RIP-Winnipeg's Songbird

                     THE ROYAL CANADIAN MOVIE PAGE

 

Deanna Durbin

Winnipeg, Manitoba 1921-Neauphle-le-Chateau, France 2013

I still remember watching Three Smart Girls for the first time. There was a bit of a shiver up the spine when this tiny teenage girl stood up and sang in that impossibly huge soprano voice.

It’s difficult to compare Deanna Durbin in her time to someone today. Taylor Swift maybe but only because she’s young, pretty and has fans across age and gender divides. But Deanna was a recording artist, movie star and icon to girls everywhere.

Anne frank kept a picture of her above her pillow in her secret room. Winston Churchill was said to be a great admirer, though I once asked his biographer, the great British historian Sir Martin Gilbert about here and he said “Who?”

MGM dumped her in favour of the renowned Frances Gumm. Who after a name change would have a decent career as Judy Garland. Legend has it that studio boss Louis B Mayer ordered his minions to “Get rid of the chubby one.”

So Deanna signed on with Universal, which she single-handedly saved from bankruptcy in the 1930’s with Three Smart Girls, 100 Men and A Girl, First Love. You get the idea. Even in her late teens, she was one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood making over $250,000 a year, or about $4 million in 2013 dollars.

In 1939, along with Mickey Rooney she won an Academy Award for “significant contribution in bringing to the screen the spirit and personification of youth, and as juvenile players setting a high standard of ability and achievement”.

But she would have a sadly short shelf life. Growing up was a career-ending move for her.

She became a beautiful, proud and ambitious young woman. No longer content playing little girls, she wanted to establish her credentials as a serious adult actress.

Her legion of fans would have none of that. The frosty reception given to Lady on a Train in 1945 pretty much sealed things in her mind. Truth be told, it’s not very good despite the dapper presence of Gene Kelly. But that wasn’t the issue. She made a few more attempts and then called it a day. She said to hell with it and walked away from “the fishbowl” as she called her celebrity, to retire at the age of 28. She married one of her former directors to live in a village outside Paris.

She became a J.D. Salinger figure, shunning the outside world for the “life of nobody” she said she sought. In all this time, she gave one interview, disappearing completely from the public eye.  But not its heart.