Rita Hayworth: The Life Story Behind Hollywood's Love Goddess
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Rita Hayworth was called the Love Goddess, and the name followed her everywhere, in magazines, in newspapers, in the minds of millions of men who had seen her dance in Gilda, and who could not forget her. She was beautiful, she was graceful, and she could dance like no one else, but behind the beauty there was a shy, quiet woman who wanted to be loved for herself, not for her face, and who never quite found the love she was looking for. She was married five times, she had two daughters, and she died in 1987, at the age of sixty-eight, of Alzheimer’s disease, a disease that took her memory, her words, and her life, slowly, over many years.
She was born Margarita Cansino, in Brooklyn, in 1918, to a Spanish dancer father and an Irish mother, and she grew up dancing, in her father’s act, in nightclubs, in Mexico, and in Hollywood, where she became a star in Cover Girl, and then in Gilda, a film that made her the most famous woman in the world. She played in The Lady from Shanghai, a film directed by her husband Orson Welles, and she played in many other films, but Gilda was the film that defined her, and the film that she could never escape.
The story of her life is a story of beauty, and of the price of beauty. She was loved by millions, and she was lonely, she was famous, and she was sad, she was a goddess on screen, and a shy girl off screen, and the gap between those two women was the tragedy of her life. Her daughter Yasmin later worked to raise awareness of Alzheimer’s disease, so that other families would not have to go through what her family went through, and that work is a part of Rita’s legacy, a legacy that goes beyond films, beyond fame, beyond beauty.
A Dancer’s Daughter in Brooklyn
Margarita Carmen Cansino was born on 17 October 1918 in Brooklyn, New York City. Her father, Eduardo Cansino, was a Spanish dancer from Seville, and her mother, Volga Haworth, was an Irish-American woman who had been a chorus girl, and the girl grew up in a house where dancing was not a hobby, but a way of life, a way to earn money, and a way to survive. Her father taught her to dance when she was still a small child, and she danced in his act, in nightclubs, in theatres, and in Mexico, where the family travelled for work, and where she learned to dance flamenco, to move with grace, and to make an audience watch her.
As a girl, she was shy, and she was quiet, and she did not like to be the centre of attention, but on stage, when she danced, she became someone else, someone who was confident, who was beautiful, and who could make a room fall silent. She went to school when she could, but her schooling was broken up by travel, and by work, and she did not have the chance to show how clever she was in school, because she was always dancing, always working, always thinking about the next performance. She learned to read, she learned to write, and she learned to dance, and dancing became her way out, her way to a better life.
She was a young woman with no money, no family to help her, and no education to fall back on, but she had a talent, and she had a beauty, and she had a belief that she could make a better life for herself, if she worked hard enough. That belief stayed with her for the rest of her life, through Hollywood, through five marriages, through motherhood, and through illness, and it is the reason that her story is still told today.
She came to Hollywood as a teenager, and she began to work in small parts, in films that were made quickly and cheaply, for audiences who wanted a good story and a pretty girl. She changed her name to Rita Hayworth, taking Rita from a name she liked, and Hayworth from her mother’s family, and she began the long work of becoming an actress. She was not a star, but she was a working actress, and she was in demand, because she was beautiful, because she could dance, and because she worked hard.
Hollywood, Cover Girl, and the Making of a Star
Hayworth worked in Hollywood for many years, appearing in small films, and learning how to act for the camera, which was different from acting for the stage, because the camera was close, and it could see everything, every small movement, every small change in the face. She learned to be still, to be quiet, to let the camera come to her, and that stillness became one of her greatest tools. She played in many films, in Only Angels Have Wings, in The Strawberry Blonde, in Blood and Sand, and in each of them she brought the same grace, the same beauty, and the same belief that a woman should be free to live her own life.
In 1944, she played in Cover Girl, a musical film in which she played Rusty Parker, a dancer who becomes a cover girl for a magazine, and who has to choose between love and fame. The film was a great success, and it made Hayworth a star, and it showed that she could sing, she could dance, and she could act, all at the same time, and that she was more than a pretty face. She was a talented woman, a woman who had worked hard, and who had earned her fame, film by film, year by year.
She played in many other films in the 1940s, in Tonight and Every Night, in which she played a dancer in London during the war, and in many other films that showed her range, her talent, and her willingness to work hard. She was one of the most popular actresses in Hollywood, and she was known for her beauty, her grace, and her professionalism. She arrived on set on time, she knew her lines, she did her work, and she expected others to do the same. Directors loved her, because she made their jobs easier, and actors loved her, because she made them better.
She was married, in those years, to Edward Judson, a businessman, and then to Orson Welles, a famous director and actor, and each marriage ended in divorce, because Hayworth was a woman who wanted to be loved for herself, and who found it hard to live with men who loved her fame more than they loved her. She had a daughter, Rebecca, with Welles, and she tried to be a good mother, even when her work took her away from home.
Only Angels, Blood and Sand, and Dancing With Fred Astaire
In 1939, Hayworth played Judy MacPherson in Only Angels Have Wings, a film directed by Howard Hawks about mail pilots who fly dangerous routes over the mountains of South America. Judy is a young American woman who arrives in the pilots’ town and falls in love with a brave pilot played by Cary Grant, and Hayworth played her as hopeful, warm, and a little afraid, a young woman learning what love costs in a world where men risk their lives every day. She was twenty-one years old, and she held her own beside Grant and Jean Arthur, and the film made people in Hollywood begin to notice her as more than a dancer.
Two years later, in 1941, she played Dona Sol in Blood and Sand, a film about a Spanish bullfighter, played by Tyrone Power, who leaves his wife for a beautiful and dangerous woman. Dona Sol is that woman, and Hayworth played her with a fire that made audiences gasp, because she is not kind, and she is not sorry, and she destroys the man who loves her without ever pretending to love him back. The film was a success, and it showed that Hayworth could play a villain, a woman who is beautiful and cruel, and still make the audience watch her every moment she was on the screen.
In the same year, she played Virginia Brush in The Strawberry Blonde, a film set in New York in the 1890s, in which she played a beautiful young woman who marries a rich man for his money and learns that money is not enough. The film starred James Cagney, and Hayworth matched him, scene after scene, with a lightness and a charm that showed how fast she was learning. She was twenty-three, and she was no longer a small-part actress, but a woman who could stand beside the biggest stars in Hollywood and make the film better.
In 1942, she danced with Fred Astaire in You Were Never Lovelier, a musical film in which she played Maria Acuna, a young woman in Buenos Aires whose father tries to find her a husband. Astaire was the greatest dancer in film, and he did not praise other dancers lightly, yet he praised Hayworth, because she had learned to dance as a child in her father’s act, and she made the hard steps look easy and joyful. The film proved what Cover Girl would prove again two years later, that Hayworth was not only a beautiful face, but a real dancer, and that dancing was the gift that had carried her from a Brooklyn childhood to the top of Hollywood.
Gilda and the Love Goddess
In 1946, Hayworth played the part that made her the most famous woman in the world, Gilda, in a film noir directed by Charles Vidor. Gilda was a woman who is beautiful, who is dangerous, who dances, who sings, and who loves a man who does not trust her, played by Glenn Ford. Hayworth played her with a fire, a humour, and an honesty that audiences had never seen before, and the film became one of the most famous ever made. The scene in which she sings Put the Blame on Mame, in a black dress, taking off her gloves, one by one, is still one of the most famous scenes in the history of film, and it made Hayworth known all over the world as the Love Goddess.
The film was a great success, and it made Hayworth a star, but it also made her a prisoner, because audiences wanted to see Gilda again and again, and they did not want to see anyone else. She was Gilda, in their minds, and she could not escape that, no matter how hard she tried. She played in other films, she played other women, but Gilda was always there, in the background, in the minds of audiences, in the magazines, in the posters, and she could not get away from her.
She did not like being called the Love Goddess, because she felt that it was not who she was. She was a shy, quiet woman, who wanted to be loved for herself, not for her face, not for her body, not for a film. She once said, in a famous remark, that men went to bed with Gilda and woke up with her, meaning that they fell in love with the character, not with the woman, and that they were disappointed when they found that she was not Gilda, but Rita, a shy girl from Brooklyn who loved to dance. That remark tells us a great deal about her life, and about the price of fame.
After Gilda, she played in The Lady from Shanghai in 1947, a film directed by her husband Orson Welles, in which she played Elsa Bannister, a woman who is beautiful, who is dangerous, and who is involved in a murder. Welles cut her long red hair short and dyed it blonde for the film, and audiences were shocked, because they loved her red hair, and they did not want to see her change. The film was not a great success at the time, but it is now seen as a classic, and Hayworth’s performance in it is one of the most interesting things she ever did on screen.
Five Marriages and the Search for Love
Hayworth was married five times, to Edward Judson, to Orson Welles, to Prince Aly Khan, to Dick Haymes, a singer, and to James Hill, a film producer. Each marriage ended in divorce, and each one left her a little more tired, a little more sad, and a little more alone. She married Prince Aly Khan, a wealthy man from a royal family, in 1949, and she became a princess, and she lived in a grand house, and she had a daughter, Yasmin, and for a time, she was happy, but the marriage ended, as the others had, because she wanted to be loved for herself, and because she found it hard to live with men who loved her fame.
She tried to be a good mother, to Rebecca and to Yasmin, and she loved them, and she worked hard to give them a better life than the one she had known as a girl in Brooklyn. She was a private woman, and she did not talk much about her personal life in public, but those who knew her spoke of her warmth, her humour, and her kindness, and of the way she treated her children with love, and with care. She was a woman who wanted a home, a family, and a quiet life, but fame made that hard, because fame follows you everywhere, and it does not let you be quiet.
She kept working, in films, on television, and on stage, and she played in many films in the 1950s, in Salome, in Miss Sadie Thompson, in Pal Joey, and in each of them she brought the same grace, the same beauty, and the same belief that a woman should be free to live her own life. She was one of the most famous actresses in the world, and she was known for her hard work, her discipline, and her professionalism, but she was also known for her sadness, for the way she seemed lonely, even when she was surrounded by people.
She was a woman who had everything, fame, beauty, money, and yet she was not happy, because she had not found the love she was looking for, and because she felt that people loved Gilda, not Rita. That is a sad thing, and it is a sad thing that happens to many famous people, who are loved for what they do, not for who they are, and who spend their lives looking for someone who will love them for themselves.
Alzheimer’s and a Daughter’s Fight
In the 1970s, Hayworth began to have trouble remembering things, trouble with her words, trouble with her work, and people thought that she was drinking too much, or that she was tired, or that she was difficult, but the truth was that she had Alzheimer’s disease, a disease that slowly takes a person’s memory, their words, and their life. In those days, few people knew about Alzheimer’s, and there was no treatment, and no cure, and Hayworth suffered, quietly, for many years, without knowing what was wrong with her, and without getting the help she needed.
Her daughter Yasmin Aga Khan, who had been born to Prince Aly Khan, took care of her mother in her later years, and she saw, first hand, what Alzheimer’s does to a person, and to a family. After her mother died, Yasmin worked to raise awareness of the disease, to raise money for research, and to help other families who were going through the same thing. That work is a part of Rita’s legacy, a legacy that goes beyond films, beyond fame, beyond beauty, and into the lives of ordinary people who are suffering, and who need help.
Hayworth died on 14 May 1987, in New York City, of Alzheimer’s disease, at the age of sixty-eight. She had been ill for many years, and her health had failed, but she had kept living, and she had kept being loved by her daughters, until the end. Her death was mourned by actors and directors all over the world, and tributes came from people who had worked with her in every decade of her career. She had played in some of the most famous films ever made, and she was remembered as one of the most beautiful actresses in the history of Hollywood, and as a woman who had suffered, and who had been loved, and who had given the world a great deal of beauty.
She also played in Only Angels Have Wings in 1939, a film directed by Howard Hawks, in which she played Judy MacPherson, a young woman who falls in love with a pilot, played by Cary Grant, in South America. The film was a success, and Hayworth’s performance was praised, because she played Judy as a woman who is young, who is hopeful, and who is learning about love, and about loss, and the audience could see, in her face, the joy and the pain of that learning. She was twenty-one years old, and she was beginning to be noticed, film by film, year by year.
She played in The Strawberry Blonde in 1941, a film set in the 1890s, in which she played Virginia Brush, a woman who is beautiful, who is charming, and who marries a man for his money, only to learn that money is not enough. The film starred James Cagney, and Hayworth held her own, and she made the film better, because she brought to it a life, a fire, and an honesty that the other actors did not have. She was twenty-three years old, and she was learning fast, and she was beginning to understand that acting was not only about beauty, but about truth.
She played in Blood and Sand in 1941, a film about a bullfighter in Spain, in which she played Dona Sol, a woman who is beautiful, who is dangerous, and who destroys the man who loves her. The film starred Tyrone Power, and Hayworth played Dona Sol with a fire that made audiences gasp, and with a beauty that made them watch her, and the film was a success, and it showed that she could play a villain, a woman who is not sweet, who is not kind, and who is real.
She played in You Were Never Lovelier in 1942, a musical film in which she danced with Fred Astaire, one of the greatest dancers in the history of film, and she held her own, and she danced with grace, with joy, and with a skill that Astaire himself praised. The film was a success, and it showed that Hayworth was not only an actress, but a dancer, a woman who had learned to dance as a child, in her father’s act, and who could dance with the best, and make it look easy.
She played in Salome in 1953, a film about the famous dancer who dances for King Herod, and who asks for the head of John the Baptist. Hayworth played Salome as a woman who is beautiful, who is proud, and who is destroyed by her own desires, and her performance was praised, and the film was a success, and it showed that she could play a historical figure, a woman who was real, and who was part of a famous story, with the same honesty that she brought to her other films.
She played in Miss Sadie Thompson in 1953, a film based on a story by W. Somerset Maugham, in which she played Sadie, a woman of loose morals who is judged by a missionary, and who fights back, with humour, with fire, and with an honesty that made audiences love her. The film was a success, and Hayworth’s performance was praised, and it showed that she could play a woman who is not sweet, who is not easy to love, and who is real.
She played in Pal Joey in 1957, a musical film in which she played Vera Simpson, a wealthy widow who falls in love with a singer, played by Frank Sinatra, and who is funny, tough, and kind, all at the same time. The film was a success, and Hayworth’s performance was praised, because she played Vera as a woman who is old, who is tired, and who is still looking for love, and the audience could see, in her face, the hope and the fear of that looking.
She also played in Separate Tables in 1958, a film about a group of people who live in a hotel in England, and whose lives cross for a few days. Hayworth played Ann Shankland, a woman who is beautiful, who is sad, and who is trying to find her way back to the man she loves, and her performance was praised for its warmth, its tenderness, and its honesty, and it showed that she could play a woman who is quiet, who is sad, and who is strong, all at the same time.
My Take:
When I think about Rita Hayworth, I think about a shy girl from Brooklyn who learned to dance in her father’s act, and who became the most famous woman in the world, and who never quite found the love she was looking for. That is the part of her story that stays with me, because it is the most human part. She was not born into fame. She was born into a dancing family, into a life of travel, of work, of nightclubs, and she had to earn every step she took. The dance halls, the Hollywood film set, the stage, each one was a step that she took herself, and I admire that kind of hard work in a girl who had every reason to give up.
I think about Gilda, and about the scene in which she sings Put the Blame on Mame, taking off her gloves, one by one, in a black dress, with a smile that is both inviting and dangerous. That scene is still famous today, eighty years later, because it is a scene about a woman who is in control, who knows what she is doing, and who is not afraid to be seen. Hayworth plays it with a confidence that is hard to watch, because it feels so true, so alive, so full of fire. That is great acting, and it is acting that deserves to be remembered, not only for the beauty, but for the talent behind it.
What makes me sad about her story is the remark she once made, that men went to bed with Gilda and woke up with her. That remark tells us everything about her life, about the gap between the woman on screen and the woman off screen, and about how lonely it must have been to be loved for a character, not for yourself. She was a shy, quiet woman, who wanted to be loved for herself, for Rita, not for Gilda, and she spent her life looking for that love, in five marriages, in her children, in her work, and she never quite found it. That is a sad thing, and it is a sad thing that happens to many famous people, who are loved for what they do, not for who they are.
I also think about her father, Eduardo, and about what it must have been like to grow up dancing in his act, to be taught by him, to be pushed by him, to be a child performer in a world of adults. Some people have said that her childhood was hard, and that her father was strict, and I do not know what the truth is, because I was not there, but I do know that she learned to dance, and that dancing became her way out, her way to a better life, and that is a remarkable thing, to turn a hard childhood into art, into beauty, into a career that is still remembered today.
The marriage to Orson Welles matters to me, because it was a marriage of two talented people, a director and an actress, who loved each other, who worked together, and who made a film together, The Lady from Shanghai, that is now seen as a classic. Welles cut her hair short and dyed it blonde for the film, and audiences were shocked, because they loved her red hair, and they did not want to see her change. That tells me something about fame, that audiences love a star for what they are, and they do not want them to change, even when the star wants to change, even when the star wants to grow. Hayworth wanted to grow, and the world would not let her, and that is a sad thing.
I think about Alzheimer’s disease, and about how it slowly took her memory, her words, and her life, over many years, without anyone knowing what was wrong with her. In those days, people thought she was drinking too much, or that she was tired, or that she was difficult, but the truth was that she was ill, and she needed help, and she did not get it, because no one understood the disease. That is a sad thing, and it is a thing that makes me grateful for the work her daughter Yasmin has done, to raise awareness, to raise money, and to help other families. That work is a legacy, a legacy that goes beyond films, and into real lives, and I admire it.
If I have a criticism, it is not really a criticism of Hayworth herself. It is a sadness that the film world did not give her more leading roles that were worthy of her talent, and that she was so often cast as the beautiful woman, the dancer, the love goddess, the woman who is looked at, not listened to. She could have played many other kinds of women, and I think she would have been wonderful in them, but the industry saw her beauty, and put her in a box. She made the box work for her, and she turned it into a long career, but I still wonder what she might have done if she had been given a wider range of parts. That is a question I cannot answer, and it is a question that makes me a little sad.
For a young reader, I think the lesson of Hayworth’s life is about beauty, and about the price of beauty. She was beautiful, and she was loved for her beauty, but beauty is not enough, and it does not make a person happy, and it does not make a person loved for themselves. What matters is who you are, not what you look like, and Hayworth’s life shows us that, in a sad and beautiful way. She was a talented dancer, a talented actress, a kind mother, and a shy girl, and those things matter more than beauty, and they are the things we should remember.
I also think about her death, in New York, at sixty-eight, of Alzheimer’s disease, after a long and slow illness. She had worked hard, she had loved, she had lost, and she had given the world a great deal of beauty, and then she died, quietly, with her daughters around her. That is a sad ending, but it is also a dignified ending, a ending that shows that she was a woman who lived on her own terms, and who died on her own terms, and that is a good way to live, and a good way to die.
In the end, I think Rita Hayworth teaches us that fame is not love, and that beauty is not happiness, and that what we really need, all of us, is to be loved for who we are, not for what we look like, not for what we do, but for ourselves. She spent her life looking for that love, and she never quite found it, but her daughters loved her, and her audiences loved her, and her films are still loved today, and that is something, even if it is not everything. I am glad that she lived to be sixty-eight, I am glad that she worked for so long, and I am glad that we still have her films to watch, because in those films, she is still alive, still dancing, still singing, and still showing us what a great actress can do.
One more thought stays with me, and it is about the girl in Brooklyn who learned to dance in her father’s act. That girl could not have known that she would one day be called the Love Goddess, or that she would play Gilda, or that she would be married five times, or that she would die of Alzheimer’s disease at sixty-eight. She only knew that she liked to dance, and that she was willing to work hard to learn how. She followed that feeling, step by step, for more than sixty years, and it led her to a life that was rich, full, and full of work that mattered. If a young person reads this story and feels that they are beautiful, or that they are shy, or that they do not fit in, I hope they think of Rita Hayworth, and I hope they remember that beauty is not enough, and that what matters is who you are, not what you look like.
I also think about Fred Astaire, and about what it must have been like to dance with him, to be judged by him, and to be praised by him. Astaire was the greatest dancer in film, and he did not praise lightly, and he praised Hayworth, because she could dance, because she had learned as a child, in her father’s act, and because she made it look easy, even when it was hard. That is a remarkable thing, to dance with Astaire, and to hold your own, and Hayworth did it, and she did it well, and that is a part of her story that deserves to be remembered, not only for the beauty, but for the talent behind it.
There is another part of her story that I find moving, and it is the way she worked with Glenn Ford, in Gilda, and in other films, and how they became friends, and how they trusted each other, and how that trust made their films better. Ford was a quiet actor, and Hayworth was a shy actress, and together they made a film that is still famous today, because they understood each other, and because they gave each other room to work, to be funny, to be sad, and to be real. That is a generous way to work, and it is a way of working that I admire.
I think about her daughters again, Rebecca and Yasmin, and about what it must have been like to be the daughter of the Love Goddess, to grow up with a mother who was famous, who was beautiful, and who was sad, and to have to find your own way in the world. Rebecca grew up, and she lived her own life, and Yasmin grew up, and she became a woman who works to raise awareness of Alzheimer’s disease, and that work is a legacy, a legacy that goes beyond films, and into real lives, and I admire it, because it shows that a daughter can turn her mother’s pain into help for other people.
When I watch Cover Girl today, I see a film about a dancer who becomes a cover girl, and who has to choose between love and fame, and I think about Hayworth, and about how she played Rusty Parker as a woman who is young, who is hopeful, and who is learning about love, and about fame, and that is a story that is still true today, because young people still have to choose, still have to decide what matters, and still have to live with those choices.
I also think about the red hair, and about how audiences loved it, and how Orson Welles cut it short and dyed it blonde for The Lady from Shanghai, and how audiences were shocked, because they did not want her to change. That tells me something about fame, that audiences love a star for what they are, and they do not want them to change, even when the star wants to change, even when the star wants to grow. Hayworth wanted to grow, and the world would not let her, and that is a sad thing, and it is a thing that makes me think about how we treat famous people, and about how we should let them grow, let them change, and let them be themselves.
I think about Alzheimer’s disease again, and about how it slowly took her memory, her words, and her life, over many years, without anyone knowing what was wrong with her, and about how her daughter Yasmin took care of her, and saw what the disease does, and decided to do something about it. That is a brave choice, to turn pain into action, and to help other families, and I admire Yasmin for it, and I admire Rita for raising a daughter who would do that, because a mother who raises a kind daughter has done a good job, even when her own life was hard.
Finally, I want to remember her as a shy girl from Brooklyn who learned to dance, who became the Love Goddess, who was married five times, who had two daughters, and who died of Alzheimer’s disease at sixty-eight, after a long and full life, and who is still remembered today, as one of the most beautiful actresses in the history of Hollywood, and as a woman who was loved, and who was lonely, and who gave the world a great deal of beauty. She was a dancer, she was an actress, she was a mother, and she was herself, and those things matter more than beauty, and they are the things we should remember.
Frequently Asked Questions
Why was Rita Hayworth called the Love Goddess?
Rita Hayworth was called the Love Goddess after her performance as Gilda in 1946, in which she played a beautiful, dangerous woman who dances and sings in a famous scene. The name followed her for the rest of her life, though she did not like it, because she felt that people loved Gilda, the character, not Rita, the woman.
What is Rita Hayworth’s most famous film?
Her most famous film is Gilda from 1946, in which she played the title role opposite Glenn Ford. The film made her the most famous woman in the world, and the scene in which she sings Put the Blame on Mame is still one of the most famous scenes in the history of film.
How many times was Rita Hayworth married?
She was married five times, to Edward Judson, Orson Welles, Prince Aly Khan, Dick Haymes, and James Hill. She had two daughters, Rebecca with Welles, and Yasmin with Prince Aly Khan, and she tried to be a good mother even when her work took her away from home.
What did Rita Hayworth die of?
Rita Hayworth died on 14 May 1987 in New York City of Alzheimer’s disease, at the age of sixty-eight. She had suffered from the disease for many years, and her daughter Yasmin Aga Khan later worked to raise awareness and money for research into Alzheimer’s.
Was Rita Hayworth really a dancer?
Yes, she was trained as a dancer by her father, Eduardo Cansino, a Spanish dancer, and she danced in his act as a child, in nightclubs and theatres, before she became an actress in Hollywood. Her dancing skill was a large part of her fame, especially in films like Cover Girl and Gilda.
What was Rita Hayworth’s real name?
Her birth name was Margarita Carmen Cansino. She changed it to Rita Hayworth when she began acting in Hollywood, taking Rita from a name she liked and Hayworth from her mother’s family name.
