Dolores Del Río, 1922-1932
Backed by a wealthy family, Dolores was hardly in a position to be exploited, and made the most of her opportunity. Both her husband and her resourceful but protectful mother accompanied her to the notoriously sinful capital of American cinema. Predictably, Carewe saw del Rio as an ideal actress for Latin parts, casting her first in the romantic tale Ramona, a classic Southern California tale about the tragic fate of a California mixed-race Indian girl and her Native American lover. Del Rio rose rapidly in Hollywood stardom. Carewe next cast her as the title character in Evangeline (1929). Another tragic tale of lovers torn apart by the British expulsion of the French Arcadians from Canada. Filmed with the Vitagraph sound technique (using synchronized 78 rpm records), Evangeline featured del Rio’s marvelous singing voice. By 1932, del Rio was considered one of the three most glamorous female stars, along with Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich.
It may seem curious that a mexicana would become a major star in a city ruled by an intensely anti-Mexican racial ideology. Indeed, much has been made of the “whitening” of Dolores del Rio, suggesting that her acceptance was achieved by somehow minimizing her mexicanidad, but such portrayals misunderstand race, class, and Mexico. For starters, elite Mexican families had the least indigenous ancestry: typically they are as light-skinned as any European. Second, del Rio was better educated than the vast majority of Americans, so the choice of how to adapt was fully hers to make. Wisely, she took voice lessons to refine her English pronunciation, which aided her extraordinary success in the sound era.[2]
Much more important to Del Rio was the challenge of adjusting to North American culture. Del Rio found refuge among the Hollywood aristocracy, becoming close friends with William Randolph Hearst and his plural wife Marion Davies. But her first husband couldn’t stand the Hollywood scene and eventually left her. After their stormy divorce in 1929, del Rio spoke critically of Latin men’s patriarchal attitudes. Within a year she had remarried to the (Roman Catholic) Cedric Gibbons, M-G-M’s chief art director. After falling in love with the young Orson Welles, however, her illusions were shattered by Welles’ stunning indictment of Hearst in Citizen Kane. A cosmopolitan who never needed to choose between mexicanidad and assimilation, del Rio returned to Mexico in the 1940s and spent many years as a star of Mexican cinema.
Mexican stars of American movies provided a major fascination for Mexican Angelenos, of every class and occupation. The pages of the leading Spanish-language daily La Opinion were crowded with news of Hollywood’s and Mexico’s stars. Del Rio was far from the only Mexican in Hollywood. Lupe Velez, who played opposite Douglas Fairbanks in The Gaucho (1927), grabbed as many headlines, especially with the news of her romance with Gary Cooper, whom she dumped for Johnny Weismuller. The official Anglo ideology of white supremacy and segregation could hardly hold water when Mexicans could become superstars and intermarry with the Anglos. Given the highly ambiguous racial location of Mexicans, what mattered the most for many immigrants were, in order of importance: marketable skills, fluency in English and their own inclinations. [Del Rio 1] Author's translation: “Al quedar impactado por su belleza, le ofreció el estrellato en Hollywood.” Krauze (2004): 76.
[Del Rio 2] A very good account is Hershfield (2000).
