In the early months of 1950, Ingrid Bergman, a renowned movie star widely recognized for her roles in “Casablanca” and “The Bells of St. Mary’s,” found herself entangled in a scandal that shook the entertainment world.
Following her decision to leave her husband, engage in a relationship with Italian filmmaker Roberto Rossellini, and give birth to a child out of wedlock, she faced severe public condemnation and backlash.
Not only were her new films boycotted throughout the United States, but she was also barred from appearing on “The Ed Sullivan Show” and publicly criticized by members of the U.S. Congress.
While the external repercussions of Bergman’s actions were well-documented, the extent of the hate and vitriol she encountered in private largely remained concealed for over 70 years.
Recently, a collection of 47 telegrams sent to Bergman during the initial months of 1950 has come to light, revealing the intense animosity and scorn directed at her by former admirers who felt betrayed by her tarnished image.
The messages conveyed sentiments of betrayal, labeling her as immoral, un-American, and unworthy of admiration, with many asserting that she was no longer welcome in the U.S. or her home country.
Throughout the course of 1950, Bergman received a barrage of letters and telegrams that vilified her for deviating from the virtuous persona they had associated with her on-screen characters, such as Joan of Arc or a nun.
Accusations of being a disgrace to womanhood, abandoning her family, and engaging in morally reprehensible behavior were prevalent in the hate mail she received.
Some individuals even went so far as to wish harm upon her, suggesting she should take her own life to spare others from her perceived immorality.
Despite facing this relentless onslaught of criticism and abuse, Bergman maintained a stoic silence and exhibited little remorse for her decisions during that tumultuous period.
Describing the experience as excruciatingly painful, she chose to endure the vitriol in private, shielding herself from the prying eyes of the public while grappling with the fallout of her personal choices.
Amidst the deluge of hate mail, Bergman shared some of the distressing telegrams with writer Art Buchwald, who later documented the overwhelming negativity and hostility she faced in an article for Look Magazine.
The publication shed light on the myriad reactions Bergman elicited from fans and detractors alike, ranging from death threats and prayers for redemption to scathing condemnations and expressions of disgust.
One striking aspect of the hate mail was the profound sense of betrayal felt by many fans who had idolized Bergman for her portrayals of saintly and virtuous characters on screen.
The scandal shattered the illusion of her perfection in the eyes of the public, leading to feelings of anger, disappointment, and disillusionment among those who had placed her on a pedestal of moral rectitude.
Despite the backlash and ostracism she endured, Bergman remained resolute in her choices and steadfast in her refusal to conform to societal expectations of female propriety and submission.
Her willingness to defy conventional norms and embrace her personal desires, even at the cost of public censure, set her apart as a trailblazer in an era marked by rigid gender roles and moral conservatism.
Looking back on the events of 1950, it becomes evident that Bergman’s legacy transcends the confines of traditional Hollywood stardom, embodying resilience, defiance, and an unwavering commitment to authenticity in the face of adversity.
As her story resurfaces decades later, it serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring power of self-expression and the enduring impact of societal expectations on individual freedom and agency.
