INTRODUCTION

HER STORY

QUOTES

Her customary breakfast at the studio was a ham sandwich, a pickle and ice cream.

She claimed that during her entire career she had seen only one close-up of herself that she considered beautiful and even that was achieved by illusion. "In One-Way Passage cameraman Bob Kurle had taken so much pains, shifting the camera fifty different ways, experimenting with light and shadow until it was beautiful," she said. "When I saw that, I felt the one pand of pure pleasure I've ever experienced when I've looked at myself on the screen."

She was the favorite actress of caricaturist James Montgomery Flagg.

Years after she was washed up in Hollywood, she laughed about climbing into a taxi to be told by the driver that he hated her. "Nothing personal," he added. "But when I wanted to see Tom Mix, Ma'd drag me to see you 'n' George Brent."

As was the case for Paramount's other top female stars-- Marlene Dietrich, Carole Lombard, Miriam Hopkins and Claudette Colbert-- Kay had a figure that was perfectly in tune with the taste and line of the period, enabling Paramount's costume designer Travis Banton to concentrate on creating elegant clothes without having to bother about disguising serious defects.

Her pre-movie career included work as a real estate broker and public relations woman.

Claimed that her husband, Kenneth MacKenna, nagged and harassed her, ridiculed her choice of friends and style of dress, and cast aspersions on her acting ability.

Elsa Maxwell rated her among the best party-givers in Hollywood.  She once had the entrance to a restaurant converted into the prow of a ship, and arriving guests were obliged to slide down a gangplank into a ballroom decorated with nautical devices.

After a 1934 date with Maurice Chevalier she wrote in her diary, "Maurice for dinner. Swell evening. Very exciting, discussing about lesbians and a threesome. Not practical, I'm afraid."

On her attempt at being domestic during her first marriage (to James Dwight Francis), Kay said, "I hated every dust rag I owned and took a very hearty and very personal dislike to every egg I fried and every potato I boiled."

She formed a backgammon foursome with Jessica Barthelmess, Beatrice Stewart and Dorothy Di Frasso.

Kay had a tremendous influence on style trends. Women waited for the next Kay Francis vehicle before planning their season's wardrobe.

Many found her lisp-- she had difficulty pronouncing the letter r properly-- charming. However, because of this speech impediment, she was known around the Paramount lot as "the wavishing Kay Fwancis." Her speech defect would in time become celebrated (her scripts were typed with rolling r's).

It was rumored that while at Paramount, Kay had a brief affair with Marlene Dietrich and, possibly, one with Tallulah Bankhead.

Kay's mother was scarcely part of her daughter's life, and on the rare occasion when she came to visit, she was kept under wraps and never allowed to visit her daughter at the studio.

The bulk of her $1 million estate was left to The Seeing Eye foundation to train guide dogs for the blind. Her bequest was based on the simple reason that she considered loss of sight the worst of all possible fates to befall anyone. Her bequest accounts for 75% of the organization's annual costs.

Once, years after her heyday, Kay encountered her former Warner Bros. rival, Bette Davis. When Bette asked why Francis had tolerated such abuse from Jack L. Warner, Kay responded, "I didn't give a damn. I wanted the money." Davis commented, "I didn't. I wanted the career."

After a date with screenwriter/director Delmar Daves she is reported to have said, "Christ, he's a good lover... my God, all hell broke loose. He came in his trousers."

In 1936 she was the first actress to be named the best-dressed woman in America by New York's Fashion Academy.

Kay had no interest whatsoever in fan magazine publicity and posed for their cameras only under duress.  She was so uncooperative with the press at one point that a newspaper called her "cold as dry ice."

Her fourth film at Warner's One Way Passage was a huge box office success.  It's one of the great weepers of the thirties.

Diary entry after one of her many abortions: "Bed all day-- operation! Last of the Mohicans... I hope!"

"Old workhouse" is how she modestly described herself when a reporter suggested that she was a film clotheshorse in a league with Norma Shearer.

She hated going to the hairdresser; at one point she bought a wig, which she nicknamed "Miss Merkin" in honor of the pubic wigs used by prostitutes in medieval times.

She always remained vague about her birth, claiming she was born somewhere between 1899 and 1910. She allowed the studio to weave a fantasy biography. Her covertness may have been a result of her insecurity about her impoverished roots and her desire to squash the persistent rumor that she was half black.

A few outrageous incidents prompted the studio to hire people to keep her out of trouble. Warner's once paid $10,000 for a male escort to accompany her to London. One night in the hotel, he was awakened by loud banging at his bedroom door. When he opened it, there was Kay Francis, drunk, naked, and screaming: "I'm not a star. I'm a woman, and I want to get fucked." His handling of the crisis was deft-- he simply performed the task.

In 1966 she was diagnosed with breast cancer. A mastectomy was performed, but the cancer had spread.

Diary entry after her 1927 engagement to wealthy playboy Alan Ryan Jr: "Slept with him to sort of consecrate our engagement. He can be taught a few things!"

Her burial instructions reflected her longstanding desire for privacy. There would be no funeral or memorial service. All she wanted was for her body to be cremated and the ashes to be disposed of by the undertaker so that "no sign of my existence be left on this earth."

At 5'7" she was Hollywood's tallest leading lady in the thirties.  She had tiny feet though and wore size two shoes.

She kept her second marriage, to Bill Gaston, a secret and would not divulge it until 1934, when she filed for divorce from her fourth husband.

Responding to the box-office success of House on 56th Street, she said, "If it does better than my other films, it's because I parade thirty-six costumes instead of sixteen."

It was Clara Bow who suggested Kay shorten her name from Katharine so it would fit snugly on the marquee.