Lauren Bacall (1924–2014), or Betty, as she was known to friends, was one of the last great movie stars of the Golden Age of Hollywood. Her career spanned seven decades and was one of the longest and most distinguished in the history of show business. Yet it wasn’t easy. After becoming a star at nineteen with her first film, To Have and Have Not (1944), she joked there was nowhere for her to go but down. She became an icon of film noir before the term was even coined. A cool, sophisticated, sexy, and ultramodern woman, she projected confidence and independence.
Lauren The Queen of Cool is the first book to bring together all aspects of the legendary star’s life and career, exploring her iconic style, her extensive body of work, as well as her friendships and relationships with some of the most famous figures of the twentieth century. Her relationship with Humphrey Bogart is the stuff of legend, the most beloved pairing of classical Hollywood, a perfect blend of romance, glamour, and cinematic glory. When Bogart died in 1957, Bacall was a mere thirty-three years old, and for the rest of her life she would wrestle with the legend of her late husband, struggling to prove to the industry that she was more than just the most famous widow in Hollywood. That she managed to achieve in spades, becoming a two-time Tony Award–winning Broadway star and bestselling author, and continuing a successful, though at times rocky, screen career, which brought her an Academy Award nomination in 1996 and an Honorary Oscar in 2009. Combining meticulous research with stunning photographs, author Anthony Uzarowski presents in this volume a multidimensional portrait of the woman and the star that was Lauren Bacall.
For a star of her stature, Lauren Bacall remains underexamined in non-fiction, possibly because she framed her story on her own terms in her three autobiographies early on and spent the next half-century reinforcing that narrative.
The definitive biography of Bacall - one that would meaningfully reframe her myth through a modern lens - is therefore yet to be written. Queen of Cool by Anthony Uzarowski is not that biography. It is, though, a compact and smooth read with some fresh takes on her performances, personality, and stardom.
As a performer, Bacall is handled with gushing adoration and the occasional cliche (apparently, the camera loved Bacall and she loved it back) - but that mostly results in refreshing revisions of her work, much of which has until now been underrecognized. Uzarowski understands that she adapted her characters to the confines of her star persona but was also an underappreciated thespian.
Bacall's rapid rise to the top and status as an icon of film noir - the queen of cool - have been analysed to bits, as they should be, since they open a unique window into the "masculinization" of women in postwar Hollywood with its myriad feminist-meets-sexist undertones. Uzarowski makes the excellent point that Bacall actually rarely played straight-up femme fatales and was not the one-note stereotype of legend even at the start.
But where he really validates the book is his depiction of Bacall in the 1950s. It is a bizarre trajectory: a leading lady with real star power who had to audition for parts, signed major deals yet was often given second-rate material, starred in huge hits yet was rarely their top-billed draw, and, as Uzarowski argues, was labeled last-season in her thirties because her hardboiled image didn't vibe with the regressive gender roles of the decade.
Indeed, Bacall's bosslady charisma would likely have found more avenues in a different environment. While Uzarowski is not the first to make this observation, he is the rare film historian to approach it through all of her 1950s performances - even minor ones such as Woman's World and The Cobweb that have so far gone largely underanalysed.
Uzarowski makes the case that Bacall's ambition was also suffocated by her husband and co-star Humphrey Bogart's patronising hold on her. It is a welcome critical scrutiny of their much-romanticised - not least by herself - union, and a daring angle the book could use more of.
Uzarowski efficiently illustrates the paradox that is the central ingredient of her allure: her special blend of toughness and vulnerability. However, this paradox was already the foundation of her autobiographies, and Uzarowski stops short of profoundly analysing what it amounted to. He often plainly repeats her story as she told it, and lets her handle the wheel from her grave like she did while alive.
The classy but predictable deco-noir visual styling, with a cover shot of her once again glancing sharply at something in the sidelines and dangling a cigarette between her fingers, further repeats the familiar Bacall narrative. Paired with a handsome but narrow collection of photographs - omitting her childhood and parents for some reason - it underscores how black and white, both figuratively and literally, the visual framing of Bacall tends to be, and how it cries out for a fresh take; the evolution of her stardom was both visually and artistically rich, and noir queen was really just its initial formation.
Uzarowski mostly avoids the biography trope of attempting to act as the subject's psychologist (a trap especially acute when so few people were interviewed and Bacall's children refused to contribute), but he is sympathetic to her to the point of glossing over her dark side. She was at times described as impossibly difficult to deal with, and ignoring that - or failing to clearly argue that she did not deserve the reputation - for almost the entirety of the book repeats her self-penned narrative and reads as blindfolded hagiography.
There are several plausible angles to research and reframe the Bacall myth. To name a few: Looking at Bacall from today, what was - and is - her place in the context of the several waves of feminism that her long career encompassed? What was the impact and scope of her political activism? How did her insistence on letting her age show but also on working until her death influence or reflect youth-obsessed celebrity culture?
While Uzarowski addresses all of these topics, his approach is surface-level, summarizing rather than interrogating, at times - especially when rushing through her final three decades - in the style of a glossy entertainment magazine. Adding to the aura of superficiality is the fact that the author calls his subject Lauren - a name given to Betty Bacall by Hollywood honchos that no one actually called her in real life. How about Bacall, the name of both the legend and the person herself?
Queen of Cool is an engaging and accessible read for Bacall fans and cinema enthusiasts. One hopes the definitive biography - and perhaps a gorgeous coffee table book or two - about this uniquely durable star will follow.
I was lucky enough to get my early copy of this gorgeous new biography of Lauren Bacall. I really liked it, this book delves into the different aspects of Bacall's life and image, and many of the observations are really sharp. I knew quite a lot about her going in, and yet I was still surprised and I feel like i have better understanding of who she was and the challenges she came up against. A very cosy, engaging read.
Excellent book, beautifully written and well researched. Bacall becomes alive, and I love how this author really gets into all of her movie and theatre work, with obvious love and understanding for his subject. The book does a fine job of reframing Bacall's life and legacy for a new generation of cinema lovers. Must check out Uzarowski's other books.
Really good read, loved finding out more about this iconic woman. Well-written and always interesting. I had no idea how difficult her career was at times.