Born, raised and trained, at least in her early years, in Australia, Coral Browne was a woman of sides, opposite and in competition. She looked like an aristocrat, but she had the mouth of a sailor. Her acid wit could reduce her victims to tears, yet she was horrified at being the cause of their pain. She was a lover of men, and of women, yet her apparent worldliness hid insecurities that damaged her relationships.Her most famous roles were in films and on television. She won a BAFTA in 1984 for playing herself in Alan Bennett's An Englishman Abroad, which described Coral's meeting with the spy Guy Burgess in Moscow in 1958 (Alan Bates played Burgess); in 1972, she was Chloe Moon, a bitchy theatre critic who has an electric encounter with camp-as-Christmas Vincent Price in Theatre Of Blood; and as vile theatrical agent Mercy Croft, she fingers Susannah York for special treatment and spirits her away from Beryl Reid, in the movie of The Killing Of Sister George.
On stage, there were equal successes. Most notably, she took the title role in Mrs Warren's Profession, George Bernard Shaw's treatise on prostitution that so shocked its Edwardian audience when first played, but which delighted theatre-goers in the '70s; and there were many other triumphs.
In her private life, Coral reportedly had an affair with an unnamed actress, possibly Beatrix Lehmann or Mary Morris, both unconventional in looks but fiercely passionate in their work, and, presumably, their play. This story comes from Victoria Price, Coral's stepdaughter from her marriage to her second husband, Vincent Price. There's no other verification, but Coral's sexuality is satisfyingly indefinable. It was Vincent himself, when asked at her death if she had any favourite hymns, who replied, 'Yes - and quite a few hers.' A good joke, but with a grain of truth.
Her male lovers were many, and included the singer Paul Robeson, actor Michael Hordern, multi-talented Jack Buchanan, the designer Cecil Beaton, and her husbands Philip Pearman and Vincent Price. Philip was almost certainly gay, so this was something of a marriage of convenience, but there is no doubt the couple loved each other, even to the brink of consummation. When Philip died, Browne was devastated, as her many friends testify to this day.
Her second marriage lasted until her own death in 1991, and Vincent himself died not much beyond that. The nearly 20 years they had together started passionately, and involved much travel. Attempts to work together were limited, and dismal, but their private life was healthy, at least until their health started to decline. Coral became possessive, timid in her outlook, jealous and afraid. It must also have been difficult to stand by watch as her husband got all the work, while she was largely forgotten. The success of An Englishman Abroad largely made up for this, and a couple of other jobs, notably Dennis Potter's Dreamchild, helped to consolidate her renewed currency.
One perennial thorn in her side was her mother, Vicky, who was constantly and persistently critical of her daughter's style, her choices, her perceived neglect. In later life, after the death of her husband, she took a flat round the corner from Coral, in Eaton Place, so it seemed there would be no escape from the matriarchal punishment, until Coral and Vincent decided to live in America, not exactly abandoning her, but ensuring a satisfying distance. Ultimately, she ended her life in a retirement home at the age of 100, scant months before Coral herself was taken by cancer. It was Coral's disappointment that she was never able to enjoy life without the nagging disapproval of her mother.
Rose Collis's book is a treat. Meaty, sparky, littered with theatrical stories and witty asides, she writes with heart and a solid appreciation of her subject's impact on her profession. The sadness of no longer being able to experience the great stage performances of one of the most glamorous and affecting actresses of the twentieth century, is tempered by the litany of witness statements from those who acted with Coral, and clips from contemporary reviews. It seems there were few who had a bad word to say about her skill and talent. She was sometimes the only bright thing in a sea of gloom, and could make up for a production's multitude of disappointments just by being there.
Her idiosyncrasies are beautifully described: the athletic eyebrow, arching at a moment's notice to make camp comment; the litany of filthy phrases that would give her free entry to the most earthy haunts; the insistence on only the best couture, and hang the expense. Brittle sometimes, but big-hearted, an absolute professional, and uncommonly kind when it really mattered.
Read many biographies, and they leave you with a feeling that you might just as well have gone to Wikipedia, since some writers think a list of performances and bald facts make a biography. This is a red-blooded telling of a white-hot life, and stands a Cecil-Beaton-hat taller than the rest.
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