David Niven

The Aristocrat Who Arrived on a Cargo Ship

David Niven landed in California with no contract and no real contacts in the industry. He had served in the British Army, and his greatest asset was a natural elegance that contrasted with his lack of money. In 1934, he began working as an extra in low-budget productions because he needed to pay the rent on a shared room with Errol Flynn.

That was a time of survival and late-night partying on Sunset Boulevard. But his luck changed when Samuel Goldwyn noticed him during an ordinary shoot. The producer was looking for a leading man who could deliver lines with sarcasm without losing his composure. In 1935, he signed his first serious contract for one hundred dollars a week, which let him leave behind the filler roles.

The bet paid off quickly.

Niven specialized in characters who seemed to make no effort at anything. In 1939, he took part in Wuthering Heights and showed that his range could go beyond light drawing-room comedy. But World War II interrupted his rise when he decided to return to England and enlist in the London Rifle Brigade.

The Soldier Who Returned from the Trenches

He was one of the few leading actors who voluntarily left Hollywood to fight at the front. He took part in the Normandy landings and reached the rank of lieutenant colonel during the conflict. He rarely wanted to talk much about his medals in promotional interviews for his later films. For him, war was a serious matter that didn't fit with the studios' glitter-coated gloss.

In 1946, he resumed his career with A Matter of Life and Death under the direction of Powell and Pressburger. That fantasy film restored his status as an international star at a time when audiences were looking for stories of redemption. But the 1950s would be his true golden age, thanks to a character that seemed written for his very DNA.

In 1956, he played Phileas Fogg in Around the World in Eighty Days.

The production won the Oscar for Best Picture and made him the most recognizable face of British elegance in the world. Niven didn't need to shout or overact to dominate a scene. In 1958, he won the Academy Award for his role in Separate Tables with a total screen time of barely fifteen minutes. It was the shortest performance to win the Academy Award for Best Actor up to that date.

Physical Decline and Finding Refuge in Writing

During the 1960s, he accepted roles that played on his image as a sophisticated man of the world. In 1963, he brought Sir Charles Lytton to life in The Pink Panther and set the template for a white-collar thief that others would try to copy for decades. But his health started causing him problems long before the public noticed any sign of weakness.

No one suspected what was going on in his nerves.

In 1971, he published his memoir titled The Moon's a Balloon. The book sold more than five million copies and revealed a writer with a sharp sense of humor and brutal honesty about the failures of his private life. Niven found that telling stories on the page was as profitable as acting them out in front of a 35-millimeter camera.

In 1981, he was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. The decline was fast and cruel for a man who lived by his voice and his physical presence. During the filming of his last two movies in 1982 and 1983, his weakness was so obvious that the crew had to use editing tricks to keep him standing.

In 1982, impressionist Rich Little had to dub all of Niven's dialogue in Trail of the Pink Panther because the actor was unable to speak intelligibly.