Boston Globe
Ava Gardner, who died yesterday of pneumonia at the age of 67, is best remembered in black and white -- her soft skin playing against raven hair as she moved mysteriously across the screen. Whether playing the cynical owner of a Mexican hotel who tempts Richard Burton in "Night of the Iguana" (1964) or chain-smoking her last days away in the postnuclear cloud of "On the Beach" (1959), Ava Gardner always looked as if she was searching for something she could never have.
"Ava Gardner's screen identity is the furthest away from her true personality," said the late John Huston in a 1983 interview. "On screen she is aloof, distant and hard, but nothing could be further from the truth. Her beauty is in her vulnerability."
In the 31 years between "The Killers" (1946), her first major role, as a tough gal opposite Burt Lancaster, and her final appearance in the science fiction/horror film "The Sentinel" (1977), Gardner played her parts with a subtlety rare in American film. While most of her cohorts, particularly Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor, always seemed to play to the camera with one eye on their character and the other on their image, Gardner was exactly the opposite. It's as if the camera caught her off guard and she was almost embarrassed that all those people in the dark recesses of a big-screen movie theater were eavesdropping on her most private thoughts.
"What the camera captured was pure myth," said producer-director Stanley Kramer, who worked with Gardner on "On the Beach." "She was painfully shy, and she desperately wanted to live in the shadows."
In a sense, she did. They weren't the shadows that obscured and hid some people from the public eye, but the flickering shadows that danced across the screen of America's collective male libido.
Gardner, born Ava Lavinnia Gardener, was both a creation and a victim of studio promotion. When she was signed to her first contract in 1942, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer saw her as a sex symbol. In those days, actresses, unless they were major stars such as Bette Davis or Greta Garbo, had little influence when it came to defining their screen personae. Gardner was cooperative. She went along with the program.
"She never fought very much," said Huston. "She was very professional, showed up on time and did terrific work. She never asked many questions. Maybe that was the bad thing. She got along by getting along."
She even got married to Mickey Rooney to get along. MGM arranged the 1942 marriage that lasted only 20 months. A press agent went along on the honeymoon.
"There was no doubt that MGM was exploiting her physical beauty at the expense of developing her talent," said long-time friend and MGM colleague Roddy McDowall in a telephone interview. "That's why her best roles came later."
Although Gardner made one of her biggest splashes opposite Humphrey Bogart in "The Barefoot Contessa" (1954), it wasn't until she matured that she was appreciated for more than her stunning beauty.
"I know this is a cliche," said Kramer, "but her beauty almost got in the way. People couldn't see beyond it until she got into roles requiring maturity and experience rather than just sex."
Kramer claims that he wasn't surprised that Gardner spent her last years in Europe away from the constant celebrity of American life.
"She was very much a European in spirit," he said. "She often felt that she wasn't under prying eyes."
Any discussion of Ava Gardner's career always seemed to revolve around her husbands. She was married to, and divorced from, Rooney, Artie Shaw and Frank Sinatra. She indulged in numerous affairs -- most notably with several Spanish bullfighters. In Europe, her rocky personal relationships weren't given the priority that they received in the United States.
"I'd like to think that toward the end of her life," said Kramer, "she found some of the tranquility she so desired." BLOWEN;01/25 NKELLY;01/26,14:56AVA26 Caption: PHOTO 1. Caught in a stormy relationship with Charlton Heston in "Earthquake" in 1974. 2. Above, with Richard Burton in "Night of the Iguana," and, at right, as the MGM starlet. Obituary, Page 21.