque and the residents of other nationalities would not be. In terms of the fiscal authorities, it would no longer matter if a French citizen resided in the principality or in the Grande Nation. “The solution was very advantageous for Monaco, except for the French who lived there. Now they had to pay taxes to France.”347 In addition, President De Gaulle and his Minister of Finance d’Estaing no longer had to worry that other French companies would move their headquarters to the principality, since they would no longer profit from any tax advantages.

  “As such, Monaco with all of its privileges was untouched, thanks to this agreement, which the Vatican helped foster, and thanks to Grace Kelly’s sacrifice to no longer make any films.”348

  On June 18, 1962, Grace Kelly finally sat down at her desk in the palace and wrote a personal letter to Alfred Hitchcock. In this, she asked her respected director and longtime friend, her creative mentor, for his understanding of her decision to not take the role in Marnie. The letter from Grace to Hitch was written in her clear, girl-like handwriting, and a typescript of this missive also exists:

  Dear Hitch, It was heartbreaking for me to have to leave the picture . . . I was so excited about doing it and particularly about working with you again . . . When we meet I would like to explain to you myself all of the reasons which is difficult to do by letter or through a third party . . . It is unfortunate that it had to happen this way and I am deeply sorry. Thank you dear Hitch for being so understanding and helpful. I hate disappointing you . . . I also hate the fact that there are probably many other “cattle” who could play the part equally as well. Despite that I hope to remain one of your “sacred cows.” With deep affection, Grace.349

  And Hitchcock responded. He wrote Grace back one week later, showing the greatest understanding for her difficult rejection and even supporting her decision. He signed his handwritten letter to Grace, as always, with “Hitch”: “Dear Grace, Yes, it was sad, wasn’t it? I was looking forward so much to the fun and pleasure of our doing a picture again. Without a doubt, I think you made, not only the best decision, but the only one. After all, it was ‘only a movie.’ Alma joins me in sending our most fond and affectionate thoughts for you. Hitch”350

  And thus, Hitch let Grace go for a second time. He had to let her go. He never let her know of his deep disappointment. To the contrary, both longtime friends showed discretion. In their correspondence, there were no accusations, blame, or bitterness. The painful decision to turn down the role, which was not desired by either of them, changed nothing in their friendship. Until Hitchcock’s death in April 1980, they remained fast friends. Two soul mates.

  Instead of Marnie, Alfred Hitchcock turned his attention to The Birds, the most technically advanced film of his entire fifty-year directing career. It was avant garde and innovative, setting a new cinematographic standard. Only at the conclusion of this film did he return to the Marnie project. After a long preproduction phase, and one and half years after Grace left the project, filming of Alfred Hitchcock’s forty-ninth film began in the third week of November 1963.

  The main roles were played by Tippi Hedren as Marnie Edgar and Sean Connery as Mark Rutland. Before this final casting, Hitchcock had an option for a while on Rock Hudson. In the spring of 1962, Grace Kelly and Rock Hudson had been announced in the main roles of Marnie. Both Hollywood Reporter and Variety, two of the traditional film industry periodicals, had published this casting in May 1962.351 This occurred during the transitional period of the project, two months after Grace’s acceptance and one month prior to her cancellation. Also, the option on Rock Hudson eventually ran out. The main roles had to be completely recast.

  The Scottish actor Sean Connery was extremely popular at this time, thanks to the James Bond series based on the novels by British author Ian Fleming. He had previously starred in the films Dr. No (1962) and From Russia with Love (1963). Directly after Marnie, Connery went on to star in Goldfinger (1964), arguably the most popular and perhaps best of the Bond films. While filming Marnie, pronounced tensions developed between the director and his (ersatz) main actress Hedren. Sometimes they would only communicate with each other through a third person or by written notes.

  After both outstanding, previous works, Psycho and The Birds, which count as two of his finest creations and which are timeless in their influence, Marnie was the start of years of creative and commercial failures for Hitchcock. Torn Curtain, Topaz, and Family Plot were great disappointments and represent the swan song for a great oeuvre of fifty-three films. Only Frenzy was the exception. He made plans for three other projects that were never completed: The Three Hostages, which was based on a novel by John Buchan, who had also written The Thirty-Nine Steps (1935); Mary Rose, for which Tippi Hedren was to be cast for a third and final time; and R.R.R.R.

  Not insignificantly, Marnie marked the last time that Hitchcock would work with several longtime coworkers: his cinematographer Robert Burks, his composer Bernard Herrmann, his cutter George Tomasini, and production designer Robert B
oyle. Tragically, Burks, who had directed the photography for twelve of Hitchcock’s films, died along with his wife in a house fire. This was a bitter loss for Hitchcock. Tomasini died around the same time as well. If one counts his advisory position for The Birds, Hermann was responsible for the music of eight Hitchcock films. Ultimately, Hitchcock had a falling out with Hermann over the composing of the score for Torn Curtain. The studio demanded music that was more commercial in nature than what Herrmann composed. The director fired his longtime composer and friend, and replaced him, under pressure from Universal-MCA, with John Addison. On a personal level, this was a tragic development due to misunderstandings that existed on both sides. Finally, Marnie was Hitchock’s last collaboration with Robert Doyle. With the falling away of these central coworkers, Hitchcock suddenly found himself working almost alone. The most essential positions on his staff had to be newly filled, however there simply was no second Robert Burks or second Bernard Herrmann. These were among the most critical columns in the “House of Hitchcock.” The difficult time before and after Marnie comprised a distinctly disappointing period in Hitchcock’s life and work.

  For almost a month, the Hitchcocks vacationed in Europe, traveling to Italy, Yugoslavia, and Monaco, where they dined with Princess Grace and Prince Rainier. The Hitchcocks also traveled to Paris where they visited Ingrid Bergman and where Hitchcock agreed to make himself available for François Truffaut’s planned fifty-hour interview about his films and artistry. At the conclusion of the European trip came a city tour through the United States to advertise Marnie. Hitchcock gave interviews in New York, Washington, and Chicago. Afterward, when the film opened in theaters in July 1964 and the press was united in its negative reaction, for several weeks, he was not seen either on the Universal studio lot or in his bungalow office. He never coped well with failures. The reception of Marnie on the heels of his previous film triumphs and the personal dilemma with Tippi Hedren, thus, represented a bigger, in some ways double defeat: an emotional defeat as well as a creative-professional one. And then there was, of course, the commercial failure for Universal Studios.

  At the time, the critics claimed that Marnie “in its setting, seemed to be a more antiquated type of Hitchcock film with psychoanalytical ambitions. It was cool, and in general, it lacked tension, despite its sophisticated use of color.”352 This perspective is now considered outdated; it has since been revised. Today, Marnie is recognized as one of Hitchcock’s more important films. The drama is full of both explicit and subtly subversive psychological elements linked to dreams and hallucinations. Freudian symbolism permeates the entire film: Marnie always rides her horse Forio whenever she has stolen something (it is also no accident that she shoots him after a riding accident); her handbag—the first image of the film—is one of her most important tools; various storm scenes with thunder and lightning are explosive with meaning. The narration is poetically dreamy, unstructured, and elliptical, mosaic-like. Contemporary critics accused Hitchcock of the supposedly dilettantish style of the film, such as the easily recognizable background projections against which Marnie rides her horse (in Universal Studios) or the clearly painted backdrop of the harbor landscape on the other side of the street on which her mother’s house sits. These are the exact elements that today would be interpreted as intentional metaphors for allegoric fantasies. In Marnie, just as in To Catch a Thief, theft functions as a replacement for love. Some of the scenes in Marnie have an indefinable, latent undertow and a strong, attractive power. The use of color in Robert Burks’s camera work—specifically the use of red—is just as noticeable as the edited montage footage; the loaded drama of Bernard Hermann’s hypnotic music resembles the romantic score in Vertigo. In addition to Hitchcock’s earlier work Spellbound (1945), about which the master himself once said, “I wanted to make the first psychoanalytic film,”353 during the early 1960s, Marnie was one of the few explicit film treatments of Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalysis.

  When Truffault asked Hitch what about Marnie appealed to him, he answered, “The fetish idea. A man wants to go to bed with a thief because she is a thief, just like other men have a yen for a Chinese or a colored woman.”354 Hitchcock’s commentaries on his own films were always oversimplifications characterized by his smug understatements. (He once described Psycho offhand as a “lighthearted comedy.”)

  Of course one cannot help but wonder: What would Alfred Hitchcock’s Marnie have been like if Grace Kelly had been its star?

  1976–1982

  The Final Years: Future Plans

  She was actually the opposite of all that her external image would have had you believe. In her social interactions, she was very uncomplicated, laid-back. The opposite of the unapproachable, cold woman from whom one had to shy away.

  —Robert Dornhelm, Director and Friend355

  The final six years of Princess Grace’s life were defined by the return of her creativity. She found her life finally had some room again for film, as well as the worlds of the theater and literature.

  “Slowly the gilded cage began to open a little for her so that she could do more. She could no longer make major motion pictures, but slowly she could breathe again—the children were all more or less grown. She wanted to be involved in creative things of various kinds.”356

  During the second half of the 1970s, Grace performed various poetry readings on stage, traveling in both the United States and England. She was seen in Philadelphia and Washington, in Princeton and Harvard. Conceptualized by John Carroll, one of her programs was called “Birds, Beasts, & Flowers,” and she did the readings along with Richard Pasco. Grace also made recordings of this program for both record and cassette. She recited Walt Whitman and D.H. Lawrence, William Blake and Shakespeare, Thomas Hardy and Edward Lear. She was happy about this step, even if it could not come close in comparison to the continuation of her acting career, for which she so longed.

  In 1976, Grace met the twenty-nine-year-old Robert Dornhelm. The young director had just completed the work on his film documentary, The Children of Theatre Street (1977). Robert Dornhelm had been born on December 17, 1947. His parents moved with him to Vienna when he was thirteen years old. He grew up there. Today, the director Robert Dornhelm divides his time between Los Angeles and the small town of Mougins, located just north of Cannes.

  The first meeting between Grace Kelly and Robert Dornhelm took place in Paris:

  I was going into the CBS studio with a roll of film under my arm. I was filing a copy in the editing room, and there she was with one of Prince Rainier’s aunts, a Russian princess, a very wealthy, funny lady. Thus, we sat in the editing room of the CBS office in Paris, around the corner from the Champs-Élysées, and I showed her my film. The question was, if she liked it, could she imagine doing the spoken introduction as the narrator for the film. During the viewing, I noted that she was tickled pink by the film. She laughed, and was delighted and excited by these children. After the viewing, she spontaneously invited me to her house. Champagne was opened, and she said: “I will do it.” It was incredible, and it made her very happy. It was exactly what she was searching for. She had even opened a ballet school in Monte Carlo, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo. This connection afforded a good reason for her participation. She decided on the spot that I should come to Monte Carlo the following week in order to discuss everything.

  There I walked around in jeans and a blazer, and this was during Fête Nationale (also known as Bastille Day), during which everyone wears their jewels and medals. I did not trust myself to join her in the loge, which is where she had invited me. I was completely underdressed. Intimidated, I sank myself into an armchair, hoping that no one would notice me. Then, a butler tapped me on the shoulder and said: “The Princess is waiting for you.” Thus, with red cheeks, I had to make my way through the pompous, ornamented gentlemen, and they made fun of how I looked like a fish out of water. Afterward, she told me she sympathized with how I felt completely out of place. At the same time, she was amused. She felt sorry fo
r me but not in a negative sense. And she felt closer to me than to all those other men, because she could tell that I was based in reality. Everything else here was about money. This is how we got to know each other.357

  After this initial meeting, the yet-to-be-filmed opening scenes of the documentary were filmed with Grace. She set up the contextual framework for the legendary St. Petersburg Kirov Ballet and its school, the Vaganova Ballet Academy. The filming took place in Monaco and Paris, including a stunning location on the roof of the Paris Palais Garnier opera house.

  “Then suddenly, we were one week away from filming. And I asked her: ‘Your Serene Highness, how should I address you on set? Another take, could you now look to the right, Serene Highness?’ And she said: ‘What about if you call me Grace?’ Then I said that I could not do that. I could not simply say: ‘Come on, Grace, one more take. The last one sucked.’ Or what? And she said: ‘Yes, that’s exactly what you say. Hopefully it won’t suck.’”358

  During the time before and after the filming of The Children of Theatre Street, Robert Dornhelm came to know Grace Kelly, and because the princess trusted the young director, he experienced her in a very authentic way. Their friendship would last for six years, until her death.

  “I very often saw her happy. She was full of life—she liked to dance, to go out, to eat well. Occasionally, she liked to drink but only socially, if she was at a party and felt merry. It was absolutely not true that she drank every day. To the contrary, one year she did not have a drink for two months. This was not a problem for her at all. That was not a major concern. Such romantically inclined people as her are, by nature, plagued with melancholy and are dreamy. They always dream about that which they do not have. Even though she had much and she was aware and thankful of that. However, to say that she was happy . . . There was always a certain melancholy there, a degree of sadness. That was the Irish in her. Of course, she had a joyful nature, but she was often tormented by insecurity and nostalgia . . .”359