‘My Mom Jayne’ charts an astonishing journey of self-discovery
In the new documentary “My Mom Jayne,” actress Mariska Hargitay visits a family storage unit with her three older siblings and discovers a Golden Globe awarded to their mother, superstar Jayne Mansfield, in 1956. They take turns holding the statuette, after which Hargitay’s brother Zoltan turns to his sister and says, “You know what? You could put this with yours.”
Hargitay is overcome with emotion. She received her own Globe for NBC’s “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit” in 2005, nearly 50 years after her mother accepted the honor — but Mansfield wasn’t present to witness her daughter’s career milestone, as she died in a car crash when Hargitay was just 3. (Hargitay and brothers Mickey Jr. and Zoltan, who were in the back seat, survived the 1967 wreck that killed Mansfield, her attorney and boyfriend Sam Brody, and their driver.) How do you relate to a parent you can’t remember? How do you uphold their legacy without ever having known who they really were?
These are some of the questions Hargitay grapples with in “My Mom Jayne,” a poignant HBO documentary that marks her debut as a film director. Hargitay is an incredibly forthcoming narrator, admitting at 61 that she spent much of her life embarrassed by her mother, who aspired to be a dramatic actress but instead found fame as a sex symbol in comedic projects. The first-time filmmaker turns to her siblings, who were old enough to form substantial memories of Mansfield, to help humanize the woman Life magazine once deemed “Broadway’s smartest dumb blonde.” The process of making “My Mom Jayne” unlocks a level of empathy in Hargitay that the film then encourages viewers to summon within themselves as well.
Celebrity documentaries — which, alongside true-crime mysteries, have come to dominate the genre — often exist to stroke egos; this is especially the case when subjects exercise control on the production side. But Hargitay’s lack of information about Mansfield encourages a more journalistic approach to filmmaking. She doesn’t hesitate to point out some of her mother’s more questionable decisions, whether romantic or career-related, but is sure to highlight the patriarchal contexts in which they were made. Mansfield comes across as a survivor, accepting some demeaning roles because she wasn’t able to book more substantial ones, or staying in certain relationships in pursuit of a sense of peace.
At the same time, Hargitay’s personal connection adds unique depth to the documentary. Many books have been written about the tragedies of Mansfield’s overexposed life (including one by her longtime secretary, Raymond Strait, who appears in the film and is asked whether he unfairly took advantage of his proximity to Mansfield’s private life) but none have benefited from the immense weight of a daughter looking to understand her late mother. At several points, Hargitay’s eyes well up as she interviews a family member, threatening to pause or put an end to the conversation. She always pushes through.
The most astonishing revelation, which Hargitay expanded upon in a recent interview, arrives late in the film: She shares that the man who raised her, Hungarian-born actor and bodybuilder Mickey Hargitay, is not her biological father. Mansfield and Hargitay married in 1958, the same year she divorced her first husband (Paul Mansfield, who was the father of her first child, Jayne Marie). Together, they had two sons, Mickey Jr. and Zoltan, and a daughter, Mariska — who says she learned in her mid-20s that she was actually the product of a brief affair Mansfield carried on with Las Vegas entertainer Nelson Sardelli.
Suddenly, Mariska Hargitay’s identity crisis doubled: Who was she, really, without having known either of her biological parents?
Hargitay finally met Sardelli when she was 30 and, another 30 years later, still seems to struggle with the discovery. She kept her biological parentage secret out of respect for Mickey, who died in 2006, but the documentary makes clear that suppressing the truth only delayed her ability to process it. Hargitay displays raw emotion as she asks a nonagenarian Sardelli about his memories of Mansfield. He recalls her vulnerability, softening Hargitay’s attitude toward her mother’s indiscretions.
Perhaps it was to be expected that Hargitay, who has appeared in more than 500 episodes of a crime procedural, would prove to be an effective detective in real life, as well. But what makes “My Mom Jayne” remarkable is how Hargitay manages to move forward from the big reveals. This isn’t just a fact-finding mission for her, but a long-overdue reckoning.
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“My Mom Jayne”
Streaming now on HBO and HBO Max.