Paris Match interview
This is from the Magazine, Paris Match, which was released in 1993. Marlon Brando's daughter accused him of some pretty horrible things. We must remember at this time, Cheyenne Brando, was going through the murder of her fiance and even admitted for psychiatric treatment.
Read the whole story on the relationship between Cheyenne and Marlon Brando.
Read the entire story of Marlon Brando & his daughter Cheyenne Brando Here.
It's a must read to better understand this interview and will explain a lot!
Reporter: You have made the allegation . . . that your father behaved in an unnatural way toward you. Will you now explain?
Cheyenne: I have always been the "sacrifice" of Marlon Brando, his lamb for sacrifice, for his own personal happiness. I have said that I have been sexually abused by my father. My first memories go back to age seven.
Reporter: Did you tell your mother about it?
Cheyenne: No, I never told anybody about it, not even my mother.
Reporter: How would you describe these "sexual abuses"?
Cheyenne: My father acted in a strange way toward me, frequently touching my breast or giving me, on my bed, some massages, bouncing me on the bed as if he wanted me to mime for him the gestures of making love, like I'm having sex. He continued touching my breast even when I already was with Dag. To a certain degree, it was also a game on his part, and as a child I didn't always understand what was happening. He was also nice to me, taking walks, talking to me, but I was also very angry with him, because I remember now what he was doing to me.
Reporter: What was it like living on Tetiaroa? Do you remember being with your father there?
Cheyenne: I think my father was an alcoholic when he was there. I was told that he would drink whiskey and eat a mango at the same time. I lived on Tetiaroa for about two years. The longest he came was for about two or three months. . . .
Reporter: When your father brought you to Los Angeles in August 1992, did you want to come?
Cheyenne: Yes, but I thought it was for just a visit. ... I didn't know I was supposed to stay a long time.
Reporter: You didn't know he had bought a house for you?
Cheyenne: No, he didn't talk about that. Maybe he thought he could isolate me.
Reporter: Why did he want to do that?
Cheyenne: I think he was worried I would say something wrong, or something I didn't mean.
Reporter: What was it like living with him during those months?
Cheyenne: He often went in his room and put on a Do Not Disturb sign. That was when he did his "exercise." He said he sat in the dark room and played tapes. He said they were "autosuggestion" tapes. I don't know what that is, but he was listening to voices—I think his own voice—for hours, at three in the morning. I didn't see him do this, but he always talked about it. . . his meditating.
Reporter: Is he searching for his soul?
Cheyenne: I don't think he has a soul, so he is not searching for it. He is a great manitou —that's Tahitian for guru. He likes to lead people . . .
Reporter: Yes, people see him as a leader who has helped the Indians, black people, the underdog . . .
Cheyenne: Well, they should see him walking around in his pajamas with a hole in his pants, a hole that is not supposed to be there. They would see that he just doesn't care when he comes and knocks on my door all the time. He is a hypocrite.
Reporter: Did you ever wonder about your father's relations with women?
Cheyenne: Yes, of course. He always broke the heart of all the women he went out with
Reporter: Whom are you thinking about?
Cheyenne: About my mother first.
Reporter: What about you. Do you think you are one of them?
Cheyenne: No, I don't consider myself as one of his broken hearts. I realize now that I have always been his sacrifice and that Christian will always make him happy because he is his favorite child. So he has no hold over me anymore. My love for him is dead.
Reporter: How do you think your father will react to this interview?
Cheyenne: He will probably kill me. I'd rather not imagine it, even though I first spoke about it with my doctor.
Reporter: Does an unforeseeable reaction coming from your father worry you?
Cheyenne: A little bit, especially because I still live in the States. I know the risks I take by speaking because my mother will also be implicated in this. Maybe he will be so mad that he will stop supporting her in Tahiti. If I were in Tahiti, I would be less afraid. I have a house there and all my family lives nearby. So nothing bad could happen to me. He could not put me out on the street there.
Reporter: Five months after leaving L.A., how is your life today?
Cheyenne: I'd say I've changed a lot. I completely stopped communicating with my father. We haven't spoken to each other for five months. February 20 was my birthday, but he didn't even send me a card. . . . He's probably fed up, so I guess I'm a lucky person. I think that here I have discovered his true nature. Sometimes it seems to me he doesn't have any conscience. He has this way of saying, "I would give my life for you," as he told me many times. But that's just not credible. He is a liar and he was lying when he said that.
Reporter: Your father has also said that you are brain-damaged because of your auto accident in Tahiti.
Cheyenne: They have done two scans on me, and they didn't see any brain damage. As for my memory loss, it is just that I do not want to remember because of the shock and the pain, I would have preferred to go to Te-tiaroa to get some rest. Instead of that, they put me in a lunatic asylum. . . .
Reporter: It has been said that your father was angry at Dag for introducing his daughter to drugs. Was it Dag who made you a drug user?
Cheyenne: No, not at all. I did drugs before knowing him. We used drugs with mutual consent, and we smoked marijuana a lot. We took acid just once, but it was a bad trip for both of us. But my father blamed Dag for the drugs because I used to explain everything to my father, and he never accepted the fact that I was using drugs. He was always blaming Dag for that.
Reporter: How did your father make it clear that he didn't approve of your relationship with Dag
Cheyenne: One day, with very little notice, he arrived on the island and immediately called me to his hotel room in Punaauia. He said he wanted me to come back to L.A. to take care of him. He was sixty-three and I was seventeen. He was living with a woman, Yachiyo—she was still there and at his beck and call—and yet I was supposed to stay with him, cook his meals, be close to him. He actually used the phrase "take care of me." It was as if he was asking me to choose between him and my fiance.
Reporter: At the very beginning of the inquiry, you made this sensational revelation to the police officers. You said: "In case you didn't know, it's murder." What did you mean?
Cheyenne: I thought about The Godfather. My father presented himself and his life in a different way, but The Godfather is one of his facets.
Reporter: When you first saw the movie, you recognized your father under the godfather's features?
Cheyenne: It was the image of the true Marlon Brando.
Reporter: Watching The Godfather, it wasn't Don Corleone you were seeing?
Cheyenne: No, it was my father in the flesh. Afterward, for a long time, I saw him as a myth. I saw that he had the mentality of the godfather, of the Mafia—the powerful man able to manipulate people as it pleases him. That's why I think my father has that power, and it reminded me of voodoo. That's why I said, "He is the demon." I believe that even today my father keeps a psychological influence over me, which I don't know how to get rid of.