Ronald Colman

Birthday: February 9, 1891 in Richmond, Surrey, England, UK

Birth Name: Ronald Charles Colman

Height: 178 cm

British leading man of primarily American films, one of the great stars of the Golden Age. Raised in Ealing, the son of a successful silk merchant, he attended boarding school in Sussex, where he first discovered amateur theatre. He intended to attend Cambridge and become an engineer, but his father's death cost him the financial support necessary. He joined the London Scottish Regionals and at the outbreak of World War I was sent to France. Seriously wounded at the battle of Messines--he was gassed--he was invalided out of service scarcely two months after shipping out for France. Upon his recovery he tried to enter the consular service, but a chance encounter got him a small role in a London play. He dropped other plans and concentrated on the theatre, and was rewarded with a succession of increasingly prominent parts. He made extra money appearing in a few minor films, and in 1920 set out for New York in hopes of finding greater fortune there than in war-depressed England. After two years of impoverishment he was cast in a Broadway hit, "La Tendresse". Director Henry King spotted him in the show and cast him as Lillian Gish's leading man in Dans les laves du Vésuve (1923). His success in the film led to a contract with Samuel Goldwyn, and his career as a Hollywood leading man was underway. He became a vastly popular star of silent films, in romances as well as adventure films. The coming of sound made his extraordinarily beautiful speaking voice even more important to the film industry. He played sophisticated, thoughtful characters of integrity with enormous aplomb, and swashbuckled expertly when called to do so in films like Le prisonnier de Zenda (1937). A decade later he received an Academy Award for his splendid portrayal of a tormented actor in Othello (1947). Much of his later career was devoted to "The Halls of Ivy", a radio show that later was transferred to television The Halls of Ivy (1954). He continued to work until nearly the end of his life, which came in 1958 after a brief lung illness. He was survived by his second wife, actress Benita Hume, and their daughter Juliet Benita Colman. Show less «

I visited agents, knocked at producers' doors; no one was interested. I was just another stage actor...Show more »

I visited agents, knocked at producers' doors; no one was interested. I was just another stage actor on tour, on the outside of Hollywood looking in. I returned to New York depressed and disappointed. Show less «

Whenever I hear of young actors down and out and broke in New York (and what a cliché of show busin...Show more »

Whenever I hear of young actors down and out and broke in New York (and what a cliché of show business it is supposed to be!), I remember my own experiences in 1921 - and find it no laughing matter by any criterion. Show less «

They talk of the artist finding liberation in work, it is true. One can be someone else in another, ...Show more »

They talk of the artist finding liberation in work, it is true. One can be someone else in another, more dramatic, more beautiful world. Show less «

I persevered in those English films, and persevered is the word, though I am the first to admit that...Show more »

I persevered in those English films, and persevered is the word, though I am the first to admit that I was a very bad actor in them. Show less «

It's twenty-two years since I made The White Sister and that's a long time. I'm not ambitious to mak...Show more »

It's twenty-two years since I made The White Sister and that's a long time. I'm not ambitious to make too many pictures today, but I have never put any actual restriction on the number. I am guided entirely by the character of the stories which come to me from the studio. Of necessity, one thinks in terms of a picture a year or at the most three pictures every two years under those circumstances, but as far as I am concerned I would have no antipathy toward more if the subject were obtainable. A director might be something to consider for the future, but I am quite satisfied to remain the actor as long as there seem to be assignments at fairly regular intervals. Show less «

Fame has robbed me of my freedom and shut me up in prison, and because the prison walls are gilded, ...Show more »

Fame has robbed me of my freedom and shut me up in prison, and because the prison walls are gilded, and the key that locks me in is gold, does not make it any more tolerable. Show less «

A man usually falls in love with a woman who asks the kind of questions he is able to answer.

[asked if The Story of Mankind (1957) was based on a book] Yes. But they are using only the notes on...Show more »

[asked if The Story of Mankind (1957) was based on a book] Yes. But they are using only the notes on the dust jacket. Show less «

I haunted the Hollywood studios; I had no introductions. I was just on the outside. I was vastly imp...Show more »

I haunted the Hollywood studios; I had no introductions. I was just on the outside. I was vastly impressed by what I saw and heard there: the range of buildings, the ceaseless commotion of little knots of people excitedly planning outdoor scenes, whole cinema villages perched on the hillsides and populated only when the camera was there. That first sight of Hollywood gave me ambition. I inquired of a passerby about agents, and sought one out. He was at his desk, leaning back, reading a film magazine and steadily thickening the air with cigar smoke. I told him what I had done and I remained standing there, fumbling with my hat. He did not look up from his magazine. 'Do you think,' I ventured again, 'there might be a chance for me in Hollywood?' 'I wonder,' said he. Just that, nothing more, and I walked out. Show less «

Why should I go to dull parties and say dull things just because I wear greasepaint and make love to...Show more »

Why should I go to dull parties and say dull things just because I wear greasepaint and make love to beautiful women on the screen? Show less «

[to his agent] Before God I'm worth 35 dollars a week. Before the motion picture industry I'm worth ...Show more »

[to his agent] Before God I'm worth 35 dollars a week. Before the motion picture industry I'm worth anything you can get. Show less «

I loathe war. I'm inclined to be bitter about the politics of munitions and real estate, which are t...Show more »

I loathe war. I'm inclined to be bitter about the politics of munitions and real estate, which are the reasons of war. It certainly taught me to value the quiet life and strengthened my conviction that to keep as far out of range of vision as possible is to to be as safe as possible. Show less «

Ronald Colman

Ronald Colman's FILMOGRAPHY

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