Runaway Soprano

by Jennie Johanson

Maria Callas. Anne Frank. Adolf Hitler. Mel Torme. Winston Churchill. What did all of these people have in common? They were all ardent fans of Deanna Durbin. Who is this person who could awaken admiration from such diverse people?

Born in Winnipeg, Canada to English parents on December 4th, 1921 “Edna Mae” Durbin was the youngest child of two girls. From an early age, Edna possessed a naturally beautiful voice, sometimes performing at church or singing for the neighbors. However, it wasn’t until she was ten years old that her sister Edith, who was eleven years older, recognized her unbelievable gift.

It happened one night while the two girls were left at home together. Edith listened attentively as her little sister sang the traditional English song, “Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes.” “That was lovely Edna,” she said, “Why don’t you sing it again and I’ll accompany you on the piano?” The two girls sat together for an hour, Edith playing, Edna singing. When their parents returned later that night after Edna was in bed, Edith told her father very seriously, “I think Edna has a great future as an opera singer.” She knew that he could not afford the kind of education Edna would need to go into such a profession, so she said, “I’m so sure of Edna’s talent, that I’ll pay for her singing lessons with the money I get from teaching.”

The truth is, the Durbin family had fallen on hard times, as had many other people in America at the time. They had moved from Canada to California several years prior, because the weather was better for Mr. Durbin’s health. He worked very hard as a welder and took whatever other manual labor jobs he could find. “His clever hands, combined with my mother’s intelligent housekeeping got us all through the Depression,” Edna would later reminisce. However, he still struggled with health problems. Her parents never expected that their youngest daughter would soon be providing an income for them, but soon the door to an incredible opportunity opened for them.

MGM prided itself as being the studio that had “more stars than there are in the heavens,” and they were always on the lookout for new talent. One day, an agent named Jack Sherill visited Edna’s school, which was only seven miles away from the studio. MGM was going to make a bio-pic about the famous contralto, Ernestine Schumann-Heink, and they needed a little girl with a remarkable voice to portray the diva’s early years. Sherill was very impressed by Edna’s part in the recital and told the little girl and her mother that she should audition at MGM.

The day arrived, and Edna and her mother entered the gates of MGM with great anticipation. The young songstress had already tried out at Disney for the singing voice of Snow White, only to be told that her voice was “too mature” for the part. Deanna would later say of her MGM audition, “I sang for one executive who went out and got another executive and I sang again, and I sang again. Each time I sang there was a lot of whispered consultation and someone else was sent for. I must have sung about ten times in all.” Louis B. Mayer himself was away in New York at the time, but his executives called him up and the twelve year old sang “Il Bacio” to him over the phone. He made her an offer right then and there.

The deciding moment came later, however. “I remember when [my father] came to pick up mother and me from the studio. Dad looked pale and sick. He had fainted twice and the doctor had told him that he had to stop working for quite a while. He was desperate. ‘Would it help Dad,’ I asked, ‘if I brought home a hundred dollars a week? The studio wants you to come back tomorrow and sign a contract for me.’ I’ll never forget the look on his face, the happy tears in his eyes.”

After becoming the newest MGM property, Edna started going to school with other young MGM employees, including Mickey Rooney, Judy Garland and Freddie Bartholomew. However, the studio decided against making the movie about opera singer Schumann-Heink, and from that point, they were unsure of what to do with her. Another talented adolescent, Judy Garland, posed the same problems. Judy would go on to say: “They didn’t know what to do with thirteen year old girls…I mean, you either had to be a munchkin, or you had to be…well…eighteen or something.”

Finally, they put the two prodigies together in a movie short called Every Sunday. To cut costs, the studio had decided to keep only one of the girls under contract, so after watching the eleven minute film, Mayer told one of his staffers to “drop the fat one.” He was referring to Judy Garland, but there was a misunderstanding and Edna’s contract was cancelled instead. “For me this was the end,” the star would later recall, “My dog Tippy and I went for a long walk. I was crying bitterly and decided that I’d kill myself-I couldn’t go back to school a failure.” Providentially, a talent scout from Universal Studios also saw Every Sunday, and decided that she was just the person they were looking for to play the youngest sister in their new picture, Three Smart Girls.

Universal didn’t like the name “Edna” and asked the girl to change her name. She chose “Deanna” because it reminded her of a nickname her sister used to call her: “Dee Dee.” Deanna found the experience of making movies very new and exciting. “I liked the people with whom I worked and after the nervousness of the first day, I felt completely at ease in front of the camera.” Three Smart Girls was a huge success; everyone left the theatre talking about the little girl with the lovely lyric soprano voice, brilliant blue eyes, and charming and vivacious personality. Because business was so poor due to the depression, Universal studios had been about to file bankruptcy and shut down. However, the profits from Deanna’s first two films were so great, that the studio was saved. It irritated MGM head Louis B. Mayer to see a such a remarkable talent, which he let slip through his fingers, making so much money for his rival.

“Deanna Durbin” became a huge star all at once. Dolls were made of her. She won an Academy Award. Her face graced the cover of dozens of magazines. She had her own perfume and line of clothing. Her first screen kiss made the headlines. In the late 1930s, Deanna’s movies accounted for 17 percent of Universal’s total profits, which is an amazing amount for one performer making approximately two movies a year. There was a price for fame, though. “I hated being in a goldfish bowl. If I went to New York, I had to stay in my hotel room or go everywhere under guard, whisked away in a big black limousine, terrified that the fans running alongside would get hurt in the traffic. My mother and I were once mobbed in Texas: the police lost control of the crowd and my mother suffered two broken ribs from people trying to reach me. I have never been so frightened. They put me in the town jail for safety and to avoid the mob still waiting at the station, they flagged the train down in the middle of nowhere, where I got on safely.”

Another difficulty was that the studio wanted to keep her movie persona the same, even as she grew older. Deanna felt more mature than the characters she was playing. While making the sequel to her first film, she and a young man who worked at the studio began seriously dating. She had met Vaughn Paul prior to this, but only casually. They started going to dances, movies, football games and races together. In December of 1940, the couple announced their engagement. Deanna was just nineteen years old. Initially she wanted a simple wedding held at her parent’s house, but instead the marriage ceremony became a highly publicized affair with many famous people from the movie industry in attendance. Thousands of fans flocked outside the church, and the 45 policemen were stationed around the building to keep the peace.

Vaughn Paul had recently become an associate producer at Universal, but the movie he had been assigned to work on was not doing well. Vaughn grew bitter as Deanna’s success only increased. His humiliation at being outdone by his wife became a divisive issue in their marriage. Deanna would go on to say, “I work very hard; very hard trying to make good pictures. But no matter how good the critics thought they were, Vaughn would always find fault with them. It was very discouraging.” Over time, their love ebbed away, and soon living together became unbearable. Her husband would often stay out late nights without any explanation, and when he was around, it seemed like all they did was fight. Sadly, they filed for divorce in 1943, only two years after they had so optimistically wed. 

This was difficult for the studio to accept, especially since divorce was so scandalous at the time. “When my first marriage failed everyone said that I could never divorce. It would ruin the ‘image’. How could anyone really think I was going to spend the rest of my life with a man I didn’t love, just for the sake ‘of an image’?!” Deanna questioned. She continued to work, and when possible, spent time with her sister’s family. She adored her young niece and nephew, and being a good aunt to them helped her not to feel quite so alone. Of course, her work as an actress and singer kept her busy, as she continued to star in movies and make live appearances.

Since America was in the midst of the Second World War, Deanna had the opportunity to entertain the troops. Not only would she sing for them, but to break the ice she would visit their service clubs, eat with them in the mess hall, and even serve meals. To keep her performances light and friendly, Deanna chose less operatic material in favor of popular selections such as George Gershwin’s “Embraceable You.” In turn, the soldiers would get such a thrill out of hearing her live, and go crazy stomping and cheering after her each song. Afterwards, she would cry because it was such an emotional experience. “They seemed so happy, and I felt just the opposite. You do so little and they think it’s wonderful, and the whole thing’s out of proportion.”

One touching story involving the war years didn’t come to Deanna’s attention until quite awhile afterwards. There was a group of Americans were imprisoned by the Japanese and kept under horrific conditions. Their captors tried every method of humiliation they could to break their spirits, including telling them that Deanna Durbin had died a horrible death while giving birth to her first child. The prisoners were heartbroken and even decided to hold a small memorial service for her.

One day, about a year later, one of them made a makeshift radio which was able to receive news from San Francisco. While listening to it, Deanna’s voice came on the air announcing her next song, and she began singing! The good news spread, and while the prisoners secretly rejoiced, they had to be very careful not to show it. The camp was liberated in 1945, and years later, Deanna received a letter explaining how hearing her voice had brought them so much joy. She wrote back by saying: “Your letter told me so beautifully of your feelings…now, I shall try and tell you mine. To start with, there were tears. Then a sort of overwhelmed happiness that you managed to contact me and that after all these many years I am able to keep and cherish your letter with its fabulous happy ending!”

After the war ended, Deanna married her second husband, Felix Jackson, a man who had worked on several of her movies. At this point, the star was genuinely frustrated about being cast in the same type of role. It wasn’t that she was disliked her movies, but she longed to branch out and have more creative input about which parts she was to play. In 1944, Felix gave her the chance to do something completely different, and cast her in a dark dramatic role in the film, Christmas Holiday. “I was scared to death to do it,” said Deanna “But I wanted to do it more than any picture I have ever made. I’ve done romantic comedies so long that I just didn’t know whether or not I’d be capable of playing a dramatic part.” Deanna poured her heart and soul into her character Jackie, a fallen woman whose descent is brought on by her husband’s shocking crime. However, nobody liked seeing their favorite girl next door clad in a sultry black dress as the broken hearted torch singer. Christmas Holiday, which also starred Gene Kelly, was her first financial loss for the studio. Deanna went back to making sunny musicals, but her scripts kept getting worse. Although she was the highest paid female actress of her time, she still did not have any say in her career because Universal made the choices for her.

Even more disappointing was the way her second marriage was souring. The much older, and already thrice divorced, Jackson expressed his dissatisfaction with his life as a married man about a year and a half after their wedding, and a short few months later he deserted his wife and their new baby. “The second divorce was traumatic, for there was a child involved.” Deanna admitted, “Being the child of a movie star can mean a life even more unreal than that of the parent, and at that point I knew that I didn’t want my daughter to grow up in Hollywood.” They separated in 1947, and Deanna was granted full custody of her daughter when the divorce was finalized.

After director Charles David asked her to marry him in 1950, Deanna consented under one condition: that she would be allowed to retire from show business, and never be pressured into performing again. He agreed, and even suggested that they move to his homeland of France after her retirement. Before leaving, Deanna had to reject many offers from people who hoped she’d postpone her departure. “Just once was I seriously tempted, by the prospect of My Fair Lady on Broadway. It was still in an embryonic state just a few songs completed when Alan Jay Lerner came to my home to play them for me. I loved them…but I had my ticket to Paris in my pocket and anyway, Julie Andrews was great and so was Audrey Hepburn in the film.”

The move to France to start her life over was a happy one. She always enjoyed the prospect of being a full time homemaker, even when she would visit her sister’s home and “putter around the house.” In an earlier interview she admitted that she liked doing housework for people that she loved. However, for awhile, Hollywood tried to entice her to make a comeback. One of her producers, Joe Pasternak, would telephone whenever he was in Paris. “Are you still happy?” he’d ask. “Yes” she would reply. “Damn, well I’ll try again next time,” he’d say before hanging up.

Deanna did not miss fame and fortune. “The idea of being recognized wherever I go holds no enjoyment. I would like to be able to shop in a store or go to the theatre without people saying ‘That’s Deanna Durbin.’ I would like to have people like me because I was just Edna, not Deanna.” Upon leaving Hollywood, she went back to her original name, and friends came to know her as “Edna David” instead of “Deanna.” After moving to the village of Neauphle-le-Chateauhe, Edna gave birth to a second child, Peter David. When her children grew up, she and her husband passed their final years together traveling around the world, going to concerts, operas and museums. They enjoyed a long and happy marriage for nearly fifty years until his death in 1999.

Although Edna disliked intruding reporters and other “blood sucking insects” as she dubbed them, there is a story about one recording executive who proved to be more of an amusement to her than a nuisance. This particular young man happened to be driving through the French countryside where he stopped at a local tavern. While sipping his drink, a sweet but strong soprano voice wafted in from outdoors. “Listen,” he asked the bartender, “who is that singing?” The man turned to him and explained, “That’s Madame David who lives in a farmhouse just a few minutes walk from here.” After hastily paying for his drink, the executive started towards the farmhouse.

An attractive woman in her 30s answered the door and asked if she could help him. He told her who he was, and insisted that she should audition because his record company was on the lookout for talented newcomers like her. Surprisingly, she politely declined, looking amused as if she knew some kind of inside joke. He assured her that if she would only come tryout he could make her rich and famous. “I’m sorry,” she smiled, “but I don’t want to leave my husband and family.” Noticing her subtle American accent, he continued with his pitch. “You’ll remember American singers like Deanna Durbin, Jane Powell, Kathryn Grayson, and Jeannette MacDonald. I can guarantee that my company can make you as big an international star as they used to be!” Madame David shook her head, and he finally realized that pressing his point further would be futile.

Walking back to the main road from her farmhouse, her voice haunted him like the memory of an angel. Once again, he asked the bartender about her. “It’s a shame she turned down my offer. She’s beautiful and quite talented; I really could make something of her,” he grumbled. “Yes, she has a lovely voice,” the barman grinned, “Actually, she used to sing professionally and make movies. They called her Deanna Durbin.”