Marion Davies

How is she best remembered: as a film star, or as a high-profile mistress? Does history treat her as an actress of historical importance, or as the protegee of an influential publishing mogul who publicized her to the nines? How do we remember Marion Davies?

She was born Marion Cecilia Douras, in Brooklyn, New York, on January 3, 1897. She was convent-educated, excelling in drama classes, and enjoyed a leggy stage debut in a Broadway chorus line at the age of 16, in 1913. In the ensuing years, she modeled, and continued in stage work, highlighted by an appearance in the “Ziegfeld Follies” of 1916. The following year marked her silver screen debut, in Runaway Romany (1917). It was around that time (aged 20) that she first met newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst, who took an immediate interest (professionally and personally) in her career, vowing to mold her into Hollywood’s greatest star.

To begin the process, Hearst formed a company, Cosmopolitan Pictures, for the sole purpose of producing her pictures; he exploited his position, and used his vast newspaper empire, to publicize her film appearances, and praise them heartily (worthy or not). From 1919 to 1923, the Cosmopolitan films were released through Paramount; Marion was receiving $10,000,weekly. However enthusiastically the Davies films were praised, and advertised, in the Hearst papers, Cosmopolitan is said to have lost as much as $7 million dollars on Marion’s vehicles, which were the most lavishly costumed, shot, and publicized of their day. Hearst, despite the non-success of the Davies/Cosmopolitan pictures (with titles like 1919’s The Cinema Murder, 1920’s The Restless Sex, and the minor 1923 classic Little Old New York), insisted that his protegee continue in pure, virginal cinematic vehicles, despite the hard truth, that she was a sparkling comedienne, with a charming face, expressive eyes, and dynamite body language. Hearst’s stubbornness (borne, chiefly, out of his own whimsy for Davies) kept her in fragile, innocent roles, and stopped her from investigating parts that could show off her talents in more complimentary fashion: she might have been one of Hollywood’s most famous actresses, but she was far from a box office success.

In 1924, the Goldwyn Company absorbed Cosmopolitan; soon thereafter, Goldwyn merged with Metro to form MGM, and Davies company was part of the package. MGM production chief, Louis B. Mayer, always one to sniff out opportunities when presented to him, realized the value of a professional association (via Cosmopolitan) with Hearst, in terms of free publicity, and social prestige, which could translate into box office. In the meantime, Davies lavishly entertained Hollywood shakers and movers, in storied parties given at her studio bungalow, and at one of the several homes she shared with Hearst (be it the mansion in Beverly Hills, the 110-room, 55-bath beach home in Santa Monica along Pacific Coast Highway, or the fabled San Simeon castle. But it was aboard William Randolph Hearst’s yacht that the murder of Thomas Ince occured, on November 19, 1924: Ince, it was rumored at the time, was shot by Hearst, who mistook him in the dark for Charlie Chaplin, who was having an affair with Davies. Ironically, a mere six months later, on June 26, 1925, Chaplin’s The Gold Rush premiered at Grauman’s Egyptian Theater on Hollywood Boulevard: among the throng of celebrity guests, Marion Davies and William Randolph Hearst.

Though Marion Davies never attained the level of greatness hoped for by Hearst, she hit pay dirt with a stellar role in Show People, a 1928 comedy which hinted at autobiographical elements of Davies’ life. The madcap silent film, which followed a naive young actress making it in Hollywood, was directed by King Vidor, a great developer of talent in worthy vehicles. This was, however, the final great role she would have.

The career of Marion Davies, during the silent film era, held a potentially disastrous secret: the actress had a crippling stutter. The dawn of sound pictures marked the beginning of the end of Davies’ viability as an actress: she was, at first, used in brief scenes, and eventually her roles required fewer and fewer dialogue lines. Hearst, in addition, was upset that many film roles that he had earmarked for Davies were being channeled to the wife of Irving Thalberg, Norma Shearer: this caused Hearst to break his affiliation with MGM, in 1934. Her final film, Ever Since Eve, was released in 1937.

Marion Davies and William Randolph Hearst had a genuine love between them: sources close to the couple attest that the two would have married, had Mrs. Hearst consented to give Mr. Hearst a divorce. In the mid-1930s, the Hearst empire had a financial setback: it was Marion Davies who, armed with her own personal fortune, saved the day by chipping in a million dollar loan. Hearst truly seemed to love Davies: her name appeared daily in the 22 newspapers under the Hearst banner. His death, on August 14, 1951, ended a life story that not only was the stuff of legend, it was the subject of a film, written and directed by, and starring, Orson Welles, Citizen Kane (1941). Two months later, Davies surprised friends by marrying Merchant Marine Captain Horace Gates Brown. Their nuptials, on October 31, 1951, were held in the wedding chapel of the El Rancho Vegas Hotel in Las Vegas. The first-time bride was 54 years old. Although Davies claimed that Brown was a cousin of Hearst, many denied it, including the Brown family. Davies filed for divorce in 1952, and again in 1954, but both times she withdrew her suit.

Davies and Brown remained married until her death, from cancer, on September 22, 1961, in Los Angeles. Marion Davies was 64 years old. Her obituary, in the Hollywood Reporter, made no mention of Hearst at all. Years later, Patricia Van Cleve, who had been widely publicized as the beloved niece of Davies, admitted on her deathbed, in 1993, that she was born to Davies and Hearst out of wedlock. Van Cleve was married to Arthur Lake, renowned as Dagwood Bumstead in the Blondie series of films. Together, now, Davies, Van Cleve, and Lake rest, in the Douras Mausoleum, on the lake at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

The career that earned Marion Davies a star along Hollywood’s Walk of Fame, at 6328 Hollywood Boulevard, garnered more publicity, and more notoriety, than perhaps anyone’s in the history of film. Some may argue that the huge press was solely due to her connections. Others may make note of her box office-poison status, and deem the career forgettable. Nothing could be further from the truth. Marion Davies was a bona fide star, a product of a time which made her brand of stardom wholly possible; she captured the heart of a powerful man, who would do anything to guarantee her success. The stardom that she still enjoys, and the fame which she will always lay claim to, was duly earned, and will forever belong to her.