HISTORY LESSON: The Scarlet "P'

Lupe Velez, her inner turmoil always secretly

simmering beneath her public facade.

The only thing more fearful than the wrath of God is the human finger of judgment. Human beings, while capable of great brilliance, kindness, and sympathy, are just as equally capable of hypocrisy, short-sightedness, and an indulgence in the ever-unfashionable superiority complex. From our long evolution from savage cavemen and women to "civilized" mankind, we have created certain societal structures that make life more functional and cohesive. Social mores, rules, laws, taboos, religious morals, and definitions of principle, have all woven together to create expected behaviors and ways of living. Unfortunately, just as much as man needs order, he rebels against it. Hence our inner cavemen convincing us to color outside the lines from time to time. Often times, it is the sexual impulse that gets us in trouble. Ironically, the simplest part of our nature is too the one that makes life so complicated. It would be nice if everyone followed the Cleaver family's simple steps to acceptance: a woman remains a virgin until marriage, wherein she is joined to a man earning a steady living, and they commence making perfect babies who follow their sterling example when the time comes. Raise your hand if you stuck to that path? Yeah. It's complicated, hence the slew of celebrity "Un-oh" moments that ended with the letter "P" -- Pregnant!

Pregnancy out of wedlock, at too young an age, with the wrong partner, etc, is hard enough. Having a baby in Golden Era Hollywood was harder. Celebrities had a stellar image to uphold. There could be no hint of scandal that could turn the public against the idols who kept the studios churning. Thus, if two unmarried lovers "got in trouble," the publicity department would do whatever was necessary to keep the information out of the press. But, if people did find out, an actress wouldn't be too surprised to find herself stripped of her contract and left in the cold. It was rough for women, as they literally had to carry the burden of their indiscretions and, more often than not, face the hurtful decisions and judgments to follow alone. In addition, actresses were openly encouraged to participate in the most popular form of Hollywood birth control: abortion. This wasn't just ever-so-delicately suggested by the big wigs when an adulterous affair went wrong. It was also inflicted on any pregnant actress in order to both a) keep her working and b) keep her figure. Thus, many women were intimidated and manhandled into choosing their careers over their unborn children. The emotional toll this took was obviously devastating, as it instigated desperate measures, (See the cases of Loretta Young (read here) or Lupe Velez (here), the latter of whom was so disturbed at her circumstances that she killed both herself and her child in one fell swoop).

Many women are rumored to have had abortions, which explains all those press releases from the early era regarding this or that actress being hospitalized for an "appendectomy." Everyone in Hollywood knew what that meant. The public might have had a clue, but most just assumed that California water induced a Hell of a lot of appendicitis. Marilyn Monroe (right) is often cited as one who obtained several abortions. How many of these claims can be confirmed is uncertain. It is, however, very likely that in her youth, she had to undo one or two wrongs, since she was allegedly passed around like a cigarette by the industry. Raising a baby alone would not only be incredibly difficult, but it would forever destroy her dream of becoming the greatest star in the world. If she did have an abortion or abortions, this would explain the difficulty she later had in conceiving. She must have naturally felt with every failure that she was being punished for her previous mistakes. As such, she was always very attentive to the children of her friends, and she took distinct pleasure in being the temporary step-mother of Joe Jr. ( as in DiMaggio), with whom she remained close after her divorce from Joe Sr. (She even spoke to Joe Jr. on the night of her death). Every future miscarriage she suffered, including one with Arthur Miller, was agonizing. She never fulfilled her desire for motherhood. (Although, there are conspiracy theories that she did give birth to, if you believe the BS, dozens of babies over the years, whom she gave up for adoption. The numbers are a little too steep to be believed).

Joan Crawford is another cinema siren who is often speculated to have had her share of abortions. In her case, this is often chalked up to her desire to maintain her youthful body and continue her reign as one of the Queens of Hollywood. This would make sense, as she adopted four children in time (another controversial story) but never bore any of her own. Whether Joan made this move to present the image of the loving movie star whom she thought the public wanted, or whether she did so to indulge her own maternal instincts, is still debatable. Probably, it was a little of both. As a girl with a complicated relationship with her own mother, she may have wanted to undo the wrongs of her upbringing by giving neglected children their second chance at a warm family life. There is continuing argument about just how good a job she did. The elder two children, who instigated the Mommie Dearest fiasco, would be combated in their sinister assertions by the younger two, who vigorously defended Joan as being a wonderful parent. Certainly, Joan may have had her issues, including a possible penchant for OCD, and as her career always came first-- her insecure way of overcoming her past and proving herself to the world-- she was not the prototype for a perfect mother. The idea of motherhood is much easier than the reality. (Joan strikes a maternal pose with adopted daughter Christina, left, who would later pen a scathing novel about her "motherly" attributes).

Some women fell prey to the pressures of the industry when addressing their pregnancies, but more interestingly, some were manipulated by their own mothers. Jean Harlow (right) is one example. Jean was one of few actresses in Hollywood-- joined by Carole Lombard and Audrey Hepburn-- remembered by every cast and crew member as being a true sweetheart. Her early death at 26 provoked a stunning silence on the MGM lot that few celebs have been able to equal (two others being Lon Chaney and Irving Thalberg). Jean's rise to fame was accidental. It had been her mother, the real Jean, who had wanted to be a star. Daughter "Harlean" had literally been in the right place at the right time when her call to the camera came, and soon her mother was riding her designer gowns all the way to the top. Jean became an overworked piggy-bank for her mother and sketchy step-father, Marino Bello. When Jean became pregnant by her first husband Charles McGrew, whom she wed at the age of 16, it was Mama Jean who insisted that her daughter get an abortion, so her rising career would not be interrupted, nor Mama's cash flow. Jean was distraught, as she had always wanted a simple life with children and her own family. Obedient as ever, the easily pressured Jean gave into her mother's demands. She spent the rest of her life enduring further heartbreaks: the death of husband Paul Bern, a divorce from friend Harold Rosson,  and a tortured love for William Powell, with whom it is speculated that she endured another abortion. She never seemed to raise a hand to defend herself against anyone, perhaps having already given up on a dream that she felt she no longer deserved. She died exhausted and heartbroken, though still brimming with kindness. Ironically, her nickname was "Baby." (Jean would gain notoriety for her platinum locks, but she seemed much more comfortable and natural on camera when she went dirty blond and played girls-next-door more like herself, right in Wife vs. Secretary).

Bette Davis seems like the kind of character who never bowed to anyone's will but her own. However, even she had a very close and complicated relationship with her mother, Ruthie Favor. Bette had always admired her mother, who had done more than her share in raising her two daughters (including the younger Bobby) alone after her husband left them. A woman with an aesthetic eye, the photographer and sometimes actress would influence her elder, more vibrant daughter Bette's interest in the arts. Bette was not exactly an easy child. Headstrong, and perhaps suffering from some level of OCD herself, it was always "her way or the highway!" She insisted on receiving money for dresses, purses, dancing classes, etc, and Ruthie always gave in for fear of Bette's tantrums. Shyer sister Bobby just sort of watched the madness while she disappeared into her own. When Bette went Broadway, the family joined as her coterie. It was all about Bette.

However, this resulted in an unnatural co-dependence between mother and daughter. Their rapport was intense, combative, yet loving. For all the yelling back and forth, they would defend each other with every breath in their bodies. So, when Bette found herself pregnant with first husband Harmon Oscar Nelson's child, it was the idolizing Ruthie who convinced her rising star daughter to have an abortion. Bette's career was just starting, and both she and Ruthie feared that any hindrance in her progress would be irredeemable. Bette deliberated the options, but she concurred with her mother. Oscar was not told about his unborn child until much later. It is alleged that Bette would have multiple abortions over the years, including one resulting from her affair with William Wyler, but the majority of claims are pure speculation. When Bette later had daughter, B.D, (above left) with William Grant Sherry, it is said that the same mother-daughter relationship continued. Bette took Ruthie's place; B.D. took hers. The cat fights continued.

And then... There are the scandals! Marlene Dietrich was known for seducing many of Hollywood's leading men, from John Gilbert to John Wayne. Needless to say, when she began filming on Destry Rides Again with everyone's favorite, regular fellow Jimmy Stewart, his chances of escaping her wiles were as slim as his waistline. The attraction was mutual (right). Ten years before he fell in love and wed his only wife, Gloria, Jimmy was one of the most eligible bachelors in Hollywood. Handsome, charming in his awkwardness, and riding the wave of an increasingly successful film career, he was very appealing to the opposite sex, if only because he seemed to be equally gentlemanly. Ginger Rogers herself would attest, when it came to dates, she preferred Jimmy and Cary Grant as her dance partners. When the more sensually provocative Marlene set her sights on him, and he caught a glimpse of her gams, it didn't take long for fire to ignite-- on and off screen.

Unfortunately, in the midst of their brief fling, Marlene got pregnant. As a married woman, in a very open relationship with husband Rudi Sieber, she could at least play the child off as legitimate. On the other hand, Jimmy-- according to her recollection-- was a nervous wreck! Firstly, he had committed adultery-- although Rudi didn't seem to mind a bit about his wife's infidelities, while he was openly living with his own permanent mistress Tamara Matul. More importantly, Jimmy was disconcerted at the idea that he was going to be the father of a child he couldn't even claim! Marlene said that Jimmy became the exact, stuttering replica of his onscreen persona: "W-Well, what-what, what're you gonna do!?" Marlene would state on the record that the baby just "went away," implying a miscarriage, but since she had already decided that she didn't want to have anymore children-- she had one daughter, Maria-- it is more likely that she chose a more forbidden solution to the problem. After this altercation, the romance between Jimmy and Marlene was finito.

Then, there is the much more sorrowful case of Patricia Neal and Gary Cooper (who ironically is also rumored to be the real father of Lupe's tragic baby). Coop had been a notorious womanizer, as his "aw, shucks" prettiness was like catnip to the ladies, who reacted to him much the same way as they did Mr. Stewart. However, while Jimmy's appeal was more accidental, Coop's was instinctual, and he didn't seem to turn away any prospects. He'd had intense relationships with Clara Bow and Lupe, and multiple  other flings while enduring his loveless marriage to "Rocky" Balfe, but his final great love affair was with his Fountainhead co-star, ingénue Pat Neal. A Kentuckian with an atypical, assertive beauty (left), a wonderful, deep voice that seemed to be coated with good Southern liquor, and an education in the more modern style of acting, Patricia didn't seem to be a good match for Coop. When he saw her testing for the role of "Dominique Francon," he thought she was "awful." However, once filming began, their attraction was immediate. Patricia fought her more primal urges until filming had completed, then on the night of the wrap party, the duo's affair began.

Friends of Gary would say that it was the happiest that they had seen him in years. Patricia was also in love and fascinated by the classic, older actor (25-years her senior) who had a quiet intelligence, elegance, and an astounding hold on his craft. So smitten was Gary, that he started attending Pat's classes with her, watching younger thespians developing a new take on acting. The pair's relationship endured its ups and downs, including Patricia's guilt, their inevitable lack of future, and Coop's continued philandering-- Pat once returned a pair of earrings that Coop had given her only to find that he had bought two more identical sets for other women. The final nail in the coffin was her pregnancy. Needless to say, despite her strength and determination that she could raise the child on her own, the resulting scandal would be something from which both performers would be unlikely to recover. In Pat's own words: "For over 30 years, alone, in the night, I cried. I cried over that baby... I had not allowed him to exist." Pat would eventually marry her only husband, Roald Dahl, and have five children during their 30-year union. She saw Coop alone only once more after their split. Much time had passed, and they were able to bury the hatchet and depart as friends. Their passion for each other had died with their child.

Yet, there has been at least one torrid Hollywood affair and adulterous conception that ended with a birth. I speak, of course, of Ingrid Bergmann and Roberto Rossellini. Ingrid's soft, ethereal beauty (right) and her emotional, instinctual performances had made her the new golden girl of Hollywood in the '40s, as well as Alfred Hitchcock's latest obsession. A woman in constant search of a father, she often found herself confusing her on-screen attraction for her co-stars spilling into her private life. Her marriage to  Dr. Petter Lindstrom, who actually used to ration her food (!), had offered her little comfort over the years, so she consistently took solace in the most familiar men in her life-- her leading men. Unfortunately, as soon as her films wrapped, so did her feelings. It seems the final call of "cut" always brought her back down to earth where she was confronted by her guilt over what she had done. Gary Cooper would recall falling for her during For Whom the Bell Tolls, but after filming ended, he "couldn't get her to return [his] calls."

At the end of the day, it was Ingrid's art that meant the most to her. Her work was the most honest thing she could give to the world or herself. However, when she traveled to Europe to begin shooting Stromboli with hot (married) Italian director Roberto Rossellini, there was no confusion about her feelings. She fell in love with the brilliant man who was changing the face of foreign cinema. Hitchcock was a bit burned when his top actress kicked him over for another director, but his anger was just the tip of the iceberg. When Ingrid got pregnant, she opted to keep her child, divorce her cold husband, and marry her dream man. Son Robertino "Robin" Rossellini was born, (joining his half sister Pia), and chaos ensued. The world's reaction was more than harsh; it was devastating. Ingrid was literally shamed out of Hollywood-- simply for being honest-- and virtually blacklisted from American work. Yet, as time heals all wounds, six years would repair the damage. She would return with a career comeback in her Oscar-winning performance as Anastasia. Once again, Hollywood was groveling at her feet. The sturdy Swede had made her point. Her marriage to Rossellini didn't last, nor did her final marriage to Lars Schmidt, but she still triumphed personally and professionally: she had a combined brood of 4 beautiful children from her first two unions-- including her final twin daughters, Isabella and Isotta-- and a career that any actress would envy.

Ingrid with her four grown tots: Isabella, Robin, Isotta, and Pia, before one

of her stage performances.

It is a dangerous thing and a heavy burden to play God, which we do when we act as our own creators and make new life. It is a sacrifice to which some of us cannot commit for various reasons. No road is easy. For those that travel the path of parenthood, the struggles are difficult, stressful, but (one hopes) ultimately rewarding. For those who do not, the grim reality of their dismissal of nature's call and the resultant guilt is often punishment enough-- no stone throwing necessary. As ever, in such dark and multi-faceted subject matter, our stars act as our martyrs, just as they do on the big screen-- magnifying the life experience and providing the many, varied shades and examples of survival we all make, have made, and will make in our collective history. No one's story is the same, but we are all tragicomics. My heart goes out to the women who had to endure the harsh scrutiny, strict control, and ridicule that they suffered under the mighty Hollywood microscope. Ladies, let it be known, in your incredible work, you were mothers to us all.

CAST AWAYS: Part XI

Acting is no day at the beach, but Montgomery Clift takes advantage 

of his proximity to the ocean to peruse some scripts.

In the midst of filming The Big Lift and riding the wave of his current success, the film offers were rolling into Montgomery Clift. A savvy actor,  he was pretty good at weeding out the good prospects from the bad. One particular item that initially presented itself as a "goody" was the chance to collaborate with Billy Wilder. The project: Sunset Blvd. Wilder had in fact written the part of "Joe Gillis" with Monty in mind. Who better to portray the jaded, morally ambiguous screenwriter than the mysterious, multi-faceted Monty? For awhile, it seemed a done deal, and Monty and Billy went back and forth about the project over a period of months. Imagine the director's surprise when Monty's gave him a long-distance phone call from Berlin and informed him that he would not be taking the role. Billy was flabbergasted... and a bit miffed! After all, he thought that they had come to an understanding? Monty stood firm, insisting that the part wasn't right for him. In the end, Billy was stuck with the much more macho and cynical answer to his prayers, William Holden. Monty's decision turned out to be a blessing for the project, which went on to become a critically acclaimed masterpiece that reignited William's career. In retrospect, Monty always maintained that he was proud of his decision and thought the film was amazing. His refusal of the part was perhaps the simple result of his business acumen, and his knowledge that there was a better fit for the role out there, but many also made assertions that he found too many uncomfortable commonalities between the nature of Joe's relationship with the dominating "Norma Desmond" and his own relationship with his mother.

Fortunately for cinema, Bill Holden took no umbrage to being under a powerful

woman: with Gloria Swanson in Sunset Blvd.

Monty's perception about casting extended beyond his own career. On many of the projects he was involved with, he had definite ideas about whom should be cast opposite him. One such example occurred when he landed the role of "George Eastman" in A Place in the Sun. It was already announced that Elizabeth Taylor was to be his leading lady, after hearing the news of which Monty responded, "Who's Elizabeth Taylor?" One hopes he was being sarcastic. The role of his more ill-fated girlfriend in the film was still up for grabs, however. Monty had great respect for Betsy Blair (left), and he had become good friends with both her and her husband Gene Kelly. With her subdued and underplayed talent and her handsome but modest appearance, Monty thought she was the perfect fit for "Alice Tripp." He went to bat for her, but-- perhaps due to Betsy's leftist political leanings during the "red scare"-- the part went instead to Shelley Winters. Monty was displeased. Almost as critical of others' performances as he was of his own, he was vocal of his dissatisfaction with Shelley's portrayal of the forlorn assembly line worker. He thought she was coming on too strong and playing the part too pathetic and desperate from the get-go. Despite his misgivings, others praised Shelley's performance and many claimed that it was the best of her career. Betsy, as fate would have it, would finally have her own day "in the sun" 4 years later when she appeared as the plain Jane leading lady of Marty.

Oh, life's wondrous options: Monty and Shelley deal with the consequences

in A Place in the Sun.

Tippi Hedren (right) didn't really know how to react after the success of her first major film, The Birds. On the one hand, she was a bona fide actress now on her way to being a full blown movie star. On the other, the filming process with Alfred Hitchcock, the obsessive director who had discovered and essentially bought the young model, had been a debilitating and back-breaking one. "Sexual Harassment" didn't even begin to describe the abuse that she had suffered at the hands of the Master of Suspense. There were days when Tippi found herself cornered by a sexually demanding Hitch; there were days when birds were literally tied to her with string so that they were forced to remain close to her body for a shot, which led to them pecking and biting at her. Co-star Jessica Tandy was one of many watching in horror as the poor girl wandered from the set to her dressing room covered in bird sh*t. Unfortunately, there was no escape after wrap-- Hitch had Tippi under exclusive contract, which meant she couldn't get work anywhere else. The next torment was set to be Marnie, which included a demeaning rape scene that Tippi was not looking forward to in the slightest. A slight ray of hope entered the horizon when it was mentioned that Grace Kelly would be returning to the screen from her royal sojourn in Monaco to assume to lead role. Tippi was not at all upset that she was being replaced. It was like a Godsend! Unfortunately, politics got in the way, and Grace found herself unable to re-team with her still lovelorn director. Thus, the burden fell on the frail Tippi's shoulders again. Marnie remains a curiosity more than a triumph, though it does possess its merits. Then again, perhaps Grace simply smelled an over-complicated clunker and knew that re-entering the fray was not the best idea. After the film, Tippi underwent an arduous process of extricating herself from Hitch's maniacal control, but her career never took wing the way it should have after The Birds.

Hitch gives Grace a hand. His idolatry of her made him much

easier for her to handle, yet made life with him after her

Hollywood exit traumatic for the actresses to follow.

Barbara Stanwyck (left) had her eyes and ears open all the time for projects that either spoke to her or could serve to enhance her career. She got particularly excited when she learned that the controversial (and lengthy) Ayn Rand novel The Fountainhead was going to be adapted into a film. She was eager to play the role of "Dominique Francon," and when Lauren Bacall dropped out of the project, she campaigned heavily for the role. Contributing factors may have been the leading man-- Gary Cooper-- and the director-- King Vidor-- both of whom she had collaborated with so flawlessly in the past. It turns out that Ayn had insisted on Cooper's casting in the role, which had ousted original candidate Humphrey Bogart and, in effect, Lauren Bacall, who left after Bogie was denied. With the door open, Babs was more than ready to step into the role of the cold, scheming Dominique, whose reserve and isolation is penetrated by Coop's passionate, individualistic architect "Howard Roark." Unfortunately for Babs, an unknown, willowy ingenue with a Southern, scotch-coated drawl was cast in her place: Patricia Neal. Few were certain of the casting decision, including Coop, who saw Pat in early tests and thought that she was dreadful. Must have been early nerves, for Coop certainly warmed to her after filming began. The duo were able to make it the length of filming without giving into temptation, but as soon as the director called "that's a wrap!" they indulged in a lengthy and scandalous affair. Now see: had they cast Babs, they could have avoided that whole catastrophe. (In related, funny news, Coop later admitted to Ayn after his lengthy, heady courtroom speech that, while he had memorized his lines to a T, he had absolutely no idea what he had been talking about).

Coop and Pat embark on a dangerous partnership in The Fountainhead.

Much has been made of Errol Flynn and his tendency toward young ladies. Apparently there was some sort of court case about it... But few know the following story about how life very nearly imitated art. Errol's last major love affair was with the teenaged Beverly Aadland, otherwise known as the "Wood-nymph" (together right). Pushing 50, Errol was a mere fragment of the vibrant, young man he had been during his reign as Hollywood's favorite swashbuckler and ladies' man. Three failed marriages, financial troubles, and a devastating sense of self-loathing and regret only served to enhance his alcohol and drug addictions. On the one hand, he seemed to be a man who desperately wanted to live life to the fullest; on the other, he seemed to be resolutely committed to killing himself. Somehow, he was still working, albeit intermittently, and his relationship with the naive yet seemingly loyal Beverly buoyed his spirits, to perhaps a deluded extent. Stanley Kubrick was coincidentally hunting for actors for his upcoming Lolita, a movie that explored the scandalous obsession and sexual relationship between a middle-aged man and his teenaged step-daughter. To Errol, it seemed like kismet. Not only would he indulge in a role that explored his own demons, but he hoped to star in it with his latest paramour, Beverly, in order to help her own career along. Stanley was intrigued, not with the inexperienced Beverly, but with Errol, who seemed a prime candidate for "Humbert Humbert." It was not to be. Errol passed away before filming ever began, though it is questionable that, in his poor condition, he would have received the role anyway. The parts went instead to James Mason and Sue Lyon, the latter of whom made her film debut in the role of the dangerous nymphet.

The act of painting a woman's toe-nails is often used to exemplify emasculation in film.

James Mason illustrates the point with Sue Lyon in Lolita.

Much has been made of the recent speech Clint Eastwood made at the Republican National Convention. Some stated that he respectably blended his status as an entertainer with the political nature of the event; others said that his oration was clumsy, rambling, and misguided. Spoiler alert: Republicans dug it, Democrats did not. (Don't you just love election time)? Anywho, Clint's big send-off at the conclusion was his most infamous line: "Make my day." The eternal, squinty-eyed pro first delivered this quote through steely teeth in the now iconic role of 'Dirty' Harry Callahan. Dirty Harry (left) was a game changer in the cop drama, which blended realistic investigations with pulp, taut suspense, and an edge of comedy. The result, was pop-cultural history. Yet, another notorious tough guy almost played the most impersonated cop in history: John Wayne. No, that is not a joke.  (I'll give you a minute to recuperate). However, Duke turned the job down, not having confidence in the material nor in himself in the role. After the film went on to great success, getting Clint out from under his cowboy hat with a different holster, Duke had regrets. Clearly, he had missed out on a great opportunity. His solution was to take on a similar role in the film McQ as another vengeful Lieutenant. The results of this film would not be as stellar, and Duke would make but three more films before succumbing to cancer. He went out in a role that better suited him, that of a cowboy in The Shootist. Thus, while Clint won the cop war, Duke still owns the West. I kinda want to hear Duke ask me if I "feel lucky," though...