Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor ponder their, um, Jewishness.
Liz and Dick.
Married, divorced, then married again and divorced once more, they were Hollywood’s greatest power couple since Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, Sr.
Paparazzi followed their every move. Their lavish lifestyle made headlines across the globe. Richard Burton, the son of an alcoholic Welsh miner, and Elizabeth Taylor, Hollywood’s greatest star, made the marriage of the century.
They met and fell in love on the set of Cleopatra. Of course, both were married. Burton to Sybil Williams, a down-to-earth Welsh woman, who tolerated Richard’s numerous affairs, confident that he would always return to her and their two daughters, Kate and Jessica. Welshmen did not abandon their family. That was understood.
Taylor, raised not by her parents, but in the rarefied MGM bubble, was already on her fourth husband, crooner Eddie Fisher (born, Edwin John Tisch), whom, according to the press, Elizabeth stole from Debbie Reynolds, after the tragic death of Mike Todd, Taylor’s one true love.
Elizabeth Taylor said that Todd was a bit of a madman, admitting that she could “only be content with a man who’s a bit crazy.”
And Burton, a volatile mix of raw theatrical talent — he was a mediocre movie actor — romantic grandiosity, and self-loathing, was a perfect fit, Taylor-made, if you will: furiously crazy.
They enjoyed heaping insults upon one another. Burton called Elizabeth “my little Jewish tart.” Taylor had converted to Judaism to marry Avrom Hirsch Goldbogen, AKA Mike Todd.
Elizabeth ridiculed Burton’s pockmarked skin.
He made fun of her tendency to gain weight.
Elizabeth played to Burton’s incandescent jealousy: “There are countries where they like women with a little meat on them. If they hadn’t banned my films because I’m pro-Israel, those Arabs would be drooling over me. Just take care I don’t meet a rich sheik.”
This was foreplay. They would make up by making love and then giving each other extravagant gifts. He bought her diamonds fit for a queen. She bought him a Van Gogh or a Picasso, and with the sole of her high-heel pound a nail into the wall, hanging the masterpiece over their fireplace.
More than anything, it was her Jewishness which Burton loved to tease and taunt. When Mike Todd was killed in a plane crash, Elizabeth found comfort in Judaism. “I am absolutely Jewish now in my beliefs and feelings,” she said.
At her conversion, Elizabeth Taylor took the Jewish name Elisheva Rachel.
In the compulsively readable Furious Love, Sam Kashner and Nancy Schoenberger report on the serious fights Burton and Taylor had over Jewishness
“My great-grandfather,” Burton told a reporter, “was a Polish Jew named Jan Ysar, and that was the family name until they changed it to Jenkins. [Burton's real name was Richard Walter Jenkins.] It’s true. I’m one-eighth Jewish. Elizabeth hasn’t a drop of Jewish blood. I’ve told her so. It makes her furious.” Earlier, during the making of The Night of the Iguana, in a thatched roof bar in Puerto Vallarta, a drunken Burton had announced, “I was born a Jew. I am perhaps the very oldest of the really ancient Jews.”
Of course, according to halacha, classical Jewish law, Judaism is determined through matrilineal descent or through a proper, halachic conversion. There is no such thing as Jewish blood.
But Burton, as much as he adored Taylor, was always in competition with her. She was a true star, and he was often referred to as, “Mr. Elizabeth Taylor.” Putting her down, diminishing her stature, was an obsession with Burton. After all, he was a classically trained actor who could recite Shakespeare backwards. Whereas Taylor had, according to Burton, no technique, and couldn’t tell Hamlet from Macbeth.
And yet, and yet, when he saw her on screen, he marveled at her stillness, her ability to do so much with the smallest gesture. She was, he knew, deep in his heart, a brilliant movie actress. The camera read her thoughts, while he shouted bug-eyed speeches.
Thus, it’s no surprise, that Burton picked at her Jewishness, for Judaism gave Elizabeth Taylor an identity beyond actress and notorious adulterer.
“You’re not Jewish at all,” he told Elizabeth in one of their very public fights—which members of their staff had taken to timing. “If there’s any Jew in this family, it’s me!”
“I am Jewish,” she answered. “And you can f**** off!”
When most Hollywood Jews were in full flight from their Judaism, changing their names, marrying non-Jewish partners, raising children alienated from Judaism, and heaping scorn on their observant brethren, it’s ironic, bizarrely amusing, if not something of a consolation, to see Burton and Taylor trying to, well, out-Jew each other.
Ariel Chaim Avrech, ZT'L, May His Righteous Memory be a Blessing.
19 Comments
When I was a college student, my roommate and I saw A Place in the Sun at least 50 times. That was when it came out and was her first adult role. I think we all saw ourselves as Monty in a hopeless love affair. Fifty years later, I can’t work up the same emotional reaction. It was something about that age.
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Unique among actors, I always thought that Burton projected an undeniable hint of self-loathing, which you could see in his eyes in every scene. It was probably largely invisible onstage, from a distance, but under the camera’s gaze it was undeniable, and I think it coloured every role he took. You could never believe him as a strong man, and he was quite impossible as a hero, what with that faintly hostile, paranoid glare. It was perhaps suitable in the anxious ’60s and ’70s, when the anti-hero was on the rise, but after that it diminished his performances, even in retrospect. She, on the other hand, had a ferocious sense of her own worth, and showed it. I can see why they were so painfully attracted to each other.
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I agree with Rick about that hint of self-loathing. I also agree with Robert that he wasn’t much of a film actor, although sometimes I wonder if Edward Albee wrote his play prophetically anticipating the future casting of Burton & Taylor. He was all voice. Many years ago I heard on radio a recording of Burton doing Dylan Thomas’s “Under Milk Wood.” Astonishing narration. I don’t know if it was a playing of the 1954 recording, but it stays with me to this day.
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Rick
I agree with your astute reading of Burton’s screen personae. He was guilt-ridden beyond imagination for certain choices he had made in his life and his self-loathing shows. At a certain point in his career he was drinking so much that he could barely perform on-screen for more than a few hours at a time. His tremors were visible.
His very best film performance is in his last movie, 1984, (1984) as O’Brien, a Big Brother torturer. Burton plays his scenes with quiet intensity, and puts a tight leash on his tendency to recite every line as if Dylan Thomas poetry.
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Richard Harris, a peer and drinking buddy of Burton’s, had the same tendency to histrionics, and a shouty delivery. But he was a man much more comfortable in his own skin, and capable of a naughty, almost preadolescent joy. Another anti-hero type – the era was rife with them – but his best performances are far superior to Burton’s.
Also, yes, more movie posts please. Provided, of course, that the worst doesn’t happen in two weeks. (knocks wood) In which case all bets are off. (That said, Robert, I can help you and the family find a lovely place up here in Toronto. Real estate values up here are sort of brutal, tho.)
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When Elizabeth Taylor died I heard the news as I was leaving the house for work. I got into my truck, turned it on, and the CD in the player started up.
The song it was playing was Richard Burton, as King Arthur, singing “How to Handle a Woman.”
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DrCarol – sounds like he never learned
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It’s nice to read a good Hollywood story again. Perhaps we can return to more after Nov 6th.
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Joe – I still remember Robert’s story of Liz, just finishing filming Giant – s taking Carroll Baker to lunch in her Caddy, hits some poor shlub and nonchalantly (in true Hollywood diva form) drives on to lunch.
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hits some poor shlub
As I recall, Lindsay Lohan did the same recently, but in these egalitarian times, no one finds it in the least endearing.
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Kishke – I think even in these times – Liz could still pull it of…but Lindsay is just….Lindsay.
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I don’t think so, Bill. Not in the days of the paprazzi.
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Prophet Joe:
Yes, after the election we must get back to more movie posts.
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If you can get those Icons Radio interviews there is a great interview with Kate Burton
On Liz – she was devastated with the death of Mike Todd – went within days/weeks to filming Cat On A Hot Tin Roof
On Eddie Fisher – think it was Debbie who said years later “He went to Liz to console her over Todd, and ended up consoling her with his p****.
Years later, when she was married to Burton, Liz booked a cruise and on ship discovered Debbie was also on this ship. They ended up having a good talk.
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Bill:
I could not disagree with you more re Icons Radio. John Mulhooland seems unprepared and totally out of it. He get as little as possible out of potentially informed and informative guests. I suppose they have little to do and are pelased at being asked. If they are sharp they cannot be pleased at the result.
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Who’s afraid of Virginia Wolfowitz?
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I’ll have to get that book, Robert. The Burton / Taylor romance fascinates me (as does the whole Cleopatra fiasco; do you know if there’s ever been a good book written on that?).
Years ago, I heard a story from someone who was with Burton in (I believe) the RSC or the RADA. Burton was a gifted mimic and was doing a devastating impersonation of Gielgud when the class went silent. Burton turned around to see Sir John standing there.
“Mr Burton,” he told the red-faced actor, “as a rule, good impersonators do not make very good actors.”
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Christopher:
Here’s a pretty good article from Vanity Fair about Cleopatra.
http://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/features/1998/03/elizabeth-taylor-199803
There have been a few books written about he production, but I have not read any of them.
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Robert – I think – looking at the Special Features of The Longest Day – that movie saved 20th Century Fox – almost bled dry by the hemorrhaging of Cleopatra.
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