Mariska Hargitay Dives Into Jayne Mansfield’s Untold Tragedy

Okay, so here’s the low-key tragic saga that’s still buzzing. When Law & Order: SVU’s Mariska Hargitay decided to unpack her screen-sirens-for-days mom, Jayne Mansfield, she ended up directing a Cannes-and-Tribeca-darlings documentary called My Mom, Jayne. Having lost Jayne in a 1967 car crash at just 3 years old, Mariska spent decades piecing together who her glamorous mother really was—beyond the bombshell image immortalized in B-movies.
In exclusive interviews with People, the 61-year-old Emmy winner admits she grew up feeling both haunted and intrigued by Jayne’s larger-than-life reputation. Sure, Mansfield was a Hollywood sex symbol with the kind of curves that stopped traffic, but she also scored a 160 IQ, was a classically trained violinist, spoke multiple languages, and somehow juggled five kids while fostering a genuine affection for dogs. Deadline reports that Mariska screened My Mom, Jayne in Cannes this May, the very playground where Jayne dazzled half a century ago, and then brought it back stateside at Tribeca in June. Cue all the feels.
The documentary wasn’t just a sentimental stroll down memory lane. Mariska had to wrestle with childhood embarrassment over her mother’s on-screen persona. In a 2000 Washington Post chat, she confessed she spent her teen years playing tomboys—flannel shirts, jeans, boots—basically everything to dodge her mom’s overtly sexual legacy. Fast-forward to today, and she’s cool with sensual roles, crediting her upbringing for shaping her range.
But peeling back the glossy veneer also opened a vault of unanswered questions and a well of empathy. Vanity Fair notes that Mariska doesn’t remember the crash itself or even being told Jayne died. She only started to fill in the blanks with old family anecdotes, vintage magazine clippings, and her dad Mickey Hargitay’s recollections—yes, her “other” dad, who adopted her after his Olympic-hero-turned-actor persona stole the spotlight. Learning how Jayne’s own father died when she was three, and how studios typecast her into quick-cash flicks instead of serious art, only amplified Mariska’s urge to reclaim her mother’s narrative.
My Mom, Jayne isn’t just a celebrity tell-all. It’s a child’s quest to transform grief into a creative act of closure. Mariska told Deadline she wanted to know “what made her tick, what made her afraid, and what was her pain and what was her joy.” In doing so, she not only revives Jayne’s unfulfilled dreams but also cements her own legacy as TV’s indomitable Olivia Benson—for a staggering 26 seasons and counting.
If this trends, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and People Magazine, Deadline, Washington Post, Vanity Fair
Attribution: Creative Commons Licensed