David Niven (32 page)

—

D
avid had to leave Hjördis to hunt for houses on her own for a time while he went to Athens to start work on
The Guns of Navarone
, a huge World War II epic written and produced by Carl Foreman and directed by J. Lee Thompson. David was part of a starry cast – Gregory Peck, Anthony Quinn, Stanley Baker, Anthony Quayle and singer James Darren – playing a group of saboteurs with a mission to destroy the powerful guns on the island of Navarone.

This has always been the kind of film I've loved since I was a kid, and over the years working as a film publicist, journalist, behind the scenes, in the scenes, I've always sought out the actors and directors who made those kinds of movies. From
The Guns of Navarone
I've been lucky to interview Stanley Baker in Wales when he was filming
How Green Was My Valley
in 1975, Gregory Peck when he was making
The Omen
in London in 1978, Anthony Quinn when he was making
The Greek Tycoon
at Elstree Studios in 1977, Anthony Quayle on the set of
Murder by Decree
in 1978 and J. Lee Thompson when he was in London promoting a mediocre Charles Bronson flick called
Stives
in 1976, as well as talking informally to most of them on film sets, on location, in offices, in their homes or hotel suites and at premieres. And David Niven, of course.

J. Lee Thompson remembered the tension among the cast when they first all met up in Athens, before they set off for the bulk of the location filming on the island of Rhodes:

There was a certain amount of rivalry on the set between Gregory Peck, David Niven and Anthony Quinn – friendly rivalry. The first night we
all met on the location in Athens, David Niven was very cheery but he felt anxious that he was just going to be left standing around a lot with nothing to do while the other stars got on with the action. It was true that his character was not as well developed as some of the others and he felt, rightly, that all the characters had been written as supermen without much depth to them. He thought he would be forgotten among all those stars like Peck and Quinn. But he had only just won an Oscar and was insecure that Gregory Peck and Anthony Quinn would get all the best acting moments. And there was Peck convinced Tony Quinn would try to out-act him, and Quinn was aware that Niven had won an Oscar, and so they were all eyeing each other warily. Nothing unpleasant, but I felt the tension. Then Tony Quinn brought out little portable chess sets and they all got hooked on playing chess and took out all the rivalry on the chessboards instead of before the cameras.

Anthony Quinn remembered the chess games: ‘I thought that playing chess would reveal everyone's character. There was David Niven, the Errol Flynn of the chessboard, charging around with his queen, crying, “Idiotic move, what, eh? Well, never mind, on we go. Charge!” Then there was Peck – calm – like Lincoln – contemplating every move – deep in thought – you couldn't rush him. Stanley Baker was a competitive spirit who displayed terrible fury when defeated but great joy when victorious. Tony Quayle moved his pieces like a general, planning his strategy, studying the board and knowing what his moves would be way ahead. Carl Foreman played too. When he lost, you could see centuries of persecution in his face. And there was me. When I lost I just threw the board at them!'

Anthony Quayle told me, ‘Tony Quinn was not always easy to get on with. Because Gregory Peck was a big Hollywood star you felt he was in charge and you could trust him. But for me the delight of the film was working with David Niven,' he said. ‘He never failed to say “Hello, old bean, how are you?”'

Stanley Baker remembered Niven's story-telling as something everyone else competed with, like the chess games. ‘We were
all
good story-tellers, and some of us had better stories to tell. That's what actors do. In the end we were all competing to tell the best stories, but there's something about David that makes you feel as though you
ought
to pay attention. He'd tell us about a time he'd supposedly fought of Mexican bandits, and Tony Quinn would huff and say, “I was
born
under the sound of gunfire in Mexico,” and he talk about Pancho Villa.

‘Niv also
listened
. He wanted to know what it was like to be brought up in the Welsh valleys. He was
interested
. But no matter what you said, he
always managed to say, “That reminds me of a time I…” and he'd launch into another anecdote.'

Niven told me, ‘I had no problem with any of the cast. They were all professional, all very likeable. Tony Quinn was the only one who could throw a tantrum. He got very angry one time and I said, “What on earth's the problem?” and he said, “I have to shoot all these Germans with one gun and I would run out of bullets if this were for real.”

‘I said, “But, Tony, this is only pretend. There's nothing real about this film. It's a big cartoon.” He said, “Don't you need to find what your motivation is?” I said, “Yes, indeed, my motivation is the big fat fee they're paying me.” So he laughed and shouted to the director, “Okay, let's shoot the scene and I'll kill ‘em all with my one gun.”'

Out of the production grew a friendship between Gregory Peck and Niven that lasted for the rest of David's life. Peck told me, ‘David was always so incredibly cheerful that when you asked him why he was, he'd just say, “Well, old bean, life is really so bloody awful that I feel it's my absolute duty to be chirpy and try and make everybody else happy too.”'

While David was on Rhodes, Hjördis found a chalet, complete with tennis court and spectacular views, in the Alpine valley village Château d'Oex near Gstaad. When David saw it, he agreed it was perfect for them and they bought it. When location work on
Guns of Navarone
was finished, and while waiting to shoot interiors at Shepperton Studios in England, David and Hjördis moved into their new home.

He quickly discovered a nearby hotel he liked, the Olden, where he would lunch and dine often. Many other famous people dined there including Princess Grace and Prince Rainier. Later, Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor would become regulars, as would Peter Sellers.

David might have hoped the new home in a new land would solve his and Hjördis's problems, but her problems were not easily fixable. ‘I got worse, and drank more,' she said. ‘I'd drink all morning and was drunk by lunch time. We used to have lunch at the Olden Hotel almost every day, but I was always drunk by lunch time, and whenever we saw our friends coming in, I gave them loud greetings which embarrassed David.'

It might seem that David would have done better to have left Hjördis at home and gone to the Olden alone, but he had good reason to get her out of the house. She was suffering from agoraphobia and it was becoming increasingly hard for her just to step outside. There were those who thought she was just being difficult and obstinate but agoraphobia is a terrifying disease. Indoors she was also suffering severe anxiety and panic attacks, and she numbed it all with alcohol.

Not all of David's and Hjördis's friends turned against her. A regular
visitor to Château d'Oex was Noël Coward who Hjördis dearly loved. She told me,

He was a dear, dear man. I liked him because he didn't judge me, and he made me feel welcome in his company and made me laugh. I think I felt more comfortable with him than with any of David's other friends. I said to him, ‘You actually like me, and that makes me very happy.'

He said, ‘Of course I like you, Hjördis. You see, men –
straight
men – find you threatening because they think you are going to get in their pants, and women find you threatening because they think you're going to seduce their men. But your flirty eyes have no effect on me, and Cole isn't afraid I'm going to jump into bed with you.' [Cole Lesley was Coward's partner.]

I asked him how I can stop having what he called ‘flirty eyes', and he said, ‘Stop taking all those pills, don't wear so much make-up and for God's sake
laugh
at David's stories.'

I took his advice, but it was hard to go without sedatives because I was having panic attacks, so I started taking them again. And I tried laughing at David's jokes, but when I was back on the pills, they were made worse by the booze, and I was back to the way I was.

There were times I just wanted to die. I told David I wanted to die, and he begged, ‘Please don't die.' He said, ‘Primmie died. I couldn't bear it if you died too.' I think that was the sweetest thing he ever said to me.

She was right about the way many felt about her. Richard Burton once told me, ‘Hjördis was the worst kind of wife, I would imagine. She and David would have lunch at the Olden, and she would be drunk every time, but David never complained. And she seemed to try it on with all the men. Even me, even when I was with Elizabeth [Taylor]. I told David he should leave her at home but he said it was good for her to get out.'

I suspect Burton was experiencing those ‘flirty eyes' Coward told Hjördis the sedatives gave her.

In November 1960 David returned to England to film interiors of
The Guns of Navarone
at Shepperton. Hjördis went with him to London and began to suspect him of having an affair. She told me, ‘David had a “new friend” called Sally [Croker Poole, then married to Lord James Crichton-Stuart]. He took me to her house [in Cromwell Gardens] and she was young and very pretty and that made me think that David would rather have her than me. I wouldn't blame him now, but I did blame him at the time. She laughed at his stories. I never laughed at them. I had heard them so many times before, and always they were different versions. I was having
medication at the time and I felt separate from everything. People thought I was strange. Well, I
was
strange, but it was due to the medication, the alcohol, the depression. I was afraid of going anywhere. So I took sedatives to calm me down.'

David admitted to me in 1982 that he did have an affair when in London at that time, but never revealed who it was with. He said, ‘I wrecked the marriage. I broke my promise not to have any flings. I think I wanted to wreck the marriage, so I had an affair in England when I was making
Guns of Navarone
and I was so happy that I started thinking about divorcing Hjördis.'

He didn't divorce her because, he said, ‘I was desperate not to ever divorce. Call it an insane quirk, but that's how I felt about divorce.'

Despite Hjördis's agoraphobia, David was able to get her sedated enough so they could go to the horse races at Ascot with Greg Peck and his wife Véronique.

Filming the shipwreck scene in Shepperton's large tank was a miserable experience for the whole cast. ‘The water was freezing,' said David, ‘so Lee Thompson allowed us to drink copious amounts of brandy so we were all slightly pissed except for Greg Peck. He could match us drink for drink, yet he never so much as staggered or slurred his words. It was really quite disgusting to see a man able to handle his liquor like that.'

The scene proved hazardous to film as the actors were thrown about the tank in water stirred up by a wave machine. Peck received a head injury and, worse, Niven cut his lip which turned septic and landed him in hospital. He was gravely ill for two weeks.

The only scene still to be shot was of Niven and Peck rigging the guns to explode. ‘While I was dying in hospital,' David told me, ‘some Columbia executives flew in from the States to meet Carl Foreman and Lee Thompson to discuss what they would do if and when I died. When I heard this I discharged myself against doctor's orders and we shot the scene in three days. I just about made it through and then I was ill for another seven weeks. The studio brass didn't so much as send me a grape.'

Way down in the cast list of
The Guns of Navarone
was Michael Trubshawe who had one scene but not with Niven. Trubshawe recalled, ‘When David saw me on the set, he ignored me. I couldn't understand it. He seemed embarrassed by my presence. He only wanted to be with the bigger stars.' I don't believe David cold-shouldered Trubshawe for that reason. And I was never convinced by Trubshawe's theory that it was because he reminded Niven too much of the past, because Niven was
always
talking about the past. I think it had more to do with the way Trubshawe helped David's marriage to Hjördis get off to a bad start; perhaps he somehow blamed Trubshawe for setting off the almost immediate deterioration.

The Guns of Navarone
was a smashing success, the biggest David had since
Around the World in 80 Days
. It would be his last really massive box office hit.

When he finished his final scene, he hastily returned to Château d'Oex to convalesce from his infection. By this time Hjördis was completely incapable of taking care of him. ‘When David had been ill and we got home, I didn't sleep with him because he needed to convalesce,' said Hjördis. ‘I slept in another room. When he wanted to come to my room, I wouldn't let him in. By then I had lost interest in being intimate.'

David spoke about that time to me:

It was such a difficult time because I had been ill and then I recovered, but Hjördis was ill
all
the time. People thought she was a hypochondriac – that she only
thought
she was ill. But she was very sick. I'm afraid I got very frustrated and before long I lost patience with her, which was terrible of me. She couldn't help the way she was.

She became ever more crazy, I'm afraid to say. Her behaviour was most erratic. I kept thinking she was a manic depressive, and I had visions of Vivien [Leigh].

I loved the outdoors and went cross country skiing, but she preferred to stay indoors because she was afraid to go out. She liked to sit in the Palace Hotel with some of her friends and play cards all afternoon.