Modern Screen (Feb - Oct 1933 (assorted issues))

DIETRICH MYTH Her fame has cheated you out of knowing the real, lovable Marlene! By PETRA CUMMINGS IT was a certain gentleman — we'll call him Mr. B. — who told me so much that has never before been printed about Dietrich, the screen's fallen angel with the divine legs. And after he had told me these truths, he looked at me quizzically and said: "Your readers won't want to read what I have to say about Marlene. I'm sure they're much happier hanging on to those exciting, if slightly distorted, opinions, they've picked up about her in their magazine reading. Do you actually believe that they'll thank you for telling them that all those purple-spotted romances with Von Sternberg, Chevalier, Francis Lederer, or Brian Aherne, which are feverishly reported from time to time by enterprising Hollywood journalists, are groundless? That they are more apt to be creations of the journalists' sun-stroked imaginations than the ungilded truth ? "Let me give you an example of the situation as it really stands. When Rudolph Sieber, Marlene's husband, was last in America to pay her a visit, Marlene hurried east to meet him. While here, they both stayed at our home in Larchmont. One day we were calling on a famous American theatrical producer and his wife. Marlene was in marvelous spirits, for her husband had just given her a stunning emerald ring, which she was proudly exhibiting to everyone who came into the room. "The producer, an unpleasantly jealous husband, was even then openly discussing his plan to start divorce proceedings against his own wife, one of New York s most beautiful and charming former show girls. His outrageous suspicions and unfeeling treatment of her were making juicy gossip for Broadwayites. "Jokingly, but with malicious intent, this jealous husband suggested that he wouldn't be so anxious to give his wife expensive gifts in view of the intriguing stories of her devastating influence on men. He was referring, of course, to the tales of Marlene's conquests m Hollywood. 'Are you such an innocent,' he demanded of Sieber brutally, 'or are you above being affected by rumors ?' "Turning on him quietly, Sieber responded, 1 would be a fool to be jealous. Marlene and I are in love, and we understand one another perfectly. If we didn't, our marriage couldn't continue. But Marlene is an mterna Wide World With little Maria— a picture taken in Berlin. How could this wholesome, talented youngster thrive in the atmosphere with which her mother is supposed to surround herself? tional star and that means that she will inevitably be talked about. And that means also that we are forced to be apart a good portion of the year. Of^ course she has friendships with other men — why shouldn't she? But they have nothing to do with our relationship and never will. We trust one another, and there are no poisonous doubts in our marriage!' SO you see, my lady," continued my informant in a deprecating voice, "there's no imminent scandal in that marriage. And my wife and I have had many other signs of the secure quality of that relationship. For we know Marlene intimately, and she hides nothing from us. She's admittedly, ardently, and perhaps permanently in love with Rudolph !" Mr. B. raised a warning finger. "You still have time to ask me to stop before I blast any more illusions about Marlene. The other things I can tell you about her will contradict your preconceptions, and those of your readers, just as forcefully as the downto-earth facts about her marriage." He was grinning at me now. "Really, my dear," he said, "you're making a mistake to disillusion them! Think — you are about to destroy that glamorous dream picture of Marlene as the strange siren of a thousand unpredictable moods — the beautiful puppet who, they've been led to believe, can only be brought completely to life through the hypnotic influence of Von Sternberg. Don't you think they'd much rather go on believing in that TnlbySvengali myth, whether they approve of it or not?" But I didn't agree with him. I believe that the revelations of Marlene's character, as they were given to me in various conversations with those who knew her so well and who are yet so removed from the whole motionpicture atmosphere, will illuminate her personality for you. NOW, another gentleman — a musician of importance, who we'll call Mr. A.— lived with the Losch's^ Marlene's family, in that cloudy past when she hadn't any ideas whatever about a film career. He remembers her as a plump, awkward, often dowdily dressed girl of seventeen or so. A typical daughter of one of the upper class families of the old (Continued on page 89) 17