The Sarong Queen, 1939
Updated: Oct 14
Tonight, Dorothy Lamour was wearing a western-style sequined dress, yet the “Sarong Queen” had made her name playing exotic roles. On the big screen she often appeared in perilous jungles or in the outback, sitting atop an elephant or taking on ferocious tigers, in crowded trains, in the cities of Latin America or caught up in the Spanish Civil War. Dorothy Lamour faced down dangers and seduced her handsome male protectors with her all-conquering charm. She was ravishing in an Asian sarong, in her belly dancer’s bedlah, in an African robe or a skimpy nightdress, as the GIs who collected pin-ups would soon know well. She was resplendent in black and white, but her glory faded little by little under the bright lights of colour.
As she waited for reporter John Wise, the Sarong Queen reflected on her lot in life. A strange path had led her to the big screen. As a child she had spent long nights alone at home, waiting for her parents (both restaurant workers) to return home. To keep boredom at bay, she created her own inner world. Her creativity and sensitivity were fuelled by these moments of solitude. Emotions washed over and inspired her, and those fanciful daydreams would find their echo in the movies. In front of the camera she experienced adventures and exotic locations dreamt up by the greatest minds in fiction – the writers and directors whose art was sending shivers down an audience’s spine and setting their hearts aflame, who had a gift for dispensing plot twists, cliff-hangers, punchlines and surprises. When she found herself prowling amid the cut-out sets and exotic plants in a sparkling costume, the queen herself was sometimes taken in by the artifice. It was a craft that required childlike innocence, she thought with a smile. Finally, the reporter knocked at the door of her luxury Hollywood apartment. He was a tall, dark-haired man wearing a felt hat, with a camera around his neck. He had the humility of a seasoned journalist, even as he was followed by an assistant lugging a projector and a briefcase.
“I enjoy exotic roles,” said Dorothy Lamour. “It allows the audience to dream… and me too. Cinema should transport the viewer, otherwise what is it for?”
“Which of your movies would you say inspires the most dreams?” asked Wise.
“The Hurricane, by John Ford! I loved shooting that movie, and John is a virtuoso.”
“Did you enjoy Tahiti?”
“I never set foot there! A crew went to Samoa to film the lagoons, but I shot everything in Hollywood, in a South Seas village rebuilt on a soundstage. And the hurricane was giant fans and tonnes of water! I could have stayed on that set forever if it weren’t for the heat of the lights – it made my make-up run.”
“I’m rather curious,” said John Wise. “How come Dorothy Lamour always plays these exotic roles? The press compares you to Joan Crawford and Claudette Colbert…”
“I have French, Spanish and Irish roots, you know… I suppose I was destined to be the woman who could be from anywhere. I have what they call a universal face. Now isn’t that a gift? I can look Vietnamese, Mexican, Balinese… as you wish.”
“So do you enjoy transforming yourself for each role?”
“Of course! I’m the symbol of a world without borders,” she concluded with a broad smile.
Alan Alfredo Geday