Modern Screen (Feb-Dec 1959)

Marlon just never came home (Continued from page 57) divorce and the Brando marriage was ended, only twelve days before its first anniversary. Friends, informed the following day, did not wonder ". . . Why?" so much as What brought it to a head? Actually, nothing— and everything!— brought it to a head, because this was a romance that should never have led to marriage in the first place. It was a marriage that began to die two days after the ceremony. There never were two people less right for each other, yet it seemed that fate always played a role at the crucial moment. Marlon would be intensely dilficult to be married to— but (to a writer who knows them both) Anna is no angel, either. And as it turned out, their faults were exactly the right ones to cause the maximum difficulty in their marriage. "Anna has no roots, no home, no people to turn to," says a friend of both. 'As a result she clung to Marlon. She expected him, overnight, to turn into a husband, to come home each evening at the same time, to sit by her side every minute, telling her how beautiful she was." Because Anna is a woman of very farm likes and dislikes, it was no secret that she didn't enjoy all of Marions friends. "But then," Anna told me frankly, he didn't like a lot of mine. I can't say this was a vital part of our disagreements. Many friends in both camps of the unhappy young couple, believe that Anna s jealousy was the main root of the trouble. "She was resentful of Marlon's men friends, jealous of every woman m his past whether it was a girlfriend or ]ust someone he'd once met casually. Anna rejected his moods, his need for solitude, his desire for work, his independent interests," they say. "She even thought his encouragement of her clay sculptureshe is very talented— had an ulterior motive: if she were sufficiently absorbed in it, she'd stop feeling martyred when he was late coming home." So, from the very beginning, there were misunderstandings. Anna was sensitive, wounded by anything and everything; Marlon, convinced he was going to be a bad husband, never gave himself a chance. He was harassed by tears and complaints —no matter what he did or didn't do— and eventually lost patience and went back to his old life. . He failed to show up for dinner, failed to telephone, ignored Anna's evident dislike of his friends and shrugged aside her unhappiness. Shortly, Hollywood was whispering that the Brandos had made a pact: if Marlon would come home three nights a week, he could do as he chose the rest of the time. It wasn't true, but Anna was hurt by the implications, nevertheless. Marlon in a mood Marlon did begin dropping in at the Club Renaissance fairly often, and m unpredictable moods. "Sometimes he'd find friends or play chess," says owner Ben Shapiro. "Sometimes he'd sit in with the musicians and work the drums for a while. Other times, he'd go off to the back room, drink coffee and stare into space. If you tried to talk to him, he'd be terse to the point of rudeness. Our waitresses . . . they get to know a lot about people in their business . could always tell when he'd had a tiff. But he never brought Mrs. Brando ^with him— not even on the good nights." One disastrous consequence of Marions apparent indifference to his wife was that she learned how to spend money! Before and during the first months of : 6\ their marriage, Anna Kashfi was in love with domesticity. She knitted exquisitely, designed her own clothes and made them with a professional touch. She shopped excitedly in Orbach's or the May Company for bargains. . At first, she cooked Indian curries and spent much of her spare time sculpturing. Later,with time hanging heavy on her hands due to Marlon's constant absences, she began to listen to friends who taught her the delights of spending money. With Pier Angeli and Phyllis Hudson, she lunched at Romanoff's, shopped at Saks or Magnins. At Don Loper's in one afternoon she bought half a dozen dresses; one of them cost $995. Eventually she spent so freely that Marlon, notoriously a generous man, told a friend in a burst of confidence that Anna was getting him in pretty deep. "Why not put her on a regular monthly allowance?" the friend suggested sensibly, but Marlon was horrified. I never would humiliate her that way," he said. ► Johnny Desmond tells of the Mar ^ t tian who landed and asked: "Take < ► me to Brigitte Bardot. I'll see your * ► leader later." Leonard Lyons ► in the New York Post 4 ► 4 Even after the birth of their son, matters did not straighten out. They named him Christian Devi Brando— but Marlon called him Christian, and Anna called him D To his friends and to Anna, Marlon has said he'll do anything and everything in his power to assure a safe happy future for his son. He hopes Anna may marry again more happily, is prepared to try for a firm relationship so that Christian Devi will never feel rejected or insecure. "More than anything, I hope Anna and I can remain friends," he says. If Anna could only have grown up mentally— it she could only accept life as it is, and my life particularly— perhaps there d have been a chance for us. As things were there was never any chance at all. I don t know how to be a husband, and she hasn t yet learned to be a wife— but I know she'll mature, and I think there s a real basis for a fine friendship between us. What is Anna's reaction to this? "Motherhood is the greatest experience of my life," she told me quietly. Love— everybody needs it. I do not know that I shall marry again, I have not thought about it— but it's possible, of course. Despite their love for their son, neither Anna nor Marlon would ever try to revive their marriage. What lies ahead? Currently Marlon is finishing out the lease of their house. The divorce settlements and details are quietly movmg forward in the hands of their lawyers. Anna and Marlon have the same business manager, who has recently been ill. Said one acquaintance, "Poor guy, ot course he's ill at being square in the middle. He'll be cured when the divorce is final!" However, this isn't likely to be a greedy hassle over money. Its unlikely that Anna will demand the earth, and fairly certain that whatever she thinks fair, Marlon will give her. Anna drives her copper-colored twodoor Chevy to her daily ballet lessons, takes the baby with her in a car-cot tor visits to friends or when marketing, and has little, if any, social life. Her rented Beverly Hills house has small rooms and an effect of coziness; she runs it with the aid of a cleaning woman every other day and Ruth, the Japanese nurse who also does some of the cooking and cares for the baby when Anna is working in a film. Marlon visits at least every other day to play with the baby. . Newspapers report that Marlon is dating some of his pre-marital girl friends— Rita Moreno, for instance . . . but perhaps some of this is only a rumor. Both parents sternly refuse to permit pictures to be published of Christian Devi. Marlon says, as always, "My private lue is private." Anna says, "Even though we are separated, I shall always respect Marlon's wishes for our son." But I've seen pictures of Christian Devi —and an enchanting baby he is! He looks like Marlon, with a thatch of the softest, silkiest dark brown hair and the blackest eyes. He's a strong healthy child with a happy grin and a spark of humor. Can t you issue just one 'official photograph.' Anna smiled at me. "I know it sounds absurd," she said gently, "but its my husband's wish— and I'm afraid I agree with him. You see . . . when something is very close to your heart, you do not want to share it casually." Perhaps that's one of the basic faults m the marriage. Both Anna and Marlon, emotionally underprivileged, have never learned to be able to give freely, completely, casually. ... _ Marlon met Anna Kashfi on the Paramount lot, immediately fell madly m loye with her because she was quiet, gentle, foreign and breathtakingly beautiful. Always interested in the Orient, he was charmed by Anna's blend of East and West ... the saris, the great luminous brown eyes, the Oriental deference of woman for conquering male. But that was all there was; they never actually had anything whatever in common, and the romance would have died quietly and naturally but for the first ot the tricks of fate. Anna developed tuberculosis, was sent to the City of Hope Hospital where she would remain for five and a half weary months— and one of Marlon's better qualities is deep active sympathy for anyone in trouble. There was always a standing order for flowers to be delivered each morning— from the very first day. At the end of each day's shooting, Marlon drove many miles to see Anna. There were telephone calls last thing at night and first thing in the morning— just to say 'hello' and 'keep cheerful!' and the moment of revelation was put off for both of them. To Anna, ill, in a foreign country, with few friends, and abandoned by her family (she received not one word from her mother or stepfather O'Callaghan during this time) Marlon naturally became the center of her life. She was sure she was in love with him and, seeing his nicest side, that he was all she could want in a husband. Dog-in-the manger To Marlon, Anna was a beautiful girl whom he wanted to help, but when at last she was pronounced cured and released from the hospital, no longer in need of his sympathy, the romance began once more gently to die. "They had love, but they never had any slightest understanding of each other,' says a close actress friend of both the Brandos. "It's perfectly incredible how at every important turning point, fate played on the faults in their basic natures to keep the thing going!" "Yes," her husband agreed, If Anna hadn't contracted TB . . . and if, when she was cured, she hadn't met another man who made no secret of his interest in marrying her . . . but Marlon is a dogin-the-manger type. He can't bear to lose people!"