Massachusetts, Mexico City, Los Angeles, 1956
Transitions
The night before Anastasia opened on July 6, Lola lay awake watching shadows cross the ceiling like crows in flight. She knew that this performance had to be a success, or her career would really be over.
“Sleep during the day,” Stella told her over the phone, “so you arrive at the theater rested.”
Lola took a mild sedative that afternoon and felt better after her siesta.
But she needn’t have worried. The reviews were fabulous.
She called me a few days later. “My room is filled with flowers and telegrams!” she told me.
I’d seen photos in the magazines. Lola in a navy dress with a sailor collar, designed to convey youth and innocence. Lola in an elegant white dress with a ruched bodice and a daring décolleté, designed to convey opulence and royalty.
“I’m no match for Marilyn Monroe,” she said, “but I didn’t look so bad. I only wish you were here to do my hair and give me moral support, Mara!”
But, as they say, only the sea is eternal, not fame. In September, the American papers were still writing about Anastasia—only not about the Falmouth production. A film with the same name, starring Ingrid Bergman, was set to open in December, and the critics were already buzzing that Bergman was Academy Award material. The play finished its run, and Lola returned to Mexico. She wanted to do more live theater in her own country and in her own language, but no offers materialized.
In mid-December she called, breathless with excitement. “I have news!” she blurted out.
I thought maybe she’d heard something about Miguela Ruiz.
“I just got a letter from Jean Sirol, the French cultural attaché. I’ll read it to you.
December 14, 1956
Dear Miss del Río,
On behalf of the Ambassador of France to the Republic of Mexico, it is my honor to invite you to the Film Festival of Cannes, which will take place in May of next year, as a member of the jury to select the most outstanding films and film professionals of 1956.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed. “Congratulations, Lola.”
“Well, this is one role where María Félix can’t upstage me! Even if she someday gets to be a judge at Cannes, I’ll always hold the honor of being the first woman!” She paused. “It would be terrific if you could come, too, Mara. I want my hair to look perfect, and you’ve never been to France. Besides, it would be so much more fun if you were there.”
I would have loved to go to Cannes, but for the moment, it was out of the question. “Lolly just had her second baby,” I said, “so I can’t be away that long, but I could go to Mexico before your trip to help you get ready.”
“I’d like that,” she said.