Dorothy Comingore(1913-1971)
- Actress
- Soundtrack
Dorothy Comingore earned a place in motion picture history for her role
as the second Mrs. Kane (the Marion Davies
to Orson Welles's
William Randolph Hearst) in
Citizen Kane (1941). It was an
extraordinary performance, justifiably praised by critics and public
alike. She was apparently slated to be on the short list for an Academy
Award. However, there was to be no stardom in films for this talented
actress.
Dorothy was discovered by
Charles Chaplin while performing with
the Carmel Little Theater in Monterey County. He was enchanted by her
and his praise won her a Hollywood contract. That contract was
unaccountably dropped after just three months without even a screen
test. At Warner Brothers, she was utilized purely for publicity stills
and as a clothes model. She would have none of it. Having already
acquired a reputation as a firebrand, she walked out on the studio,
having been relegated to what amounted to nothing more than a crowd
scene. She was determined to be appreciated for her acting ability, not
to be wasted as an extra. Columbia signed her on. However, between 1938
and 1940, most of her roles (in which she was often billed as 'Linda
Winters') still turned out to be uncredited bits and walk-ons. There
were also westerns and 'Three Stooges' comedy shorts, but certainly
nothing of substance. Her turning point came courtesy of an
introduction to Orson Welles at a party. Welles came to think of her as
ideal casting for the part of brash, feather-brained would-be diva
Susan Alexander Kane. A successful screen test followed and then came
the role that brought Dorothy Comingore at once fame and ruin.
Soon after its release, the wrath of Citizen Hearst descended upon
everyone associated with the picture. In particular, he never forgave
Dorothy for playing a part so obviously (and effectively) modeled on
his mistress. Dorothy Comingore was already well known for her leftist
sympathies, and her father had been a high profile unionist.
The newspaper magnate had ample ammunition to orchestrate a nationwide
smear campaign, using prominent columnists
Hedda Hopper and
Walter Winchell to branding her a
'subversive', a member of the Communist Party. Though devoid of
substantiating evidence, the spurious allegation stuck. Dorothy had
associations and friends in Hollywood (not to mention her husband, the
screenwriter Richard Collins,
who had been an active party member of the Hollywood chapter in the
1930s), who had communist affiliations or were party members. She had
also made enemies by following in her father's footsteps, canvassing
for and supporting civil rights causes and union solidarity. Refusing
to cooperate with the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC)
made her an 'unfriendly witness'. Not only was she blacklisted in
Hollywood, but her phone was tapped, her mail opened and her home
ransacked. Collins, by now Dorothy's ex, did not have the same moral
fortitude. To escape blacklisting, he recanted his previous testimony
and fully cooperated with HUAC's inquisitors.
Dorothy's career effectively ended in 1951, her acting swansong in
films being a small part in an indifferent drama of teenage angst,
The Big Night (1951). Her personal
life, meanwhile, continued to spiral out of control. She became an
alcoholic. In October 1952, she was arrested by vice squad officers on
a solicitation charge, another likely frame-up as payback for her "red"
affiliations. Having lost custody of her children, she agreed to have
the charges against her dropped in exchange for being committed to the
Camarillo State Mental Hospital. There she spent two years (not 'a
little time', as she had promised in court) 'undergoing treatment'. Not
much is known of her final years, except, that she spent most of it in
seclusion, married to a postman in Connecticut in a home with two dogs
and ten cats. She died in December 1971 of pulmonary disease, likely
the result of long-term alcohol abuse, at the age of 58.
as the second Mrs. Kane (the Marion Davies
to Orson Welles's
William Randolph Hearst) in
Citizen Kane (1941). It was an
extraordinary performance, justifiably praised by critics and public
alike. She was apparently slated to be on the short list for an Academy
Award. However, there was to be no stardom in films for this talented
actress.
Dorothy was discovered by
Charles Chaplin while performing with
the Carmel Little Theater in Monterey County. He was enchanted by her
and his praise won her a Hollywood contract. That contract was
unaccountably dropped after just three months without even a screen
test. At Warner Brothers, she was utilized purely for publicity stills
and as a clothes model. She would have none of it. Having already
acquired a reputation as a firebrand, she walked out on the studio,
having been relegated to what amounted to nothing more than a crowd
scene. She was determined to be appreciated for her acting ability, not
to be wasted as an extra. Columbia signed her on. However, between 1938
and 1940, most of her roles (in which she was often billed as 'Linda
Winters') still turned out to be uncredited bits and walk-ons. There
were also westerns and 'Three Stooges' comedy shorts, but certainly
nothing of substance. Her turning point came courtesy of an
introduction to Orson Welles at a party. Welles came to think of her as
ideal casting for the part of brash, feather-brained would-be diva
Susan Alexander Kane. A successful screen test followed and then came
the role that brought Dorothy Comingore at once fame and ruin.
Soon after its release, the wrath of Citizen Hearst descended upon
everyone associated with the picture. In particular, he never forgave
Dorothy for playing a part so obviously (and effectively) modeled on
his mistress. Dorothy Comingore was already well known for her leftist
sympathies, and her father had been a high profile unionist.
The newspaper magnate had ample ammunition to orchestrate a nationwide
smear campaign, using prominent columnists
Hedda Hopper and
Walter Winchell to branding her a
'subversive', a member of the Communist Party. Though devoid of
substantiating evidence, the spurious allegation stuck. Dorothy had
associations and friends in Hollywood (not to mention her husband, the
screenwriter Richard Collins,
who had been an active party member of the Hollywood chapter in the
1930s), who had communist affiliations or were party members. She had
also made enemies by following in her father's footsteps, canvassing
for and supporting civil rights causes and union solidarity. Refusing
to cooperate with the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC)
made her an 'unfriendly witness'. Not only was she blacklisted in
Hollywood, but her phone was tapped, her mail opened and her home
ransacked. Collins, by now Dorothy's ex, did not have the same moral
fortitude. To escape blacklisting, he recanted his previous testimony
and fully cooperated with HUAC's inquisitors.
Dorothy's career effectively ended in 1951, her acting swansong in
films being a small part in an indifferent drama of teenage angst,
The Big Night (1951). Her personal
life, meanwhile, continued to spiral out of control. She became an
alcoholic. In October 1952, she was arrested by vice squad officers on
a solicitation charge, another likely frame-up as payback for her "red"
affiliations. Having lost custody of her children, she agreed to have
the charges against her dropped in exchange for being committed to the
Camarillo State Mental Hospital. There she spent two years (not 'a
little time', as she had promised in court) 'undergoing treatment'. Not
much is known of her final years, except, that she spent most of it in
seclusion, married to a postman in Connecticut in a home with two dogs
and ten cats. She died in December 1971 of pulmonary disease, likely
the result of long-term alcohol abuse, at the age of 58.