In the Golden age of Hollywood, few names are as infamous as Cary Grant. He was the very definition of dapper sophistication on the big screen. He could do drama, comedy, and was the most desired of romantic leads. Fans either wanted to be him or be with him. But the truth was far from the popular image on the screen. Cary Grant was born Archibald Leach in Bristol, England and the dark mysteries of his childhood led to his own invention of one of the most famous movie stars of all time. In this course, we will explore both the man and the myth through a selection of seven films plus discussion.
On January 18, 1904, Archibald Alexander Leach was born to Elias James Leach and Elsie Maria Kingdon Leach in the British seaport town of Bristol. Dad Elias pressed men’s suits and mom was a homemaker. From early on, Archie Leach learned the stature of a well-tailored suit. Dark-haired and handsome like their son, the Leaches lived a typical working-class existence in a cold stone house. But Archie would describe his childhood as a painful and an at-odds blend of both neglect and smothering.
Archie was not their first child. John William Elias Leach was born on February 9, 1899. He died right before his first birthday. According to family accounts, Elsie held John in her arms when a door accidentally was slammed on the baby’s thumb, with the nail becoming detached. By morning, baby John had died. The cause of death was stated by the coroner as tuberculosis meningitis.
By the time Archie was born, the fallout from his brother’s death would poison the household. It was a miserable home of simmering conflict. Alcoholism would become Elias’s lifelong companion. Elsie would attempt to compensate for the guilt of her firstborn’s accidental death by tethering Archie. According to biographer Scott Eyman, Archie’s own account, “My mother was not a happy woman,“ he would remember, “and I was not a happy child because my mother tried to smother me with care. She was so scared something would happen to me… She and my father fought about me constantly. He wanted her to let go. She couldn’t. I never spent a happy moment with them under the same roof. …”* His mother’s complex and unresolved emotional challenges would deeply influence how Archie viewed women for decades to come.
As Elsie silently battled the trauma, her husband decided to have her committed to an asylum. In a day and age when only his own account of his wife’s ‘hysteria’ was sufficient to institutionalize her. At the age of 38 years old, she was interred in February of 1915 and would reside there for more than 2 decades, until July of 1938. To make matters worse, Archie was told of his mother’s sudden and unexplained disappearance that she was simply on holiday. Nothing else was explained as time slogged on of his mother, who went from a constant and controlling presence in his life to her mysterious and permanent absence. He was barely eleven years old. His alcoholic father began living another woman and they went on to have another child out of wedlock, Eric Leach. Elias by and large ignored little Archie with a new family to attend, so he went to live with his grandmother, who was equally neglectful and cold. In these early years, Archie learned the pain of abandonment and that women were unreliable, controlling, and untrustworthy. He also possessed a survivor’s instinct that if he was ever going to seek fame, fortune, and a better life, he was on his own.
While attending a prep school, although he was naturally bright, Archie soon discovered he was drawn to the colorful, magical energy of the stage entertainers at the Bristol Hippodrome more than academics. A teacher (part-time science teacher/PT stage electrician) introduced him to the wondrous vaudeville venue and Archie was hooked immediately. Soon he took on his first gig- as a call boy, running around backstage calling cues for the next performers. The colorful costumes, the vibrant energy, the joyous family-like sense of community… young Archie knew he needed to be part of this.
“The Saturday matinee was in full swing when I arrived backstage,” he remembered, “and there I suddenly found my inarticulate self in a dazzling land of smiling, jostling people wearing and not wearing all sorts of costumes and doing all sorts of clever things. And that’s when I knew. What other life could there be but that of an actor? They happily traveled and toured. They were classless, cheerful, and carefree. They gaily laughed, lived, and loved.”*
In time, he moved from the Hippodrome to the Empire, a music hall where he expanded his skills to lighting duties. At age fourteen, he began a diary- an almost daily routine he continued for the rest of his life. In the year 1918, Archie was kicked out of school (likely due to excessive absenteeism, although it was claimed to be a peeping into the girls dressing room incident) and ran away from home at one point. It was also the year he wrote (under his father’s name) to Bob Pender, known for his troupe of acrobats, inquiring about an apprenticeship. Pender sent train fare to meet the troupe in Norwich and Archie was gone for a full 10 days before his father realized his whereabouts. In short time, with Archie no longer welcomed at school, Elias and Pender came to an agreed contract. Young 14-year-old Archie was embarking upon a new journey and life education now.
As a part of Pender’s troupe, even during WW1, Archie would plow through an exhausting list of dates and cities. During these years, Archie learned physicality, timing, and how to delight an audience. In the summer of 1920, he sailed on “The Olympic” for America with the other seven boys in the Pender act. He was fortunate to meet his idol, Douglas Fairbanks on the cross over. He would later go on to study Fairbanks and Noel Coward as inspiration for his transformation- in dress, manner, and voice. Upon arriving in New York, he would not return to his homeland for another nine years.
In May of 1922, Pender sent a letter home to Archie’s father stating the young lad was homesick and to expect his arrival, then gave Archie passage funds. But the eighteen-year-old Archie had no intentions of a homecoming. Instead, he sought a way out of his contract and took the money to start a new chapter in his life- as an independent actor in New York. Broke and no Pender housing provided, Archie found himself rooming with “Jack” Orry-Kelly, Jack Benny, George Burns in Greenwich Village. They pursued anything they could find within the vaudeville circuit- acrobats, magic acts, stilt-walking, or whatever got them on stage.
Orry-Kelly struggled as an actor, so he began making and selling neckties. For a time, Kelly and Leach were more successful designing and selling the ties, but the flexibility allowed Archie to make auditions. Meanwhile, George Burns and Gracie Allen continued to rise in popularity on stage. By summer of 1925, Archie joined a touring skit comedy act named, “Robinson, Janis, and Leach.” He was still ‘small time,’ but he was transitioning to the acting side of the stage, rather than pantomime. Oscar Hammerstein’s younger brother Reggie, suggested he was ready for musical comedy and cast him in “Golden Dawn.” While the racist jungle themes of the production were less than enviable, it landed him on Broadway for 184 performances for the 1927/1928 season. Although still very green, his reputation for charm offered him another Broadway contract with the Shuberts, including casting with Jeanette MacDonald.
He suffered a period of homesickness in 1929 and found his way home to Bristol. He was back in New York approximately a month later. Despite a Great Depression marching on, he was beginning to find steady stage work, as he continued to hone his acting craft (which still rough at this point), his self-education to make up for leaving school at 14, and his own devised accent. And whenever the subject of his upbringing or past would crop up in conversation, he would avoid/deflect or embellish the truth. Archie was already on his way to inventing Cary.
In May of 1931, while performing in the occasional production for the Shuberts, Paramount hired Archie for a small part in a film short, “Singapore Sue.” Director Casey Robinson (who would later screen write classics such as NOW, VOYAGER and DARK VICTORY) saw potential in Leach through his awkward entrance on film…
“I wrote a note to important executives at Paramount, none of whom I knew at the time, urging them to screen the short, not for my work but for that of a young actor whom I felt to be a sure-fire future star.”*
His last Broadway appearance under the name Archie Leach co-starred with Fay Wray opened in September of 1931 and closed on Halloween. Although the production of “Nikki” was brief, his mutual infatuation with Wray would endure for many years. At the time she was married to John Monk Saunders, who authored the series of short stories that evolved into the Broadway play. As such, no romance came to fruition despite the sparks, but Archie forever nicknamed her affectionately as, “Nikki.”
A turning point in his career came at the closing night party when Archie met Irene Mayer Selznick (wife of David O. Selznick and daughter of Louis B. Mayer). He made the decision to move to Hollywood. By December of 1931, his new identity was announced with his arrival in Tinsel Town. “Cary Grant” was signed with Paramount. His first name was a nod to his character in “Nikki.” In his instinctive sense of good timing, his transition from vaudeville/stage of New York to Hollywood- both the industry and the climate- would suit Cary like a glove.
In those early years with Paramount, Cary was learning his craft as an actor in forgettable films, as the choice roles were taken by A listers like Gary Cooper. His big break came with a George Cukor film co-starring Kate Hepburn, SYLVIA SCARLETT (1935). Both Cukor and Hepburn admitted the end results were doomed for disaster. It bombed with its confusing plot and messy translation from story into film. Not to mention, 1930s audiences may have not been ready for Hepburn in boyish drag. However, Cary shined. And many took notice. He portrayed a character closer to home, a cockney bloke not unlike Bristol’s Archie Leach. He leaned into his role and played it more naturally, in contrast to his over-the-top elements that worked for him for years in vaudeville and stage. His performance was suddenly neither campy nor wooden. He looked at ease in front of the camera. Cary Grant was finding his footing into his film persona, even though the polished and confident Cary was still in development.
Shortly after coming to Hollywood, Grant’s old roomie “Jack” Kelly arrived, as well. Unlike Grant, who was now earning a decent wage as a contract player and already purchased his 2nd Packard roadster, Kelly was struggling financially to break into the studio industry. So Cary helped him by becoming roommates again and months later, Grant’s agent got Kelly into the costume design department for First National Pictures. In less than a year, Kelly followed up as the head costume designer at Warner Brothers from 1932 to 1944. After Jack Warner fired him, he spent 3 years at Twentieth Century Fox, then he freelanced for the remainder of his career. Orry-Kelly was one of Hollywood’s top costume designers- earning him three Academy Awards [AN AMERICAN in PARIS (1951), LES GIRLS (1957), SOME LIKE IT HOT (1959), and an Oscar nomination for GYPSY (1962).
Australian born Orry George “Jack” Kelly (1897 – 1963) always possessed creative passions- mostly set and costume design, but also painting. He was known as the dress designer to the stars, most notably Bette Davis, Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner, and Kathrine Hepburn. Orry-Kelly’s demand for quality materials and his own drive for perfectionism created some of the most iconic visions in classic film. The clash of Grant’s frugality and career ambitions and Kelly’s hot temper and alcoholism often created frictions in their mercurial friendship.
In the summer of 1932, Cary invested as a partner in a men’s apparel store. Within a couple of months, debt collectors were threatening legal action. His money was gone, the business was over. All he had left was the remaining inventory, forcing him to sell shirts on set. But he walked away with the wisdom he thereafter carried from that harsh lesson. His trust issues and strict record-keeping frugality deepened.
It was during these early Paramount years, Cary shared residence with fellow fresh-faced Paramount contract actor, Randolph Scott, starting in May of 1933. The two were fast friends since co-starring with Nancy Carroll in HOT SATURDAY (1932) and the studio pushed them through the publicity blitz. At the time Cary was dating an actress, Virginia Cherrill, and he often behaved in a controlling manner. Rumors persisted of their engagement. Cherrill wanted to know more of his vague upbringing before agreeing to marry him, and set sail for the UK solo when she wanted to go and he didn’t. Grant and Scott followed. Randy only stayed for 2 weeks before returning to Hollywood. This trip was significant for two reasons. Cary convinced Cherrill to marry him (although they didn’t wed until February, in London). The real jaw-dropper was Cary’s father’s long overdue reveal to his son that his mother was still very much alive. Oddly, after this stunning shocker, Cary did visit his mother at the sanitarium, but he didn’t arrange for her release until a few years later.
Even with a reasonable offer to stay on with Paramount, Grant decided to leave so he wouldn’t play second banana to other male leads. In February of 1937, Cary signed a four-picture contract with Columbia Pictures. This would allow for more flexibility to take roles with other studios, other directors. This decision transitioned to Cary taking full control of the rest of his career as a freelance actor- a rarity in the studio era. Interestingly, when he was working untethered to a typical studio contract, Cary flourished and embraced some of his greatest successes.
Discovering his mother was actually still alive, was only one chapter in Cary’s journey of seeking a happier life and a better understanding of women. But it was a bumpy road. He was married a total of five times. Through each, he seemed to gain a better perspective of himself.
Virginia Cherrill … 1934 – 1935
Barbara Hutton … 1942 – 1945
Betsy Drake … 1949 – 1962
Dyan Cannon … 1965 – 1968
Barbara Harris … 1981 – 1986
While Cary shared an apartment with Randolph Scott starting in 1932 when the two were upstarts for Paramount, they continued for another five years at a beach house in Santa Monica after Grant’s divorce with Cherrill. Their illegible bachelor status was promoted heavily in the star magazines and their place was nicknamed, “Bachelor Hall.” While it was not unheard of for rising Hollywood male actors to room together (James Stewart and Henry Fonda, David Niven and Errol Flynn…), this duo was pushed harder through the publicity machine by far more so than most. Perhaps due to their Adonis-like physical beauty on the beach, this was gold to sell magazines. The images in media were carefully staged images of only the two in more intimate scenes of play and homelife. The reality for each actor was a very busy but differing schedules. On Sundays (generally their only day off from filming), it was a constant social scene of all-day parties, often poolside. According to interviews with the various women in their lives, Cary and Randy got along well, but led very different lives. According to biographer Mark Glancy,
“When Grant married Virginia Cherrill in 1934, an article in Modern Screen reassured readers that the two men were “still pals.” “Not even a wife could separate Cary and Randy,” it read, “but then, Virginia wouldn’t want to.” When Grant and Cherrill divorced a year later, Grant and Scott moved into the Santa Monica beach house they would live in for the next five years. During this time, Grant had lengthy relationships with actresses Mary Brian and Phyllis Brooks, while Scott married his childhood sweetheart, the heiress Marion duPont, and, after they split up, he dated the “jungle princess,” Dorothy Lamour. None of the people who knew them at this time thought that the two men were anything other than straight.”**
The purpose of bringing up this issue of Cary Grant and Randolph Scott’s friendship is to address the elephant in the room. Yes, closeted gay lifestyles were not uncommon in Hollywood. If one was gay or queer in Hollywood- or, really anywhere- in the 1930s (and decades to follow), it would be career suicide to be candid about one’s sexuality. Evidence and arguments can be presented for any aspect of Cary Grant’s sexuality. For both Grant and Scott, their former lovers, wives, and Grant’s own daughter Jennifer have attested that they were straight. Some gay men have stated the opposite. Gay rumors popped up occasionally and they shrugged it off, even as an insider joke in their film, MY FAVORITE WIFE (1940). In 1980, Chevy Chase called out Cary as a homosexual. He sued Chase for slander and won, forcing him to make a public retraction. As for the truth of his sexuality, you can decide for yourself.
Grant’s marriage to 2nd wife Barbara Hutton (b. 1912- d. 1979), the heir to the Woolworth’s fortune, brought some bad press. Due to her immense wealth, the public sentiment assumed he married her for her money. The press dubbed them, “Cash and Cary.” However, of Hutton’s seven husbands (Cary was her third) that included count and a prince, Grant was the only one who did not need, nor did he seek out, her name, fame, or money in the marriage or the divorce. A mostly self-educated man, Grant didn’t feel comfortable with Hutton’s high-brow friends, but he undoubtedly studied every single mannerism.
On Christmas day in 1949, Cary married Betsy Drake. They co-starred in two films- EVERY GIRL SHOULD BE MARRIED (1948) and ROOM FOR ONE MORE (1952). They met on an Atlantic crossing on the Queen Mary in 1947. She was the lead in a London play, which just finished, and she was headed back to America. A naturally curious woman and veracious reader, Betsy was very keen about new age psychology and in helping her husband’s dark troubles of his past via the latest trends in psychoanalysis. This was in the very early days of LSD as a form of treatment. Over time, Cary would go under over one hundred sessions with LSD in therapy. He claimed it gave him a breakthrough.
In his brief marriage with Dyan Cannon, they had one child, Cary’s only biological child, Jennifer, born in 1966. Having come through the other side of deeper psychoanalysis and facing the inner turmoil of his relations with women and of his issues with his upbringing, Cary was finally ready to make peace with Archie Leach. More importantly, he couldn’t think of anything more worthy than being a father. He retired from his film career and devoted all his time to her. The marriage with Cannon didn’t last long, but his loyalty to Jennifer was unyielding. He was truly happy.
He did engage in a couple of business interests in his post-film ‘retirement’ like serving on the boards of directors for both Metro Goldwyn-Mayer and for Faberge Cosmetics. He met a hotel PR agent, Barbara Harris, while at a convention representing Faberge in 1976 in London. They became friends and in time it developed into a romantic relationship. She moved into his California home in 1979 and they married in 1981. She was 47 years younger, but they were described as a very happy couple. Cary described the last few years of his life as the happiest. With Barbara by his side, in his more relaxed self and finally at peace, he decided to go on tour- via small towns with a simple Q-and-A format on-stage appearance. Someone else provided the questions, he was finally ready to give some answers. Very much dapper in his eighth decade of life, but finally at ease with both Archie and Cary. In a hotel in Davenport, Iowa, Cary Grant suffered a stroke and later died on November 29, 1986. He was 82 years old. Barbara Harris remarried in 2001- to David Jaynes, a Bonner Springs, Kansas High School grad, an all-American quarterback at the University of Kansas, and Heisman finalist.
In this course, we will explore this man who was born as a neglected, hungry kid Archie Leach and died as a highly successful and legendary movie star named Cary Grant. He survived a traumatic upbringing and invented an entirely new person, which resulted in an incredible journey of self-discovery, manifested in enormous talent, beauty, and determination. We will dive deeper into the details of his film career, as we explore a selection of his films and discuss.
*The above piece was introduced to my class, Cary Grant Film Study, in the fall of 2023. This was presented as a handout on the first session, along with a PowerPoint I created, and we screened the documentary, “Becoming Cary Grant.” In the coming weeks, I will share my handouts from the films we screened. I teach film study courses in-person in the college town of Lawrence, Kansas where we encourage an engaging and passionate study of classic film.
Sources:
*“Cary Grant, A Brilliant Disguise.” By Scott Eyman. 2020. Simon and Schuster.
**”From Cary Grant, the Making of a Hollywood Legend.” By Mark Glancy. 2020. Oxford University Press.
“Cary Grant: Shocking Moment Hitchcock Star Discovered his ‘Dead’ Mother was Alive” by Dr. Mark Glancy. Express.co.uk. March 11, 2021
“Legendary Cary Grant, Tall Dark and Handsome.” By Pierre Montiel. (https://legendarycarygrant.com/ )
“The Ultimate Cary Grant Pages.” By Debbie Dunlap. (https://carygrant.net/ )
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