The Gorgeous Hussy (1936)
Directed by
Clarence Brown
MGM, 103
minutes, Not-rated
★★
For professional historians, finding factual errors in a Hollywood
history film is as easy as locating Chinese-made goods in a Walmart. You won’t
need a history degree to suspect that things are amiss in The
Glorious Hussy. Joan Crawford stars as Margaret “Peggy” O’Neal (1799-1879), a
fascinating woman whose life has parallels to the salaciousness of the film’s
title. Alas, most of that story remained eluded scriptwriter Stephen Avery.
In the movie, O’Neal is the vivacious daughter
of a Washington, D.C. innkeeper and a political junkie who can hold her own in
debates over federal versus local sovereignty with senators such as Daniel
Webster (MA) and John Randolph (VA). Secretly, she has loved the older Randolph
(Melvyn Douglas) since girlhood, even though she’s an ardent Unionist and he a
states’ rights advocate. When he rebuffs her, she elopes with a handsome
sailor, 39-year-old “Beau” Timberlake (Robert Taylor), who is twice her age. Upon
his death, she marries Senator John Eaton (Franchot Tone) just months after
Timberlake is dispatched to Davy Jones’ locker. Rumors fly.
Further complications arise when her “Uncle Andy” Jackson (Lionel
Barrymore) wins the presidency after a brutish campaign that besmirches his
wife Rachel (Beulah Bondi). She is crestfallen and dies before Jackson takes
the White House*. When he does, the
heartbroken Jackson asks Peggy to act as his White House hostess. This outrages
DC socialites such as Vice President John C. Calhoun’s wife, Floride, who
organizes other political wives to snub Mrs. Eaton. They regard her as an
adulteress and–they whisper–perhaps a murderess. An outraged Jackson, who
blamed malicious ridicule for Rachel’s death, defends Peggy’s honor to the
degree that he eventually fires his entire Cabinet except for Eaton, his
Secretary of War. Tongues continue to wag, however, and Peggy eventually
convinces Jackson to apoint John ambassador to Spain so they can escape the DC
snake pit.
There are enough evidential holes for several stagecoaches to pass
through, but had director Clarence Brown left matters there, we’d have a
workable rough draft of the improbable-but-true Petticoat Affair (1829-1831).
The social backstabbing over Peggy was so intense and constant that President
Jackson had trouble getting any work done. Instead of plumbing the depths of
this, The Gorgeous Hussy piles on contrivances until history gives way to
farce. There is, for instance, the invented character of “Rowdy” Dow, a goofy
mooncalf, Peggy’s friend and defender. The role is so ambiguous that Jimmy
Stewart seems to improvise from one scene to the next. We witness Randolph as a
pivotal figure in the Nullification Crisis** of 1832, though Calhoun was the
lynchpin and Randolph opposed his stance. Instead, Brown devises an absurd
scene in which a secessionist “anarchist” (really?) assassinates Randolph and
leaves Peggy bereft. (In life, Randolph died of pneumonia and there is no
evidence that he and Peggy were smitten with each other. He was 26 years older
than she.)
Let’s set a few more things straight. The Glorious Hussy was made just
two years after the Hays Code stablished strict moral guidelines that movies
had to adhere to acquire certification, without which they could not be
distributed. The real Peggy O’Neill was outspoken, flirtatious, and quite
possibly a for-real “hussy,” an outmoded and politically incorrect term that
means brazen and/or sexually promiscuous. She married Timberlake in 1816 and
bore two children–a third died at birth–but it’s up for grabs if they all sired
by Eaton, a drunkard and gambler. We know for certain that she met Eaton in
1818, and that the two were seen in each other’s company long before Timberlake
died in 1828. Because Peggy was already viewed as Eaton’s lover,
unsubstantiated rumors held that Timberlake committed suicide. Perhaps the
moralists had grounds to suspect her. For what it’s worth, Peggy was neither
Jackson’s niece nor his White House hostess; that job fell to Jackson’s actual
niece, Emily Donelson, who was among those snubbing the Eatons.
The Cabinet firing was real. It was engineered by his Secretary of
State, Martin Van Buren, who “resigned” so that Jackson could dismiss the rest
of his advisors. When the dust settled, only Eaton remained and Van Buren
became Jackson’s confidant. When Vice President Calhoun took up the
nullification cause, Jackson dumped him in time for his 1832 reelection; Van
Buren became the new VP and four years later, the 8th president of
the United States. (Legend holds that Jackson threatened to hang Calhoun!) As
for Peggy, the best that can be said of her is that she was an unconventional
woman in an age in which that was not a sanctioned option for most women. She
and John did go to Spain, though John was first appointed governor of Florida
Territory. John died in 1856; 10 years later, 59-year-old Peggy married an
Italian dance instructor who was in his mid-20s. (It did not end well. They
divorced in 1869, but he bilked her and Peggy died in poverty in 1879.)
Good stuff. Too bad it’s not in the movie. Barrymore and Bondi play the
Jacksons as if they just wandered off the set of a Ma and Pa Kettle episode.
Incredibly, Bondi gained Best Supporting Actress nomination. More surprising
still, cinematographer George Folsey was also nominated, even though his sets were
cheesier than all of Wisconsin. Neither won; Hollywood has some
standards!
Joan Crawford was also miscast. She was a superb actress, but not a
head-turning beauty. The Gorgeous Hussy is a rare case
in which the lead actress was less attractive than the woman she portrayed.
Okay, it’s a 1936 movie, but it’s still a cream pie in history’s face. So
why bother? First, The Gorgeous Hussy is so bad that
it’s good camp. Second, turkeys often inspire us to investigate more deeply.
Third, it’s a textbook case of how wrong Hollywood can get things. Watch it,
and from that day forth you will don a skeptic’s hat whenever you see the fatal
words, “story inspired by….”
Rob Weir
* Before the 20th Amendment (1933) new presidents took
office in March, not January. Rachel Jackson died on December 22, 1828, but her
husband grieved for her for the rest of his life.
** The Nullification Crisis was an argument over tariffs that also
centered on whether a state could void a federal act. It later became a favored
cause of pro-slavery apologists hiding behind a “states’ right” cloak.
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