Frymus, Agata, 2020, Damsels and Divas: European Stardom in Silent Hollywood. Rutgers University Press,  260 pages

Fatima Qaraan
York University
Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Agata Frymus’s Damsels and Divas: European Stardom in Silent Hollywood is an in-depth exploration of the lives and careers of three prominent European actresses—Pola Negri, Vilma Bánky, and Jetta Goudal—during the silent film era. This book not only chronicles their rise to fame but also examines how “the construction of female stars is especially important, given their ability to illustrate the inner workings of patriarchy; what we say about famous screen actors is often a displaced form of the prevailing cultural ideology at large (2).” Frymus analyses American fan magazines, studio documents and film narratives to illustrate how these actresses navigated their roles in the American film industry in the silent era and during the transition to sound films. The book delves into “the concept of white femininity and its relationship to Americanization” (8) to show that “female stars have importance as vessels that facilitate the circulation of concepts of femininity, ethnicity, and identity, which helps to shape and develop socially sanctioned modes of behavior” (9). Frymus contextualizes the careers of these actresses within broader societal trends, making it clear that their success was intertwined with the cultural narratives of their time. By examining their portrayals in film and their reception by American audiences, Frymus sheds light on the ways in which these women challenged or conformed to prevailing stereotypes. The book is divided into eight chapters, each focusing on a specific aspect of each actress’ career and the broader cultural context in which they all operated. Frymus’s research thus extends beyond each of the individual biographies and offers critical insights into the cultural landscape of early 20th-century America.

The first two chapters focus on Pola Negri, an actress who “came to prominence by playing roles of seductive, passionate women” (2). In Chapter 1, “Pola Negri and Romance,” Frymus examines how Negri’s star persona was crafted through her audience’s perception of her seduction and passion, shaped primarily by her highly publicized relationships with Rudolph Valentino and Rod La Rocque. Valentino died suddenly during their relationship and “producers saw this as a real-life opportunity to engage with the tragic femme fatale type” (21)  in order to craft Negri’s image. The actress’s “conspicuous exhibition of grief” (30) at Valentino’s funeral gave “credence to the idea of Negri as representing primitive and eternal femininity” (30). Negri’s displays of emotion were criticized because only “several months after Negri “trailed widow’s weeds across the continent,” she was already finding solace in the arms of her current husband” (26). Chapter 2, “Pola Negri as the Vamp,” examines how Negri’s star persona as a vamp was emphasized by her roles in films like Bella Donna (1923) and The Spanish Dancer (1923), solidifying her reputation as a dangerous yet captivating figure in film. Studio publicity and fan magazines portrayed her as both alluring and threatening “against the backdrop of…widespread and often irrational hostility toward foreign influences” (37). She was framed as a serial romantic by the tabloids, “othering” her from the “glowing white woman [who is] virtuousness and moral” (49). Frymus argues that Negri’s European ethnicity was commodified, emphasizing her “othered” position in a racial hierarchy that privileged whiteness. Negri’s vamp persona symbolized the era’s fascination with—and fear of—cultural difference, making her a figure of both admiration and suspicion.

Chapters three, four and five shift the focus to Hungarian born actress, Vilma Bánky, whose image, despite her European background, was constructed to represent “an epitome of idealized passive femininity through…her conspicuously pale or white features” (64). In Chapter 3, “Vilma Bánky and Whiteness,” Frymus examines how Bánky’s roles on and off-screen “worked in tandem to construct her as lacking agency, thus, to portray her stardom as a perfect embodiment of white, nonthreatening womanhood” (64). A key strategy used to achieve this image was her relationship with actor Rod La Rocque, which was heavily publicized to reinforce her image as a devoted, marriage-focused woman. Bánky’s rise to stardom is described as a “Cinderella scenario” (65) in which she was “given [her] chance because of the transformative action of a male producer” (65). Frymus argues that Bánky was “referred to merely as a girl forced into the show, unlike Pola Negri, the show girl that craves attention” (67). Bánky’s publicized love life and emphasis on domesticity served to distance her from her Hungarian roots, assimilating her into a type of “safe, trouble-free immigrant womanhood” (69). Chapter 4, “Vilma Bánky as the Leading Lady” discusses how Bánky’s roles in The Eagle (1925), The Son of the Sheik (1926) and The Winning of Barbara Worth (1926) sketched “the outline of Bánky’s persona, particularly in the context of her safe sexuality” (82). Bánky’s debut film, The Eagle (1925), presented the actress in the position of “an object of admiration…she has very little, if nothing, to say about her own fate,” representing the era’s ideals of American womanhood.

The Son of the Sheik (1926) replicated many aspects of The Eagle (1925), specifically, “the paradigms of Western courtship where a woman yields to the seduction attempt of the hero” (91). Bánky is depicted wearing a white gown that was used as an “aesthetic apparatus to render white women as idealized beings, permeated by an otherworldly glow,” (88). Her “whiteness” is emphasized to exaggerate the significance of the ability of her physical features to override her ethnic background. The plot of The Winning of Barbara Worth (1926) reinforces traditional gender roles by showing that “in order to win the heart of the wholesome leading lady, Holmes has to demonstrate his willpower and, by extension, his masculine value” (93). Frymus argues that “the star was repeatedly given the parts of righteous yet inherently passive women whose decency eventually grants them happy endings alongside the male protagonist…reaffirming conservative gender values” (101). In Chapter 5, “Vilma Bánky and Marriage,” Frymus examines how Bánky’s meticulously planned wedding (102) and “ensuing marriage successfully integrated Bánky’s personal affairs into her filmic narrative by validating her alignment with the Cinderella myth, furthering her ongoing Americanization” (102). Her image was important in reconciling the “apparent incompatibility between the increasing professionalism of women and conservative gender norms” (117). This was achieved by belittling her professional career “so it could be presented as concomitant with the institution of marriage, rather than constituting as a direct threat to it” (121). Bánky’s carefully curated public persona and film roles served to reinforce traditional gender norms while simultaneously navigating the complexities of her identity, reflecting the broader cultural tensions of the era.

The last three chapters explore the career of Jetta Goudal whose “cinematic oeuvre illuminates the workings of a prevailing Western logic, according to which ‘The Orient’ is not defined in any rigid terms” (122). In Chapter 6, “Jetta Goudal and Exoticism,” Frymus examines the exotic aspect of Goudal’s on-screen persona by exploring “how certain elements of the star’s physique were used to fetishize the idea of ethnic difference” (123). Unlike Negri or Bánky, Goudal was frequently cast in roles that blurred ethnic lines—playing characters coded as Mexican, Asian, or Middle Eastern—despite her European background. Frymus analyzes Goudal’s dual identity: she was promoted as a “French native” to evoke sophistication, yet her roles often leaned into Orientalist stereotypes. Goudal’s perceived “otherness” stemmed from her dark features and refusal to conform to Anglo-Saxon beauty standards. The actress’s status as “being a supposedly exotic star,” (125) meant that “Goudal could be deemed fascinating or mysterious but not beautiful, because her looks did not conform to the prerogatives of white femininity” (125). Press coverage of the star was usually complemented “by photographs that accentuated non-Western sartorial styles and garments, simultaneously securing Goudal’s reputation as an ethnic other and a dangerous vamp” (127). This theme is expanded on in Chapter 7, “Jetta Goudal and Mystery” in which Frymus describes the “ideological functions of [Goudal’s] double identity as both an exotic object and a French native,” (142) that emphasized her mysterious and Orientalized identity in the public eye. Unlike Negri’s attraction to attention and Bánky’s highly publicized marriage life, Goudal preferred privacy.  She colluded with her film producers who shaped “that desire into a sense of alluring mystery” (143).

Frymus goes on to criticize how Goudal’s casting as a “mixed-race spy in The Bright Shawl work[ed] to collapse the distinction between her private antics and the ever-potent fantasy of Mata Hari” (156). Mata Hari was a Dutch exotic dancer and courtesan who was convicted of being a spy for Germany during World War I, her exotic persona and air of mystery were qualities constantly compared to Goudal by the media. An article from Motion Picture Classic claimed that Goudal could, in fact, be the long-lost daughter of the infamous Dutch dancer (154). This comparison further entrenched Goudal’s association with an imagined and fabricated version of the Orient. Although, “Hari’s Oriental image [was] entirely fabricated [it] sparked human imagination,” (155) just like that of Goudal’s mysterious behaviour, making the comparison more believable. In the book’s final chapter, “Jetta Goudal and Temperament,” Frymus shows how Goudal’s career revealed the industry’s fraught relationship with racial ambiguity and its exploitation of European performers to reinforce colonial narratives. The actress’s career was framed, in part, by her defiance of studio control, including a high-profile lawsuit against Cecil B. DeMille. Goudal refused to adhere to DeMille’s filming schedule due to health concerns; the lawsuit was notable because Goudal, unusually for the time, publicly accused DeMille of unsafe and exploitative working conditions. Although Goudal won the legal battle, “her image became deeply embedded in the cultural currency presenting European performers as prone to insubordination” (158). Shortly after, Goudal only made “two films before retiring…partly because of her tenacity in fighting for her rights as a laborer” (177). Her career’s trajectory was used as a “cautionary tale of a woman who paid the highest price for being a ‘bad girl’.” (178). By framing her behavior as childlike, the producers took control of the “public account” making Goudal’s experiences a poignant reminder of the industry’s tendency to exploit racial ambiguity while simultaneously punishing those who dared to assert their independence.

To sum up, “Damsels and Divas, European Stardom in Silent Hollywood” vividly describes the lives of actresses Pola Negri, Vilma Bánky, and Jetta Goudal while offering critical insights into the complexities of female representation both on and off-screen in 1920s America. It situates these actresses within broader discussions about gender norms, immigration, and identity politics. By doing so, it encourages readers to reconsider how we understand stardom and its implications for cultural representation throughout history. Frymus’s work not only celebrates these actresses’ contributions, it also invites the audience to reflect on the ongoing relevance of their experiences in today’s discourse about women’s representation in the media. Her analysis highlights the contradictions faced by these actresses as they navigated their dual identities—both as European women and as Hollywood stars—often having to reconcile their heritage with the expectations of American society. This book is essential reading for scholars, feminists and film enthusiasts alike who wish to explore the intersection of gender, culture, and identity in the silent film era. Damsels and Divas not only enriches our understanding of the historical context surrounding these actresses but also serves as a vital reminder of the ongoing struggles for representation and agency in the media, encouraging contemporary audiences to engage critically with broader discourses that shape society’s perceptions of gender and identity.

Author Bio

Fatima Qaraan (she/her) is a communication and culture expert, a theatre director, and a doctoral candidate in political science at York University. She is published with the Canadian Journal of Academic Librarianship andDialogue: The Interdisciplinary Journal of Popular Culture and Pedagogy. Her PhD dissertation explores how gender-role dynamics, social and cultural norms, and consent legislation impact child marriage in Canada.