In the golden age of Hollywood, few stars shone as brightly as Shirley Temple. With her bouncing curls, dimpled cheeks, and unforgettable performances in films like "The Little Colonel" (1935), where she tap-danced down a staircase with Bill "Bojangles" Robinson, she captured the hearts of millions. Her sweet rendition of "On the Good Ship Lollipop" is etched in cinematic history. But behind the scenes, Temple's real life was anything but smooth sailing.
From her very first on-screen appearance in 1932 at the tender age of three, Temple faced mistreatment and abuse, both psychological and sexual. Hollywood tried to hide these flagrant abuses, but many have been well-documented, including in Temple's own memoir, "Child Star: An Autobiography."
Temple's career began with the "Baby Burlesques," a series of short films that she later described as a "cynical exploitation of our childish innocence." In these often sexually suggestive one-reelers, children mimicked adults, even dressing in adult costumes with diapers fastened by large safety pins. In one film, "War Babies" (1932), three-year-old Temple played a character named Charmaine, a role she would later reveal was that of a sex worker.
The exploitation didn't stop there. If any of the two dozen children misbehaved on set, they were locked in a windowless "punishment box" and made to sit on a block of ice. Temple herself was sent there several times. Despite this, she reflected, "As far as I can tell, the Black Box did no lasting damage to my psyche. Its lesson of life, however, was profound and unforgettable: time is money. Wasted time means wasted money means trouble."
The studio's "time is money" attitude led to more abuse. Temple was once forced to work the day after an ear operation and, on another occasion, made to dance on an injured foot. Her health was secondary to profits.
Despite these hardships, Temple's star rose quickly. From 1935 to 1938, she was the top box office draw globally, outshining even Clark Gable. However, her success didn't shield her from Hollywood's darker side.
At just 12 years old, Temple had a disturbing encounter with MGM producer Arthur Freed. During a private meeting, he exposed himself to her, saying, "I have something made just for you." This wasn't an isolated incident. At 17, producer David O. Selznick, of "Gone with the Wind" fame, attempted to assault her in his office, trapping her with a remote door lock.
Throughout her brief film career, Temple was regularly groped, threatened, and terrorized by men. One producer told her, "Sex is like a glass of water. You get thirsty, you drink. You want sex, you have it." Temple stood her ground, replying, "It may be in your contract, but not mine." Another harrowing incident involved comedian George Jessel, who groped her in his office. Temple defended herself, writing, "I could feel his other hand groping to lift my shirt... Little could I do but thrust my right knee upward into his groin."
Adding insult to injury, Temple discovered as an adult that despite earning $3.2 million (a staggering sum for the time), she had only $44,000 in her bank accounts. Her father had failed to place her earnings in a court-ordered trust fund. Yet, in her autobiography, the ever-forgiving Temple wrote, "For reasons some may find inexplicable, I felt neither disappointment nor anger."
Even the press wasn't kind. British writer Graham Greene penned shockingly inappropriate comments about the young star. Reviewing her film "Captain January" (1936) when Temple was no more than eight, he wrote about her "well-developed rump" twisting in a tap dance. Temple and 20th Century Fox successfully sued Greene for libel.
Her personal life wasn't spared either. At 17, she married John Agar, an actor who turned out to be an abusive alcoholic. He frequently beat and cheated on her before she filed for divorce in 1949 citing mental cruelty. Later, he even tried to derail her diplomatic career by calling her "emotionally unstable" during an FBI background check.
Rumors also plagued Temple. Some claimed she was actually a dwarf, not a child, a rumor so prevalent that the Vatican sent a priest to investigate. Others said her teeth were filed to look like baby teeth (in reality, she wore dental plates on camera to hide gaps). Fans would even yank her famous curls to see if she wore a wig.
One of the most bizarre incidents occurred in 1939 when a woman tried to shoot Temple during a live radio performance of "Silent Night," believing the child star had stolen her daughter's soul.
Despite these harrowing experiences, Temple emerged resilient. She retired from films at 22, married Charles Alden Black in 1950 (a marriage that lasted until his death in 2005), and embarked on a successful career in business and diplomacy. She sat on the boards of corporations like Walt Disney and organizations like the National Wildlife Federation. Her honors and awards are testament to her drive and resilience.
In a touching display of her strength, Temple even helped her daughter, Lori Black (a member of the grunge band The Melvins), overcome a heroin addiction in the 1990s. Despite their previously difficult relationship, Temple rallied the entire family to participate in drug therapy sessions for moral support.
Shirley Temple's story is a stark reminder of Hollywood's dark underbelly. Yet, it's also a powerful testament to her incredible resilience. In her own words, she emerged from this series of traumatic events "unscathed." From child star to diplomat, from abuse survivor to loving mother, Temple's life shows that even in the face of unimaginable adversity, it's possible to not just survive, but thrive.
Note: This article is based on Shirley Temple's autobiography and various historical accounts.
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