A tin-foiled erratum that reads, hilariously, like a sequel to "Little Me," the parody of a star's mishaps published a few years earlier. Hedy's memoir, which she later denounced as bogus, though she still claims the subtitle -- her life "as a woman," not a vegetable or a mineral -- is quite untainted by pedantry. She and her ghosts present a living and kicking organism with details of her orgasms w men and women. Our Hedy does not stint on taste and ingenuity. She begins, "Let me start by saying that in my life, as in the lives of most women, sex has been an important factor." She applauds the line: "that little ass is meant for more than sitting down." Prithee! She's highly amused that "I seem to be the type that other women get queer ideas about." Forsooth! Herein is a riotous debach of a honky-tonky burlesque act without pasties. Who wants to read a serious bio of a sexually miscellaneous bird when she offers herself developing mental bacilli?
Who wants to read a bio of Lamarr, anyway? Well, a new Hedy documentary, "Bombshell," has just been released to good reviews and will be on PBS in 2018, though it's not as accurate or entertaining as other Hedy docs that you can find on YT. The main reason for exploring the actress Pauline Kael called "inhumanly beautiful" when she made her 1938 American debut in "Algiers" is that she's now, belatedly, credited with inventing a radio guidance system for torpedoes -- a frequency-hopping technique used today in WiFi. That's one helluva McGuffin ! She and her partner, the avant-garde composer & writer George Antheil, got a patent for it in 1942 and were posthumously inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2014. However, this brainy magic is not mentioned in her 1966 memoir. Did she forget? She only recalls stardom. "To be a star is to own the world," she says, "and all the people in it."
Growing up in Vienna, Hedy (1915-2000), in her teens, made a few movies and then, skipping off to Berlin, became famous for a nude swim scene in "Ecstasy." Soon she married Fritz Mandl, a munitions tycoon, who hosted, w wife, "posturing Hitler and pompous Mussolini." The jealous Mandl followed her everywhere. Hiding from him, she once took refuge in a brothel, she giggles, where, yes, she had to oblige a client. "I thanked him. He gave me a tip." Then it was back to the schloss.
"Europe was a cauldron of intrigue," she sighs, as Patrick Dennis might have inspired. And Hedy is Jewish, we learn from documentaries and other material, though not from her tome. According to Hedy, she sews her jewels into a cape, drugs her maid and sneaks away, catching a train for Paris-London. Hedy says: Genug !
When the S.S. Normandie sails for NYC with Louis B Mayer, Hedy is aboard. Now she becomes very discreet. He does like chicken soup and while he relaxes, Hedy handles the noodle. She has an MGM contract before the liner hits the mid-Atlantic. Once in Hollywood, her story becomes tiresome, but not without contradictions. In her early 20s, she adopts a baby boy, she reflects, without explaining why. There's turmoil and she doesnt see him for over 40 years, we learn from other material. She has 6 husbands and 2 more children packed off to schools (I assume the first was her own son too), and makes a slew of lousy movies while satisfying the wardrobe mistress in her dressing-room. "I have the courage to recognize emotional needs." She also spanks a gay chorus boy to get him hard, then chirps, "If I had my way everyone would have a psychiatrist."
When the mischief did she have time to focus on the McGuffin?
The "Bombshell" doc tells us that she was on Dr Feelgood drugs in the 60s...along w JFK...so maybe the scheisse-trivia is true ! Get a copy before they're all sold out. ~~ Yes, it's badly written, the time-frame keeps changing, there are many obvious fact errors and she ends with several pages of Lamarr's sagacious "advisories." Perfect for Mom. The critic Molly Haskell notes that, unlike Dietrich and Garbo, Lamarr never developed a distinct film personality. Was it because, as Hedy writes, "My sex drive was getting uncontrollable." She doesnt blame the McGuffin.
The only interesting. creative person in her life -- unmentioned here -- was George Antheil (1900-59), who died before the memoir was published. Born in New Jersey, he spent many years as a Dadaist in Paris where he knew Picasso, Stravinsky, Dali, Cocteau, Sylvia Beach. He also scored many movies, including the cult noir, "In a Lonely Place." Unfairly, he gets only passing praise today for the McGuffin. His unknown name doesnt "sell" books or docs, does it?