Dona Drake
Dona Drake (born Eunice Westmoreland; November 15, 1914 – June 20, 1989) was an American singer, dancer, and actress of African-American descent who achieved prominence in Hollywood during the 1930s and 1940s by passing as Latina to evade the era's strict racial segregation in the film industry.[1][2][3] Born in Jacksonville, Florida, to parents Joseph Westmoreland and Novella Smith, both of African-American heritage, she initially performed under the name Una or Rita Rio in nightclubs and early films before adopting the stage name Dona Drake and fabricating a Mexican or Cuban background for studio biographies.[1][2][4] Her career highlights include roles in Paramount musicals such as Road to Morocco (1942) alongside Bing Crosby and Bob Hope, and later freelance appearances in film noir like Kansas City Confidential (1952), where she played supporting characters often typed as exotic or ethnic figures.[5][2] Married to costume designer William Travilla from 1943 until her death, Drake's strategy of racial ambiguity allowed her access to opportunities denied to openly Black performers amid Jim Crow-era barriers, though it required concealing her true identity at significant personal cost.[2][6]
Early Life
Birth and Family Background
Dona Drake was born Eunice Westmoreland on November 15, 1914, to parents of African American descent in Florida, with records conflicting on the precise location as either Miami or Jacksonville.[3][7] Her father, Joseph Andrew Westmoreland Sr. (1882–1960), originated from Arkansas, while her mother, Novella Smith Westmoreland, hailed from Alabama; both were part of the African American community navigating Jim Crow-era restrictions in the early 20th-century South.[8][6] The Westmoreland family included Eunice and at least four siblings, totaling five children, raised in a segregated environment where African Americans faced systemic legal and social barriers, including limited access to public facilities and education under Florida's segregation laws enacted since the late 19th century.[7] The family's socioeconomic circumstances reflected those of many working-class Black households in the region, with her father reportedly relocating the family within Florida to support Eunice's emerging interests in music and dance amid these constraints, though specific details on their occupation or precise economic status remain sparse in contemporary records.[9] Eunice's early education occurred in the racially segregated public schools of Florida, where Black children were confined to underfunded institutions separate from white counterparts, fostering initial informal exposure to performing arts through community and family settings rather than formal training programs inaccessible to her demographic.[10] This formative period in the Jim Crow South shaped a childhood marked by racial isolation, with limited opportunities beyond local Black enclaves, setting the stage for her later pursuits without structured professional pathways.Ethnicity and Upbringing
Dona Drake, born Eunice Westmoreland on November 15, 1914, in Jacksonville, Florida, descended from African American parents Joseph Westmoreland, born in Alabama, and Novella Smith, born in Arkansas. U.S. Census records from 1920 and 1930 classify the family as "mulatto" or "Negro," indicating mixed African American heritage with likely white admixture traceable through genealogical lines such as her grandparents' documented interracial unions.[4][11] Raised in Florida's Jim Crow South during the 1910s and 1920s, she navigated an environment of rigid racial segregation that confined African Americans to under-resourced neighborhoods, denied equal access to public facilities, and perpetuated economic exclusion through discriminatory laws and white supremacist enforcement. In Jacksonville's African American enclaves like LaVilla—a once-vibrant cultural hub—thousands fled amid heightened white militancy and job scarcity between 1916 and 1917, underscoring barriers that stifled community advancement and artistic pursuits for Black individuals.[12][13] Such systemic constraints limited opportunities for performers, funneling talents into segregated circuits with scant pathways to broader recognition. Her aptitudes for singing and dancing surfaced naturally in childhood, fostered amid familial and local Black community traditions rather than structured instruction. These early expressions developed against a backdrop of pre-Civil Rights racial realism, where environmental pressures instilled resilience yet curtailed unhindered cultural exploration.[14]Career
Early Performances as Una Villon
In 1932, at the age of 18, Eunice Westmoreland adopted the stage name Una Villon and commenced her professional entertainment career in New York, performing dance routines and vocals in nightclubs and chorus lines amid the economic constraints of the Great Depression.[15][16] She partnered with performer Renee Villon to form a "sister act," securing engagements at notable venues including Nils T. Granlund's Paradise Restaurant, a leading Manhattan nightclub known for its revue-style shows.[17][18] Villon's early stage work emphasized energetic tap and Latin-influenced dance numbers complemented by jazz singing, drawing comparisons to dancer Ann Pennington for her agile footwork and stage presence.[15] In 1933, she toured with a road company edition of Earl Carroll's Vanities, a popular revue featuring elaborate chorus productions, which provided exposure through traveling performances across the United States.[15] By 1934, Villon's nightclub appearances garnered critical attention, as evidenced by gossip columnist Walter Winchell's commentary on her rhythmic dancing: "Una Villon's torso shifting serves to synchronize the tempos."[2] These initial forays, reliant on live variety formats, highlighted her versatility in an era when vaudeville circuits and cabarets faced declining audiences due to economic hardship and the rise of radio and film entertainment.[15]Adoption of Stage Names: Rita Rio and Rita Shaw
In 1935, Una Villon adopted the stage name Rita Rio to project a Latin persona, capitalizing on her dark features for an "exotic" appeal in live entertainment venues.[19] [5] This shift involved learning Spanish to perform authentically in nightclub acts and revues, where she emphasized rhythmic dances and songs tailored to a fabricated Mexican heritage.[20] As Rita Rio, she toured with an all-girl orchestra, initially dubbed "The Girl Friends" after her sister Rene's marriage, delivering performances that highlighted sultry, ethnic-inflected numbers without reliance on film studios.[21] These engagements, spanning the mid-to-late 1930s, established her in vaudeville circuits and built a following through live shows rather than recorded media.[2] She briefly employed the pseudonym Rita Shaw during this transitional period, using it for select orchestra and revue appearances that similarly leveraged her poised, enigmatic stage presence for "exotic" roles.[11] Details on Rita Shaw remain sparse, but contemporary accounts link it to early promotional efforts in New York and touring ensembles, distinct from her Rio branding yet aligned in promoting a non-Anglo allure to attract diverse audiences.[2] This name served as a short-lived variant amid her experimentation with pseudonyms, preceding her pivot to more permanent identities while honing skills in bandleading and ensemble dance routines.[22] The strategic use of these names facilitated entry into competitive entertainment markets, where ethnic ambiguity broadened booking opportunities in an era of segregated and typecast performances.[23]Film Roles and Professional Peak as Dona Drake
Drake adopted the stage name Dona Drake in 1941 upon signing a contract with Paramount Pictures, which promoted her in ethnic supporting roles emphasizing a fabricated Mexican background to align with her appearance.[2] Her early films under this name included the musical comedy Louisiana Purchase (1941), where she played Beatrice.[24] In 1942, during her professional peak at Paramount, Drake appeared in two prominent productions: Road to Morocco, portraying the handmaiden Mihirmah in the Bob Hope and Bing Crosby comedy alongside Dorothy Lamour, and Now, Voyager, as the wisecracking nurse aiding Bette Davis's character amid familial crisis.[25][26] These roles showcased her in secondary ethnic parts, leveraging her dancing and singing talents in studio musicals and dramas. Throughout the mid-1940s, she continued with Paramount and other studios in films such as Without Reservations (1946), playing Dolores opposite John Wayne and Claudette Colbert.[25] Her association with Bette Davis extended to Beyond the Forest (1949), where she portrayed the loyal servant Jenny in the noir drama.[25] Into the early 1950s, Drake took on tougher supporting roles, including in the crime thriller Kansas City Confidential (1952), marking a shift from lighter musical fare.[24]Musical Ventures and Later Work
In the 1940s, Drake maintained a parallel career in music by leading all-female orchestras on tour across the United States, including ensembles such as "The Girl Friends," which featured fellow actresses like Marie Wilson and emphasized swing and rhythm performances.[19] These groups, sometimes billed under variations like "Dona Drake and her Girl Band," showcased her skills as a bandleader and vocalist, aligning with the era's popularity of novelty all-girl acts amid wartime entertainment demands.[27] Transitioning into the 1950s amid diminishing film roles, Drake took on supporting parts in B-westerns, notably portraying the gypsy character Narita in Down Laredo Way (1953), a Republic Pictures production involving rodeo and smuggling plots co-starring Rex Allen and Slim Pickens.[28] She also made guest appearances on television series, including episodes of Soldiers of Fortune (1955–1957) and Studio 57 (1954–1958), adapting her exotic persona to anthology and adventure formats as opportunities in major cinema waned.[29] By the late 1950s, industry changes favoring younger talent and shifting production to television contributed to Drake's gradual withdrawal from public performances, with her final credited roles marking a shift toward private life after mid-decade TV spots.[3] This retirement reflected broader contractions in Hollywood's studio system rather than abrupt cessation, as she had already scaled back following family commitments.[14]Personal Life
Marriage and Family Dynamics
Dona Drake married Academy Award-winning costume designer William Travilla on August 19, 1944, in a private ceremony.[6] At the outset of their union, Drake held greater prominence in the entertainment industry, having built a decade-long career as a performer prior to their meeting, while Travilla was emerging in fashion design.[6] The couple welcomed one daughter, Nia Novella Travilla, born August 16, 1951, in Los Angeles, California, marking their only child.[30][2] Their partnership emphasized mutual professional encouragement within Hollywood's demanding milieu, as Drake navigated acting roles and Travilla advanced in costume design, often collaborating informally on personal projects like apparel sketches at home.[31] Despite strains from Drake's career fluctuations and emotional challenges, the marriage endured without formal dissolution after a 1956 separation, with the pair preserving amicable ties primarily to support their daughter's stability.[2][32] The family maintained a residence in the Los Angeles area throughout the mid-20th century, integrating into California's entertainment social networks while prioritizing domestic privacy amid public scrutiny.[33] This household dynamic reflected a balance of spousal interdependence, with Travilla's rising success eventually complementing Drake's established yet evolving profile in show business.[14]Health Issues and Death
Dona Drake experienced a gradual decline in her health during the later stages of her career, which was attributed to chronic stress from professional pressures and personal challenges. Following the critical and commercial failure of her 1949 film The Girl from Jones Beach, she reported noticeable health deterioration, which her husband, costume designer William Travilla, linked to the demands of maintaining her public persona as an actress.[34] By the late 1960s, worsening mental health issues, including a diagnosis of epilepsy, prompted her retirement from entertainment and led her to relinquish custody of her daughter, Nia, to Travilla while seeking treatment.[34] [2] Drake died on June 20, 1989, at the age of 74 in Los Angeles, California, from pneumonia and respiratory failure.[35] [5] [11] She had remained legally married to Travilla since 1944, despite their separation in 1956, until her death.[34] Following her passing, Drake was cremated, and her ashes were scattered at sea off Point Fermin in San Pedro, California; no public funeral details are recorded, reflecting the private nature of her final arrangements.[35]Racial Identity and Passing
Strategies of Concealment
Drake initiated her concealment of African American ancestry upon entering the entertainment industry in the 1930s by publicly claiming Mexican heritage, asserting on Paramount studio resumes that she was of Mexican, Irish, and French descent and had been born and raised in Mexico City.[36] This fabrication extended to inventing a name for her mother to align with the Latino persona, while she avoided any professional or public ties to Black performers or communities.[37] To reinforce the illusion, she adopted the stage name Rita Rio in 1935 to evoke Latin origins and diligently learned Spanish for fluent use in performances and interviews.[36] Physically, Drake straightened her naturally thick, curly hair—characteristic of her heritage—and applied makeup to accentuate features associated with Latina ethnicity, enabling her to embody "exotic" roles without scrutiny.[14] Drake enforced secrecy within her family, directing relatives to withhold details of her birth as Eunice Westmoreland to Black parents Joseph Westmoreland and Novella Smith, a directive that persisted after her 1989 death.[11] Her racial background remained obscured until the 2000s, when public genealogical databases drew on U.S. Census records to confirm her parents' documented Black identity and Florida origins, revealing the extent of the maintained veil.[11][38]Consequences and Personal Toll
Drake's decision to conceal her African American heritage imposed significant isolation from the Black community, as public association risked exposing her background during an era of strict segregation and limited opportunities for Black performers. This separation precluded participation in Black cultural networks and support systems, contributing to a documented emotional tumult that strained her personal relationships.[39][2] The secrecy surrounding her identity exacerbated tensions in her marriage to costume designer William Travilla, whom she wed in 1944 amid legal barriers to interracial unions in several states. By 1956, her worsening emotional state—linked by contemporaries to the ongoing concealment—led to their separation, though they never divorced, highlighting the relational costs of maintaining the facade.[2][39] Health challenges emerged in the mid-1950s, coinciding with intensified career pressures and identity maintenance; Drake retired from film due to seizures associated with epilepsy, which sources attribute in part to the chronic stress of her dual life. She died on June 20, 1989, at age 74 from pneumonia and respiratory failure in Los Angeles, with retrospective analyses positing that prolonged psychological strain accelerated her physical decline.[40][34] Posthumously, revelations of her heritage through U.S. Census records and family genealogical research—uncovered after her death—altered public perceptions of her legacy without her ability to contextualize or control the narrative, underscoring a loss of agency over her personal history.[40][41]Diverse Viewpoints on Her Choices
Scholars such as economist Suresh Naidu have argued that racial passing represented a rational response to severe economic and social barriers under segregation, enabling light-skinned individuals to access higher wages, better jobs, and broader networks unavailable to those identified as Black, thereby demonstrating personal ingenuity in navigating discriminatory systems.[42] In Dona Drake's case, this perspective frames her adoption of a Mexican or Latina persona as a strategic circumvention of Hollywood's racial exclusions, allowing her to perform in over 30 feature films from the late 1930s to the early 1950s alongside white co-stars, contributions that would likely have been restricted to domestic roles or obscurity otherwise.[1] Conversely, historians like Allyson Hobbs emphasize the heavy personal and communal tolls of passing, portraying it as a "chosen exile" that severed ties to ancestral heritage, family, and cultural identity, often at the expense of psychological integrity and reinforcing colorist preferences for lighter phenotypes within marginalized groups.[43] Applied to Drake, critics in this vein contend her concealment perpetuated the erasure of African American lineage in entertainment history, prioritizing individual advancement over collective representation and potentially contributing to internalized estrangement, as echoed in broader analyses of passers who maintained lifelong secrecy.[44] Historical comparisons to figures like literary critic Anatole Broyard, who passed as white amid similar mid-20th-century prejudices, fuel ongoing debates on authenticity versus exigency: proponents of survival see such choices as adaptive resilience against existential threats, while detractors highlight the moral ambiguity of disavowing one's origins, arguing it undermined solidarity in eras of codified inequality without challenging the underlying racial binaries.[45] These tensions reflect no consensus, with passing viewed alternately as pragmatic subversion or complicity in systemic denial, though empirical records show it afforded tangible gains like professional longevity amid pervasive exclusion.[46]Legacy and Impact
Achievements in Entertainment
Dona Drake amassed credits in 31 films from the 1930s through the 1950s, demonstrating longevity in Hollywood spanning early musicals to postwar noir.[47] Her roles often highlighted her skills as a singer and dancer, including appearances in high-profile comedies like the Bob Hope and Bing Crosby Road series, where she played Mihirmah in Road to Morocco (1942) and Lucia in Road to Rio (1947).[24] These performances integrated musical sequences and comedic timing, contributing to the franchise's success in blending adventure with entertainment during World War II-era releases.[14] In wartime efforts, Drake supported troop morale through pin-up features in publications such as Yank, the Army Weekly, providing visual and performative boosts to soldiers.[34] Her multifaceted talents extended beyond acting; as Rita Rio, she led a touring all-girl orchestra in the early 1940s, known variably as "Dona Drake and her Girl Band," performing swing-era arrangements.[3] This leadership role underscored her proficiency on instruments including piano, trumpet, clarinet, and saxophone, marking a rare instance of female bandleading in big band and swing contexts.[15] Drake's career bridged stage origins in Broadway chorus lines to television appearances in series like Studio 57 and Soldiers of Fortune in the 1950s, evidencing adaptability across evolving media formats.[48] Her consistent output in over three decades of entertainment highlighted empirical successes in securing diverse roles and musical ventures amid industry transitions.[49]Criticisms and Historical Reassessment
Drake's career was marked by persistent typecasting in "exotic" ethnic roles, such as sultry Latinas or South Seas performers, which confined her to supporting parts emphasizing song-and-dance routines over dramatic depth.[14] This limitation, common in 1940s Hollywood's rigid casting practices, prevented her from securing lead roles or contracts beyond Paramount's brief tenure, culminating in her release after failing to expand beyond "spicy" stereotypes.[9] Contemporary observers occasionally critiqued her affected accent and fabricated Mexican heritage—promoted by studios with invented parental names—as inauthentic, reflecting broader industry tendencies to exoticize non-white performers while enforcing narrow personas.[37] Following the posthumous revelation of her African American ancestry in 1989, historical reassessments from the 2000s onward have positioned Drake within Black cinema histories, crediting her as a resilient figure who evaded Jim Crow-era barriers through racial passing.[1] Advocates highlight how systemic biases compelled such strategies, enabling contributions to films like Kansas City Confidential (1952) that might otherwise have been inaccessible to Black actors.[14] However, debates persist over her legacy: some historians and cultural commentators argue her choices amplified ethnic stereotypes without advancing authentic Black representation, questioning her inclusion in African American narratives given her lifelong denial of heritage.[50] Recent documentaries, such as Dona Drake: The African American Who Fooled the World (2024), frame this tension as a trade-off between survival in a discriminatory industry and personal integrity, without resolving whether her passing ultimately enriched or undermined Black artistic history.[51]Preservation Efforts
Efforts to preserve Dona Drake's filmography have focused on digitizing and restoring early musical shorts under her initial stage name, Rita Rio, which featured her as a singer and dancer in all-woman ensembles during the 1930s and 1940s. In 2021, the UCLA Film & Television Archive received a $20,000 grant from the GRAMMY Foundation to digitize, restore, and preserve three such rare shorts, addressing degradation from obsolete formats like nitrate film stock common before 1950.[52] These initiatives highlight challenges with pre-1950s media, including chemical instability and scarcity of prints, which have led to losses in her lesser-known performances.[52] Her feature films, many produced by Paramount Pictures, benefit from studio archives, with titles like Kansas City Confidential (1952) available via commercial releases, though comprehensive restorations remain limited outside major collections.[53] Since the 2010s, following public disclosure of her African American heritage, Drake's work has been incorporated into Black cinema retrospectives, such as the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures' Regeneration: Black Cinema exhibition, which features her in curated filmographies spanning 1897–1971 to emphasize historical and social significance.[1] Audio preservation of her jazz-influenced vocal work, primarily from film soundtracks and shorts, faces similar hurdles, with surviving recordings fragmented and often tied to visual media restorations rather than standalone releases. Academic interest has grown post-disclosure, prompting archival screenings like those at the 2024 UCLA Festival of Preservation, which spotlight her early swing-era contributions to contextualize her output within overlooked histories of women-led performances.[54] These efforts prioritize empirical recovery over reinterpretation, ensuring access to original materials amid ongoing degradation risks.[53]Filmography
Feature Films
Dona Drake's verified feature film credits, drawn from film databases, encompass supporting roles in musicals, comedies, dramas, and adventure pictures primarily from the late 1930s to the mid-1950s.[5]| Year | Title | Role | Director |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1936 | Strike Me Pink | Mademoiselle Fifi | Norman Taurog |
| 1941 | Aloma of the South Seas | Mamo | Alfred Santell |
| 1941 | Louisiana Purchase | (uncredited) | Irving Cummings |
| 1942 | Road to Morocco | Mihirmah | David Butler |
| 1943 | Salute for Three | Dona Drake (as herself with band) | Ralph Murphy |
| 1944 | Hot Rhythm | Pepper Hill | William Beaudine |
| 1946 | Without Reservations | Dolores | Mervyn LeRoy |
| 1946 | Dangerous Millions | Elena Valdez | James Tinling |
| 1948 | Another Part of the Forest | Bertha | Michael Gordon |
| 1949 | Beyond the Forest | Jenny | King Vidor[55] |
| 1949 | The Girl from Jones Beach | Connie Martin | Peter Godfrey |
| 1952 | Kansas City Confidential | Teresa | Phil Karlson |
| 1953 | Bandits of Corsica | Zelda | Ray Nazarro[56] |
| 1953 | Son of Belle Starr | Dolores | Frank McDonald |
| 1954 | Princess of the Nile | Mirva | Harmon Jones[57] |
Television and Short Subjects
Dona Drake appeared in a limited number of early television episodes during the 1950s, primarily as a guest star in anthology and adventure series, reflecting the transitional medium's focus on short-form drama and her established screen persona as an exotic or supporting figure.[48] Her television work emphasized episodic storytelling over the sustained narratives of feature films, reaching audiences through live or filmed broadcasts on networks like syndication and CBS, though with smaller production scales and budgets compared to theatrical releases.[5] In 1953, Drake guest-starred as Joyce, a blonde associate in a gangster plot, in the Adventures of Superman episode "The Dog Who Knew Superman" (Season 2, Episode 9, aired November 14), where her character navigates intrigue involving Superman's secret identity.[58] That same year, she appeared as Francesca in an episode of City Detective, a crime procedural series.[48] In 1954, she featured in Studio 57, an anthology program, and the The Lone Wolf series starring Louis Hayward.[5] By 1955, Drake portrayed Cheu in Soldiers of Fortune, an adventure show centered on treasure hunts and exotic locales.[48] These roles, often uncredited or minor, highlighted her versatility in supporting parts amid television's rapid expansion, though she retired from acting by the late 1950s.[5] Drake's short subjects, mostly from the late 1930s to early 1940s, predated her feature prominence and served as showcases for her musical talents under the stage name Rita Rio, typically as a bandleader in two-reel musical revues produced by studios like Educational Pictures.[59] These one- or two-reel formats, distributed to theaters as filler between features, prioritized performance clips over plot, contrasting the broader dramatic arcs of full-length films and targeting vaudeville-style entertainment for shorter attention spans.[60]- Beautiful, But Dummies (1938): Appeared as a model in this comedic short. (Note: Cross-verified via multiple film databases)
- Rita Rio and Her Orchestra (1939): Led performances as orchestra leader, featuring jitterbug routines.[59]
- Gals and Gallons (1939): Orchestrated musical numbers as Rita Rio.
- I Look at You (1941): Performed as Rita Rio in a revue-style short.
- Salute for Three (1943): Billed with her girl band in a patriotic musical short.[61]