Dietrich - Fairbanks Love Nest, Gone and Dusted

When Marlene Dietrich went to London to make A Knight Without Armour for Alexander Korda, she took a suite at Claridge's. 

The set-up there wasn't very convenient for her then-current flame, Douglas Fairbanks Jr (whose flat was on Grosvenor Square): he had to make surreptitious early-morning exits through the servant's halls to get home and keep up appearances. 

It didn't take long for Marlene to move out of the hotel and into her own flat, conveniently directly below that of her "Knight". (Fan magazines gleefully reported about the Fairbanks-Dietrich-Sieber roundabout to their readers —  and, once Josef von Sternberg was discharged from the hospital where he'd been resting, he joined the troupe on their evenings about town, adding additional spice to the gossip).

Marlene Dietrich's New York Double Trouble (1939)

New York, 6 June 1939: Her heart belongs to Sammy! Arriving with an Afghan hound, one of the glamour boys of the dog world, is glamorous Marlene Dietrich, to whom we used to allude to as the "famous German movie star." Now Marlene, having been duly accepted as an American citizen, belongs to the US -- famous legs and all. In left rear behind Miss Dietrich is her husband, Rudolf Sieber, who will  sail with his wife for a visit to Europe on the Normandie this week.

13 June 1939: Absolutely quivering with indignation, Marlene Dietrich, svelte siren of the screen swept from the fashionable Monte Carlo Night Club in the wee hours of the morning today, June 13th -- a lady with a dress just like hers had turned the night sour for the film star.

It seems that Marlene was out on a farewell party prior to sailing for Paris. Flanked by Josef von Sternberg (director), Rudolf Sieber (husband) and Erich Maria Remarque (novelist), she made an almost regal entrance into the Monte Carlo in the shimmering white evening gown -- with hood, and sparkling wide belt. What should she spy there but Mrs Dudley Roberts Jr, New York socialite, gowned in an identical dress -- with hood and sparkling wide belt -- the coincidence was just too much for Marlene.

14 June 1939:There's a sad story behind Marlene Dietrich's gown which created such a furore in New York recently. It came to light in Hollywood today. That gown was created and styled right here in the film capital and was made especially to show off to better advantage the glamorous star's valuable collection of rubies.

But Miss Dietrich can neither wear the garment or rubies, for Uncle Sam seized both just the day before she sailed from New York for Europe as collateral pending settlement of a $ 284 000 income tax dispute. The story came from Howard Greer and Travis Banton, motion picture fashion designers, who created it for her before she departed from the film capital. There is only one copy of the gown and Marlene Dietrich owns it, said Greer today, which would tend to substantiate Miss Dietrich's statement  that she walked out of a New York cafe for a reason other than the fact that a society woman was supposed to be wearing a dress identically the same as her own. 

Above: Marlene Dietrich is talking with Federal men on the Normandie just before sailing. She was permitted to sail for Europe after surrendering $ 100 000 in jewels to guarantee $ 284 000 in her 1936-7 income taxes. The Normandie was delayed 44 minutes while  Federal men ordered her luggage to be taken off for inspection and then taken on the ship again.

Government agents appeared suddenly and, brushing aside autograph seekers had all her vacation finery -- except the modish clothes she wore -- removed to the pier. There were 34 pieces of luggage and they were shuttled from her suite to the pier so often they had the porters dizzy.

The actress' lawyer appeared in the crowd during the excitement and protested. John T Cahill, US attorney, showed up with four assistants and 20 federal agents went up the gangplank and then down   again.

Least perturbed in the little drama was Miss Dietrich herself. The German-born actress, who recently became an American citizen, said "It's all a riddle to me." She said the first she heard of it was this morning at her suite in the Sherry Netherland, where she had been staying since Monday, when she arrived from the West Coast.

She was dressed in a gray travel suit and a red fox fur cape. "This is the first time I am sailing as an American citizen," she said. "So far as I know I have paid my income tax in full each year, and it has been about the same amount, $ 105 000. As an alien, I had to show that my income tax was paid in order to get a sailing permit."

J B McNamara, deputy collector of internal revenue, explained that the government's claim was based on Miss Dietrich's earnings in England ... and that the government had no accounting of her British earnings. "We do not think Miss Dietrich is to blame," he added, "but her agent certainly has been lax."

(Compiled from photos and newspapers of the period.)

"The Blue Angel" goes Blu



Kino Lorber have announced that they will be releasing The Blue Angel on blu-ray on 4 December. No word on whether this edition includes both the English and German versions (or extras, if any -- a running time of 124 minutes on a single disc is given by Amazon; this disc may well be Region A locked). It is available for preorder at amazon.com

Universum Film GmbH released the film on blu-ray in Europe (Region B, stated running time 107 minutes on German Amazon) on 31 August. Their version, according to a review on amazon.de, includes both the English and  German versions, as well as the extras including Dietrich's screen test, interview and concert clips and a German commentary by Werner Sudendorf. According to Universum theirs is a two-disc edition.

Is Dietrich Through? (2/2)

In their January 1933 edition the fan magazine, Photoplay, published an exclusive interview with Marlene by Ruth Biery. Dietrich's "startling statements" promised to answer the questions that "kept the public and studios agog". (We presented Part One of the interview on Monday.)

PART TWO: AN UNDERSTANDING HUSBAND

Her American life has not been happy. Her first year -- Mrs Von Sternberg's suit for alienation of affections. The suit was understandable from an wholly American viewpoint -- it was completely a puzzle from Marlene's European one. She had a husband. He understood. Why should not Mr Von Sternberg's wife do the same? she reasoned. Incidentally, I have known both Marlene and Von Sternberg since she first came and I have always said both in print and in person that Marlene's devotion has always been as she now explains it.


A mental and, to her, common sense one. Then -- the fight on "Blonde Venus". Von Sternberg did not want to direct it. The studio wished to make the story saccharine. He bolted. Richard Wallace was assigned as director. She bolted. You now know why. Von Sternberg really went back and directed that picture for the sake of Marlene. He hated it then -- he hates it now. And no man can do a truly great picture with a story which he hates.

And then -- the kidnapping threats for her baby. Any description of her suffering would sound like an exaggeration. That Marlene Dietrich has a mother complex, no American would question. To her, the extend of her love is is only as natural as her refusal to be directed by any man other than the one who bridged the screen chasm for her. The letters she received were made up of words clipped from newspapers to avoid trace of handwriting. People said it was a joke.

They continued for six weeks. Each new letter showed a new knowledge of her movements. Why had she hired detectives? Why had she taken her child to such and such a place the day before? Marlene Dietrich was close to a mad woman. Neither she nor her child even now stir in the open today without armed guards.

The bars on the windows of her home are inches thick.

Is Dietrich Through? (1/2)

In their January 1933 edition the fan magazine, Photoplay, published an exclusive interview with Marlene by Ruth Biery. Dietrich's "startling statements" promised to answer the questions that "kept the public and studios agog".

PART ONE: "PLEASE MAKE MR VON STERNBERG DO IT"

HOLLYWOOD is eagerly discussing Marlene Dietrich and her problems.


Her contract with Paramount is finished in February. Will she re-sign? Will she make pictures with other directors than Von Sternberg? Will she remain in this country or return to Europe as has been rumoured? That Maurice Chevalier gossip? What was behind the seeming unfriendliness between herself and Von Sternberg?

What was ll that fuss about the kidnapping of her daughter? Was this just another publicity racket?

Literally hundreds of curious, anxious questions.

Marlene has not granted an interview for seven months.

She has remained isolated behind her forbidden guard of nine detectives. Yes, I said NINE. Neither Marlene nor her daughter has moved without the protection of armed guards for many, many weeks. She had added what threatened to be an indefinite silence to her well-managed defense.

But now she has broken that silence. "It is right that the American people who have been kind enough to see my pictures should know and understand. It is right that I, myself, should tell them."

Queer Film Blogathon 2012: Marginalia on Note 25

This entry is part of the 2012 Queer Film Blogathon, co-hosted by Garbo Laughs and Pussy Goes Grrr. While you're here, please read my contribution to the 2011 Queer Film Blogathon, Throwing Shade: Homophobia in Riva's Dietrich Bio? Pt. 1. You can also browse our entries tagged "LGBT."

Now that summer's upon us, I'd like to make a proposal that none of you should refuse. Instead of trekking across Yosemite, spelunking in Carlsbad Caverns, or zip-lining through the Redwoods, consider roughing it in my camp. There's just one caveat. I've assigned some required reading. Don't worry. You've probably already read this text in an introductory film course, an introductory queer studies course, or an introductory queer film studies course. If none of those apply to you, maybe you've read it elsewhere--Susan Sontag's seminal work, "Notes on 'Camp.'" In case I've offended any of you radical separatist feminists, you ought to leave now because this blog is like a can of Vienna sausages--not that I'm pushing my patriarchal power on you or anything--no, siree! For you less radical or non-separatist feminists, please forgive my male privilege and substitute "ovular" for "seminal." As for you trans-folk, I can never do right by you, so rip me a new one in the comments section.

1940 U.S. Census--Where's Dietrich?

Recently, the 1940 U.S. Census became available for free online, and I decided to build my research skills by seeking information regarding Dietrich and her household. Currently, the census is available as JPG image files and organized by enumeration district, which was the area covered by a person called an enumerator who went door-to-door to collect and record census data. Thus, scouring data can be tedious, but the 1940 U.S. Census Community Project will hopefully make the task more user-friendly. With indexing software from Family Search, project participants can transcribe data, which will aid others who prefer performing term searches to skimming images or who may not be able to read the handwritten content.

After using the powerful tools developed by Steve Morse, I determined that Dietrich--whom I'm certain lived in the Beverly Hills Hotel during 1940--would be listed on the census pages of enumeration district (ED) 19-36. Browsing these pages, I learned that movie actors did participate in the census, spotting the names of William Powell (1113 Tower Rd.), Fred Astaire (1121 Summit Dr.), and Blonde Venus and Angel co-star Herbert Marshall (1707 Tropical Ave.). Unfortunately, I couldn't find anyone associated with the Beverly Hills Hotel, which is located at 9641 Sunset Blvd. In fact, the addresses listed for Sunset Blvd. didn't even correspond to the enumeration district as I understood it. For example, Richard Barthelmess, who made one of his last acting appearances in The Spoilers, is listed with a misspelled surname at 501 Sunset Blvd. Nowadays, there's no such address anywhere near Beverly Hills. In fact, I supposed that address on Sunset Blvd. would have been somewhere in downtown Los Angeles, on what's now Cesar E. Chavez Ave. Then, I realized that addresses on Sunset Blvd. must have been different in the past, which led me to check the other Beverly Hills enumeration districts. Do any of you L.A. historians out there have some knowledge about this?

Indeed, Beverly Hills Hotel guest names appeared on the pages of another enumeration district, 19-43, at 1210 Sunset Blvd, but I failed to spot either the last name Dietrich or Sieber. Maybe Dietrich didn't live in the Beverly Hills Hotel during the spring of 1940, maybe she didn't participate, or maybe the enumerator didn't collect her data. Who knows? At this time, we'll have to settle for other Dietrich data--such as her U.S. citizenship application, her FBI file, and her social security number--unless one of you finds her in the 1940 census.

Somewhat related to this topic, I searched for Josef von Sternberg's Neutra-designed home in the San Fernando Valley at 10000 Tampa Ave. and found his name somewhat excised from the page, even though his Japanese staff's data remained. What's the meaning of that?

Josef von Sternberg in the 1940 U.S. Census

You may need to click on this close-up to better read the census page.

Edited to add a map of the locations I mentioned in this blog entry. If you're interested, I can start a collaborative map so that all of us can mark spots related to Dietrich, e.g., her homes, movie sets, concert venues, etc. Let me know!

Derek Prouse Interviews Marlene Dietrich: "I Hated Being A Film Star" (1964)

Derek Prouse interviewed Marlene Dietrich in December 1964.

What clues does the flat in the elegant Avenue Montaigne afford to the character of its celebrated occupant?

An uncountable mould of suit cases in the hall; a salon impersonally furnished, the décor of a constant traveller, a purposeful book case whose books are clearly there to be read: Goethe, Scott Fitzgerald, the collected scripts of Ingmar Bergman; a large photograph of General de Gaulle inscribed: “Pour Madame Dietrich – en temoinage d’admiration pou son magnifique talent.”

Dietrich enters: one feels instantly that here is a shy and private woman; the flowers one has brought to her she holds almost defensively before her face; this is a subtle way of saying “thank you” without words. She places them attentively in a large vase on a desk, and it capriciously keels over. Suddenly we are under the desk in a spreading pool of water and spiteful rose stalks. The ice is broken.

Out of the busy coming and going of the mopping-up operation a few random phrases are speared: “I’m not a myth” . . . “I never see the Press … why should I?” . . . “America? A country can stay young for too long. Everything that is new is still automatically the best there” . . . “The thirties? Who wants to hear about old films nowadays?”

“I do,” one asserts. Obviously, sooner or later we must speak of The Blue Angel and the man whose name was inseparably linked with hers for so long, Josef von Sternberg.

“Well, Mr von Sternberg came to the theatre to see some actors he wanted for The Blue Angel and I happened to be in the play. That was towards the end of ’29. I was at the Max Reinhardt theatre school in Berlin. (There’s not much done in the theatre today, and called new, that Reinhardt didn’t do first.)

“Reinhardt had four theatres in Berlin and in the evenings we students would have to go around saying ‘The horses are saddled’ in the first act of this play or ‘Here’s a letter for you, Madam’ in the third act of another – as part of our training.

“After the success of The Blue Angel I just went with Mr von Sternberg to America for one film. One film – and then if I didn’t like the place I would be allowed to leave. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone; I wanted no seven-year contract or anything like that. I had to look at the country first; I didn’t know if it was good enough for my child. Then I saw it was good and brought her over and my husband came whenever he could; he was working here in Paris for Paramount. But then Hitler came in and we got stuck in America. The film I liked best? The one that had the least success: The Devil is a Woman.

“And after you left von Sternberg?”

“I didn’t leave Sternberg (the faintly weary voice suddenly rises in passionate assertation; the only time the deferential “Mr” is forgotten). “He left me! That’s very important. In my life he was the man I wanted to please the most. He decided not to work with my any more and I was very unhappy about that, before that, Mr von Sternberg had picked Rouben Mamoulian to direct Song of Songs and I love Mamoulian because of his kindness to me at that time. It was the first time I’d worked without Mr von Sternberg and I behaved atrociously. I thought I’d never do anything again since he left me.

“Perhaps I’m wrong to say I was unhappy – you can’t be made really unhappy by something you’re not interested in. My heart was never in that work. I had no desire to be a film actress, to always play somebody else, to be always beautiful with somebody constantly straightening out your every eye-lash. It was always a big bother to me. And I hated the stupid publicity that was created around one.”

“Like that much publicised feud with Mae West, for instance?”

“Not at all true. She was very kind to me. And she’s such a witty woman.”

The voice was becoming low, almost distant. “No. It’s so difficult playing somebody else. I like playing myself.”

“Is that way you prefer working in cabaret?”

“Cabaret!” (Suddenly, it might by Lady Bracknell confronted with the handbag.) “I never play in cabaret! I play in theatres; that’s quite different. Oh yes, I did play the Café de Paris in London and Las Vegas but that was five years ago, now I sing the songs I like to sing. I have no script and no director; I don’t have to waste my energy explaining why I want something like this and not like that; I don’t have to fight with anybody or say ‘Please let me do this.’ I explain to nobody why I come in from the right, the left or the centre. I stand or fall by my own decisions. No front-office interference; just my conductor, Burt Bacharach, and me. He is my only critic; if he says ‘Don’t do a song,’ I don’t do it.”

Dietrich’s long career has not been without its perilous impasses; at the end of her association with von Sternberg her stock was dangerously low in Hollywood. With Desire, that witty film directed by Frank Borzage in which she played an international jewel thief, she swept back into favour.

But it was at Universal that she made one of the greatest and most unpredictable successes: In Destry Rides Again, gone were all the glamorous trappings; the atmosphere of aloof, impregnable mystery that had always been her stock-in-trade was exploded. Instead, a brawling saloon-entertainer in the West, dodging guns and belting out “See what the boys in the backroom will have.” Was this transformation Dietrich’s own idea?

“No it was Joe Pasternak’s. He made the decision.”

“And you were in favour of it?”

“I needed the money.” Flat factual and forthright, this statement imposes a pause.

“But you must have enjoyed it.”

“No! (a protesting cry.) I – never – enjoyed – working – in – a – film. You have to get up at the crack of dawn, and then you have to get prettied up all day long and every hair has to match the next day and 60 000 people fool around with you. It is just awful. Anyone who enjoys that … (the voice trails away in speechless stupefaction).

“But I was grateful for one thing: the big legend that the Paramount publicity machine built up did, paradoxically, afford me privacy. I never like to talk about myself: I think that no one has a right to know about one’s private life and private affairs. Mr von Sternberg said: you have to give the magazines something to print so the glamorous legend was fine, even if there wasn’t a word of truth in it.” (The “legend” that was exhaustively “plugged” during the thirties implied that Dietrich was a Trilby manipulated by von Sternberg, her dark and mysterious Svengali.”
“But now I do the work I enjoy. I’ve toured South America. I’ve played all the Scandinavian countries, Russia, Israel, Holland and many others.

“But you always come back to Paris?”

“Everybody loves Paris – even Hitler didn’t dare to push the button. And Paris has always recognised artists; it understood von Sternberg and it understands Orson Welles. When I talk with him I feel like a plant that has been watered.

“And in Paris there is freedom: they let you live and nobody bothers you. You can do what you want, live with whom you want, and that’s wonderful – no? They are so full of their own lives that they have no time to bother about anybody else’s. I can go to the meat man and buy my meant and nobody pesters me. They say ‘Bonjour Madame Marlene’ and pass me by.”

Dietrich moves out on to the balcony. The Avenue looks bleak and anonymous but to her seems beautiful. “They’ve cut down my trees,” she murmurs wistfully. Chekov has taken over. But the telephone soon snaps her back to her intense professional world.

“I’ve just made a new record. I produced it myself. Fifteen songs of Berlin; songs of the town in the old days. Berlin always had something special; it was always in island. An island with its special kind of tragic wit without self-pity and without reverence.”

I recall Johnny, which Dietrich first recorded in 1929 and which is in her recent long-player. She sings in German:

Johnny, when you have a birthday
Come and be my guest
For the night.

The singer, the song and the invitation seem to have gained with the years. The spell is potent and not easily broken.

I left, remembering Jean Cocteau, who told me just before his death that he had arranged to hire a copy of Shanghai Express (one of Dietrich’s early Hollywood successes). “I wanted so much to see ‘chere Marlene’ once more,” he said.

One sees what he meant: a legend can often boomerang, but Dietrich, by hard work and artistry, has kept hers meaningful and alive.

Restoration of "The Devil Is A Woman" At TCM Film Fest

The Museum of Modern Art's new restoration of the 1935 Dietrich-von Sternberg collaboration, The Devil Is A Woman, will be premiere at the 2011 TCM Classic Film Festival.

From their website:

Industry censor Joe Breen wanted her killed for her sins. The Spanish government wanted her taken out of circulation altogether. But for film lovers, Marlene Dietrich's Concha Perez has become one of the great icons of forbidden love. For his last film with protégée Dietrich, Josef von Sternberg created a fantasy version of Spain during Carnival time as the setting for a delirious study of male masochism. The star was at her most sensual as the factory girl who rises in the world through the love of a police captain but can't stay true to him or any man. Fans now adore the film for its dazzling style and exotic perversity, but audiences at the time didn't quite get it. When Spain threatened to ban all Paramount pictures over the film's depiction of their police guard, the studio pulled it from worldwide distribution and destroyed the master. They also released von Sternberg from his contract prematurely ending a level of artistic freedom that the director would never enjoy again. THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN remained largely unseen until 1959, when the studio screened it at the Venice Film Festival and included it in a package of classic pictures sold to television. Dietrich, who has called the film her favorite, saved her own print in a bank vault. That print was the source of an '80s art-house re-issue and subsequent DVD versions. A new restoration from the Museum of Modern Art makes its world premiere at this festival screening.

The Devil Is A Woman will be screened at 22:15 this coming thursday (28 April) at the Chinese Multiplex, adjacent to Grauman's Chinese Theatre in Hollywood.

Further information at the TCM Classic Film Festival website.

One scene that won't be projected at the festival is Marlene's sensational performance of "If It Isn't Pain (Then It Isn't Love)", a number censored from the film in 1935. Only Marlene's prerecording survives:

Falling In Love Again

I have never articulated my thoughts on Dietrich, but a blog (which has subsequently disappointed me and thus won't be named) inspired me to make an honest attempt. You will see my comment if you click the link, and I will also post it here after the cut.

Louella Parsons interviews Marlene Dietrich

Hollywood gossip columnist interviewed Marlene on an episode of her CBS radio show, Sunkist Musical Cocktails on 20 May 1931. The transcript of the interview (which was very likely scripted), below, provides a fascinating glimpse into both Marlene's life at that time and the way in which publicity was utilised to shape and present her relatively new star persona.



MY RADIO CHAT WITH MARLENE DIETRICH

by Louella O. Parsons

Parsons: Good evening. I know from the many letters I have received since we announced that Marlene Dietrich was to be our guest star that the listeners-in are as thrilled as I am at having her here. I am happy to introduce -- say, by the way -- won’t you please tell me how you pronounce your name?
Dietrich: Mar-leen-a Deet-rich-and I am glad that you asked me that question because it is invariably pronounced Mar-leen Deet-rick.
Parsons: Well, one day, Marlene Dietrich -- how do you like my German accent? -- I hope to be able to speak German as well as you speak English. Where did yo learn your English?
Dietrich: Your German sounds all right. I was taught to speak English and French in the German schools as most German children are. That is a part of our education
Parsons: And very sensible. I think our American children should have better training in languages. By the way, were you ever outside of Germany and Austria before?
Dietrich: No - I was never in any other countries but Germany and Austria until I came to the
United States. It was in Vienna, of course, that I made my stage debut.
Parsons: Well, that’s very interesting news to me just as I am sure it must be to all those
listening today. I am surprised to find that you speak French and English without a German accent since your environment was so essentially German.
Dietrich: I try very hard to speak English as well as possible and if I succeed at times, it is because of my musical education, which undoubtedly developed my ear.
Parsons: I have heard you sing on the screen and, of course, I’ve listened to your phonograph records, but tell me -- do you play any musical instruments ?
Dietrich: Yes - I play the violin, piano and sometimes -- when I am provoked to do so -- the musical saw.
Parsons: I know everyone will want to know why you happened to become an actress.
Dietrich: I sprained my wrist because I practiced on the violin six hours a day and while waiting for my hand to become better I entered Max Reinhard’s School of Acting, and then I became an actress in his theatres.
Parsons: I wonder if you know how anxious we were to see you when we heard that Josef von Sternberg was bringing you to America? At that time most foreign actresses were on the wane. Among all the stars whose pictures you’ve seen since you've come to America, which is
your favorite?
Dietrich: Greta Garbo.
Parsons: It must be a case of mutual admiration because Miss Garbo has told her friends that your records are her favorites. You two girls dress in a similar manner. The mannish clothes
that you wear are the same type I’ve often seen Miss Garbo wearing at luncheon.
Dietrich: In Europe every well-dressed woman wears mannish clothes for morning attire. You must have noticed that other European women who come to Hollywood wear tailored clothes. Lilly Damita, for instance.

Parsons: Returning to the subject of your success in America at the time when other European players were on the wane -- your success must be a source of great gratification to you?
Dietrich: Yes -- I am quite happy about it. I love America -- but I love Germany, too; and you can understand that it makes me very sad sometimes to be deprived of the pleasure of making a film in the German language.
Parsons: I don’t blame you. The charm of the screen has always been its international appeal. And it’s a pity that the people who have made such successes in America cannot have their pictures shown abroad as they did in the silent days.
Dietrich: Sometimes it is possible - I just came from Europe a few weeks ago where Morocco is playing in all countries in the English language. There is so little dialogue and so much visual movement that this is one picture easy for foreigners to understand.
Parsons: There's one question I want to ask you. I have heard it said many times that you don’t like Hollywood and that you are very homesick.
Dietrich: It is true that I was very homesick the first time I came here. I had no friends and I was a complete stranger but I like Hollywood much better this time. I have grown accustomed to the sun and my little daughter, Maria, whom I brought with me this time, loves Hollywood,
hot sun and all.

Parsons: You must have seen Charlie Chaplin recently when he made his tour through Germany and England. I am curious to know how the German people received him. Did they like him?
Dietrich: Germany is mad about Mr. Chaplin and all other American stars. Everyone who visits
Germany gets a royal welcome.
Parsons: I don't know whether you know it or not, but I talked to Mr. von Sternberg because I
wanted to get something about your personality before we talked on the radio. He told me that, for one thing, he is lucky if you say three words in a whole conversation.
Dietrich: I do not believe in talking unless you have something to say.
Parsons: Among other things, Mr. von Sternberg told me that it was you who found the book Morocco for him. He also said you are intensely interested in the camera and the technical side of motion pictures.
Dietrich: I don’t think that’s so strange -- do you? -- that I should be interested in the inside
workings of picture making. I believe that everyone should understand the mechanics of his trade.
Parsons: I’m going to ask you a question that’s a little prosaic when applied to a glamorous being like yourself. If you don’t want to answer out loud just whisper in my ear. Is it true you
like to cook ?
Dietrich: I don’t mind telling out loud that I really and truly do like to cook. I have many German friends in Hollywood who are fond of goulash and since it's difficult to get anyone to cook it in the proper way, I cook it myself for my guests.
Parsons: Won’t you tell us something about your little daughter? Is she learning to speak English?

Dietrich: She is learning - but slowly. Her English now consists of "bye-bye," "Thank you very much," "swimming pool," and "Thank you, I am fine." She swims like a fish. She is in the pool all day long. Just the other day she said, "I love Hollywood and I will never leave it unless I can take my swimming pool along..
Parsons: How old is your little daughter and does she look like you? I realize, Miss Dietrich, these are very personal questions, but I know the people listening in who admire you are interested in her.
Dietrich: I am very glad to tell all about her. She is very blonde and I think she resembles my husband, but since everyone says he and I look alike, I suppose the baby resembles both of us.
Parsons: Do you find it easy to combine the duties of motherhood with those of being a successful actress?
Dietrich: Yes, I do, because my daughter is the greatest incentive I could possibly have. I have never been so happy in my life as since I’ve had her.
Parsons: Do you think little Maria will be an actress or a musician?
Dietrich: I hope that she will have enough talent to become an actress because I think it is the most beautiful and interesting career a woman can have. And now, Miss Parsons, I would like to say goodnight. You see, I promised to tell my little daughter a story before she goes to bed and it’s getting late.
Parsons: Goodnight, Miss Dietrich. Thank you very much for coming.

[This interview was originally republished by the MDCB in their newsletter.]