Mommie Dearest

by Christina Crawford

  September 17, 1956

  Christina darling,

  I am sure you are having a “ball.” I hope everything is going well and you are over your apprehension on your classes. I am sure the excitement of meeting all new people and going to the fraternity dances will counteract any nervousness you might have.

  As I said before, the working is going slowly but, I hope, well. It is a different kind of part for me. Heather Sears, the 20-year-old girl, is just fabulous in the part of Esther. She is always on time; is as professional as can be; takes direction magnificently; is a joy to work with; and, of course, so is Brazzi.

  I hope your room mate is nice. I am sure she is.

  Did you ever do anything about learning to sew?

  Please don’t wear your evening dresses to classes. Save them for dinner parties. Dress simply, and watch the make-up - play it down, not up. And please make me very happy by not using eye shadow.

  Love,

  “Mommie”

  I really had to laugh though it was always frustrating to have mother think of me like an idiot. Just the thought of anyone being so lunatic as to wear evening dresses to classes made me laugh, though the fact that it even crossed her mind didn’t particularly thrill me. The eye shadow business, of course, was an old holdover.

  But she wrote back often and it made me very happy to see the tone of her letters changing.

  September 19, 1956

  Christina darling,

  I am so delighted to get your letters. You sound very happy, which makes me, in turn, very happy too.

  This is just a quick note between scenes to say that I love you. Please continue to be happy.

  All my love,

  “Mommie”

  At one of the fraternity parties I had one of those college drinking experiences that remain with you forever. I was not used to drinking at all, needless to say, since I’d just come from a convent school. Usually I stuck to just beer and felt pretty safe with that. But one party was unusually dressy and they served mixed drinks. To this day I don’t remember what the drink was called, all I know is that it was made with gin and tasted deceptively like lemonade. Nothing terrible happened at the party, but on the way home, in the car, I realized that I was going to be violently ill. I had to ask my date to stop the car immediately. We were in Schenley Park and it was quite dark in between the street lights. Thank god it was dark. I don’t ever recall being that sick, or that embarrassed. But there I was in my lovely cocktail dress, on my hands and knees throwing up in the darkness. It was a totally dreadful experience. I never went out with that poor guy again, but I never touched another drop of gin either. From that point on, I made some attempt to watch what was being served very carefully.

  September 27, 1956

  Christina darling,

  I loved your letter of the 20th. Your college career sounds very exciting, and I know how happy you must be. The stage craft and technical workings must be fascinating. How I wish I had had all that training before I started my career.

  Did you finish your Stanislavsky book before you entered college? And remember one thing always, darling - don’t take the books literally because you become nothing but a technical actress, and there is nothing duller. Most of the Actors’ Studio people are technical, too technical, Cliff Robertson being one of the rare ones who have maintained his own identity.

  I am delighted that you like your new skirts and sweaters. Also, happier than I can say that you like your new roommate.

  The picture is going just as slow as usual. We are threatened with a walkout and strike on the part of the carpenters tomorrow. Some productions will close down until they have negotiated with the carpenters which could mean a wait of one week to five months. If we don’t wait for the negotiations our company may have to finish the picture in Rome. Of course, I will let you know where I am at all times.

  I understand Aunt Bettina let you have $50.00, so that for the next two months I do not think you will need any further allowance from me. This means you will have $25.00 a month, enough to last to the end of November, and whatever you save out of it for Christmas, I will double the amount.

  All my love, darling,

  Always,

  “Mommie”

  No matter how you figure it, mother was not good at math. Betty gave me the $50.00 because the $50.00 that mother had given me before school started went for books and supplies the first day I was there! That left me with nothing … not a dime. But, I’d explained that already to mother, and in this case Betty had too. Putting the first $50.00 aside, there were three months, not two months between September and the end of November. So it was not the paltry sum of $25.00 a month that was supposed to be my allowance, but something in the neighborhood of $16.66, which ended up being about $4.00 a week. Inflation was not a serious factor in the fall of 1956, but nevertheless, four dollars a week was a totally hopeless amount to try and make it by on. It was no use arguing, though. It was a quirk of mother’s that she failed to understand small amounts of money and their relationship to everyday life. I was to meet that quirk many times over in my life and I never really understood it. She would spend thousands on a mink coat or a piece of jewelry or a fancy dinner party but when it came to my allowance she didn’t seem to have any sense at all.

  October 2, 1956

  Christina darling,

  Your letters are such fun. Your “Thought and Expression” class must be fascinating. I am so glad you are enjoying it so much. Life can be very exciting if we give to it, and we only get back what we give. I am only sorry about one thing - the interview you gave and the very corny picture that you took for the newspapers. I am sure if you saw the picture you were not happy with it and that is why you did not send it to me. The important thing to know during an interview is what not to say. Next time, why don’t you say “See me in six years when I have started on my own”, and not give out interviews.

  Thank goodness we did not have the strike, so we can continue the film here.

  Forgive the brief note, darling, but I have to run.

  Love,

  As Always,

  “Mommie”

  This was the first of many discussions mother and I were to have about the press. The Pittsburgh papers had been calling me nearly every other day since my arrival in town and I got sick and tired of putting them off. I agreed to do one interview if they promised to leave me alone after that. The interview, I had thought, went well. They took a couple of photos and left. They had asked the usual questions about “how does it feel to be a movie star’s daughter “and dumb stuff like “are you following in your mother’s footsteps” to which I replied “not really, because I’m studying for the theater.” I did the best I could, but I made some mistakes. I wasn’t sophisticated enough yet to realize that once you became a public person, some of the control over what is printed about you is transferred out of your own hands and into the hands of strangers. It is possible, I found out, to say something perfectly innocently and have it taken out of context, so that the resulting printed article makes your original statement seem quite different than you intended. Mother should have known that better than anyone. She’d been dealing with the press for years. But it was like money versus my allowance; when it came to me, she seemed to forget how hard the lesson was to learn. However, I had already taken her advice and didn’t allow any more interviews.

  I really had more than I could handle just trying to get through my own classes and deal with regulating my social life so that one didn’t conflict with the other. I’d given up the fraternity parties after a month or so, mainly because there was so much drinking and I had found out rather painfully that I couldn’t handle alcohol very well. I was sticking closer to my own drama department. At night we had begun working “crew” which for the freshman girls meant primarily sewing costumes. But it also meant that we didn’t have to be back in the dorm at 9:00 p.m., so there was a decided bonus in it for all of us.

  The fall season was beautiful
that year. The leaves turned brilliant colors just like picture postcards of the east. It was only the middle of October, but Pittsburgh was beginning to get cold. The wind blew fiercely across the campus and you had to struggle against it to walk. My California clothes were not nearly heavy enough for this weather, but I was afraid to tell my mother that I was getting cold. I thought maybe in a few more weeks I’d get more used to it. I had enough sweaters but I had no muffler, no heavy coat, no boots and no winter gloves.

  October 25, 1956

  Tina darling,

  Loved your letters of the 4th and 9th. I haven’t been so good about writing for the past week or so, but all of a sudden all hell broke loose on production and things have been very hectic. I loved hearing about all your classes and am very happy indeed that you are enjoying everything so much. I am sure you find that, being so occupied, the days and weeks fly by. It is true that you will have moments of discouragement, but they will pass and something will happen to give you renewed encouragement. This happens to all of us, whatever we do.

  (Classmate’s name deleted) has written asking if you may visit his home for a couple of days during the Thanksgiving holiday, and he will no doubt show you my reply.

  I am sure you are making some nice friends at school. Which of the boys do you like best now? Times do change affections, or should I say, my darling, some people do not wear well.

  This coming weekend will be a very busy one for me because of all the activities in connection with the Command Performance. There is even a rehearsal on Sunday morning! It will be an exciting evening, and I cannot have any time off the next day in order to recover.

  The weather here in England is beautiful at present and the countryside is lovely, though I do not have much opportunity to see it since it is dark when we leave in the mornings for the studios, and the same in the evenings going back to Great Fosters.

  Was the party a lovely one? Do tell me all about it, won’t you.

  Keep well and happy, darling, and till next time all my love.

  Your

  Mommie

  I already knew that mother was going to be in England and that I had to make some arrangements for Thanksgiving vacation. I didn’t mind staying in the dorm just four days and I didn’t particularly want to stay in someone else’s home because it was always sort of like being on “show”. Not that anyone meant any harm, but I’d found out it was just sort of irresistible human behavior.

  Except for the money and nearly freezing to death a couple of days, college was going well beyond my wildest dreams. I’d begun to make some very good friends among my classmates. There were two people in particular with whom I became extremely close. One was a very bright girl named Myrna Coburn, “Mickey” was her nickname. She came from Brooklyn and her father was a CPA. She wanted to be a writer, but she had to take all the acting classes anyway. My other special friend was Lloyd Battista. Lloyd wanted to be an actor with every fiber of his being and in fact had already worked for several years in the Cleveland Playhouse near his home. Lloyd wrote too, but I think it was more like music than literature to him. I loved Lloyd from the moment he sat down next to me in class. He was an outrageous and wonderfully funny man that could be electrifying and silly at the same time. I never figured out how he did that, but I loved him anyway. Lloyd was like quicksilver to me. I never felt I could really catch him long enough to see what made him tick, yet he was always right there whenever I needed him. I never figured out how he knew that about me, either. It was just one of those friendships that lasts from the first moment through all the years that follow.

  In the weeks that passed so quickly I made other friends too. Jim Frawley was an actor in the class ahead of me and I was so fascinated by his classical style of acting that I used to go into his rehearsals and sit in the back watching. He had a wonderful voice and later on would help rid me of my California “twang”. Jules Fisher was a technical major, wanted to be a lighting designer, which he very successfully became. He did the lighting that first year for a special dance performance which was magnificent. Everyone just sort of knew that Jules would be a big success.

  November 11, 1956

  Christina darling,

  Enclosed is a copy of the letter I sent to (Classmate’s name deleted).

  Loved your last letter. I was terrified of the Command Performance but got through it all right.

  The tea breaks are still going on and I don’t know when we’ll finish the film. Sorry we won’t all be together at Thanksgiving; and I hope I’m still not stuck here for Christmas.

  I can certainly understand why you don’t want to spend Thanksgiving with Dennis, and of course I won’t let him know. You will see from the copy of my letter that I handled it - I think - quite well.

  You sound as though you are very sad that (boyfriend’s name deleted) is not around. Have you gotten over it, or do you still get lightening streaks up and down your back when he walks in a room? The right person, my darling, will let that wall he had around him dissolve. So take it easy; don’t press; and if you feel you love him, make him love you by your sweet consideration, kindness, and ladylike manner, and your understanding.

  Keep well and happy, and know that I love you.

  Your

  “Mommie”

  (Note: Some of the names are deleted so as not to infringe on their privacy.)

  It was wonderful to feel the kindness, the understanding mother showed in these letters to me. It made me feel close to her even though we had not seen one another in almost a year. I knew she was having a difficult time on this picture and yet she was taking precious moments to relate to me. Slowly she seemed to be dropping the old notions of me as a wayward child and beginning to respond to me as an adult. Her little bits of advice and personal thoughts on my problems were sweet. I felt as though she loved me and cared about me.

  I doubled my efforts in class. I was getting good grades even in the boring classes and my acting was progressing well. My favorite drama instructor was Allen Fletcher. He was a tall, slender, intellectual type and something of a local guru as far as acting teachers went. He was definitely special for all those of us who wanted to become involved with “the method”, which is basically what he taught. Mary Morris and Charlie Moore were more stylized in their approach, which of course we interpreted as ‘old-fashioned’. I sort of fixed myself to Allen Fletcher’s coattails and hung on with the rest of my crowd. I listened to his every word as though it were the living gospel. After seeing Hatful of Rain on Broadway the year before, I already knew the direction I wanted to head and Allen was going to help me learn how to get there. I worked for the man, for the instructor and not so much for myself. Perhaps that’s the pitfall many young actors face. The actor is so dependent on the teacher at first and the director later on that it’s hard not to make these people into minor guru’s of the moment. Whatever the trap, I fell into it hook, line and sinker.

  November 16, 1956

  Christina darling,

  In the first letter I wrote you at school I asked you how much money you had, and how much you thought you would need monthly, and you have not ever mentioned it, and now you are out of money. I know Aunt Bettina gave you $50.00, which I reimbursed her for in September. What have you spent it on since I am paying all the school bills, including laundry. Enclosed is a check for $50.00.

  By now you have my letter I wrote last week about (boyfriend’s name deleted). How sad he is going with a girl that makes him so unhappy. Since you see his mother, have you told her how you feel about her son? That might be a help only don’t try too hard, honey. (Name) sounds like a mixed-up kid if I ever heard of one. Apparently, (boyfriend’s girlfriend) has only one hold on him - which is not a lasting one; and with that temperament he will never make a director because no actor or actress would ever work with him. Why is he 26 and only a junior? Is he retarded? (You know, darling, that I’m only kidding.) You must know in your heart, darling, that if (name) is right for you God always has a way of wo
rking those things out. If you don’t win him it means he isn’t for you.

  I will be in this Godforsaken land for Thanksgiving.

  Please, darling, try to give me an idea of how much you will have to have every month in allowance, as I have to put that aside out of my own.

  Have you gained weight? Have you lost weight? Or are you the usual size? I must know immediately because of Christmas, and it takes so long to get letters back and forth to the states and order things.

  I have no idea, darling, where I’ll be at Christmas with the way the picture is going - or not going. I have had to be off two days, one time with a tremendous mosquito bite on my eye when my whole face was swollen, and last night again one bit me on the lip. They attack me like dive bombers. I am just allergic to the nasty things and they are as big as bees over here.

  In case I am not back for Christmas what shall we do about you? Let me hear as soon as you can, darling.

  All my love,

  Your

  “Mommie”

  I was so thrilled to get the $50.00 that I didn’t bother to tell her that she had told me in the first letter how much I would be getting for an allowance … not asked me how much I needed. I simply wrote back thanking her and saying that $50.00 a month would be sufficient.

  Christmas was going to be a dilemma. The dorm was closing for most of the vacation, so I wouldn’t be able to stay there. My friend Mickey invited me to come home with her to Brooklyn. Mother wouldn’t let me go because she said it was too expensive and she didn’t know Mickey’s parents.

  Finally I worked out an arrangement with the dorm where I could stay until they closed it and return the day it reopened. That left only one week that I had to find a place to stay. The boyfriend mother and I had been writing back and forth about heard about my predicament and told his mother. She insisted that I stay with them, which I did. They lived right in town, near the campus and within walking distance of the dorm. His parents were absolutely wonderful to me and I had a great time with them, his brother and sister-in-law. The only uncomfortable moments were when he brought his present girlfriend home with him for Christmas dinner and we all had to sit at the same table like one big happy family. I couldn’t stand the sight of his girlfriend, but in spite of ample advice to the contrary, he let himself be talked into marrying her and they’ve been living unhappily together ever since!