Rita Moreno: A Memoir
Written and Narrated By: Rita Moreno
Length: 9 hrs and 25 mins
A hit with a few misses
NATurally, I looked at the frowning reviews before contemplating m’ own cuz ya never know what you’re gonna find. This time? Oh goodness, a reviewer commented that Ms. Moreno’s account of her childhood in Puerto Rico, the fleeing of her Mom and her to the Bronx, is really quite fanciful. And he gave an account of what reeeeeally happened.
Let’s start with the Memoir’s version… Rita (Born Rosita) lived an idyllic life in Puerto Rico where all was color and fun and love. Then, her mother snagged her and the two left for the Bronx when Rosita was five years old, leaving her philandering father and her much-loved little brother behind. All was gray in New York, all was cold, and aside from her mother’s second husband, there wasn’t much love to go around. And then her Mom left the second husband and shacked up with a third, whose last name Rosita took, even tho’ she loathed the man.
The reviewer, however, posited that it was Rosita’s mother who cheated whilst Dad was out of town, and it was the revelation of her infidelity that drove her from the island, and who would leave their son behind? DAStardly, the man says.
Okay, but memories are malleable things, and it’s quite likely that a five year old will remember what she’s told, and she’s probably not going to be questioning toooo closely what a much-adored Mama tells her. Tho’ she does miss her brother terribly, she never really asks her mother about it, and yeh, I guess I can see how this SHOULD color a person’s adoration of a person. But even as Rita, looooong past being Rosita, she never goes there. What Mamí says is what really happened. This is further amplified when her down-and-out biological father turns up backstage for a reunion, and Rita is disgusted and never gets in touch with him again. So obviously, she bought the philandering father story, and she thinks of this and the fact that he never tried to get in touch with her throughout her childhood. It should be noted, however, that Rita feels much shame and regret when she thinks of this encounter, as her view of life and all its intricacies has made her more aware of human frailties.
All right, that was addressed, and I HAD to address it cuz it was a trifle jaw-dropping. On to the rest. Almost immediately, young Rosita gets dance lessons, learns to sing her heart out, all as a way of escaping to a bit of a dream world to get away from the reality of cold and concrete. Her mother is the ultimate Show Biz Mother, and while Rosita never feels pushed, she was most certainly encouraged to try for it all, even going to auditions by herself, even getting raped by an unscrupulous Show Biz man. This? She repressed it like crazy, and she goes so far as to think her virginity was lost muuuuuch later.
Ms. Moreno is quiiiiite open about her entire journey, and so I s’pose it’s to be expected that some of this memoir drags as she goes from cheesy B-flick, to cheesy B-flick, playing all the ethnic characters that Hollywood requires. Even when she starts making it big, Moreno goes on and on about how uncomfortable it is to wear buckskin dresses as she’s cast for danged near every Indian Princess (Loooong. before the days of “Native American”) or Indian Captive in Western movies that were so popular at the time. Then we get lengthy narratives about how, as she grew older, she became less willing to be so type-cast, all culminating with her absoLUTE refusal to play an ethnic aging Madame when she was older, a job offering which left her devastated and humiliated.
Along the way, we’re given pretty much every relationship she had during those Hollywood years: Elvis Presley was an innocent who fumbled around in bed; Howard Hughes was just a plain ol’ Odd Duck; and of COURSE she goes into her on-again off-again dysFUNCtional relationship with Marlon Brando—a union that led to a suicide attempt which finally sealed the deal for her, and she left. But not before expounding on a botched illegal abortion which also almost killed her. It’s obvious that, tho’ she did marry her Second Great Love, Brando is THE Man she always wanted, having left his mark most indelibly on her.
I s’pose this unevenly crafted (It bounces between Hollywood jobs, and relationships, and personal growth) work is MOSTLY to be seen as her journey through Mental, Emotional, Spiritual growth as she tells us of what she learned about herself through each encounter and through the vagaries of Time. The most touching story was of her finally being able to love her husband through his final illness, giving back all the love and care he’d given to her (Sometimes in a MOST smothering fashion) with gentleness and gratitude. It was sooo sweet to hear that she got past the resentment and hostility that had been building within her, leading her to sometimes dislike/sometimes hate the man, and she was able to quite simply love him with all the tenderness in her.
Ms. Moreno, of COURSE, narrates all of this in such a stellar manner; it’d be beYONd odd if such a seasoned performer fumbled it. She has such a warm voice, and I adored her accent when she voiced her mother and the flawed manner in which the woman tossed her English around. HiLARious! But at no point does Ms. Moreno make fun or take cheap shots, even when she’s kinda sorta dissing on Elvis and his penchant for coming off as just the little brother type.
Though there was indeed some lagging in the storytelling, I still found this to be a satisfying Listen. And though there might be a few memories that she got “wrong”, that’s her prerogative as a normal living, breathing human being who’s just going along and seeing and experiencing Life from her own perspective. The parts of Brando were exquisitely done (And most interesting that the man suggested the means by which Moreno disentangled herself), and I found her marriage stories most gratifying (I’d seen a bit on her on “CBS Sunday Morning”, and this gave me the real scoop on what was going on in that GLORious home built on the hills)!
She’s rather an inspiration, doncha know, as the woman never gave up, as the woman is STILL kicking up her heels. And gorgeous tho’ she was as “The Spanish Elizabeth Taylor”, good golly gosh, I think she looks even better now when she SHOULD be considered to be in her later years. But which? Of COURSE she’s still rocking it, still moving, still creating.
May we all be so blessed to have passions in our lives!
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