THE REEL REALS: Gail Patrick

Gail Patrick

Gail Patrick is known for her performances as the snide, straight gal in classic films like My Favorite Wife. As a result, her roles throughout the Golden Studio Era pretty much label her as 'My Favorite Bitch.' Gail was kind of fantastic. She was the catty female on the outside that all girl secretly were on the inside-- the villainous Yang to the Yin of the more sterling leading ladies of the time, like Carole Lombard, Ginger Rogers, and Irene Dunne. While Gail did play the good girl sometimes, in films like the cult classic Murders at the Zoo for example, she hit her stride by playing the dame who's trying to elbow her way to the prize-- generally the man. Gail was an atypical star. Not just because her height, intelligence, and countenance communicated an intimidating inner strength, but because she, as a general rule, wasn't an overly emotive actress. Much more cerebral and business savvy than many of her contemporaries, acting for Gail seemed more like a calculated investment that paid off. She was serious about it, but didn't take it seriously. The glamour was nothing, the fame was nothing, and her integrity and character reacted to these things irreverently. She considered them mere tools of the business and not the self-obsessive realities that too many celebrities get caught up in.

Gail lived a fascinating and multi-faceted life, one in which she attacked her many ambitions-- studying law, starting a children's clothing line, becoming an executive producer for "Perry Mason," (WHAT?!)-- and refused to settle for anything less than everything of which she was capable. Ambitious, beautiful, and well-educated, Gail was a force to be reckoned with, a feminist before her time, and her independent nature is probably partially responsible for her multiple marriages and divorces. I mean, who was really man enough to go toe-to-toe with this diva? While in cinema she remains the girl you hate, in reality she is the girl you love to hate. In the end, at least her characters were honest. They weren't sugar-coated goody-two-shoes with saccharine personalities and fairy tale endings. Gail was the real thing-- a tough broad holding it together and determined to survive this maelstrom of life no matter what it took. What would My Man Godfrey or Stage Door have been without her? Every good story needs a good, bad girl.

DIDJA KNOW: Didja See?

Spencer Tracy and Irene Dunne play lovers split asunder and 
reunited in a spiritual way in A Guy Named Joe. 

Didja ever notice a glaring similarity between a modern movie and an earlier predecessor? Sometimes, the latter-made films are direct remakes; other times, they just bear a strange plot resemblance to earlier fare. I normally discuss this double-take analysis in my "Take One, Two, Three" articles, but today's offering is less in depth. Instead of re-hashing storylines and how they mutate from film to film, I instead offer up a new game of: If You Liked This, You Should Watch This. Since not all of the following original films were hits, it makes one wonder why studios would decide to reinvest in an already failed clunker; since some of the originals were great box-office successes, it makes one wonder why studios would want to desecrate an already perfect vehicle by re-doing it-- sometimes to disastrous results. In any case, here is the latest conglomeration of my congested, media-soaked head. You be the judge:


Angels in the Airfield

Steven Spielberg's film Always was fairly well received upon its 1989 release. An atypical romance with an otherworldly quality, it told the story of a renegade pilot (Richard Dreyfuss) who squelches forest fires. Due to his risky job, his girlfriend (Holly Hunter) is constantly in emotional turmoil with worry over his safety, and rightly so. He goes on one mission too many, and the cost is his life. However, he returns as a spirit, looking over his grieving love and getting mighty jealous when she starts falling for another guy (Ted Baker). An appearance by Audrey Hepburn as a helpful angel (left) also tipped the scales on this one, making it a well-acted, well-crafted love story for adults. BUT...

Didja see A Guy Named Joe? The plot is practically identical! Released in 1943 and directed by Victor Fleming, this film tells the tale of ace WWII bomber pilot (Spencer Tracy) who loses his life in the line of duty, much to his girlfriend Irene Dunne's despair. He is soon back as a guardian angel, who too is forced to watch his young mentor (Van Johnson) as he rises in the ranks as a pilot and falls for his girl. In both versions, the returning guardian learns with bitterness the love he took for granted in his life, overcomes his overzealous penchant for danger, and coaches the new, younger pilot into a better flier. He too overcomes his own personal envy in pushing his mourning girlfriend toward a love that he was unable to fulfill for her himself in life. The later film is admittedly a remake-- though, as 45 years had passed between pictures, few people know it! (Spence and Irene embrace next to Ward Bond, right). 

Two Little Mermaids

In 1984, the fantastical romantic comedy Splash hit theaters thanks to director Ron Howard. The unconventional tale of a young man (Tom Hanks) who falls in love with a mysterious woman (Daryl Hannah, both left)-- who turns out to be the mermaid who saved him from drowning as a child-- was an unlikely sensation that helped seal Hanks's reputation as the comic leading man of his generation. The mermaid, known as Madison, comes to land, sprouts legs, and hides her tail by avoiding water. As she acclimates to human life, she is forced to keep her true identity a secret from the man she loves, but eventually the truth comes out, and the befuddled (and a little grossed out) suitor is left with a harsh decision to make. With the help of his brother (John Candy), he decides that love is the only answer, and he forsakes his life on the land for an eternal swim with Madison. (It goes without saying that a massive suspension of disbelief is necessary to enjoy said picture). BUT...

Didja see Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid? It was produced in 1948 and directed by Irving Pichel. It too tells the unlikely tale of a girl with a tail. (Haha). This time, William Powell is the surprised recipient of aquatic affection, however, he is aware that the girl of his dreams (Ann Blyth) is a fish from the get-go. To boot, he is middle-aged and unhappily married. Hence, when he accidentally catches a mermaid when out fishing on vacation (right), he is both struck dumb and pierced with Cupid's arrow. He takes his prize home, where he moves her from the bathtub to the outdoor coi pond and tries to keep her existence a secret, though his shenanigans increasingly make him look as mad as a hatter to his friends. Though man and fish fall in love, in this case they admit defeat: their two worlds can never be one, and besides, Powell's character needs to go back to his wife and patch all that matrimonial business up. Because of the differences in plot, this is clearly not a remake, but with such an interesting spin on romance (or should I say, "fin"), you can't help but draw a comparison.

Knock Outs

There are a great many films out there surrounding the passion and the pain of athletic combat: Rocky, Cinderella Man, The Fighter, Golden Boy, Warrior, Million Dollar Baby, etc. All of these films have some level of similarity in plot-- the underdog is put through the mill to overcome insurmountable odds and become a champion. Details vary, endings add new interpretations, but they all evoke the emotions of sympathy and aggression in the audience-- hearts with fists-- that makes this genre a continuing, surefire hit-maker at the box-office. The excitement of competition itself is enough to keep audiences coming back for more. Hence, much was made of Darren Aronofsky's recent take on the subject in The Wrestler in 2008. In this film, Mickey Rourke portrays an aging wrestler (left) of the comical yet intense WWF style, who struggles with the decision to give up the ring for a safer, more respectable life. The estranged relationship he shares with his daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) and the complicated and not fully reciprocated attraction he has for a stripper (Marisa Tomei) adds to his personal frustration. At the end, a broken, wreck of a man, he decides that the only place he belongs is in the ring, where he accepts the mask of his caricatured self and faces daily, painful atonement for his sins. The brutally nuanced performance of Rourke brought the film a great deal of attention, and it was hailed as a creative and moving contribution to the genre, BUT...

Didja see Requiem for a Heavyweight? Though this earlier movie by Ralph Nelson (1962) revolves around boxing, the plot is uncannily similar in many ways to The Wrestler. Adapted from a televised production, the film stars Anthony Quinn as the aging boxer Louis "Mountain" Rivera (right) who is clearly on the way out. Battle-worn and suffering from punch-drunk dementia, he too considers surrendering a life of pain in the ring for a more simplistic career-- as a camp counselor. An impossible romance enters his life too with the lovely Grace Miller (Julie Harris), for though her heart goes out to him, she is intimidated by his aggressive presence and too frightened for his safety to truly fall for him. Torn between his manager (Jackie Gleason) and his trainer (Mickey Rooney), Mountain vacillates between his feelings of duty to pay off the former's gambling debts and the latter's concern for his personal safety and support of his retirement. After having his heart broken and humiliating himself in his failed attempts at normal, civilian life, Mountain accepts his fate as a puppet of the ring. He even sacrifices his dignity to do so, sells out, and becomes a gimmicky, cartoon-ish wrestler known as "Big Chief Mountain Rivera." He enters the ring to jeers and laughs, but is too numb to hear them or feel the punches anymore. While different in details, this earlier offering proves that The Wrestler may not have been the super-creative endeavor that we  origianlly assumed.

Re-Count

In 2008, the all-American nice guy Kevin Costner appeared in the film Swing Vote (left) directed by Joshua Michael Stern. In it, he plays Bud Johnson, an immature and under-driven father whose daughter holds the reins of responsibility in their small family. Disappointed by his apathetic approach to life, she tries to vote for him at the latest presidential election in their home state of New Mexico, however, a technological mishap causes his ballot to go uncounted. This minor occurrence causes big waves when it is discovered that NM will hold the deciding vote in the electoral college and-- with a 50/50 tie between the Republican and Democratic candidates-- Bud's un-tallied vote alone will make the national decision. Suddenly swarmed by the media and forced to take a stand for the first time in his life, Bud is politically seduced by both flip-flopping candidates-- played by Kelsey Grammer and Dennis Hopper-- and he finds himself interested and asking questions on behalf of the American people. In the end, he must step up to the plate and make a decision, but the process changes the man he was and makes everyone else question their own political and social stances. Pretty interesting concept. BUT...

Didja see The Great Man Votes of 1939 starring John Barrymore? Directed by Garson Kanin, this film is a nearly identical precursor to Swing Vote. In it, Gregory Vance (Barrymore) is a washed up widower and fallen intellectual who has found solace in alcohol. To his children, he is a sad genius, but to the world, he is a faceless night watchman. His life is turned upside down even further when it is discovered that he is the only registered voter in his district left to solve the latest ballott dilemma. A big mayoral election comes to the fore, and the politicians come calling with their governmental flirtations, trying to win his deciding vote. Just as in the later picture, Vance is forced to remember himself as a man, embrace his duty as a patriot, and emerge as an integral part of his community. He garners a self-respect that has been absent for years, and thus the respect of his children, though their presence in his life is being threatened by un-trusting relatives who want to take them away. Confident for the first time in a long time, Vance fights back the only way he knows how and manipulates the system that is trying to manipulate him, inevitably refusing bribes, turning on the wooing candidates, and making up his own mind. The final victory is a dual one in that he wins back his self respect and his children. Swing Vote (as far as I know) is not an admitted re-make, but the close resemblance of the stories makes it and The Great Man Votes at least fraternal twins.

Several Brides for One Brother

In 1999, Gary Sinyor directed the romantic comedy The Bachelor, (no, not the TV show). In it, Chris O'Donnell plays Jimmie Shannon opposite Renee Zellweger as Anne Arden. Jimmie and Anne have been dating for some time, and while all of their friends get married around them, Jimmie finds it difficult to commit. Begrudgingly, he admits that maybe it is time for him too to settle down, but when he proposes to Anne with the phrase "sh*t or get off the pot," she gives him the heave-ho despite her love for him. Unfortunately, Jimmie discovers immediately afterward that his grandfather has died and left him a $100 million fortune-- wth the slight draw-back that in order to collect, he must be married by 6:05pm on his 30th birthday... which is tomorrow. Jimmie tries to win back Anne, but she's still miffed, so he is forced to go through his little, black book and approach any ex that will have him-- but his proposal skills are so poor that none will. When word gets out that he is to inherit a fortune, suddenly he finds himself attacked by every woman within driving distance and literally chased down the street by thousands of females in wedding dresses (left). Long story short, he and Anne reunite, but not before he has learned that it is she he wants and not the cash, which is thankful, since they have run out of time. At least they have each other and are rich in love. Cute enough, BUT...

Didja see Buster Keaton's classic Seven Chances??? Released in 1925, this hysterical hit of visual mayhem revolves around Buster's James Shannon, who is a struggling broker and romantic underdog. Suddenly, he is alerted to the fact that his grandfather has died, and he will inherit $7 million if he is married by 7pm on his 27th birthday... today! Uh-oh. He quickly proposes to his girl, Ruth Dwyer, but she turns him down when his proposal insinuates that he has to marry any girl he can find and not her in particular. Offended, she leaves him to his typical bad luck, aided only by his partner and the lawyer who initially broke the news. He proposes to every girl in sight, but as he is not exactly the prototypical ladies' man, he is consistently turned down. His pals line up seven girls for him to propose to, but still no luck. While he takes refuge at the church, unbeknown to him, the word of his upcoming fortune is leaked. Awakening from a nap, he is suddenly surrounded by frothing females in wedding gowns (right), but he is too overcome and intimidated to deal with the situation. He runs, the ladies take chase, but he finds salvation in Ruth's arms-- she has forgiven him. The two are married at the stroke of 7:00 and live happily, and richly, ever after. Since Keaton and O'Donnell's characters share the same name, it is pretty clear that the later film is a remake. While both are entertaining, there is no match for Keaton, so if you are going to see either, see Seven Chances!

Lon-a-Thon

Since I start to implode if I don't mention Lon Chaney at least once a month, I have a few past-present film comparisons to go over in relation to his work. For starters: Didja see Ace of Hearts? Produced in 1921 and directed by Wallace Worseley, the plot involves a group of insurgents who, having for various reasons become disenchanted with the court system, take matters of retribution into their own hands in the name of justice. They choose various subjects, whom they deem despicable, and engage in a game of chance in order to decide which member of their tribe should kill the immoral infidel. Another member, Lilith, played by Leatrice Joy, deals from a stack of cards. The man who receives the Ace of Hearts is the chosen assassin (left). In the midst of the latest caper, a love triangle ensues. Lon's Mr. Farrallone is in love with Lilith, but so too is Mr. Forrest (John Bowers), whom she, of course, chooses. Chaos follows, with Lon as per usual sacrificing himself for his beloved, while the obvious questions of right and wrong and the hypocrisy of man are brought to the fore. BUT, you may recognize the storyline in 1983's The Star Chamber, in which Michael Douglas joins a band of fellow judges who are determined to bring justice to the criminals that they were unable to punish in a court of law. They meet secretly, dole out verdicts, and condemn men to death by their own means. Both films beg the question, What is justice?

Didja see Tell It to the Marines? In 1926, George W. Hill directed this masterpiece with Lon starring as the intimidating Sergeant O'Hara (right) who has been tasked with bringing latest enlistee Skeet Burns (William Haines) up to snuff. Hard-boiled, rugged, and self-sacrificing, O'Hara consistently butts heads with Burns over the latter's insubordination and their shared affection for base nurse Norma Dale (Eleanor Boardman). In the end, Skeet overcomes his own selfishness, toughens up, and fights alongside his mentor in a pivotal battle, proving once and for all that he is a man, and thus, a man worthy of Norma's love. After the younger man has served valiantly, O'Hara bids him and Norma adieu, and continues on, training the next chapter of weak enlistees. In this film, Lon forever set the unsurpassed bar on military tough guys that would be frequently repeated in various films, from Full Metal Jacket to Stripes. BUT, you may notice an uncanny similarity between the plot lines of Tell it to the Marines and 1982's An Officer and A Gentleman. Minus the love triangle, they are very similar in that Lou Gosset, Jr's Sergeant has to train and mature the headstrong and crooked new soldier, Zack Mayo (Richard Gere). Both films present the strange, macho love-hate relationship between the superior officer and his trainee and the arduous process the underling must go through to embrace maturation, responsibility, and eventually love, (in the latter film via Debra Winger).

Didja notice how many of Lon's early gangster films centered around Chinatown? In Outside the Law (1920), his dastardly character of Black Mike Sylva cooks up trouble for fellow crooks Dapper Bill Ballard (Wheeler Oakman) and Molly Madden (Priscilla Dean) in this neck of the woods. In addition, Lon makes his first appearance as a Chinaman in a dual role as Ah Wing, thanks to director Tod Browning. ~ In The Shock, Lon portrays Wilse Dilling, a crippled con, again from Chinatown (left), forced to do some undercover work for Queen Ann (Christine Mayo). He switches locales to a small town, where he consequently falls in love with good girl Gertrude Hadley (Virginia Valli) and changes his ways. Turning his back on the criminal life, he returns to the dirty underbelly of Chinatown only to save his beloved's life. ~ In addition, the gang of cons in The Miracle Man were assembled from Chinatown. Lon, of course, plays Frog in this picture, which-- thanks to his abilities of contortion as a salvaged cripple-- would be his big breakthrough. ~ And finally, one of the working titles for Lon's cop drama While the City Sleeps, in addition to "Easy Money," was "Chinatown." ~ BUT, did this influence the eternal movie on this geographical subject, 1974's Chinatown starring Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway? Director Roman Polanski's take on the city presents just as many diabolical components as these Lon predecessors, including corruption, violence, and incest. What is it about this place that brings out the worst in people, anyway? Whether in NYC or L.A, early Chinatown comes across as a today's Compton!

See what happens? Ya' go to Chinatown and ya' get Jack'd (aka Nicholson).

HISTORY LESSON: Hollywood Suicide

A title card from The Flapper, which ironically appears after Olive Thomas's character decides 

not to kill herself. This single slide could serve as the explanation many have

 as to why Olive's death was not a suicide but an accident-- 

she loved life too much to let go... Or did she?

As Halloween creeps closer, I thought it relevant to dip into the more macabre side of Hollywood. Since All Hallows Eve is embraced as a public indulgence in the sometimes very thin line between life and death, it seems a perfect holiday for La La Land. Hollywood itself, sometimes appearing as a glorious Heaven and others as a torturous Hell, has birthed multiple superstars but has too killed its own children. The most depressing and pitiable of these fallen angels are those who choose to take their own lives. In all cases, the deaths are shocking, unexpected, and heartbreaking, but there are a few that are so unbelievable that, even when given direct reason or motive, one cannot wrap his or her mind around the tragedy; at least I can't. Olive Thomas remains the first official poster girl for the inexplicable, self-inflicted death, which to this day remains debatable. One can continue to turn over the evidence, but the varying testimonies of husband Jack Pickford, the memories of friends, and the final conclusions of medical professionals all produce contradictory evidence. Whether suicide or accident, the outcome is still devastating and Olive still a victim. Journeying down this same vein of the unfathomable and unreasonable disappearance of some of our brightest stars, I've compiled the following collection of some of the most bizarre and yet little discussed suicides in Hollywood History. Years after their shattered ends, one can still cry "Why, oh, why?" to the Hollywood Hills and receive no answer but a pained echo for the lost souls, volleying without end.


LUPE VELEZ:

Lupe was branded the "Mexican Spitfire" due to her feisty, sensual, uncontainable spirit and her obvious heritage. Born in San Luis Potosi, she-- like Dolores Del Rio and Anna May Wong-- paved the way in the industry for "ethnic" girls, bringing her beauty, fire, and passion to the screen with full force. After a stint in vaudeville, Lupe landed in Hollywood where she made unprecedented, scene-stealing appearances in films opposite Douglas Fairbanks (The Gaucho) and Lon Chaney (Where East is East). The girl didn't just have "something," she had something indescribable. Who else in the history of cinema has outshone the Man of a Thousand Faces? Intensely sexual with a temper to match, she had a notorious romance with Gary Cooper-- whose placid demeanor was probably the only one who could withstand her raging bouts of anger-- and a failed marriage to an equal wild man, Johnny Weissmuller. Her career thrived through the silent era, where she gained a reputation as a comedienne with punch and panache, but the coming of talkies allegedly inhibited her career due to her obvious accent-- taking her out of the running of more acceptable, all-American leading ladies-- and later accusations of communist support dampened her public appeal. In her thirties, she did Broadway, returned to her native Mexico-- where she was very popular-- and landed back in Hollywood where she fell into the arms of actor Harald Maresch. Then, on Dec. 13, 1944, Lupe was gone, having taken her own life with the aid of Seconal. She was but 36-years-old. The reason for her shocking end was given by herself in a suicide note: "To Harald, may God forgive you and forgive me too but I prefer to take my life away and our baby's before I bring him with shame, or killing him, Lupe." The reason, therefore, for her desperate final act, was personal shame over the fact that Harald had gotten her pregnant and refused to marry her, but even in this there is controversy. 

Lupe may have gone to convent school as a child, but she was far from conventional. A vibrant, caution-be-damned kind of girl, it is doubtful that she killed herself to protect her own reputation and save her child from a life of ridicule.  The Lupe the world knew and loved would have most certainly socked anyone in the nose who so much as looked at her child the wrong way. There must be more to the story, and in the end it seems more likely that it was Lupe's own impulsive, defiant behavior that killed her. Perhaps after a lifetime of broken hearts, a lover's refusal of marriage became the last straw. One could argue that she killed herself more to hurt Harald for his betrayal or to simply give one last eff-you to the world that she had considered so cruel. Adela Rogers St. Johns would state that Harald had every intention of marrying Lupe, but simply refused to lie about the date of the nuptials in order to make their child the product of marriage and not conversely marriage the product of the child. If this is true, it makes the suicide even more head-scratching. More puzzling is the speculation that Harald was totally innocent in the debacle and that the child was that of Gary Cooper, with whom Lupe had maintained an on-again off-again affair. The most commonly accepted theory is that Lupe was not a well woman. Her vacillations in temperament indicate that she would have been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder had such a disease been recognized in her day. Friends too reported that, despite her bravado, in which she attacked life with chin out and up, Lupe had great pain and melancholy. On rare occasions, she would open up about her life's disappointments and what she felt was the absence of real love. Her death scene is too debatable because of the way it has been painted. Some state that she was found lying in a bed of white satin, completely composed and beautiful, the way she herself had dramatically staged it. Others attest that she had a violent reaction to the Seconal and died with her head in the toilet, drowning to death. Both are debatable: suicide is never a glossy affair, but one doubts that anyone could "drown" in a toilet, given that the weight of the human body would, if unconscious, naturally slump to the floor. The only hard core truth we can rely on is that Lupe left us all too soon, and whatever reason she had for taking her own life was not reason enough.


GEORGE SANDERS:

Talk about unexpected... The Sultan of Snark and fastest s-wordsman of witty barbs taking his own life? No. Not possible. George Sanders, on screen and off, seemed to be the smartest of them all and ten steps ahead of everyone else. Sitting comfortably on a pedestal of intellect, he looked down his nose at a world of neandrethals and gloated at his own superiority. We counted on his smirking charm to add layers of humor and biting edge to films like The Picture of Dorian Gray and All About Eve, and with every opportunity to impress us with his entrancing voice-- one put to use as Shere Khan in The Jungle Book-- he succeeded. But this Englishman too must have been hiding a secret behind his superior jabs and polished deviance, for his life ended in April of 1972 by his own hand. Even more startling is the fact that he was well into his sixties when he committed this personal atrocity. One thinks of suicide as being the haven for discontented and bruised youths who have given up hope; apparently we never mature past our own insecurities and need for escape. After four marriages, one of which was to Zsa Zsa Gabor, George dwindled into ill health. The aid of alcohol certainly didn't help things, and in his later years he had become mentally unstable, experiencing moments of complete delirium, which resulted in angry outbursts. Losing his mental faculties-- the man whose shrewd mind was his key asset-- was something he could not bear. When he was unable to play his piano, he solved the problem by chopping it to bits. He wandered aimlessly, landing in Barcelona, where he finally said farewell as only he would, with annoyance and condescension: "Dear World, I am leaving because I am bored. I feel I have lived long enough. I am leaving you with your worries in this sweet cesspool. Good luck." His drug of choice was Nembutal. What remains so indiscernible is that a sharp man such as himself could suddenly become the butt of life's joke.


CHARLES BOYER:

The ultimate French lover, Charles Boyer could inspire amore in even the lowest of skunks-- which he did when Looney Tunes modeled Pepe le Pew after him. With unforgettable performances ranging from superb malevolence in Gaslight to pious romanticism in All This, and Heaven Too, his acting talents were enhanced by a single raised eyebrow that drew women to him like moths to a flame. In his private life, Charles maintained his suavity but had much less ego. Fairly shy but amiable, he was entrancing for reasons aside from his looks-- which was necessary since he was prematurely balding, short, and had a bit of a gut. Originally a student of philosophy and a fluent speaker of five languages, the equally religious man wed his only wife in 1934 and remained faithful to her for the next 44 years (although, James Cagney--also a loyal husband-- would recall overhearing ol' Charles putting the moves on a young actress on one of their WWII morale boosting tours). The classy Irene Dunne named him as one of her two favorite leading men, (Cary Grant being the other), and he was able to befriend even the intensely private Maurice Chevalier. However, despite a prosperous career and happy marriage, darkness too was lurking over Charles's shoulder. After losing his son, Michael-- who shot himself either by accident or suicide on his twenty-first birthday-- Charles lost his beloved wife Pat nearly fourteen years later in 1978. Two days after this tragedy, Charles took his own life, again with the aid of Seconal. It is believed that he did so because the great romantic could not bear life without his paramour, but there had to be more cracks in a man than a broken heart to spur on such a desperate act. Whatever pains he felt in his personal life, he kept hidden, therefore giving a performance that far outshone anything he did on the silver screen. Without Pat as the glue to hold him together against his demons, death must have seemed the only out, but the results still make one shake the head in consternation.


MARGARET SULLAVAN:

Everyone's favorite girl-next-door ruled the silver screen in roles that showcased both her warmth and resilience. Close friends would be impressed with these qualities in her private life, including Jimmy Stewart who was head-over-heels for her in his early career. Maggie was a fighter, and proved it by overcoming a muscular weakness that prevented her from walking when she was a child. Rebellious in spirit, she overcame this malady and grew into a tomboy who shrugged off familial disapproval to pursue a career in dance and theater. When they cut her off financially, she paid her own way, making it all the way to Hollywood and cementing herself as a leading lady with grace and gumption. One of her most remarked upon qualities was her voice, which did not ring out clear as a bell, like so many young ingenues, but was instead deep and lush. Few knew that this was because she had a hearing problem diagnosed as otosclerosis: only by speaking at a deeper register could she even hear herself. As she aged, her condition worsened, which deeply affected her psychologically, as did her divorce from third husband Leland Hayward. After her three children forsook her to live with their father, Margaret was crushed. Separated from her family, she felt alienated and it gave her great pain to see the lives of her loved ones fall apart-- all of her children possessed her same rebellious spirit if not her focused drive. She became increasingly depressed, finding it difficult to sleep, and spent a great deal of time on her own. Though she continued to work, her only real companion seemed to be the foggy static that used to serve as noise in her increasingly isolated and lonely life. After spending time briefly in a mental institution, she was found home in bed suffering a Barbituate overdose on New Years Day 1960. It was too late to save her life. It continues to be argued whether the death was accidental or purposeful, but examining the evidence it seems that Maggie's flinty strength finally succumbed to her emotional abandonment. To make things even more tragic, two of her other children-- Bridget and Bill-- would later commit suicide, continuing the sad legacy. Only daughter Brooke remained to pen the novel of her family's breakdown: Haywire. Watching Maggie's movies today, she remains one of the least likely candidates for such a death, yet there the hard truth lies-- etched in stone. 


LOU TELLEGEN:

Lou is a rarely remembered film personality. If he is recalled at all, it is only by history buffs who know him as the one-time husband of screen siren and opera star Geraldine Farrar. A handsome man, he clearly had something in the way of charm, since he was able to woo some of the biggest and most untouchable women in show business, including the illustrious Sarah Bernhardt in addition to Farrar. Charm also helped him in his acting career, where it has been reported that what he lacked in talent he made up for in personality and the ability to forge the correct "relationships." He got his start on the stage after seducing Bernhardt, who cast the young man as her leading man. He had no experience and at the time had just been released from prison. His drive for success was perhaps propelled by his status as an "illegetimate child." The legitimacy that he lacked in infancy, he clearly sought to attain in adulthood through prosperity. His ambition revealed itself in his first marriage-- to a countess. The name of his auto-biography, therefore, seems befitting: Women Have Been Kind. With his good looks, he clearly knew how to play the game to suit his needs, but after three failed marriages he still had not found what he was looking for. Thrown into the mix was his dwindling career, which included stage plays and film roles (including 3 Bad Men), often playing unsavory characters with an agenda. Things took a turn when his handsome face was damaged in a fire, thus leaving him without his oft played Ace. By 1934, he too was suffering from Cancer (a fact that was kept from him) and bankruptcy. With no career, no woman to save him, and a lifetime of mistakes and lost opportunities, Lou at fifty-one had nothing. This makes his death not necessarily surprising, as his sad state was obvious to those around him; what makes his suicide shocking is its execution. Lou's method was masochistic: standing before a mirror, he stabbed himself with a pair of sewing scissors... seven times. Legend has it that this was done while he was surrounded by newspaper clippings of his past glories, which is true figuratively if not literally. 

The mysterious and saddening ends of W.S. Van Dyke, Max Linder, Phyllis Haver, Brian Keith, Everett Sloane, etc. could be added to this never-ending list. The question is, is Hollywood really a major contributing culprit in their deaths, or does living larger-than-life simply project a more intense version of universal truths? Clearly, when you have climbed higher than the rest, you have farther to fall, and for those who have once tasted ambrosia on Mount Olympus to be left with only memories of past glories, a quiet, solitary life does not seem as inviting as the eternal silence of death-- which will shut out their unfulfilled desires with their sorrows. If Hollywood were erased from the equation, it seems that all of these stories would have ended the same way, for it does not appear that the loss of fame tipped the scales against Margaret Sullavan or Charles Boyer as it more fully did to Tellegan. Why is it then that this city still seems to be to blame, at least partly? Life in show-business, so rich, passionate, and dramatic seems to induce equally dramatic ends. Just as plot-twists give unsuspecting film viewers a thrilling whip-lash, tabloid truths have too taken us for a loop when things don't end the way we expect them to. Perhaps these deaths seem more brutal because we never expect our stars to die at all-- even when they do die, they don't. Olive Thomas still uproariously mugs at us in her remaining masterpiece, The Flapper-- a film in which she ironically backs out of a half-hearted suicide attempt-- and she has been gone for nearly one-hundred years. This haunting quality only adds to the Hollywood mystique: light and shadows, glamour and debauchery, flecks of gold and celluloid dust. For every lost life, thousands of movie fans are born to take its place; to continue carrying the torch for lights snuffed out by the cool hand of death.

MENTAL MONTAGE: Use Your Clout

The ultimate film about the entertainment "cat" race, Stage Door:

Kate Hepburn, Lucille Ball, and Ginger Rogers.

Clawing your way to the top of the entertainment ladder is no easy feat. After completing the seemingly insurmountable task, which not all are able to do, one can either be left with a deluded feeling of euphoria, which erases all memory of the aforementioned climb, or one can continue to bear the cuts, bruises, and war wounds of his battle, which serve as daily reminders of his lengthy diligence and hard work. The former group can at times get lost in the twisted web of fame and fortune, drifting into the annoying abyss of entitlement and egotism. This outcome is rarely good. The latter group, however, usually maintains a devout gratitude for their good fortune and thus a dignified sort of humility. This creates a better path, one possessing clear-headedness, good business sense, and a compassion for the underdog. In the history of Hollywood, there are several tales of various stars sticking their necks out for other struggling artists-- using their "clout" as it were-- to help someone in a position from which they themselves have fortunately evolved. These instances of professional aid are at times minute, but the effect is always profound to the object in need, who will forever remember a small moment of kindness that-- if he or she was really lucky-- changed everything.

When Lucille Ball was still making the rounds at various studios, she landed a contract at RKO, where she primarily wound up in featured roles and bit parts. Despite the fact that, as far as the studio was concerned, she was just another one of the dime a dozen hopefuls, she was able to ingratiate herself to different people on the lot by being forever professional, completely willing, and incredibly funny. Hard work was not something that she ever had a problem with. Perhaps fellow nose-to-the-grindstone actress Katharine Hepburn took note of this. The two didn't have much a friendship, for Kate was higher on the acting echelon and being primed for stardom (in constant competition with another RKO leading lady, Ginger Rogers), but the duo would come into direct contact one fateful day-- which, coincidentally, could have been catastrophic for Lucy. Lucy was in the makeup chair, being prepped for yet another publicity photo to help test/boost her appeal, when all of a sudden, she was unceremoniously ushered away to make room for Hepburn, who was being readied for her daily shoot on Mary of Scotland (in wardrobe, left). Hepburn, through no fault of her own, took precedence over Lucy's cosmetic needs: Mary was a huge project for the studio. Lucy, pursing her lips, made her way into the next room, only to realize that she had left her tooth caps behind. Trying not to make a fuss or disturb "the Queen," Lucy tried to flag down the beautician who was working on Kate. She waved her arms at him through a dividing window, but to no avail. Though he saw her, he directly snubbed her flailing and continued with his work. Insulted, her temper grew red-hot, until she threw a steaming coffee pot at him! Unfortunately, the pot hit the table only to splatter all over Kate and her regalia. Lucy's eyes surely bulged as she began to panic! With Kate's dress dirtied with brown coffee spots, the shooting for the day couldn't be done and the studio was out thousands of dollars. Yet, when the top dogs came for blood, Kate stood by Lucy and refused to blame her for the incident. She used what little power she had to diffuse the situation instead of engaging in the expected diva-temper-tantrum. Lucy was also aided by Lela Rogers, Ginger's mother, who had been giving her acting lessons at the studio's behest. Lela believed that Lucy was one of the more promising young hopefuls and made this known to the enraged higher ups. Because of these two ladies, Lucy's job was saved-- temporarily. Interestingly, though her time at RKO would not last, she was there long enough to appear in Stage Door with both Hepburn and Rogers.

After RKO, Lucy would have help from another lady of the screen. Struggling to find work, and being told over and over again that her time was past-- that there was nowhere for a woman in her thirties to go in her career but down-- Lucy was having trouble holding onto her dream. Her self-confidence was at a bottom low, which was effecting her mentally and physically. She had even developed a stutter. Out of nowhere, she couldn't get through the most normal of sentences without breaking into stunted syllables. Just as suddenly, Olivia de Havilland (right) entered the picture. The two were not pals, barely having exchanged more than the usual "Hello, how are yous" at various parties and social affairs, but for some reason Olivia had taken a liking to Lucy. Perhaps she saw in the woman a another version of herself-- a fellow female fighter. As such, when word reached her that the funny, bubbly red head was on a downward spiral, she stepped in. She told her agent, Kurt Frings, to take Lucy on as a client and help to turn her career around. She just knew that the girl had "it" and only needed the right project to reach the stardom she deserved. Since no one said "No" to O de H-- a lesson Jack Warner learned all too well-- Frings agreed and added the stunned Lucy to his roster of clients. In a whirl, Lucy was still a nervous wreck when she began shooting on her first Frings induced project, Lover Come Back, opposite George Brent. Yet, she pulled it together, and once the cameras started rolling, she lost the stutter and regained her swagger. She remained eternally grateful to Olivia for her helping hand. It didn't turn out to be Lucy's big break, but it did help her get one step closer to success and kept her afloat during a confusing and back-breaking time.

Husband Desi Arnaz had also received a little help in his early career from none other than fellow crooner Bing Crosby. With Bing (left), judging from various accounts, you either loved him or hated him. Desi was one of the lucky ones who caught him on a good night. A very good night. Desi was a struggling musician touring with Xavier Cugat and his band, for which he played the guitar. Their itinerary eventually took the troupe to Saratoga, where Bing happened to be in attendance. Bing must have been impressed with Desi's playing, because he gleefully introduced himself-- in Spanish no less-- to the starstruck young man. Very friendly, and perhaps aided by a little too much liquor, "Bing-o" got congenial quickly and started asking the tongue-tied Cuban what he was earning for his talents. Desi responded with the sad truth: a measly $30/week. Bing, who knew Xavier, suddenly became Desi's champion. "That cheap bastard!" he roared. "Come on! Let's get you a raise!" He took Desi by the arm and the two marched right up to Cugat. Bing demanded that Cugat up the ante on Desi's paycheck. After being placed on the spot by such a huge superstar, Cugat was forced to agree... With one stipulation: that Bing perform a song with the band that night. Bing agreed, and Desi got his raise. Soon enough, ol' Dizzy had the money and confidence to tour with his own band, which inched him closer to Hollywood and his soul mate, Lucy.

In 1943, Van Johnson was just another struggling actor. Minor roles and extra work were the daily grind, until through a stroke of luck, he found himself cast in a supporting role in a major motion picture: A Guy Named Joe. Van was ecstatic! This could be his big break-- the opportunity of a lifetime. Enjoying his good fortune, he was out driving with friends Keenan and Eve Wynn (Van's future wife, but that's another story) when he was broadsided by another car. It was a serious accident, which left him badly injured. Very badly: a metal plate had to be put in his head! (In his future film work, you can see the noticeable scar). This tragedy couldn't have come at a worse time. His role as Ted Randall in the upcoming film was in jeopardy, for he needed extensive time to recuperate. Victor Fleming was put in the unfortunate position of looking for a replacement, until two angels came out of the wings. Both Irene Dunne and Spencer Tracy were impressed with Van and believed he was perfect for the role, and they went to bat for him (all three in the finished film, right). Through much persuasion, they convinced Victor and the studio to postpone until Van was completely healed, promising that his performance would help to make the picture a hit. The big wigs surprisingly listened. It turns out that Van, despite the conflicting evidence, was a lucky man, and the film helped to skyrocket him to Stardom. His accident turned out to be a pain and a pleasure, for due to his injury, he was unable to serve in the military during WWII. As one of the few fellas left at home while other stars went off to battle, his capable leading man potential made him a top box-office star. Thanks to Irene and Spence, he had had his breakthrough and would never look back.

Sometimes, the scuffle for a fellow comrade becomes more than a professional courtesy. It's personal. This is something that Betsy Blair knew all too well. Married to the triple threat actor/dancer/singer Gene Kelly, her own career took a back-seat to his, especially after he found success in Hollywood with his breakout role in For Me and My Gal. Betsy didn't mind. She was fine with playing the role of the supportive spouse and loving mother and putting her own career on hold (see happy family, left). A talented actress and dancer herself, she did make the intermittent film but never achieved the same success or notoriety as her husband. At least, not the same kind of notoriety. During the "red scare," Betsy found herself the focus of the HUAC witch hunts. Though not a communist, her leftist politics, outspoken position on African American rights, and her part in the SAG anti-discrimination committee landed her on the blacklist. Her husband, Gene, who was equally liberally minded if not as outspoken, was safe from the same attack because of his growing box-office appeal. Seeing his wife so mistreated and outcast was difficult, to say the least. Her sadness enraged him, particularly when the role of Clara in Marty-- which he thought she would be perfect for-- was kept out of reach due to the current political tide. Tired of seeing his wife held down, Gene marched into studio head Dore Schary's office and gave him an ultimatum: let Betsy off the hook and give her the role, or Gene would simply stop coming to work! This was a bold move and could have quite easily gotten him into legal trouble for breach of contract, or worse, fired and blacklisted himself. However, Gene Kelly's name on the marquee meant guaranteed money, so Dore took the bait. Betsy landed the role of a lifetime in Marty, which would be the most memorable of her career, and received an Oscar nomination for her heart-wrenching performance. Sadly, this would prove to be one of the last happy moments in the Gene-Betsy marriage, which finally collapsed under the tension two years later. Yet, however the relationship may have ended, Betsy would always speak admiringly of her first husband, his courage, and the bold move that deepened her love and respect for him.