by Greg King
“I am beginning to understand things for myself,” she said during an interview in 1967. “I have no idea if I can act. I’m just discovering things about myself. I’m extremely insecure and if I can’t do something honestly, I can’t do it. I’m just becoming a little more sure of my judgment. I say things and I find out some other people agree. I don’t mind being attached to the sex thing, but I don’t want it to be mis-used. Sexiness is a very natural thing, a delicate, fluid thing, the way you do something, or nothing. I’m discovering what I can do, and what I think. I didn’t think I could do anything before.”9
As Sharon herself was aware, Ransohoff was trumpeting her as the next major young female star, and many of the questions she endured at interviews focused on her status as a sex symbol. “Oh, that’s silly!” she told one reporter, blushing deeply. “I am not an anything … I’m just me. If I am sexy, it’s just something I do naturally, like picking up a knife and fork to eat. I think people who try to be sexy are the most unsexy people in the world.”10
“Sexiness,” she declared, “is all in the eye of the beholder. And I think it should be. Absolutely. My sex appeal, whatever it might be, isn’t obvious … at least to me.” She often equated herself to her character Jennifer in Valley of the Dolls: “She’s really got the same ideas about sex as I: She has the kind of European sex appeal—the naive, surprised type of thing, like every day is a new package to open. There is a child-like innocence; being sexy without being aware of it, without effort … and I think this makes you twice as sexy.”11
That summer, Don’t Make Waves, the third motion picture which Sharon had filmed, became the first to receive a release date. The MGM Pressbook, listing the cast biographies, declared: “And last, but definitely not least, is Sharon Tate, producer Ransohoff’s new discovery whom he has been keeping under wraps but who now sheds them in Don’t Make Waves as Malibu, Queen of the Surfers.”12
Much of the film’s publicity focused on Sharon. Promotional buttons showed her picture; stills showing her rescuing Tony Curtis from the ocean were sent to water safety programs across the country; and photographs depicting Sharon in skydiving gear found their ways to all branches of the Parachute Club of America. Lobbies of motion picture theatres were decorated with life-sized “Surfside Sharon” cardboard photographs depicting the actress clad in her polka-dot bikini.13 Perhaps the ultimate promotion was an add Sharon did for a tanning lotion. Shown in a blue bikini, lying atop a surfboard held by four well-built young men, she was identified as “Sharon Tate, co-starring in Martin Ransohoff’s Don’t Make Waves,” and trumpeted the “better tan” achieved through the use of Coppertone.
Don’t Make Waves was released to mixed reviews. Some critics praised the movie as being genuinely funny, while others warned potential viewers to stay away. By mid-1967, however, America’s infatuation with California beach life was on the decline, and everything—from the idea of happy teenagers cavorting on the sand in the midst of the escalating Vietnam War to the title song performed by The Byrds—seemed anachronistic. “It’s a terrible movie,” Sharon confided to one reporter, admitting that “sometimes I say things I shouldn’t. I guess I’m too outspoken.”14
For her own role in the film, though, Sharon received rather good reviews, many commenting not only on her beauty but also on her comic talents. The impression she made in Don’t Make Waves was enough to convince several other Hollywood directors that she had a comic talent worth pursuing, and the remaining films she would make would both be comedies.
While Sharon was filming Don’t Make Waves, Roman had flown to Los Angeles to view the finished cut of The Fearless Vampire Killers with Martin Ransohoff. For six months, the film had languished on the shelf. First, there were problems with the British censors and the MGM film board. Polanski himself received several pages of written suggestions for cuts and changes, ranging from the brief nudity in one of Sharon’s bathing scenes to the attempted seduction of Alfred by the count’s son Herbert.15 More troubling was Ransohoff’s seeming reluctance to give the go-ahead for a final release date.
After watching the rough print with Polanski, Ransohoff and several Filmways executives, Bob O’Brien, the President of Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer, was apparently less than impressed. The dubbing made the film impossible to understand, and it was agreed that American audiences, unaccustomed to a mixture of horror and comedy, would be too confused by Polanski’s finished product. Ransohoff was left to step in and re-dub and edit the film to suit both his own standards and those of MGM as well.
Polanski was outraged. At first, he insisted that his name be removed from the film’s credits; but, as he was not only the co-screenwriter and director but also a major character, this was hardly possible.
Ransohoff informed Polanski that the film was going ahead with a general American release after he himself had made final cuts, and that Roman, having signed a contract giving him this right, could do nothing to stop him. On his own, Ransohoff cut some twenty minutes from the final version, and added a cartoon prologue at the beginning to explain the history of vampires in Europe.16
“He tries to appear as a real artist lover, you know,” Polanski later declared in anger. “He always wears the dirty sweat shirt and he always talks of the studio executives as dicks, so I believed him, you see. But then soon I realized that he’s got tremendous ambition and has a real chip on the shoulder and he believes that he could do it himself with his left hand, but has got no time to do it because he is so busy with deals. So he leaves some artists to do the dirty job and when he is ready he will take it away and he will shape it right.… When I saw the film I nearly fainted.”17
Roman believed that the cuts severely damaged the film’s integrity and would negatively affect its potential box office success. As things turned out, The Fearless Vampire Killers was a box office failure when it was released in November, 1967. The reviews were roundly bad. Newsweek called it a “witless travesty, this bloody bore of a take-off on vampire movies by some apprentice gagsters who will never be half the half-man Dracula was. The film gets some laughs, maybe one per reel.”18 Time was even less kind: “Neither spooky nor spoofy, The Fearless Vampire Killers never manages to get out of the coffin.”19 Only Variety noted that Sharon “looks particularly nice in her bath”20 With reviews like these, the film quickly disappeared from circulation. Only many years later, in the 1980s, was Polanski’s original cut restored and released, this time to some critical acclaim, and it has subsequently become something of a cult film, due, no doubt, to Sharon’s presence.
Almost concurrently with The Fearless Vampire Killers, Filmways finally released Eye of the Devil. “Cumulative scenes of suspense, terror and excitement pervade Eye of the Devil, new Martin Ransohoff production for MGM, and one of the year’s outstanding ‘shock dramas,’” the Pressbook from Filmways declared. “The picture has a brilliant all-star cast headed by such distinguished veterans as Deborah Kerr, Academy Award-winner David Niven and Donald Pleasence, and also starring two exciting newcomers—beautiful Sharon Tate, who made an auspicious film debut with Tony Curtis in Don’t Make Waves, and David Hemmings, the sensational young star of Blow Up.” Sharon was trumpeted as “one of the screen’s most exciting new personalities,” and “the year’s most exciting new acting discovery.”21
Promotional posters for the film featured close shots of Sharon’s eyes, staring menacingly out above captions which declared, “Look at her long enough and she may be the last thing you’ll ever see!”
Unfortunately for Sharon, too many moviegoers decided to steer clear of the film. It, too, proved a failure at the box office. Only a few critics noted her bewitching presence as Odile. The New York Times, reviewing the film, referred to Sharon’s “chillingly beautiful but expressionless” performance as one of the film’s few highlights.22
The premiere of Eye of the Devil passed almost unnoticed. Most critical attention that fall, and certainly all of Sharon’s hopes, focused on the imminent release of Valley of the Do
lls. For several months, movie-going audiences had been treated to the three minute preview, which confidently announced, “Now the all-time bestseller is the motion picture you wanted it to be!”
The publicity machine at Twentieth Century Fox, already in motion, continued to roll along by promoting the film actively to Hollywood reporters. The immense wave of media attention culminated in a cruise aboard the luxury liner Princess Italia from Miami through the Bahamas, the Panama Canal, Mexico and on to Los Angeles. All three of the principal female leads went on the cruise, along with author Susann and her husband, writer Irving Mansfield. The ship was loaded with reporters and reviewers, and in every port of call, Valley of the Dolls was screened for the local journalists as well. At the premiere on board the ship, Sharon quickly got a taste of things to come. Members of the audience laughed in all of the wrong places, and Jacqueline Susann, overcome with humiliation, walked out of the ship’s theatre in tears, locking herself in her cabin and refusing to come out for the duration of the voyage. Sharon and her two co-stars spent most of the cruise running from the packs of reporters on board, playing a game of cat and mouse in order to avoid having to say anything about the film, which they all thought was dreadful.23
Valley of the Dolls finally opened in Los Angeles in mid-December, 1967. The reviews were quick and to the point. Time wrote: “The story is about girls who take all sorts of pills but Valley of the Dolls offers only bromides.… Viewers are also likely not to feel anything—except numbness—after ingesting this filmed version of Jacqueline Susann’s wide-screen novel.…”24 The Saturday Review declared: “Ten years ago, Valley of the Dolls stars Parkins, Duke and Tate would more likely have been playing the hat check girls than movie queens; they are totally lacking in style, authority or charm.”25 Columnist Bosley Crowther wrote: “Bad as Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls is as a book, the movie Mark Robson has made from it is that bad, or worse. It’s an unbelievably hackneyed and mawkish mishmash of backstage plots and Peyton Place adumbrations.… It’s every bit as phony and old fashioned as anything Lana Turner ever did, and all a fairly respectful admirer of movies can do is laugh at it and turn away.”26 And Newsweek announced: “What a howl! … Valley of the Dolls, one of the most stupifyingly clumsy films ever made by alleged professionals, has no more sense of its own ludicrousness than a village idiot stumbling in manure.”27 Nor did the individual performances in the film fare much better. The Hollywood Reporter alone sounded a positive note: “Sharon Tate emerges as the film’s most sympathetic character who takes an overdose of sleeping pills when breast cancer threatens to rob her of her only means of livelihood. William Daniels’ photographic caress of her faultless face and enormous absorbent eyes is stunning.”28
Sharon was listed fifth in the opening credits, and Jennifer exits the film roughly two-thirds of the way through the film. But her onscreen time was considerable, and the scenes allowed a certain amount of dramatic versatility which had previously been lacking in any of her roles. There was much talk in Hollywood of the irony of casting of Sharon in the role, and many felt that the untalented starlet Jennifer who makes a career out of exploiting her body was an echo of Sharon Tate herself.
Early on, Sharon had realized that the movie was not going to be her star vehicle. Although her profile in Hollywood was certainly raised by the film’s publicity, the terrible reviews quickly served to counter most of the positive press. Dejected, she complained to Roman, “You’re the better half,” and bemoaned the fact that she had been unable to break free of the stereotypical image of the dumb blonde starlet, a role in which she seemed to be forever trapped by casting agents.29 The year, which had begun with such promise for Sharon, came to an end with little hope that she would achieve the stardom she so wanted.
Chapter 12
The Imperfect Couple
Throughout 1967, Sharon’s thoughts increasingly turned toward her personal life, and her relationship with Roman. In an interview given to the New York Sunday News, Sharon indicated both her devotion to Roman and her growing dissatisfaction with the direction in which her career seemed to be headed. “We have a wonderful relationship,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll marry him. He hasn’t asked me.”1
Sharon was absolutely convinced of her feelings for Roman. “My definition of love is being full,” she explained. “Complete. It makes everything lighter. I love Roman, but I can’t honestly say that right now, today, I want to marry him. I think marriage should have a true meaning behind it. I would never do it just to be quote, respectable. I feel sorry for girls who go to bed with men without any emotion. Even if you have an affair that doesn’t end in marriage, it’s still important to experience the feeling.”2
Roman, however, was somewhat more reluctant to commit. “In the beginning of our relationship, I was afraid of getting too deeply involved and losing my freedom,” he told Playboy Magazine in a 1971 interview. “But she was extremely understanding, tactful and clever. Being around me, she still made me feel absolutely free. She did not make demands, and she made it clear that she was not going to engulf me. I remember once her words, ‘I am not one of those ladies who swallow a man.…’”3
To stay with Sharon, and feel comfortable, Roman declared that he had to have complete freedom, to come and go as he wished, and to see whomever he wished. Although this ran counter to Sharon’s ideas about relationships and commitment, she was so in love with Roman that she agreed to give him all that he wanted. Their understanding, however, was completely in Roman’s favor. While Sharon accepted that there might be other women, and times when Roman failed to return home, Polanski obviously did not hold the same viewpoint. He could be extremely jealous of Sharon but, luckily for him, this fit her need to be dominated.
Sharon knew that Roman was unfaithful. “And it doesn’t bother me,” she declared. “I think that in the beginning, it did, a little bit. But again, you come to this European thing, where it’s done very openly … very naturally. And soon you realize that this type of behavior is just part of ‘The Man.’ Now I’ve begun to think there’s something wrong with a man who doesn’t have the drive to want to go out and see another girl. Even after he’s married—oh, yes! Any man who lets his wife tie him down or take him to task for following his natural instincts is a very meek man. He wouldn’t be the man for me.… Just because a man is married doesn’t mean he should stop operating like a man. I would want my husband to hold down the other front as well. It’s the only honest way.”4
Such pronouncements, at least, seemed to indicate that Sharon had come to terms with Roman’s behavior. But they speak more of her ability to parrot Polanski’s own views than of any acceptance on her part of his style of life. For Roman and the press, she would evince a complete understanding; but secretly, she continued to hope that Polanski would come round to her own ideas of commitment.
Such acceptance was necessary, as Roman was not terribly discreet. “Roman didn’t go to a lot of trouble to hide his affairs,” says Victor Lownes.5 On one occasion, when Sharon and Judy Gutowski went away for the weekend, Roman slept with a model he had previously met. Polanski apparently bragged of his latest conquest to Gene Gutowski, who, in turn, informed his wife. At the time, the Gutowskis were in the midst of their own marital difficulties, and Judy, who despised both Roman and her husband, saw a way to strike back. “It must be nice,” she said to Sharon one day, “living the way you and Roman do—I mean, allowing each other such complete freedom. Like when you and I went off to Big Sur and Roman screwed that girl and you didn’t mind in the least!”6
Hurt though she was, Sharon never mentioned the incident to Roman. It was simply one in a string of affairs, and she had realized that there was little she could do to stop such behavior. “No matter what happens,” she told a friend, “I always know that Roman will come home to me at night.”7
When the lease expired on their Santa Monica mansion in the middle of 1967, Sharon and Roman spent several months living a semi-nomadic existence. First,
they took temporary rooms at the Sunset Marquis, a prestigious apartment complex in the center of Hollywood. The stay, however, was cut short by Sharon, who disliked the atmosphere. Instead, she talked Roman into renting a fourth-floor apartment in the famous Chateau Marmont overlooking Sunset Boulevard, a big Victorian building complete with turrets and oddly-shaped rooms. Sharon loved the place, with its fashionable dwellers including actors and rock stars, but Roman thought it was all too much. Walking through the hallways, he later recalled, the smell of pot hung heavily in the air, and ambulances often raced the latest suicides and drug overdoses off to the UCLA Medical Center.8
It was a time of seemingly endless parties, and Sharon and Roman had a steady stream of friends, business associates and acquaintances who filtered through their apartment. Inevitably, their glimpses were brief, impressionistic. Sharmagne Leland-St. John, former Playboy bunny and an occasional guest, recalled: “Sharon was the sweetest creature I had ever met, very smart, but very stupid, too. Once, she was sitting on a chair, and watering this plant. She would empty a pitcher, and go for some more water, and do it again as we sat there wondering when it would occur to her that the water was going straight through the pot down onto the carpet.”9
After a few months at the Chateau Marmont, Sharon and Roman decided to find a house together. Polanski’s contract with Paramount Studios ensured that he would be required in Hollywood for several years. After looking, however, they could find nothing suitable, and Patty Duke suggested that they rent her house above Benedict Canyon in the Hollywood Hills. Located at 1600 Summit Ridge Drive, the house was a rambling Colonial-style retreat with an enclosed garden filled with old trees and flowering vines.
To celebrate, Sharon and Roman gave a party at the Summit Ridge house. According to several sources, there was a curious incident which had ominous overtones in view of the later murders. The couple had agreed to look after Patty Duke’s English sheepdog, and during the gathering it somehow managed to escape from the house, wandering down Summit Ridge Drive. Roman apparently chased the dog down the hill, only to encounter a vicious pack of Alsatian dogs belonging to members of an English cult called The Process living nearby. The dogs chased Roman into a garage, where he became trapped until he managed to break a rear window and escape up the hillside, away from the Satanists’ howling dogs, to the safety of his house nearby.10