How Race Prevented Dorothy Dandridge from Being a Star By Susan King
Dorothy Dandridge was the first Black movie star. “She was our queen,” once said African American actress Nichelle Nichols (of Star Trek fame). Dandridge also made history with her full-blooded performance as the femme fatale in Otto Preminger’s 1954 CARMEN JONES. She became the first Black woman to earn an Oscar nomination for Best Actress and the first to grace the cover of Life magazine.
Her achievements were during a decade before the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and her nomination would mark five decades before a Black actress, Halle Berry, would win in that category. Berry also won an Emmy for her performance as the Dandridge in HBO’s Introducing Dorothy Dandridge (1999).
By the time Dandridge landed her role in CARMEN JONES, she had already paid her dues tenfold. She knew how difficult it was to be gifted, young, Black and beautiful in Hollywood. “CARMEN JONES was the best break I ever had,” said Dandridge, who tragically died at the age of 42 in 1965. “But no producer ever knocked on my door. There just aren’t as many parts or a Black actress. If I were white, I could capture the world.”
She was a child singer along with her older sister Vivian as part of The Wonder Children. Her mother, actress Ruby Dandridge, was the ultimate stage mother and so was her companion Geneva Williams, who oversaw their career. She was strict and allegedly was abusive. With family friend Etta Jones, Dorothy and Vivian became The Dandridge Sisters. They came to Hollywood around the time she was four. “I was one of those musical kids you hear about, with parts in pictures like the Marx Brothers’ A Day at the Races (‘37),” Dandridge said.
The Dandridge Sisters performed in Europe, the famed Cotton Club and appeared on Broadway in 1939 with Louis Armstrong in the short-lived Swingin’ the Dream. They also sang with African American band leader Jimmie Lunceford. And besides appearing in A DAY AT THE RACES, they were a specialty act in such movies and shorts as Snow Gets in Your Eyes (‘38), in which they perform “Harlem Yodel” and “Rhythm Rascals.”
Even as a teenager, you can’t keep your eyes off of Dandridge. She had the indescribable “It” factor. And after she went out on her own, she continued to dazzle in short musical films known as “soundies” that were produced for video jukeboxes of the era. She also had tiny roles, often uncredited, in movies, including David O. Selznick’s popular World War II film SINCE YOU WENT AWAY (‘44). Perhaps her most notable performance at this time was in the Sonja Henie musical ice-skating comedy SUN VALLEY SERENADE (‘41) in which she performs “Chattanooga Choo Choo” in a slinky black ensemble with the tap-dancing duo Harold and Fayard Nicholas.
“No film fan has ever forgotten her as a dream girl with the brothers,” said African American film historian Donald Bogle in his book Hollywood Black: The Stars, the Films, the Filmmakers.
She was all of 19 when she married Harold Nicholas, whom she had first met while performing at the Cotton Club. Their only child Harolyn was born in 1943. Nicholas had gone off to play golf the day Dandridge went into labor and he took the car keys, so she was delayed getting to the hospital to deliver the baby. Harolyn was born brain damaged and was never able to speak or even recognize Dandridge.
Dandridge believed the reason she was born mentally disabled was because of the delay in delivery. Dandridge would be haunted by guilt the rest of her life. She provided expensive care for her daughter, but when her finances became grim, Harolyn became a ward of the state. According to the TCM.com overview of BRIGHT ROAD (‘53), in which Dandridge portrays a dedicated young schoolteacher, seeing “healthy African-American children playing on the set proved too much for her, and she fled to her dressing room.”
Dandridge had always wanted to be a dramatic actress and attended the progressive Actors’ Lab in Los Angeles, becoming one of the school’s first Black students. Marilyn Monroe was also one of the students and became great friends with Dandridge. It would be considered a communist organization in the early 1950s with several members being blacklisted and the theater soon closed.
She also worked with noted coach and composer/arranger Phil Moore to develop a nightclub act, which Dandridge performed internationally to great acclaim. Under Moore’s guidance, Dandridge went from the young vivacious singer to a sultry, sexy chanteuse. Time magazine wrote about a nightclub appearance where she “came wriggling out of the wings like a caterpillar on a hot rock.” And according to a 1997 New York Times piece by Janet Maslin, when Dandridge headlined the Mocambo nightclub in L.A. in 1953, the cigarette girls actually sold copies of Alfred Kinsey’s Sexual Behavior in the Human Female.
“I think it was really the heartache over my child and the failure of my marriage that forced me to make a success out of my career,” Dandridge explained in 1954. “I had to keep busy. I threw myself into my work. It’s a wonderful therapy. You don’t have time to feel sorry for yourself.”
She landed roles in three low-budget films including TARZAN’S PERIL (‘51). Dandridge is the best thing about the adventure as Melmendi, the young, beautiful and feisty Queen of Ashuba, who is kidnapped and rescued by Tarzan. Bogle notes that Lex Barker’s Tarzan shows a lot more interest in Melmendi than he does in Jane (Virginia Huston). “Here were suggestions of an interracial romance that the studio didn’t explore.” But audiences were titillated. Ebony magazine put her on the cover with the banner: “Hollywood’s Newest Glamour Queen.’’
She would appear in a few more roles, including THE HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS (‘51) and BRIGHT ROAD opposite Harry Belafonte, who would star with her the following year in CARMEN JONES. The operetta gave her high visibility but few additional film roles. Also, she had fallen in love with Preminger, who didn’t give her the best career advice. They would work together one more time in the film adaptation of PORGY AND BESS (‘59), for which Dandridge was nominated for a Golden Globe.
“But sadly, her decline came soon after her triumph,” notes Bogle in Brown Sugar. “She realized she was a token figure within the movie colony, her position not much different than Lena Horne’s in the ‘40s. There was no great follow-up of roles to sustain her fame. Three years passed before she appeared in another film.” Dandridge once said of racial prejudice: “It is such a waste. It makes you loggy and half-alive. If it gives you nothing.”
Dandridge was drinking heavily and taking antidepressants by the late 1950s. In fact, when Dandridge married a second time in 1959, to the man who was not only abusive but would leave her broke, she was so drugged that she fell asleep at the reception. “Dandridge’s last years were lonely and sad as she struggled to find work,” said Bogle.
annaxmalina
dededos
stormborns
