Someone commented that Eleanor Roosevelt saw the world as one vast slum project.
That can be taken two ways. From her lofty social position, high above the clouds, almost anything on the ground would have struck her as shamefully deprived. But behind the gilt and grandeur, her early background was dogged by serious emotional starvation, and she may have felt she was living in some kind of spiritual slum, deep inside her.
Betrayal, real or perceived, was the theme. Both parents dying young - her adored father, so full of bright promises, followed by her chilly and disapproving mother who made it clear that Eleanor had let her down by turning out plain. A new life in her grandmother's enchanting mansion, unfortunately dominated by a couple of mad, violent uncles. Her husband Franklin seducing her social secretary Lucy, vowing to end the affair, but then carrying on secretly with the help of their own daughter. (Lucy, not Eleanor, was with him when he died.) Even being pitchforked into the job of First Lady, which she had always dreaded, but had to endure into an unheard-of fourth term. No wonder she was so desperate in her lifelong search for love, affection and intimacy.
Plain she was. Yet there is such a quality as ugly-beautiful. The English actress Edith Evans had it. In some of the early photos, Eleanor has it - a curious brand of femininity peeping through between those heavy jowls and the mop of hair that she never bothered to groom.
And so it's her private life that continues to arouse our curiosity first, and her civil rights crusade very much second. We know that she relished a three-year break from her family, when she attended an English boarding-school, run by a headmistress who inspired her with radical feminism, but also with lesbianism.
It is when her marriage has gone cold, and she starts to move in a circle of prominent lesbians, that we first catch her in a new, uninhibited, laughing mode. Then, while campaigning for Franklin's first presidential bid, she engaged in a passionate relationship with reporter Lorena Hickock; you have only to glance at some of their endless letters to see through the official claim that it was platonic. At about the same time, though, she was enjoying the company of her bodyguard Earl Miller, who clearly made her happy, though he denied any intimacy. It was rather the same with fellow-activist Joe Lash, and then her doctor and travelling companion David Goreyevitch. The rumours clash and contradict. We just don't know. But a lifelong friend was asked how she would sum-up Eleanor in one word. The word was 'lonely'.
Meanwhile in her civil rights work, there were plenty of real slum projects on which to lavish maternal feelings that somehow managed to by-pass her children (though she ended as a fond grandmother). This also echoed the strong belief that someone of her status 'owed something back' to society - a rather unfocused proposition, some of us feel. Certainly her attempt to re-build a mining town in West Virginia turned out counter-productive, reflecting a patronising attitude and a hopeless naivety. Depending how much you applaud the United Nations Charter of Human Rights - fought-through by Eleanor - you may or may not feel that she has helped to nurse and nourish the world.
But at almost two-and-a half hours, this well-made documentary gives you plenty of time to judge.
That can be taken two ways. From her lofty social position, high above the clouds, almost anything on the ground would have struck her as shamefully deprived. But behind the gilt and grandeur, her early background was dogged by serious emotional starvation, and she may have felt she was living in some kind of spiritual slum, deep inside her.
Betrayal, real or perceived, was the theme. Both parents dying young - her adored father, so full of bright promises, followed by her chilly and disapproving mother who made it clear that Eleanor had let her down by turning out plain. A new life in her grandmother's enchanting mansion, unfortunately dominated by a couple of mad, violent uncles. Her husband Franklin seducing her social secretary Lucy, vowing to end the affair, but then carrying on secretly with the help of their own daughter. (Lucy, not Eleanor, was with him when he died.) Even being pitchforked into the job of First Lady, which she had always dreaded, but had to endure into an unheard-of fourth term. No wonder she was so desperate in her lifelong search for love, affection and intimacy.
Plain she was. Yet there is such a quality as ugly-beautiful. The English actress Edith Evans had it. In some of the early photos, Eleanor has it - a curious brand of femininity peeping through between those heavy jowls and the mop of hair that she never bothered to groom.
And so it's her private life that continues to arouse our curiosity first, and her civil rights crusade very much second. We know that she relished a three-year break from her family, when she attended an English boarding-school, run by a headmistress who inspired her with radical feminism, but also with lesbianism.
It is when her marriage has gone cold, and she starts to move in a circle of prominent lesbians, that we first catch her in a new, uninhibited, laughing mode. Then, while campaigning for Franklin's first presidential bid, she engaged in a passionate relationship with reporter Lorena Hickock; you have only to glance at some of their endless letters to see through the official claim that it was platonic. At about the same time, though, she was enjoying the company of her bodyguard Earl Miller, who clearly made her happy, though he denied any intimacy. It was rather the same with fellow-activist Joe Lash, and then her doctor and travelling companion David Goreyevitch. The rumours clash and contradict. We just don't know. But a lifelong friend was asked how she would sum-up Eleanor in one word. The word was 'lonely'.
Meanwhile in her civil rights work, there were plenty of real slum projects on which to lavish maternal feelings that somehow managed to by-pass her children (though she ended as a fond grandmother). This also echoed the strong belief that someone of her status 'owed something back' to society - a rather unfocused proposition, some of us feel. Certainly her attempt to re-build a mining town in West Virginia turned out counter-productive, reflecting a patronising attitude and a hopeless naivety. Depending how much you applaud the United Nations Charter of Human Rights - fought-through by Eleanor - you may or may not feel that she has helped to nurse and nourish the world.
But at almost two-and-a half hours, this well-made documentary gives you plenty of time to judge.
