Vera-Ellen, White Christmas, and the Lasting Power of the Public Gaze
There’s a scene in White Christmas in which Vera-Ellen, dressed in white and silver with sparkling red elbow-length gloves, rises from beneath the stage floor on a mechanized platform and compels audience attention so that every other dancer onstage is forgotten. That was the charismatic power of Vera-Ellen: her talent was so immense that it had the effect of visual magic. White Christmas, the perennially popular holiday film made in 1954, tells the story of a vaudeville buddy act (Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye) who cross paths with a sister act (Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen) and silliness ensues, followed by romance, misunderstandings, and happy resolution. Rosemary Clooney became iconic in the film because of her sultry singing voice, her impossibly red lipstick, and her figure-flattering gowns (the costume designer for the film was the great Edith Head). Vera-Ellen was compelling because of her captivating dancing — tap, jazz, ballroom, ballet — she could do it all in what seemed like fast motion. The other thing that made her memorable was, unfortunately, her extreme thinness.
Even after almost seventy years, people are still curious about Vera-Ellen, and a commonly Googled question is “Was Vera-Ellen anorexic in White Christmas?” It’s inevitable, perhaps, that when we spend two hours staring at someone’s physical self, we will make judgments or want information about the object of our gaze. So Vera Ellen, as a public figure who happened to be blonde, beautiful, and talented, was a subject of interest. At times in her life, starting with her dhilchood, she was considered too plump, even by her mother. Legend has it that her mother was quite controlling and made young Vera-Ellen go on stringent diets while she was still growing. When the young dancer grew up and took her talent to Broadway, she maintained a healthy weight, but when her skills took her to an MGM contract, she was reportedly told that she was too fat, and that her legs were too thick (she was not, and they were not, by anyone’s standards). The continual comments about her weight and her body made the young dancer extremely body conscious, and the more she appeared on film the more she became consumed (so various Hollywood friends suggested) by a desire to be thin, to feel light, to be acceptable.
Vera-Ellen may indeed have suffered from anorexia, but no one will ever know, because she was never treated for any sort of eating disorder. Seventy years later, people still want to know, still demand answers, still study her body carefully when she appears onscreen.
Vera-Ellen’s scrutiny by the public was suffered by other actors and actresses, of course, because they all wanted to be seen, to be onscreen, and only later did they potentially realize the downside of being looked at so closely. Her experience, in retrospect, seems to foreshadow the painful experiences of young people born into the age of social media. They, too, choose to put themselves onscreen — in selfies, posts, and Tik-Tok videos, in Instagram pictures and YouTube tutorials— and they, too, are at risk for the extreme vulnerability of being “out there” and subject to the public gaze. Public scrutiny can be both harsh and unrelenting, and social media has certainly exacerbated the issues already at root of problematic body images and, at worst, body dysmorphia, which affects up to ten million Americans, the majority of them teens.
It’s true that anyone can have poor self-image simply from looking in the mirror or seeing an unflattering photograph. But social media is next-level exposure, and all posters, not just teens, can surely report at least one negative interaction in which someone reacted to their image. Psychologists and sociologists must be very busy studying the effects of these social exposures, these structured selves, on identity and feelings of self-worth.
No one can escape public scrutiny at one point or another, but those who must face it on a daily basis can be overwhelmed by that attention.
Vera-Ellen died in 1981 at age sixty. Long after her death, people continue to scrutinize her image, to ask the inevitable questions about whether or weight was “normal.” Perhaps what is abnormal, though, is the eagerness with which we objectify others, especially those who are beautiful and talented. Perhaps we can fight against that behavior by considering our own assumptions and remembering that no matter what image we are studying, it represents a human being.
This year, when we watch White Christmas, we can appreciate Vera-Ellen as a talented, amazing dancer, a great comedian, and a memorable performer in a fun movie.