Remembering Diana Dors

THE DRAYCOTT HOTEL, London, and the GEORGE V, Paris

(This musing originally appeared in April 2013)

Classic Diana Dors circa 1954 (RKO)

She was widely known as the British Marilyn Monroe.  I wonder how many people today even remember Diana Dors, the hugely popular movie star of the 1950’s.  

Before I begin, let me point out that I never officially met Diana Dors.  Our paths did cross, however, and on several occasions.  

A popular Dors at the Cannes Film Festival 1955 (Corbis photo)

I remember once seeing a photo which captured magnificently the 20^th century phenomenon of celebrity and paparazzi.  It was a black and white shot showing D.D. arriving at the Venice film festival.  She was riding in a gondola, wearing a mink bikini.  The photo showed hundreds of photographers hanging off buildings and in every conceivable location to capture the blonde actress during her 15 minutes of superstardom.

By 1969, D.D. was becoming decidedly blowsy, and her film stardom was pretty much in the past.  She had great resilience, however, and made a serious comeback that year on the London stage in a highly successful comedy-drama "Three Months Gone" at the pretigious Royal Court Theatre.

With husband Alan Lake 1968 (AP)

Happy couple

  She had recently married Alan Lake, a former truck driver and sometime-actor with a penchant for brawling which would on occasion land him in prison.  He was at least a dozen years her junior (her own age was never clearly established), and  bookmakers gave the marriage, her third, poor odds. 

I had requested an interview, and the theatre’s press person arranged a meeting at the Draycott Hotel around the corner from the Sloane Square theatre.  The interview was scheduled after the evening performance.  I had already seen the show, and had a few drinks with friends before heading for my rendez-vous.  I was thoroughly irresponsible in those days, and I arrived at the hotel’s little bar ten or fifteen minutes late.

 

The Draycott Hotel today (Draycott photo)

 Miss Dors had wasted no time hanging around, and rightly so, the interview consequently coming to nil.  The next morning the press lady called to see how the encounter had gone.  I told her the star had not appeared, neglecting to mention my own tardiness.  “That bitch,” she snapped.

Even then I felt guilty at my singular lack of honesty.

Early British poster (Hammer Films)

* * * * * * *

 More than a decade later, walking up the Champs-Elysées in Paris one Sunday afternoon, I noticed a seriously overweight woman attracting a lot of attention.  She was dressed in a tight, red dress with inappropriately plunging cleavage,  inappropriate for both her age and her weight.  Her shoulder-length hair was platinum white, and she was wearing full stage makeup and then some.  I suddenly realized it was Diana Dors.

She was accompanied by the same husband, and despite the poor odds, they still seemed  devoted to each other.

The later years... (google)

 They were window-shopping in one of those arcades for tourists.  A little crowd had gathered around, but it had nothing to do with Diana Dors, the movie star, who was by now quite forgotten … at least in Paris.   

Bystanders were staring because the old girl was so grotesquely over the top.  I felt deeply sad for her, although she seemed happy enough, and her husband looked at her as though she were still the glamour girl of bygone days.

They were on the way back to their hotel, the George V, (now a Four Seasons), which for most of the 20^th Century was -- like the Savoy in London -- the Parisian hotel most favored by actors.  I heard them discussing the route to take, as they may have been slightly lost.

The Four Seasons George V today

I was tempted to offer assistance.  I really wanted to tell her that I recognized her, that I had admired her work on the stage that time in 1969.  That I remembered the extraordinary photo of her in the mink bikini.  I know she would have liked the recognition, but regretfully I said nothing.

I watched them walk away, hand in hand, and then turn down Avenue George V towards the hotel.

Diana Dors died of cancer the following year.  She was still news back in England, and most of the papers carried her obituary on the front page.  The pundits had declared that the marriage would never last.  In truth, Alan Lake couldn’t live without her.  He put a bullet through his head soon after her funeral.

Arrival Cannes Film Festival with Ginger Rogers 1955 (Google)

      SIDEBAR:  The Royal Film Premiere of “Staircase”                           

 (the Taylor-Burtons, Princess Margaret, and another glimpse of Diana Dors)

"Staircase" poster.  It got a lot of attention, but the film flopped!

I did run into Diana Dors again, though only from afar.  It was the Spring of 1970, my last months in London, and I found myself at the Royal Premiere of Staircase, a  Stanley Donen  film starring Richard Burton and Rex Harrison.

Some top director at UPI had been invited to the formal reception preceding the film.  Indifferent, he had left the single invitation up for grabs in the newsroom ...  just in case someone might wish to go. 

The Burtons about the same time (Google)

 As no one else showed any interest, I was only too happy to rent the mandatory tuxedo, and set out for the Odeon Cinema off Piccadilly Circus.  I never expected the invitation to entitle me to anything other than admittance to the film, so I was astounded to find myself with a handful of VIPs in a tiny roped-off red carpet area alongside the Taylor-Burtons, Princess Margaret, the grand old stage actress Cathleen Nesbitt (who played Burton’s mother) and various cinema executives. 

I didn’t actually have any conversation with any of the aforementioned celebrities, but I thoroughly enjoyed sipping champagne while listening to them talk to each other. 

Princess Margaret (Corbis Image)

  Princess Margaret to Elizabeth Taylor:  “Is this the new diamond everyone’s talking about?”

E. Taylor to Princess M.:  “Oh, no, the new one is so much nicer, but the insurance people won’t let me wear it yet.”

Anonymous film executive to R. Burton:  “Will you be staying in London long?”

R. Burton to anonymous:  “We live here actually.  We’re keeping our apartment at the Dorchester, at least until the summer.”

The whole little pre-film reception shouldn’t have lasted more than 15 minutes, but as the Taylor-Burtons were delayed for about three quarters of an hour (they were driving in from Switzerland that day), I had the added bonus of listening to  various snide comments about their tardiness.  Princess Margaret waited in a private office until they made their entrance, but her husband, Lord Snowdon, made repeated, irritated enquiries about the stars’ whereabouts.

When the famous couple finally did arrive, Princess Margaret initially seemed frosty, but E. T. was so exquisitely beautiful and so supremely gracious that everyone seemed to melt before her charms.

During that time I saw a number of lesser celebrities herded behind a plexiglass barrier, up a stairway into the cinema.  One of these was Diana Dors, whom I vividly remember being pushed back away from the little VIP area.  She was laughing loudly and craning her neck, none too discreetly trying to get a glimpse of Liz and Richard and Margaret …. and me.

Liz and partial view of Richard ... and THE diamond (AP)

Your input is welcomed:  frank.pleasants@libertysurf.fr

CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings

The Taylor-Burtons were also featured in:  blog No. 20, "Decafeinated coffee ... in Hungarian?" Jan. 11, 2013 (to access, click on above title).