feeling.
“Audrey
Hepburn is a young actress of charm, honesty and talent,” raved Brooks
Atkinson in the
New York Times.
“Miss Hepburn is as fresh and frisky as a puppy out of a tub,” wrote
Walter Kerr in the
New York Herald
Tribune,
adding, “She brings a candid innocence and a tomboy
intelligence to a part that might have gone sticky, and her performance comes
like a breath of fresh air in a stifling season.”
Audrey
was literally an overnight sensation. Producer Miller was completely won over.
At the Fulton Theater he advised the stagehands to change the marquee. Before
opening night, it had read: “GIGI with Audrey Hepburn.” Afterward, it
said: “AUDREY HEPBURN in GIGI.”
On
that fateful opening night of Gigi, a star wasn’t so much born as baptized.
Now
she had a harder task ahead. Having been branded a celebrity, Audrey could no
longer retreat into the cocoon of obscurity. Once the flashbulbs started
popping, they never stopped.
Chapter 11
It
would never let her down, even as she grew older and wrinkled. The camera loved
Audrey like a best friend.
And
after her difficult (if ultimately successful) introduction to the stage in Gigi, she returned to movies as if
running home to Mother.
Eminent
director William Wyler embraced her like a prodigal daughter. The overseer of
Academy Award-winning films like
Mrs.
Miniver
and
The Best Years of Our
Lives
had been trying to cast the leading role in
Roman Holiday
for several years, ever since director Frank Capra
had passed on the sweet, escapist comedy.
Those
in
Hollywood
who read the screenplay found it irresistible. Originally conceived by the
blacklisted writer Dalton Trumbo,
Roman
Holiday
never had a chance at being produced until Trumbo asked his
colleague, Ian McLellan Hunter, to front for him to help get the movie off the
ground. The story of a princess who momentarily ignores her royal duties for an
adventurous romp with a street-smart reporter was a sweet variation on the
Cinderella myth. It had settings and characters that would appeal to highbrows
and lowbrows alike.
Yet
finding an actress to portray Princess Anne, an impish young woman severely constrained
by the duties of her position, was a daunting task. She had to be beautiful but
innocent, alluring yet untouchable. After Wyler failed to come up with a
suitable candidate (Elizabeth Taylor had been interested five years before,
when she wanted to star opposite Cary Grant), Paramount Pictures hired Paul
Stein as a test director to interview and film actresses in fifteen-minute
audition pieces.
The
studio was attempting to eke out advance publicity on
Roman Holiday,
and approached the search for Princess Anne much as
David O. Selznick had the casting of Scarlett O’Hara in
Gone With the Wind.
Audrey
did her audition in
London
before she left for Broadway and the opening of
Gigi
. A small indication of her growing power is that she requested
that Thorold Dickinson, her director on
The
Secret People,
be allowed to film her for the test. Her wish was granted.
Wyler had remembered her from a bit part in
Laughter
in Paradise
and was smitten enough with her elegant beauty to capitulate to
her wish.
“She
completely looked the part of a princess,” he said. “A real, live,
bona fide princess. And when she opened her mouth, you were sure you’d found a
princess. The one variable was: Could she act like a princess?”
At
the time, Audrey wasn’t sure she even wanted to continue acting at all; the
more frightened she became, the more readily she found solace in the prospect
of marrying James Hanson and settling down in Huddersfield as a dutiful wife.
Despite
her reluctance, however, she was extremely impressive on the audition film,
especially in the off-guard moments when she assumed the camera had stopped
rolling. She was seated on a bed for the scene, and when
Dickinson
told her they were finished and she
could get off of it, she winked.
“I
didn’t hear anybody say ‘Cut,’ ” she
“Audrey
Hepburn is a young actress of charm, honesty and talent,” raved Brooks
Atkinson in the
New York Times.
“Miss Hepburn is as fresh and frisky as a puppy out of a tub,” wrote
Walter Kerr in the
New York Herald
Tribune,
adding, “She brings a candid innocence and a tomboy
intelligence to a part that might have gone sticky, and her performance comes
like a breath of fresh air in a stifling season.”
Audrey
was literally an overnight sensation. Producer Miller was completely won over.
At the Fulton Theater he advised the stagehands to change the marquee. Before
opening night, it had read: “GIGI with Audrey Hepburn.” Afterward, it
said: “AUDREY HEPBURN in GIGI.”
On
that fateful opening night of Gigi, a star wasn’t so much born as baptized.
Now
she had a harder task ahead. Having been branded a celebrity, Audrey could no
longer retreat into the cocoon of obscurity. Once the flashbulbs started
popping, they never stopped.
Chapter 11
It
would never let her down, even as she grew older and wrinkled. The camera loved
Audrey like a best friend.
And
after her difficult (if ultimately successful) introduction to the stage in Gigi, she returned to movies as if
running home to Mother.
Eminent
director William Wyler embraced her like a prodigal daughter. The overseer of
Academy Award-winning films like
Mrs.
Miniver
and
The Best Years of Our
Lives
had been trying to cast the leading role in
Roman Holiday
for several years, ever since director Frank Capra
had passed on the sweet, escapist comedy.
Those
in
Hollywood
who read the screenplay found it irresistible. Originally conceived by the
blacklisted writer Dalton Trumbo,
Roman
Holiday
never had a chance at being produced until Trumbo asked his
colleague, Ian McLellan Hunter, to front for him to help get the movie off the
ground. The story of a princess who momentarily ignores her royal duties for an
adventurous romp with a street-smart reporter was a sweet variation on the
Cinderella myth. It had settings and characters that would appeal to highbrows
and lowbrows alike.
Yet
finding an actress to portray Princess Anne, an impish young woman severely constrained
by the duties of her position, was a daunting task. She had to be beautiful but
innocent, alluring yet untouchable. After Wyler failed to come up with a
suitable candidate (Elizabeth Taylor had been interested five years before,
when she wanted to star opposite Cary Grant), Paramount Pictures hired Paul
Stein as a test director to interview and film actresses in fifteen-minute
audition pieces.
The
studio was attempting to eke out advance publicity on
Roman Holiday,
and approached the search for Princess Anne much as
David O. Selznick had the casting of Scarlett O’Hara in
Gone With the Wind.
Audrey
did her audition in
London
before she left for Broadway and the opening of
Gigi
. A small indication of her growing power is that she requested
that Thorold Dickinson, her director on
The
Secret People,
be allowed to film her for the test. Her wish was granted.
Wyler had remembered her from a bit part in
Laughter
in Paradise
and was smitten enough with her elegant beauty to capitulate to
her wish.
“She
completely looked the part of a princess,” he said. “A real, live,
bona fide princess. And when she opened her mouth, you were sure you’d found a
princess. The one variable was: Could she act like a princess?”
At
the time, Audrey wasn’t sure she even wanted to continue acting at all; the
more frightened she became, the more readily she found solace in the prospect
of marrying James Hanson and settling down in Huddersfield as a dutiful wife.
Despite
her reluctance, however, she was extremely impressive on the audition film,
especially in the off-guard moments when she assumed the camera had stopped
rolling. She was seated on a bed for the scene, and when
Dickinson
told her they were finished and she
could get off of it, she winked.
“I
didn’t hear anybody say ‘Cut,’ ” she
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