One of the biggest myths about Hjördis is that she was a failed actress, and that her subsequent frustration lead to decades of alcohol-fuelled jealousy aimed at David Niven, a husband who had done nothing but protect her from her lack of ability.
“She was fantastically beautiful but utterly devoid of talent, so never became the actress she wanted to be.” That was how journalist Ann Leslie came to understand the situation, after years of interviews with David. It would probably be more accurate to say that no-one knew how much latent talent Hjördis possessed, and that part of the resulting frustration was due to having never been allowed to find out.
The myth was set in stone by David’s biographer Graham Lord, who theorised that David forbade Hjördis from accepting movie offers out of the goodness of his heart: “Maybe he already knew that she was a terrible actress and was trying to save her from embarrassment and failure.” Wrong.
David had never seen Hjördis act. In Graham Lord’s defence, he was probably unaware that before their wedding day David had already forbidden Hjördis from having any sort of career – a stricture that she acquiesced to – or that she had already fallen into the same trap three years before.
A dedicated wife
Film work first opened up for Hjördis in 1943, very slightly, when she made two uncredited appearances in Swedish movies. In February she played a decorative minor role as a dancer in ‘Fångad av en röst’ (‘Captured by a Voice’), and in June / July as a woman playing roulette in ‘Sjätte skottet’ (‘The Sixth Shot’).
Although larger roles did not follow, they may not have been chased. In mid 1943, Hjördis’ modelling career was still hitting new heights.
By 1945 Hjördis was at the top of her profession, engaged to one of Sweden’s most wealthy men, and part of a celebrity couple who were frequently gushed over in the press.
“Miss Hjördis Genberg, one of Stockholm’s most famous fashion models,” one newspaper enthused in January 1945, “has become engaged to Lieutenant Carl Gustaf Tersmeden. Lieutenant Tersmeden is a well-known sailor and owner of the large yacht Symfoni.”
The ‘Symfoni’ had originally been built for the Crown Prince of Sweden in 1937, which illustrates the depth of Carl’s pockets.
“With me, when things are going well, they go very well,” Hjördis later wrote, “and when they’re bad, it’s one disaster after another. Now I found myself in a peak period of my life, but I was still completely stunned when Mrs Pauline Brunius, then head of the Royal Dramatic Theater, called me and asked for a meeting. When I went to her, she asked if I had ever thought of becoming an actress. She and some of the other members of the board had noticed me, and found both my type and appearance unusually suitable for the profession.”
“In a few months, the entrance examinations for the student school would be taking place and they thought they would give me a chance. Of course, I was overwhelmed by this, and said that I would like nothing better, however I totally lacked the financial means to afford such training – if I were to pass the entrance examination.” (Odd thing for the fiancee of one of Sweden’s richest men to say, so you’d think…)
“Then she told me that they had already discussed the matter and that, first of all, one of the members of the board was willing to help me financially during my study time, and secondly they were willing to make an exception in my case. I would be given small roles as soon as I was ready. She even had a manuscript for me, and had seen a teacher who would help me study for the role. As I said, I was completely overwhelmed. I did not know how to answer but asked for a short reflection time. One thing I knew, at least, this was the biggest compliment I ever had in my life!”
“This was a really big decision for me. There was only one thing I could do, and that was to discuss the matter with Tersan. He understood my views, understood how excited and grateful I was over the offer, and understood that in every person, even a young girl who is a leading model and engaged to an appropriate young man, whom she also loves, there is a desire to do something with her life. I mean something big and demanding, something that of course can fail, but that can also lead to success and a career. All of this he understood.”
“But there was also something he wanted me to understand. That we loved each other, and were engaged to be married. He did not want a wife who spent most of her life on her career, he wanted a wife dedicated to him.” [Oh-oh. BIG mistake there CG…]
Leaving the country
In 1955, Hollywood gossip columnist Louella Parsons reported that Hjördis had studied dramatics, but never put her training to use. This suggests that Hjördis may have taken her first steps towards an acting career before Carl Gustaf brought it to a halt.
As for her never putting her training to use – maybe not fully, but two more Swedish movie bit-parts arrived in 1945, by coincidence or not. On 17th May, eight days after The Second World War ended in Europe, filming commenced on ’13 Stolar’ (’13 Chairs’) in which Hjördis played, suitably, a model.
She also modelled clothes for a short film, shot in August and premiered in October, called ‘Tidningar! Tidningar!'(‘Newspapers! Newspapers!’) which was made to celebrate 300 years of the Swedish press.
A final (uncredited) movie appearance followed in September, with Hjördis playing an officer’s wife in ‘Brita i grosshandlarhuset’ (‘Brita in the Merchant’s House’ or ‘The Maid’). Filming was completed on 28th November, but Hjördis was not in Sweden for the premiere in February 1946.
In the first week of November she applied for a visa to travel to the US, and booked to sail in December.
“And so it was. I refrained from a – possible – career as an actress and we started making plans for the future. It was decided that Carl Gustaf would travel to South America and that I would come over later and meet him in the US. He left, and two months later, for the first time in my life I left the country of my birth.”