Bio - 199 - Elizabeth Taylor: There Is Nothing Like a Dame

by Darwin Porter

  During his long days at sea, Todd planned his next big film production, telling her he was going to produce and film an epic, Cervantes’ Don Quixote.

  “The fucker was a lousy novelist, but we can hire rewrite men,” he told her. “Also, I’m telling the press that I plan to rent all of Spain for my production. I’ll hire this artist—what’s his face?—Picasso! to do the concept drawing for the advertising.”

  He wanted her to star as the scruffy, shrewish Dulcinea. Without reading the book, she agreed to the role.

  He envisioned Cantinflas, one of the stars of 80 Days, as Sancho Panza with Fernandel playing the role of Don Quixote. Later, he changed his mind, preferring John Huston in the title role, with the part of the bumbling Sancho Panza going to Mickey Rooney.

  “Like Don Quixote pursuing the impossible dream and chasing windmills across the plains of La Mancha, nothing came of the project,” said Dick Hanley.

  At midpoint across the North Atlantic, all thoughts of film production ended as Elizabeth was rushed into the emergency room of the Liberté. She was seized with the pains of premature labor, and she shouted at the ship’s two doctors, “My baby’s not cooked yet! It can’t come out!”

  The doctors anesthetized her, thereby preventing her from giving premature birth.

  Todd brought up the possibility of a Caesarean birth, but neither of the doctors felt capable of performing such a life-threatening operation. As one of them told Todd, “I don’t want to go down in history as the man who killed Elizabeth Taylor and her child.”

  When rendered unconscious by drugs, Elizabeth’s contractions stopped. Even when she disembarked from the Liberté in New York and was rushed to the hospital, she appeared in no immediate danger of giving birth.

  She was thoroughly examined and tested by more skilled doctors, one of whom warned Todd that if his wife brought the fetus to term, it might cause her to have a permanently curved spine. An abortion was suggested, but he refused. “Not on your nelly!” he said.

  In her hospital bed, a metal brace was placed on Elizabeth’s always fragile back. Because of that back support, her uterus with her future baby girl had been pushed upward to a precarious position under her ribcage.

  She was administered doses of digitalis (foxglove), with the intention of stimulating her heartbeat, but it became obvious that the drug was dangerously affecting the baby’s heartbeat too. Todd was warned that his young wife might die unless she submitted to a dangerously premature Caesarean.

  The operation was performed on October 6, 1957. In its aftermath, Elizabeth Frances (Liza) Todd entered the world, weighing four pounds, fourteen ounces. She was pronounced a stillborn. However, a resuscitationist, Dr. Virginia Apgar, rushed the baby to a resuscitator, and within fourteen minutes, she drew her first breath, although she had to be confined to an oxygen tent after that for two months.

  Her doctor told Todd that because any future pregnancy might kill her, Elizabeth should have her fallopian tubes tied. As he took her hand to tell her the news, he said, “You’re no Ma Kettle, baby.”

  Announcing the birth of his baby girl, Todd boasted to the press. “She is so beautiful, she makes her mother look like the Bride of Frankenstein. My Liz is a brave girl, and I’m currently negotiating with India to purchase a present for her: The Taj Mahal.”

  During her confinement to the hospital, Todd visited Howard Young, her art dealer uncle, and purchased three paintings from him—a Renoir, a Monet, and a Pissarro. However, after Todd’s death, Young had to sue the estate. Todd had never paid for the valuable art he’d taken.

  When Liza Todd was released from the hospital, Todd and Elizabeth in their Silver Rolls-Royce, took her to a twenty-three room mansion at Westport, Connecticut, which he’d rented for the summer. The little infant seemed to be suffering no bad effects from her premature birth.

  Author Truman Capote came to visit, and he brought Elizabeth up on news about Monty Clift. “He’s starting to pick up rough trade. These guys beat the shit out of him,” Capote claimed. “Monty seems to enjoy it, and he’s still crazy for those pills.”

  Before Capote left, he told her he was leaving the script of a play sent to her in his care by Tennessee Williams, with a note. “It’s in your study.”

  In the whirlwind that encircled the Todds in the months ahead, she didn’t open the script right away—in fact, she postponed it for months.

  ***

  Returning to the Los Angeles area in September of 1957, Todd rented a Mediterranean style, twelve-room white stucco house on Schuyler Road, high up in Coldwater Canyon, overlooking Beverly Hills. Elizabeth didn’t like the house, calling it “spooky and gloomy—all the fucking place needs is a resident ghost that looks like Elsa Lanchester in a Frankenstein fright wig.”

  When Dick Hanley came to visit, Elizabeth showed him the master bedroom. “The only thing I like about this Sunset Blvd. mansion is this gigantic baby blue and gold rococo bed where Killer bangs the hell out of me every night.” She turned to him. “And who might be banging you these days?”

  “A cute blonde Henry Willson trapped for me,” Dick said. “Bland, but a real looker. Troy Donahue. Henry says he’s going to be a big star. I say, when pigs fly. He’s something to warm the bed at night. Not much in the breadbasket, though.”

  Sometimes Todd paced the floors at night, pondering their finances, or lack thereof. He’d spent all the millions generated so far from 80 Days and hadn’t saved anything. Since he was out of money, he was eager for her to return to MGM to make the two final pictures she owed the studio.

  The royalties were still coming in, however, and in a few weeks, his son, Michael Todd, Jr., sent him a check for two million dollars. Todd wanted to spend it right away. “He never could hold onto money,” Elizabeth later recalled. He decided to invest these newly arrived royalties on a big publicity blast at Madison Square Garden in Manhattan and on another around-the-world tour, hoping to generate even more millions abroad.

  She had hardly settled into her new quarters before Todd announced they were going on the road again. Somewhat reluctantly, she agreed and stashed her children with nannies. On October 17, 1957, Elizabeth and Todd were back in New York to celebrate the first anniversary of the release of Around the World in 80 Days. For the occasion, Todd rented New York City’s Madison Square Garden for a private party, the same venue where he’d once hired Marilyn Monroe to make a spectacular appearance riding on top of a pink elephant.

  On the morning of the party, Todd announced to the press, “This will be the biggest god damn birthday bash the world has ever seen.” In contrast, he also told reporters, “I’m throwing an intimate party for a few chums.” In all, including gatecrashers, the party would attract 18,000 people.

  For the event, Elizabeth in her own words, “tried to make myself look like the Empress Josephine,” wearing a designer red velvet gown with a diamond tiara. “Call me Napoléon’s midnight delight,” she jokingly told the press.

  Instead of Monroe, Todd coaxed the distinguished British actor, Sir Cedric Hardwicke, to ride into the arena on an elephant, although he nearly fell off and broke his neck. Fernandel, the famous French comedian and actor, was the headliner on the evening’s cabaret bill. Todd also announced that Fernandel had been selected as the star who’d play Don Quixote in his next film epic.

  Todd didn’t want to spend any of his money if he could get other companies, especially those selling food and drink, to supply a staggering amount of freebies for the throngs pouring into the garden. To help defray other costs, he contracted with CBS to pay him $300,000 to film the event, which would be narrated by the newscaster Walter Cronkite. “It was the nadir of my career,” Cronkite later recalled.

  After seeing the Garden and its decorations, a journalist from Minnesota wrote: “Mike Todd and Elizabeth Taylor are the leading vulgarians of America.”

  At one end of the garden stood a forty-foot tall replica of “Oscar,” crafted with a sheathing of gold chrysanthemums, evoking Todd
’s (and 80 Days’) Academy Award for Best Picture of the Year. Over the heads of the revelers floated a mammoth hot air balloon.

  To mingle with the hoi polloi, Todd also invited A-list guests. Amazingly, both Ginger Rogers and Janet Gaynor accepted invitations to the mélée. The master party giver herself, Elsa Maxwell, joined the list of guests that inevitably included the nosy Hedda Hopper. Beatrice Lillie showed up with her girlfriend Ethel Merman. Walter Winchell, Shelley Winters, and Tony Curtis were among the thousands of guests. Others included Steve Allen, Jayne Meadows, and Bert Lahr.

  To join them, Todd cajoled the King of Siam to donate forty exotic cats in cages. Circus animals, including lions, tigers, and elephants were also placed around the Garden in cages. The uproar caused the elephants to panic. “Oh, my god,” Elizabeth shouted. “Are we still filming Elephant Walk?”

  Dozens of prizes were awarded, including four new Oldsmobiles and forty mink stoles. The grand prize was a Cessna two-seater private plane. Valuable pieces of jewelry were also among the coveted prizes of the evening.

  George Jessel, “Toastmaster of America,” was the emcee that night, appearing before thirty-five million TV viewers. He was followed by the famous clown, Emmett Kelly

  Elizabeth was placed next to Senator Hubert Humphrey, who had been hired to make a speech at the event. The day before, Humphrey had rehearsed the final version of his speech before Todd and Elizabeth in their hotel suite. Not knowing who he was, she interrupted him. “Your speech is shit. It’s so fucking corny.”

  Todd called her into the bedroom. “For god’s sake, woman, cool it. This man is going to become President of the United States. With him in the Oval Office, we’ll have a permanent suite at the White House.”

  The highlight of the evening was the arrival of a birthday cake, symbolizing the movie’s first anniversary, weighing one ton. Todd had ordered the icing to be pale blue in color—“better for the TV cameras.” The fourteen-tier cake had consumed 2,000 eggs and $15,000 worth of batter.

  Elizabeth, because of her bad back, had to climb a ladder to cut the first piece. She almost lost her footing and nearly fell into this mammoth glob. Those who managed to get a slice of the cake pronounced it inedible.

  The cake cutting signaled the debut of a food fight on the floor, where waiters had been selling what was supposed to be free champagne at ten dollars a glass. Chic women in designer gowns ended up fighting sanitation workers for hot dogs with mustard. Melted ice cream cones in the aisle caused slippery floors and several slides. Pizzas were rammed into the faces of guests, and a bonbon war broke out. Guests were pelted; garments ripped and torn.

  Elizabeth Taylor to presidential hopeful (photo above) Hubert Humphrey, not realizing who he was: “Your speech is shit...it’s so f...cking corny!”

  Duke Ellington and his band tried to play for dancing, but there was not room on the floor. Thus, in lieu of dance tunes, Todd ordered him to play “The Star Spangled Banner.”

  TV’s John Crosby claimed, “While Todd fiddles, New York burns.” On stage, baton twirlers from Dallas went wild. Instead of catching their batons, they became missiles when the girls in red, white, and blue costumes threw them high overhead and into the audience.

  The following morning, the manager of Madison Square Garden presented Todd with a clean-up bill which witnesses defined as “massive.”

  What was to have been Todd’s greatest public relations triumph ended in disaster. The press mocked both Todd and Elizabeth.

  Not to be intimidated, he announced to her, “Fuck New York, we’ll take our show on a world tour where we are more appreciated.”

  ***

  After the debacle at Madison Square Garden, Todd and Elizabeth set out on another world tour in November of 1957. Before she left New York, she fell in the bathtub, slipping on a bar of soap, injuring her back once again. She had to be carried aboard an Air France jet before its takeoff from New York’s La-guardia airport.

  That night, they flew to France to begin a trip that would take them to Stockholm, Oslo, Sydney, Hong Kong, Tokyo, London, and the most controversial stop of all, Moscow.

  In Paris, Todd announced, “Napoléon and Hitler didn’t succeed in conquering Russia, but I will. In fact, I may bring an end to the Cold War with this goodwill tour. My secret weapon is Elizabeth Taylor.”

  Before they flew out of New York, Secretary of State John Foster Dulles sent Todd an urgent telegram, pleading with him not to go to Moscow. The Secretary felt that the Todds were such explosive personalities that they might cause damage to already tense U.S./Soviet relations

  J. Edgar Hoover at the FBI had previously sent Dulles an urgent letter, in which he claimed that Todd was a secret Communist. “He is planning to use Elizabeth Taylor as a propaganda tool against the West.”

  Todd had written to the Soviet Minister of Culture, urging a private meeting between Nikita Khrushchev and Elizabeth and himself. The Minister gave him the brush-off and did not respond.

  Leaving Paris, Todd told the press, “Elizabeth and I lead the simple life. She pours her own Dom Perignon, and I make my own Beluga caviar sandwiches.”

  After a tour of many countries, including “Down Under,” Elizabeth and Todd flew into Prague on January 26, 1958. She told the communist press that she had specifically written to Khrushchev, “demanding that he see Mike and me.”

  As the plane landed in Moscow, Todd, with Elizabeth at his side, announced that his next big epic was going to be a film version of Tolstoy’s War and Peace, which would star Elizabeth. Then he denounced director King Vidor’s 1956 version of War and Peace that had starred Audrey Hepburn and Henry Fonda. “I will make the authentic version.”

  Since the Soviet Union did not allow her American films to be shown, Elizabeth found that she was virtually unknown in Russia, even though she dressed like a movie star in ermine, diamonds, and red boots. One fan at the airport asked for her autograph, thinking she must be Marilyn Monroe.

  With no private meeting with Khrushchev in the offing, Todd managed to bribe their way into a reception hosted by the Embassy of India, where Khrushchev would be an honored guest.

  Dripping in diamonds, Elizabeth arrived at the event in a black cocktail dress sparkling with sequins and with a broadtail fur trim.

  She and Todd received a brief handshake from the Soviet dictator, but no particular recognition. A journalist from Sweden wrote that, “Khrushchev must have thought that one of the Romanov princesses had returned from their mass grave.”

  Elizabeth managed to get her fill of black caviar and chicken Kiev before retreating back to their hotel.

  After Moscow, Elizabeth and Todd flew into Belgrade, Yugoslavia, where they had begun to see themselves as traveling American ambassadors of good will. Todd had run into trouble with plans to move ahead with War and Peace, so he announced to the press that he was going to remake Anna Karenina, one of Greta Garbo’s best films. Of course, Elizabeth would star as Anna.

  At Belgrade’s airport, she asked for a Scotch and soda, finding that she had to settle instead for a fiery slivotz which “caused me nearly to choke to death.”

  She celebrated when her plane flew into Nice. Back on the French Riviera again, she proclaimed it as “a return to civilization.”

  She told the press, “I don’t want to be a movie star anymore. Acting was just a hobby for me.”

  At long last, by December 17, 1957, she was in Palm Springs, where she entered the hospital to have her appendix removed.

  Todd was depressed, telling reporters, “I’m nothing more than a god damn nurse. Life with Elizabeth is a series of hospital visits.”

  She was furious when this comment was published, but the Todds made up, as they usually did, and by March of 1958, they were settled into Los Angeles once again.

  Director Josh Logan visited them, discussing with both of them the possibility of Elizabeth playing Nellie Forbush in the movie version of the Broadway hit, South Pacific. Todd urged Elizabeth to go for it.


  The next day, she appeared before composer Richard Rodgers for an audition. “She didn’t sing,” he later said. “She croaked. I’d rather give the role of Nellie to Marjorie Main.”

  As they were leaving the studio, Todd and Elizabeth encountered Doris Day.

  “Why are you here?” Todd demanded to know.

  “To test for the role of Nellie,” Day said.

  She, too, was rejected for the part, as were both Jane Powell and Janet Blair. The role of Nellie in the film version eventually went to Mitzi Gaynor.

  Recovering from her back pain in her study, Elizabeth finally got around to opening the script Truman Capote had left at the Westport rental home.

  “Get well, Elizabeth,” Tennessee Williams had scribbled. “The role of Maggie the Cat is waiting for you. Sharpen those claws of yours.”

  Boudoir games and dynastic politics: Paul Newman with Elizabeth Taylor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Eddie Fisher

  MATING GAMES WITH THE JEWISH SINATRA

  Hollywood gossip columnists buzzed with excitement at the teaming of Elizabeth with Paul Newman in the film version of a hot play by America’s leading playwright.

  “When the man with the glacial blue eyes meets the girl with the eyes of a spring violet, the great movie romance of the century will surely unfold,” one columnist wrote. “How can two such sex symbols resist the magnetism of each other?”

  Many stars had wanted to star in the film version of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. George Cukor had agreed to direct. At one point, he interpreted the adaptation of the Tennessee Williams drama as an ideal vehicle for Vivien Leigh (though she was too old) opposite Montgomery Clift. Paul Newman and Elvis Presley were among those considered for the male lead of Brick.

  After purchasing the film rights for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, MGM feared problems with the homoerotic subtext of its script. The explosive drama about a neurotic Southern plantation family had enthralled Broadway, but MGM felt it needed to “launder” this Pulitzer Prize-winning drama and remove any suspicion that Brick was a closeted homosexual still in love with his dead buddy, Skipper.