The exotic temptress has been a Hollywood type since William Fox turned Cincinnati's own Theodosia Goodman into the embodiment of sex at its deadliest, Theda Bara. In later years, the industry sought love goddesses overseas and South of the border, with Greta Garbo, Marlene Dietrich and Dolores Del Rio among the most successful. All three managed to adapt to more nuanced roles, giving them a leg up over second-string imports like Lupe Velez. But for each international sensation who hit it big in Hollywood, there were a dozen failures, the Anna Stens and Sigrid Guries who never really caught on. The lucky ones had flourishing careers in their native lands or other media to return to. But many simply vanished from the public eye.

For all her talent and beauty, that was the fate awaiting Lili Damita, a French charmer whose off-screen troubles would eventually eclipse her on-screen performances. Best remembered as Errol Flynn's first wife and the tragic mother of his first-born son, few remember that at the time they met and married she was actually the bigger star.

Damita was born Liliane Marie Madeleine Carre in the Aquitaine region of France in 1904. She began studying dance at an early age and at 14 joined the Opera de Paris. By 16, she was dancing in music halls and working as a model. The latter exposure brought her first film contract. By 1925, she had risen to stardom in the Austrian film Das Spielzung von Paris, whose director, Michael Curtiz, she married that year. The story of a dancer torn between love and career was a huge hit, leading to two more films with Curtiz, even though the marriage only lasted a year. Work for other top European directors, including G.W. Pabst and Robert Wiene, eventually brought her to the attention of Hollywood. In 1928, Samuel Goldwyn signed her to co-star with Ronald Colman in The Rescue (1929). Colman's last silent was also the first of his starring vehicles to lose money, which may explain why Goldwyn never had another role for his leading lady. Instead, he loaned her to other studios, usually at a profit.

She actually got some promising films at first, including MGM's acclaimed late silent The Bridge of San Luis Rey (1929) and the third sequel to What Price, Glory? (1926), in which she succeeded Del Rio as the object of Victor McLaglen and Edmund Lowe's affections. Paramount -- with its exotic, European-style films of the early '30s -- seemed a fortuitous home for her, but she never worked with Josef von Sternberg, and the closest she came to working with Ernst Lubitsch, their other top director, was the French version of An Hour with You (1932), in which she took over Genevieve Tobin's role as the woman out to steal Maurice Chevalier from his wife, Jeanette MacDonald. She also had a sparkling comic role there as the movie extra hired to pose as Roland Young's wife in This Is the Night (1932), which gave her the chance to share love scenes with Cary Grant in his feature debut. But she also had to do time as the temptress in spite of herself in RKO's Friends and Lovers (1931), in which husband Erich von Stroheim uses her to blackmail Adolphe Menjou and Laurence Olivier. More fortuitous was the opportunity to play a character modeled on Garbo as the seductive film star who causes Warren William to neglect his business in The Match King (1932).

At that point, however, her Hollywood career started to slow down. She returned to Europe to star for Max Ophuls in Man Stolen (1934) and co-star with Jack Buchanan in the British comedy Brewster's Millions (1935). By the time she returned to Hollywood, she was already forgotten. In 1935, she went to Warner Bros. to accept fourth billing in the James Cagney Western Frisco Kid, ultimately losing him to the much less interesting Margaret Lindsay.

That was also the year her off-screen notoriety began to eclipse her on-screen career. Damita had always been popular on the Hollywood social scene, winning hordes of admirers with her stunning beauty. She had met Flynn while sailing back to the U.S. and rebuffed his advances at first. A later meeting at a Hollywood country club proved more fruitful, and before long they were living together at the Garden of Allah hotel. With the nation's moral dudgeon against Hollywood on the rise, they decided to marry, possibly at the urging of Flynn's boss, Jack Warner. The actor was virtually unknown at the time, but shortly after their Yuma, Arizona, wedding, he was cast to replace an ailing Robert Donat in Captain Blood (1935), the film that would make him a star. Ironically, it was directed by Damita's ex-husband Curtiz.

The Flynn-Damita marriage was among the most tempestuous in Hollywood history. Most friends noted that the two had little in common and barely spoke a word unless they were making love or fighting. Her tantrums were so frequent and violent, Flynn even dubbed her Tiger Lil. Nor did it help that her career had fallen apart. After the Poverty Row quickie The Devil on Horseback (1936) and a return to France for Escadrille of Chance (1937), she retired from acting. As their battles became more frequent and acrimonious, Flynn and Damita decided to live apart, though they continued to share bedroom trysts. It was the only place they were still compatible. They periodically attempted reconciliations, but it never worked, even after Damita bore him a son, Sean, in 1941. The two finally divorced in 1942.

With a hefty settlement, Damita settled in Palm Springs, Florida, to raise their son. Sean grew up as good-looking and adventurous as his father. He flirted with acting, but after a few films, most notably Son of Captain Blood (1962), designed to capitalize on his famous name, he moved into photojournalism, often risking his life to get the perfect shot. He was covering the Vietnam War in 1971 when he and a colleague disappeared in Cambodia. Damita spent much of her fortune trying to find out what had happened to him, an obsession that haunted her until she succumbed to Alzheimer's Disease in 1984, the same year her son was declared legally dead.

by Frank Miller