Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today we are wading
deep into a life that was just, I mean, defined
by this incredible glamour, but also relentless
public scrutiny and this spectacular ability
to reinvent herself. We are talking about Elizabeth
Taylor. Yeah, and when most people think of her,
you know, they conjure these images of incredible
jewels, the eight marriages, the... Total chaos
of the Burton years. Right. The headlines. Exactly.
She is, on the surface, just synonymous with
classical Hollywood excess. But if we only look
at those headlines, we miss the real story, which
is how she strategically navigated and ultimately
weaponized that very chaos. Absolutely. The biography
you sent us, it covers her entire life, from
being this child star, you know, meticulously
molded by the old MGM studio system, all the
way to becoming the world's highest paid movie
star. And then the final act. transition into
this force of profound humanitarian work who
really understood that her fame itself was her
most powerful tool. So our mission today is to
really trace that duality. How does someone who
starts out as this carefully manufactured product
under intense studio control? How does she liberate
herself? How does she seize that financial independence
and then completely transform into a serious
political and social activist? That shift. From
the controlled actress to the independent icon,
that's the story. It really is. We're not just
analyzing a star. We're looking at the prototype,
really, for the modern celebrity. Okay, so let's
unpack her origins. Because they immediately
show this level of... social sophistication and
kind of an international grounding that you just
don't typically associate with a purebred Hollywood
starlet. That's such a crucial distinction. I
mean, she was born in London in February 1932,
a fact that people just forget. Right, to American
parents. To American parents. Her father, Francis,
was a successful art dealer, and her mother,
Sarah, was a retired stage actress. So because
of that, she was a dual British -American citizen
right from birth. And it was her father's job
that put her in this fascinating pre -Hollywood
world, wasn't it? Precisely. His art gallery
clientele, it wasn't just artists. I mean, it
included powerful political figures. Her unofficial
godfather was Colonel Victor Casselit. a really
high -ranking British politician. So he was a
huge early influence on her, you know, her political
awareness, her social manners. This was not a
humble, aspiring background. This was a well
-connected international family. And it was world
politics, not a desire for fame, that actually
pushed her towards Hollywood. Yes. It was the
looming threat of World War II in Europe. That
was the deciding factor. In early 1939, the U
.S. ambassador, Joseph P. Kennedy. The patriarch
of the Kennedy family. The very same. He strongly
advised American families to get back home. So
Sarah and the children left that April and settled
in Los Angeles. So she lands in Beverly Hills
not for a film career, but basically for safety.
And the industry finds her through her father's
new gallery. That's exactly how it happened.
Her father opens this new gallery, and it starts
drawing these powerful clients from the film
industry, partly thanks to an endorsement from
the columnist Hedda Hopper, who was a family
friend. And the attention she got was immediate.
Instantaneous. And it was all driven by her striking
physical appearance. Which brings us to her most
famous feature. Her eyes. They were this vivid
blue that often looked violet. and they were
framed by those famous, dense, dark, double eyelashes.
Which was a genetic mutation, right? A rare genetic
mutation, yeah. This feature was instantly her
brand, but ironically, it's what tripped her
up at the very beginning. Tell us about that
false start at Universal Pictures. Why on earth
would they drop a girl with such remarkable features?
She signed with them in 1941, made one tiny film,
and they just terminated her contract after a
year. The casting director in this notoriously
short -sighted move just said the kid has nothing.
Her eyes are too old. Her eyes are too old. What
does that even mean? It meant she didn't fit
the mold of the typical, you know, saccharine,
sweet child star of the day, like a Shirley Temple.
Taylor had this... directness, this unnatural
physical maturity that, as she put it later,
used to frighten grownups. It's so fascinating
that the very thing Universal saw as a liability,
this lack of conventional child sweetness, was
exactly what MGM would later exploit to create
a totally different kind of star. MGM saw raw,
valuable material. They signed her in 1943 after
she auditioned for Lassie Come Home. They saw
the potential in that duality. The flawless beauty
mixed with that slightly unnerving directness.
But the second she signed that contract. Her
childhood was over. It truly ended right there.
And that leads us straight to National Velvet
in 1944. This was the moment the studio showed
the full, terrifying extent of its control over
the product. Oh, it was ruthless control, even
down to her physical development. She was 12
when filming started. To make sure she looked
right for the part, the studio delayed filming
for months so she could grow an inch or two.
They waited for her to grow. They did, and they
made her wear braces for the perfect smile and
even demanded she have two of her baby teeth
pulled. This wasn't nurturing a talent. This
was engineering a commercial image from the ground
up. She called MGM a big extender. It was. The
studio system meant her entire life was scheduled
to the minute. School, filming, then rigorous
evening classes, and dancing, singing, movement.
She had no real private life, no input at all.
So even though National Velvet was this huge
success and got her rave reviews... She grew
to resent it. She intensely disliked many of
the films she was assigned, feeling they didn't
respect her intelligence or her actual desire
to act. So given that deep resentment for the
factory floor, how did MGM keep control as she
got into her mid -teens? They pivoted. They shifted
from manufacturing the child actress to manufacturing
the romantic object. When she turned 15, the
publicity... machine just went into overdrive,
creating this mature public image. So they're
setting up photo shoots, arranged dates. Oh,
absolutely. Carefully positioning her as the
heir apparent to screen sirens like Lana Turner
and Ava Gardner. And that transition seems to
hit its peak with Father of the Bride in 1950,
which became this cultural moment that perfectly
merged her manufactured screen life with her,
well, her manufactured private life. It was brilliant,
cynical marketing. MGM released the movie where
she plays this beautiful young woman getting
married at the exact same time as her real life,
highly publicized, lavish wedding to the hotel
air Conrad Nicky Hilton Jr. And the studio treated
the wedding like a movie premiere. Completely.
It was an all expenses paid publicity event designed
to cash in on the public's fascination. And it
worked. Financially, it was huge. It grossed
six million dollars. But more importantly, it
transitioned her seamlessly from teen idol to
young. adult star in the public eye mgm used
her real life all packaged and polished as the
trailer for her movies but the real artistic
breakthrough came a year later it did a place
in the sun 1951 right taylor herself said this
was the first film where she felt she was genuinely
asked to act not just you know display her beauty
or her public persona she took on a really complex
adult role She did, and the director George Stevens
explained her casting perfectly. He said he cast
her because she embodied the illusion of the
beautiful girl in the yellow Cadillac convertible
that every American boy thinks he can marry.
She wasn't playing a woman. She was playing the
American dream of unattainable perfection. And
the critical acclaim cemented her as a serious
actress. It did, but the machine had already
manufactured the instability in her private life
that was about to completely overshadow her art.
And just as she gets that critical acceptance,
her whole classical Hollywood story starts to
implode because of her personal life. The marriage
to Nikki Hilton ends after, what, eight months?
Eight turbulent months. And that divorce was
brutal. It really highlights the danger of marrying
the illusion the studio created. Hilton was abusive,
a heavy drinker, and she filed for divorce on
grounds of mental cruelty. But because MGM had
publicized the marriage so heavily. The failure
was also a huge public failure. The press was
intensely negative, branding her as emotionally
unstable and spoiled. So with all this new star
power from A Place in the Sun, why didn't she
just break free from MGM right then? What leverage
did the factory still have? The leverage was,
well, it was money and reputation. After the
divorce, MGM punished her. They stuck her in
B pictures just to show they still controlled
her assignments. And more practically, she was
soon married again to Michael Wilding, expecting
her first child. And she needed stability. That
$4 ,700 weekly salary, which is, I mean, well
over $55 ,000 today. Hey, just walk away from
that. You can't. Plus, the studio financed a
house for them. So signing a new seven -year
contract in 1952 was an economic necessity, even
if she hated the creative chains that came with
it. But signing that contract also led to the
prestige pictures. So the control came with a
career boost. Absolutely. She moved into the
big epics, the serious dramas. Giant in 56 was
a massive box office success. It was a famously
difficult shoot, but it proved she could anchor
a huge picture with legends like James Dean and
Rock Hudson. And that led to her first Oscar
nomination for Raintree County. It did. She was
now an actress with undeniable box office power.
The personal drama, though, was about to become
just seismic. The Mike Todd tragedy and then
immediately what happened with Eddie Fisher.
That permanently changed how the public saw her.
Mike Todd, her third husband, a big theatrical
producer, he died in a plane crash in March 1958.
Taylor was just... And the studio pushed her
back onto the set of Cat on a hot tin roof only
three weeks later. Three weeks. Three weeks.
She later said that the intensity of that role,
playing Maggie the cat, was therapeutic. She
felt she literally became Maggie and that acting
was the only time she could function. And then
while the world is still watching her grieve,
she gets involved with Eddie Fisher, shattering
his marriage to Debbie Reynolds, who was, you
know, America's sweetheart. Right. That created
the whole homewrecker narrative. The scandal
was apocalyptic. I mean, Congress even debated
banning her from returning to the U .S. because
of the moral outrage. But MGM now sensing how
to use this new kind of media frenzy, they capitalized
immediately. They slapped this provocative, highly
sexualized image of her in a slip on the posters
for Kat. on a hot tin roof. They were selling
the scandal. And the film grossed $10 million
in the U .S. alone. She was the bad girl, and
the public paid to see her embody it. The irony
then just peaks with Butterfield 8 in 1960. She
hated that film. Not spiced it. And yet, it won
her her first Best Actress. Oscar. She fought
the studio. She knew they chose the film about
a high class call girl specifically to exploit
her notorious public image. It was the last film
on her contract. They basically packaged her
current scandalous persona and sold it. She won
the Oscar all while nearly dying from a severe
illness later that year. It was the absolute
end of the MGM factory era and she walked away
with the ultimate prize having been forced to
sell her soul for it. Which leads us to the game
changer. Cleopatra. This is where the star finally
breaks the system and takes control of the whole
financial model. This is the critical moment.
This is the template for modern celebrity contracts.
Taylor became the first movie star in history
to be paid $1 million for a single role. A million
dollars in 1963. A million dollars, but even
more revolutionary was the back -end deal, 10
% of the gross profits. This completely decoupled
her earnings from the studio's costs, guaranteeing
she got paid no matter how much the budget ballooned.
It was a true tower move. And the production,
I mean, it did balloon. Tell us about the chaos
around Cleopatra. Chaos is an understatement.
Filming was halted constantly, bad weather, changing
directors, and most terrifyingly, Taylor's n***a.
near fatal illness. In March of 61, she got this
severe pneumonia that needed an emergency tracheotomy.
She literally almost died. One news agency even
prematurely reported her death. And that final
budget was just staggering. $62 million, which
today is like, what, over $640 million? It's
the most expensive film ever made up to that
point. And that budget was constantly fed by
the biggest media frenzy ever seen, the Liz and
Dick phenomenon. Her affair with Richard Burton.
Her highly public on -set extramarital affair
with Richard Burton was the ultimate publicity
engine. They were being photographed constantly,
and the public could not get enough of the forbidden
romance. So why was that one paparazzi photo
of them on a yacht in Ischia such a key turning
point for celebrity media? Well, up until then,
stars had managed some degree of privacy, even
during scandals. But that specific photograph
marked the moment the paparazzi became this relentless
global industry. It signaled that stars could
no longer control their image or their environment.
The media was suddenly everywhere. Everywhere.
And the Liz and Dick narrative became the prototype
for nonstop, intense celebrity coverage. The
moral outrage was enormous. The Vatican condemned
them for erotic vagrancy. Wow. So even though
Cleopatra nearly bankrupted Fox, the star couple
used all that scrutiny to build an economic empire.
They turned themselves into a brand. Over the
next decade, they generated a combined $88 million
in revenue. Burton famously claimed their relationship
generated more business activity than one of
the smaller African nations. That's incredible.
Their films together, they were sold almost entirely
on the basis of their scandalous relationship.
The art often took a backseat to the gossip column
they had become. And yet. they still managed
to achieve their critical peak during all this
excess with Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf. in
1966. This was her masterful pivot. She had to
prove she was an actress, not just a tabloid
fixture. So she took the most daring step possible.
She deliberately destroyed her own glamour. She
gained weight, wore this terrible wig, used makeup
to convincingly play the 50 -year -old bitter,
abrasive Martha. She was actively trying to look
unattractive to serve the role. Exactly. And
that film was groundbreaking for its adult themes
and language. It really pushed the boundaries
of what was acceptable in American cinema. And
her performance was just universally praised.
It was. She deservedly won her second best actress
Oscar for it. It was proof that beneath the global
persona, the disciplined actress that MGM manufactured
was still there, capable of astonishing work
when she had control. And they briefly became
producers themselves, right? With The Taming
of the Shrew. They did, co -producing it in 1967.
That move cemented their creative control. Taylor
had zero Shakespeare experience, but she took
on the difficult role of Kate. The director,
Franco Zeffirelli, was so impressed he later
said she invented the part from scratch. So that
was the apex of that era. Total creative freedom,
phenomenal earning power. It was, but by the
late 60s, the novelty started to wear off. The
public was tiring of the spectacle and her career
momentum began to fade as a new, less glamorous
new Hollywood started to emerge. So if we look
at the timeline from that first MGM wedding in
1950 all the way to her eighth marriage, the
media always framed her need for a husband as...
some kind of emotional instability. Okay, let's
unpack this. What did the sources say was the
deeper motivation there? The sources consistently
point back to the trauma of the MGM factory floor.
I mean, she had this extremely sheltered, structured
childhood, followed by immense sudden fame. And
her rather puritanical upbringing meant she equated
love with legitimate marriage. So each union
was a quest for the stability and independence
she never had under MGM's control. She was trying...
to build a traditional domestic life that the
studio had basically stolen from her. She even
called herself emotionally immature during that
period. She did because of that constant professional
sheltering. So let's focus on the period of maximum
excess. Yeah. The burden era. Detail the sheer
scope of the jet set lifestyle they led. It was
just an unimaginable display of wealth for the
time. They were constantly photographed spending
millions on massive yachts, private jets, furs,
art, and of course the diamonds. The diamonds.
They were maybe the first couple whose public
image was defined entirely by their spending.
They were a walking, talking spectacle of celebrity
maximalism. And central to that image were the
jewels, which almost acted as proof of her stardom
and power. They absolutely were. She was a serious,
knowledgeable collector, but the most famous
pieces were gifts from Burton which cemented
their opulent legend. We're talking masterpieces
like the 33 -carat Krupp diamond. The Taylor
Burton diamond. The 69 -carat Taylor Burton diamond
and the 50 -carat La Peregrina pearl, which dates
back to the 16th century. These weren't just
accessories. They were historical artifacts,
huge financial assets, visually cementing the
status she'd fought for. After her two divorces
from Burton, she tried to find stability by marrying
John Warner. which was a huge shift into the
political world. What was that period like? The
intention was absolutely stability. She focused
all her energy on supporting his political career,
helping him win his seat as a U .S. senator.
She campaigned tirelessly, did everything expected
of a political spouse. But once he was elected...
The life of a politician's wife in Washington,
D .C. proved deadly boring and intensely lonely
for a woman used to global fanfare and creative
chaos. And that boredom led to a deep personal
crisis. It did. She suffered from depression,
gained a lot of weight, and developed a serious
dependency on alcohol and prescription drugs.
This low point eventually led to her first stay
at the Betty Ford Center in 1983. And crucially,
she was the first major celebrity to openly and
publicly admit herself for treatment. Which broke
a huge stigma. It was a massive deal, and it
really paved the way for others to follow. You
could argue that was her first major public humanitarian
statement. And it was at Betty Ford that she
met her final husband, Larry Fortensky. This
marriage, husband number seven, is maybe the
ultimate example of her weaponizing her fame
for good. It is a perfect case study in redirection.
Larry Fortensky was a construction worker she
met while they were both in treatment. Their
wedding in 1991 at Michael Jackson's Neverland
Ranch was one of the decade's most intense media
circuses. So instead of trying to hide from it,
she leaned into it. She sold the exclusive wedding
photos to People magazine for a million dollars.
And that million dollars didn't go into her pocket.
Not a penny. That entire sum became the seed
money she used to launch the Elizabeth Taylor
AIDS Foundation. She turned this sensational
personal event into a massive immediate financial
infusion for a cause she cared deeply about.
That's incredible. Even their eventual divorce
was handled with grace. She remained close to
him and left him a sizable sum in her will. If
we shift focus to her profound religious dedication,
she converted to Judaism in 1959, raised as a
Christian scientist. What was that journey like?
Well, the contrast is huge. Christian science
focuses heavily on spiritual healing, often minimizing
traditional medicine, which was a constant source
of frustration for Taylor, given her numerous
health problems. When she converted to Judaism,
she was adamant it wasn't just for her Jewish
husbands, Mike Todd or Eddie Fisher. She said
she felt she had been Jewish all her life and
found a depth and historical continuity in the
faith that offered her comfort and dignity and
hope. And this wasn't a passive conversion at
all. Her active support for Zionism had immediate
high stakes consequences for her career. It was
a conscious political choice. In 1959, she publicly
bought $100 ,000 worth of Israeli bonds. This
act led to her films being immediately banned
across 18 Arab countries. Wow. For years, right?
For years. That was a tangible financial penalty
for her political stance. It shows that even
before her AIDS activism, she was willing to
sacrifice huge market share for a deeply held
belief. And that dedication peaked during the
1976 and skyjacking incident. It's one of the
most stunning examples of celebrity intervention.
When Israeli citizens were taken hostage in Uganda,
Taylor offered herself to the terrorists as a
replacement hostage. She offered herself as a
hostage. She did. The offer was politely declined
by Israeli officials, but it just demonstrated
the seriousness of her commitment. She was willing
to risk her life for the cause. If we connect
this to the bigger picture, this proactive use
of fame is the constant thread, which leads us
to her most surprising financial achievement.
The fragrance empire. Indeed. The jewels were
the visual shorthand for her glamour, but the
financial structure that gave her lasting independence
was built on selling that fantasy. She was the
second major celebrity, after Sophia Loren, to
launch a signature perfume brand. And White Diamonds
became an absolute behemoth. One of the best
-selling celebrity perfumes of all time. But
what's crucial is the financial nugget here.
Sources estimate she earned more money from her
fragrance collection than from her entire acting
career. More than acting. More than the Burton
era. Yes. The majority of her immense $600 million
to $1 billion estate came from fragrance revenue.
She sold the dream of being Elizabeth Taylor,
one small bottle at a time, and that business
acumen ensured her wealth and, crucially, her
ability to self -fund her charitable work. The
success of that business empire gave her the
financial base to really focus on what became
her most enduring legacy, her humanitarian work.
Her acting career had slowed, but she realized
the fame she had fought for decades was a tool.
She had this incredible clarity. She recognized
that the fame she'd often resented, the scrutiny,
the invasive media was actually a powerful commodity.
She said she decided that with my name, I could
open certain doors. I could take the fame. and
use it to do some good. She realized she didn't
need to fight the paparazzi. She needed to use
them. To amplify her cause, exactly. Yeah, and
her cause, starting in the mid-'80s, was pioneering
the fight against AIDS at a time when political
leaders and other celebrities were just silent.
She was truly one of the very first major voices.
Her activism began in 84 by hosting an AIDS fundraiser.
But the catalyst that forced her into the public
spotlight was the diagnosis and death of her
close friend and giant co -star, Rock Hudson.
His diagnosis in 1985 forced the public to acknowledge
the disease wasn't restricted to marginalized
communities. Right. It was a shock to the system.
And she acted immediately in response to that
tragedy. What did she do? In 1985, she co -founded
the National AIDS Research Foundation, which
quickly merged with another group to become the
American Foundation for AIDS Research, or AMFAR.
She leveraged her entire network to bring attention
and funding to the cause. And later, she founded
her own organization, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS
Foundation, ETA. Why did she need a second organization
when AMFAR was already active? She saw a gap.
Amphar was focused heavily on research, which
was essential. But Taylor realized the immediate
needs of those suffering awareness, education,
direct support services weren't getting enough
attention. So ETAF was for direct action. Exactly.
And this is key to her financial independence.
She famously covered all the overhead costs of
ETAF herself. Wow. That ensured that a much higher
percentage of public donations went directly
to the people who needed help. Her estate continues
to fund the foundation today. She didn't just
donate money, though. She used her star power
to push for policy changes, showing this surprising
political clout in Washington. Her strategy was
direct political confrontation. She testified
before Congress multiple times, advocating tirelessly
for the Ryan White Care Act, the first comprehensive
federal legislation to address HIV AIDS. And
she didn't mince words. She publicly excoriated
the Republican administration for its inaction.
And she used her status to reach the very top,
even persuading President Ronald Reagan to finally
break his silence on the disease. That was a
pivotal moment. The Reagan administration had
been notoriously slow to address the crisis.
But Taylor, using her stature, her personal connection
to Hollywood, and the emotional force of Rock
Hudson's death, persuaded Reagan to publicly
acknowledge the disease in a 1987 speech. It
was the first time a sitting U .S. president
had done so in a major public address. Which
marked a turning point in federal engagement
and resource allocation. This shift from actress
to activist completely redefined her public image
in the final decades of her life. The change
was profound. She was honored with the Presidential
Citizens Medal, the Jean Herschelt Humanitarian
Award. Perhaps most significantly, she received
the Glaude Vanguard Award in 2000. Glaude specifically
noted that she was an icon whose position is
based not on tragedy, but on her work for the
LGBTQ community. Her legacy then rests on this
constant tension between the manufactured persona
and the serious actor. Critics often accused
her of just playing herself because her life
was so enormous it dwarfed her roles. That's
the central paradox. Film historian Janine Basinger
said her persona ate her alive. Yet the work
itself holds up. Five of her films are preserved
in the National Film Registry for their cultural
and historical significance. The artistic quality
is undeniable, even if the media circus made
it impossible for critics to see her simply as
an actress. Culturally, she also earned the title
of accidental feminist. How did her roles challenge
the gender norms of her time? Well, she was this
pre -feminist figure who wielded immense sexual
and financial power. I mean, in National Velvet,
her character literally cross -dresses and wins
a man's race. Right, from the very beginning.
From the start. In films like Butterfield 8,
her character is often in control of her own
finances and her own sexuality, a radical concept
for 1960. She demanded financial leverage and
creative control in a male -dominated industry,
setting a powerful example even if she never
adopted the feminist label herself. She embodied
independence by just taking it. And finally,
her long history of health issues, the chronic
back problems from that national velvet injury,
multiple pneumonias, brain tumors, heart failure,
sounds like a body that endured as much drama
as her life. It does. that back injury from her
childhood troubled her for the rest of her life
she survived so many close calls with pneumonia
she was a fighter right until the very end dying
in 2011 at age 79 from congestive heart failure
and fittingly Her private funeral, a Jewish ceremony,
included one final perfect act of showmanship.
It was an incredible, final, irreverent performance.
The ceremony was scheduled to begin promptly,
but at her explicit request, it was delayed 15
minutes. Her representative said the reason was
simple. She even wanted to be late for her own
funeral. That's just perfect. It was the ultimate
wink to her audience, proving that even in death,
she maintained the integrity of the persona she
had so expertly manufactured and controlled.
What an extraordinary and... and just exhausting
journey we've traced. We watched this disciplined,
tightly controlled child star from the MGM factory
strategically use her dramatic, often chaotic
personal life, not as a source of destruction,
but as a path to seize both financial and creative
control. She leveraged the fame that once nearly
consumed her and funneled it into a humanitarian
engine that continues to save lives today. Her
legacy is one of continuous transformation, defiance,
and redemption. I mean, you have to remember
this arc. She went from being publicly condemned
by the Vatican and scrutinized by Congress for
her affairs to eventually becoming a dame commander
in the British Empire and receiving the Presidential
Citizens Medal for her philanthropy. That level
of societal and political vindication, it just
shows the sheer power of conscious reinvention.
It really does. So what does this all mean for
us today, the learners, looking at modern celebrity
culture? I think you have to consider the sheer
transformative power of redirected celebrity
influence. Elizabeth Taylor became the gold standard
for recognizing that the fame itself is the most
valuable asset. She made more money selling the
dream of glamour through her perfume than she
did during her entire acting career. And critically,
she channeled the massive media spectacle around
her final wedding directly into launching her
AIDS foundation. Exactly. So does her career
prove that in the modern era, the financial and
philanthropic impact of a meticulously managed,
often scandalous celebrity persona, the brand,
is ultimately more impactful and enduring than
the art they originally produce, especially when
it's channeled toward a higher cause? That is
the lesson she left for every celebrity who followed.
It is. And that is a fascinating deep dive. Thank
you for joining us. We'll see you next time.