THE REEL REALS: Blanche Sweet

Blanche Sweet

Blanche Sweet was a powerhouse female player in the silent era of cinema, whose onscreen nature seemed in perfect keeping with her name-- which was not an invention, apart from the fact that Blanche was her middle name. Her great beauty and graceful demeanor made the camera immediately fall in love with her, and the American public would follow suit. Her talent as an actress had been long cultivated by treading the boards from her very infancy as an actress and dancer. This in conjunction with her iron guts and angelic presence made her a shoe-in for Biograph and its leading director: D.W. Griffith.

While younger than some of Griffith's other leading ladies-- Mary Pickford and Lillian Gish among them-- Blanche's startling maturity often led to her being cast in more mature roles. While a fairly petite woman, Blanche always came across as large, filling the screen with her charisma and poignant emotional articulation. She was, therefore, not one of Griffith's standard little-girl women but a woman full stop. Perhaps this is why, after participating in many of his poetic shorts, she was selected to star in his first feature-length film, "Judith of Bethulia" (1914). Blanche would migrate to Paramount and continue her successful career working with other big time directors like Cecil B. DeMille ("The Warrens of Virginia") and Marshall Neilan ("Tess of the D'Urbervilles,")-- with whom she would enjoy a scandalous affair, which led to marriage, which led to divorce. (God love him, "Mickey" was never one for moderation, in drink or in women).

Blanche would make a triumphant transfer into the Talkies, particularly with her highly praised performance in "Show Girl in Hollywood," but she surprisingly retired from the screen to return to theatre, later doing some work on Radio and even Television. However, her post-silent career was not as successful, and she allegedly had to take a job at a department store at one point, her days in the idol sun forgotten by the world that had once adored her. Luckily, with the rediscovery of her films and the advent of TV and home video, Blanche's power once again holds sway over those blessed enough to witness her Sweet talent.

THE REEL REALS: Anna May Wong

Anna May Wong

Anna May Wong was a Hollywood deviant in every sense of the word. She defied the preconceived movie star prototype and surprised studios and the public alike with her automatic allure. However, she forever was forced to balance herself upon a tenuous beam of acceptance, both socially and personally. Shunned by prejudice in her home country of America, she was also slandered by the Chinese for being a "whore," otherwise known as an actress. Upon a visit to the nation of her forefathers, she was once pummeled with stones by an angry crowd. While she fortunately had more fans worldwide than villains, her choice to define her own life in her own terms would forever make her an outcast. The price of her independence would strangely be her liberty.

Anna's entry in film would be in the role of the featured servant girl or concubine. Naturally, her heritage would keep her from receiving leading roles or top billing in her projects. However, slowly but surely, her performances in larger supporting roles opposite big time stars like Lon Chaney and Douglas Fairbanks, and her alliance with director/lovers like Tod Browning and Marshall Neilan, would give her the opportunity to showcase her talents. The Toll of the Sea, The Thief of Bagdad, Peter Pan, Mr. Wu, and Piccadilly gave her increasing exposure to the audiences who fell in love with her almost spiritual essence. Her beauty was marked with an intelligence and profound depth that made her utterly fascinating to watch. As an outsider, she was able to move about as a free agent, deemed independent and often dangerous. She had a wisdom that was effective and even spellbinding, often distracting from her more popular Caucasian co-stars. 

She went to Europe to seek more opportunities and had some luck, returning to the states for talkies like the classic Shanghai Express, but despite her magnetic personality, she would always hit a brick wall of bigotry. She was never allowed to fulfill her total potential because of her race. Roles, like that of "O'Lan" in The Good Earth, went to white actresses like Luise Rainer, and censorship kept her from being given leading roles of her own. A failed attempt at TV and an attraction to alcohol-- a popular tool for many in burying sorry-- would prematurely end her career and her life. She passed away from a heart-attack at 56. Now looking back on her performances, she looked even then like a ghost-- a beautiful, haunting image from another place, another plain of consciousness, whispering tales and truths that many of us are still not open-minded enough to absorb.

HALLOWEEN SPOOKTACULAR III

Mary prepares for the Holidays...

This year's batch of devilish dollops to whet your seasonal appetite fall into the category of "Psychic Stress." More than one illustrious celebrity has rubbed elbows with a preternatural force, tangled with a daunting premonition, or had a profound supernatural revelation that left him or her a little worse for the wear. These moments of human and spiritual meeting do not consistently end in profound terror, but a brush with the dark side of existence is never easy to shake off. Curiosity may not always kill the cat, but it definitely leaves a scratch or two. Here are a few members of the Hollywood Haunted:

Mary Pickford left a lasting impression on Hollywood. In fact, so strong was her presence, that more than one witness claims that she continued to hang around her former abode-- Pickfair-- after her death. The fact that she had lengthy conversations with her deceased ex-husband, Douglas Fairbanks, while she was bedridden late in her own life makes one wonder whether she was simply losing her mind or talking to the actual ghost of her beloved. She was definitely a woman who had trouble letting go. Interested in the supernatural realm during her own life, Mary would have more than one spooky encounter with the other side. One would give her the chills. Another... had a different effect.

As a woman who always liked being "in the know," Mary (left) liked to have a plan. She always had her bases covered. Unfortunately, not all in life is spelled out for the living. You have to make it up as you go. A type-A kind of gal like Mary had problems with this. Patience was one thing; being ignorant of the unknown was far too daunting and left her vulnerable. As such, she decided to confer with fortune tellers from time to time, just to keep her abreast of what was to come, not to mention quell her loneliness. She often had her tea-leaves read. This way, she knew when something "wicked" was coming along, and she was also able to take peace in the fact that something joyous was approaching. One particular day-- June 11, 1939 to be exact-- Mary's Irish maid was asked by her miniature employer to  scrutinize the remnants of her tea cup. The maid complied and made the following revelation from the dilapidated leaves: "I see someone stretched out lifeless... He is close to you, and he is not close to you. He is either dying or dead, but I don't see you crying." The next day, the body of Owen Moore, Mary's first and ex-husband, was found lying dead as a doornail on his kitchen floor. He had been there undiscovered for two days. (Pause for Mary's gulp).

Mary may not have been too upset over Owen's demise, as the two had long since parted-- and not on glowing terms-- but she was deeply grieved by the death of her good friend Marshall Neilan (right) when he passed away in 1958 due to throat cancer. (Coincidentally, he had been staying at the Motion Picture Country House, an establishment for former stars that Mary had helped establish-- one of her many charities). Losing her long-time friends in droves, Mary seemed to be outlasting everyone. The world she had once known was quickly disappearing, and the life she currently had seemed empty without her once trusted companions to reminisce with. That's why it meant so much to her when Mickey popped up from beyond the grave to give her a reassuring "wink" of sorts. She was part of a very small pack who had been invited to attend Mickey's wake at the Knickerbocker Hotel, where an open beer waited at the end of the bar bearing the tag: "Reserved for Mickey Neilan." He was a humorist to the end... and after. See, Mary was deeply grieved and found this last wise-crack in poor taste, so she opted not to attend the wake. But, when she tried to leave the funeral and head for the cemetery instead, her car died. Mary had the sneaking suspicion that Mickey was playing one last prank and begging her to have one last drink with him. She smiled to herself, caught a cab, and hit the Knickerbocker at his request.

Bebe Daniels (left) was another silent film beauty who was directly responsible for the advancement of cinema as a reliable art form. Co-starring with such luminaries as Rudolph Valentino and Gloria Swanson, Bebe's reputation as a professional actress and generous woman made her universally adored. To fans, she was like a gift from the heavens: a star. Bebe too would receive a "gift," and it would leave her simultaneously shaken and grateful. See, Bebe had a bit of what is known as a "lead foot." In fact, she once had to serve a jail term when she was caught speeding (yet again) in Orange County. A spirited girl, somewhat reckless, it was clear that despite her jovial, good-natured demeanor, she was headed for trouble if she didn't start paying attention. Aside from her automobile inclinations, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the girl, who was able to make everyone from Harold Lloyd to Jack Dempsey fall for her. She didn't stress; she didn't fret. Until... she had a dream. Adela Rogers St. Johns would recall the story: Bebe confided that one night, she had a strange but peaceful dream about a deceased couple that she had known. She came upon them at an unfamiliar white house, and they invited her inside. It was a good dream-- like seeing old friends. An eternal optimist, Bebe probably felt her good pals were just popping in to say "hello" from the other side. They had a different agenda. A few days later, she was racing around in her roadster, yet again, when her scarf blew into her face before a nasty curve and blocked her vision. She nearly crashed! Thankfully, she was as sharp as she was speedy, and she was able to avoid the collision. However, when she looked up, she saw the same white house that had been in her dream. Her mouth most probably hit the floor. She got the message. As she told Adela, that was the last day she sped. She spent the rest of her life focusing on more important, less dangerous things (save for her involvement in WWII, in which she became one of the most decorated women in history for her heroic efforts overseas).

Linda Darnell (right) and Natalie Wood probably never met. Their careers in Hollywood did overlap, but Linda's 15 year seniority meant that they would never have run in the same social circles. Linda too worked primarily at Fox; Natalie was less exclusive, but did a large majority of her early and most successful work at Warner Brothers. The two women had a lot in common, however. Both were incredibly young when they began their acting careers: Linda 15, Natalie 5. Both were dark-featured beauties with angelic faces, yet they were equally capable of giving meaty and gutsy performances. Both were family breadwinners even in their tender years, and both had tempestuous relationships with their mothers. More eerily, both had an astonishing sixth sense about their own deaths. Linda had held a deep fear of fire since her early youth, and had a nervous presentiment about burning to death. This did not make her scene in Anna and the King of Siam, in which she was burned at the stake, all that pleasant. She too had a close call during the big fire sequence of Forever Amber, in which she actually was physically burned, albeit not badly. Cinematographer Leon Shamroy stated that she barely escaped death when the set's roof caved in, all aflame. The fear never left her. In 1965, she would be severely burned all over her body at the home of her friend Jeanne Curtis when it caught fire and she failed to get out in time. She passed away less than 2 days later.

For her part, Natalie (left) had a pathological fear of drowning. In fact, her sister Lana once stated that Natalie's mother, Maria, had foretold her daughter that she would die in dark water. The root of Natalie's supposed phobia is often traced back to the experience she had while filming The Green Promise. During one particular sequence, she was to rush across a bridge to rescue her pet lambs. Unfortunately, she was knocked off the bridge by the raging water and nearly swept under, had she not been able to grab a hold of the collapsing bridge. To make matters worse, the director William D. Russell, urged the crew to keep filming, while Natalie clung for dear life and her mother tried to quell her own desperate hysterics. Aside from being nearly drowned, Natalie also suffered a broken wrist. The terrified look on the 10-year-old's face in the final cut is no act. Her fear continued into her adult life where she would avoid her own swimming pool for fear of being eternally submerged. Her on-again-off again husband, Robert Wagner, managed to coax her into a trip aboard his boat with pal Christopher Walken in 1981, despite her fears. Natalie would never return to shore. It is claimed that she drunkenly fell overboard while trying to reach the yacht's dinghy (after a lover's spat). To this day, mystery clouds her death, for many assert that she was far too terrified of water to ever make such a brazen attempt as rowing herself ashore alone. Foul play or cruel fate? It appears death by fire and water were in the cards for these two tragic ladies.

Montgomery Clift (right) has been known to do a little creeping around. His trumpet continues to put on a concert at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel where his restless spirit eternally continues to pace the hallway in preparation for his role as "Pvt. Prewitt" in From Here to Eternity. Craig Chester, a modern actor and writer who authored Why the Long Face?: The Adventures of a Truly Independent Actor about his battle with a congenital disorder, had a lengthy and otherworldly connection to Monty, whose ghost seemed to maintain close contact with him in order to foster his own acting career and acceptance of his homosexuality. Craig's painful ordeal and metamorphosis from a child suffering from Long Face Syndrome to a surgically salvaged, handsome man, when contrasted with Monty's converse demise from a man of beauty to facial mutilation, also seems to strengthen the bond between them. Monty was always a fascinated and fascinating man in his life, but if he had any interest in the supernatural he kept it to himself. However, the "forces that be" seemed to have a deep need to communicate with him while he walked this earthly plane. In fact, he received an early warning that his years would be abruptly cut short. When stopping at a bar at the Camden Airport with his one time secretary Arlene Cunningham and friend Ned Smith, the trio encountered a handwriting expert, who must have recognized the movie star and offered his services. Monty scrawled out a little something or other, perhaps his autograph, and the graphologist diagnosed it: "You're the most disturbed man I've ever met-- you'll die young." True to form, Monty passed away at 45 years of age.

Mae West (left) is perhaps the last person that anyone would connect to the occult. However, Mae was a much more curious and open-minded person than many realize. By 1941, she had already made her major Hollywood films, including My Little Chickadee and She Done Him Wrong, which had made her a sexual icon, early feminist, and all-around business dynamo. After all the hustle and bustle of Tinsel Town, Mae was tired and looking forward to more time spent on the stage. First and foremost, she wanted a vacation. Always close with her mother, Mae was devastated when "Tillie" passed away over a decade earlier. Sitting on top of the world, Mae couldn't help but wonder if there were more "out there" to be reckoned with and more for her to learn. Always an eager student, Mae decided to dip her toe into the tepid pool of the afterlife. Wanting to be as legit as possible (she was as skeptical as she was curious), Mae sought the guidance of Rev. Thomas Jack Kelly, a psychic who was so well-trusted that he was often used as a consultant by the police during investigations. He became a spiritual coach to Mae, teaching her how to meditate, to block out the noise and light, make her mind a blank canvas, and commune with the other side. For days, weeks, Mae tried and tried, but a busy dame like herself had trouble sitting still and opening her mind. She finally decided to give up.

Then, one morning, she was awakened by a little girl's voice. "Good morning, dear," it said. Mae was a little surprised of course, but she was not easily rattled. The voice was pleasant, and Mae wondered if perhaps it came from some sort of guardian angel. She and the Reverend referred to it from then on as Juliet. Soon, more voices came... and presences. Apparently, Mae had "the gift," and her boudoir was often crowded with noisy visitors: spirits who seemed to just want a place to come together and gab. Not to Mae, mind you. In fact, she found it quite rude that these presences were only speaking to each other and not noticing her at all. Then, things turned dark. She woke one morning to find herself surrounded by dark, cloaked figures chanting in a foreign tongue. She tried to speak to them, but they ignored her. This was too much. Mae sat up and told them "Scram!!!" She would recall a look of sadness on the faces of some of the ghosts who were told to finally leave, as if they were hurt that they could no longer share in her earthly aura, but enough was enough. It wasn't that she was scared, mind you. She was irritated! It was one thing to ignore her; it was another to make a lot of gosh-darned noise and wake her up at the break of dawn! That's just bad manners. She never saw any of the entities again, though she had often though that she would revisit the spiritual realm eventually. At the end of the day, the experience made her feel better. She knew her Mama was out there somewhere... She just wasn't going to lose her mind trying to find her! (Mae defies intimidation, right).

When recollecting the masculine idols of the Golden Studio Era, it is easy to forget the short-stacked Mickey Rooney (left). However, when you weigh the evidence, Mickey is one of the most successful actors who ever lived, boasting a career that has spanned nearly 90 years. Over 90-years-old himself, the man is still working, most lately having a cameo in The Muppets. He won America over at a young age, using his unstoppable energy to propel himself up the cinematic ladder: from "Puck" in A Midsummer Night's Dream, to Love Finds Andy Hardy, to National Velvet. He was a bona fide box-office sensation who wed and bed some of the most beautiful women of the silver screen. There's no telling what a little fortitude and charisma can do for you, and Mickey never let his short stature short-change him out of any of life's blessings. However, when his career hit the skids after his notoriety as the energetic boy-next-door wore off, Mickey found himself lost in a sea of self-doubt. He would recall this harrowing time on an episode of "Celebrity Ghost Stories": He had always been close with his mother, Nellie, particularly after his actor father, Joseph, abandoned them. Mickey had, in essence, become the family breadwinner when he and Nellie hit Hollywood. Growing up without a father is rough, and during his later bout with depression, one can only imagine the conflicted thoughts going through Mickey's head. Never having a good man stand in as a father figure, Mickey had no idea what a good man was, or if he was even close to being one. He felt like a failure-- as if the best years of his life were over...

And then, lying in bed one night, Mickey woke to the feeling of someone tugging on his toes. Half asleep, he ignored the sensation at first, but as the peskiness continued, and his consciousness became more alert, Mickey suddenly realised that something weird was going on. He opened his eyes, and there, standing at the foot of his bed, was his father. "Keep going," Joe said. "Don't stop." A series of similar phrases followed, Joe smiled, and then his image disappeared into thin air. Mickey couldn't totally wrap mind around what had happened, and he tried in vain to rationalize what had occurred. Perhaps it had all been an illusion, "an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese..." A dream!?!? Mickey pinched himself. He new that what he had just witnessed had been real. His father had come to him, finally, from beyond the grave, to do the best thing that he ever could for his son: offer the encouragement he had not given in life. MIckey did indeed pull himself together and 'go on.' He's still going. He hasn't seen his Pops again, but then, one visit was enough! (Mickey is back up to snuff, right).

Shirley ain't scared 'a no ghost.

That being said, don't let the boogey-man get you down this All Hallow's Eve. Enjoy the merriment and mirth, stick to the road, and try your best not to go down a dark hall alone! Happy Halloween!!!

NOW, THAT'S FUNNY: Part 11

Despite appearances, Mary Pickford was not one liable to be pushed around,

(here in Little Annie Rooney).

Mary Pickford had a duality that served her well on the silver screen. Just as she easily projected a sense of warmth and grace, she too juxtaposed these softer qualities with an innocently uncivilized, tom-boyish defiance. In many ways, this would keep Mary two steps ahead of the rest of the pack. Being a career-woman in a man's world isn't easy. Mary learned early that being both diminutive and overly feminine put her at a disadvantage. The only way to swim in a sea of sharks without becoming dinner was to bulk up her defense mechanism. Thus, even while she looked as lovely as a daffodil, her assertiveness and her smarts quickly alerted the men in her midst that she was not to be victimized: dangerous things sometimes come in small packages. D.W. Griffith (left) came to know this perhaps more than any other man Mary ever encountered. Once he hit his stride as a short filmmaker, he had started to enjoy his position of power in the tiny Biograph universe. His taste for delicate females was also one that he was able to assuage, both on screen and off. Thus, pint-sized Mary Pickford appeared to him as quite the tempting dollop. That is, until she spoke... Their working relationship was equal parts love and hate; respect and frustration. For example, when the two were shooting To Save Her Soul, Griffith once grabbed Mary and shook her violently, because she was not giving him the burst of emotion he wanted. His attempt at intimidation didn't work. Mary bit him!!! As if that weren't enough, her sister Lottie too jumped to her defense by literally jumping on Griffith's back. Suffice it to say, the Pickford clan made their point: don't mess with the Queen Bee. Fortunately for the audience, it was exactly Mary's independence and resistance that made her a perfect fit in Griffith's increasingly well-crafted films.

A much more amiable friendship and meeting was enjoyed by two other bright stars of silent cinema. Many of the tales of this era, or any era for that matter, are so steeped in rumor and hearsay that they are probably more the products of manufactured lore than historical fact. However, sometimes what isn't true, feels true, and thus becomes true-- at least in the minds of fans. Thus, the way that Douglas Fairbanks met BFF Charlie Chaplin (both right) remains a fond legend that we're just going to go ahead and accept. It goes like this: A random man loitered outside a theater that was playing the new Fairbanks feature. Another man walked up and asked Man #1 if the hot, new Doug was really any good. The first man answered, "He's the best in the business!" The second man asked, "Is he as good as Chaplin?" Man #1 responded, "Fairbanks far surpasses that outmoded Chaplin bloke!" Man #2 paused, then made his move: "I'm Chaplin." Man #1 smiled and replied, "I know. I'm Fairbanks." The laughs didn't stop there. For the length of their friendship, Doug and Charles were always trying to one-up each other on the jokes. They were both energetic men, typically being described as "always on," yet Doug had an optimism and energy that the much more serious and fretful Chaplin found relaxing. They were a great balance, and their pranks are a good representative of the fondness that they shared for each other. For example, when Doug was filming Robin Hood, he was ordered to report particularly early one morning on the castle set. Still wiping the sleep from his eyes, he was surprised to see the drawbridge lower over the moat. A yawning King stepped outside and placed two empty milk bottles beside the massive entrance before scratching his bottom and returning into his fortress. The King, of course, was Chaplin. Doug was in stitches.

Long before Mary Pickford fell in love with Doug Fairbanks, she had become enchanted by another man. This relationship was not romantic, however. Mary was already married to Owen Moore when she met and started working with director Marshall Neilan aka "Mickey" (left). His great humor and vulnerability for the bottle, an attribute all too familiar to Mary, made her immediately attracted to him. They worked well together, and Mary did some of her best work with the director, whom she also called "friend." Of course, Marshall's undependable antics and alcoholism drove the overly professional Ms. Pickford up a wall most of the time. The more the years went on, the more Mickey seemed to mysteriously disappear from the set, show up late, or not at all. Mary would wind up doing his directing for him most of the time. No matter what, she couldn't stay mad at him-- a quality many women shared, including Anna May Wong, who was deeply in love with him for some time. An example of what made Mickey so endearing is evidenced in the following story. When filming Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall, el director was nowhere to be found for the umpteenth time, and Mary was forced to once again step in and take charge. In a scene shooting at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, she guided the masses from atop a horse. No sooner had the camera started cranking, then the crew noticed a familiar face in the crowd: Marshall Neilan. He didn't seem surprised or insulted at all that Mary had taken over. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the show, (perhaps because he was three sheets to the wind). "Say, you're doing pretty well!" he chirped, merrily. He then sauntered off and let the procession continue without him. He was more focused on finding another drink than guiding Dorothy's ship.

At one time in history, Erich von Stroheim (right) was known as "The Man You Love to Hate." This was not an exaggeration. The Austrian-born actor/director was known for portraying foreign villains on the screen, most typically those representative of the German enemy during The Great War. However, he also played random sleaze-bags and ne'er-do-wells in films like Social Secretary opposite Norma Talmadge. Add to this his reputation as an overly sumptuous director who had Carl Laemmle sweating dollar bills, and you have one disreputable, unattractive individual. The way von Stroheim locked horns with Irving Thalberg, for example, is legendary. During the shooting of one of his masterpieces, Foolish Wives, he had the entire city of Monte Carlo replicated and built at the studio, which put the film over-over-over-budget. With no way to rein himself in artistically, von Stroheim seemed to get bigger and bolder with each project, to a fault. His films Queen Kelly and Greed clocked in at approximately five and nine hours respectively, and due to their length, they clearly had trouble earning money at the box-office. Sore bottoms didn't help his reputation with the public, not to mention the fact that these films could only be shown once or twice a day at any given theater, bringing in one batch of ticket sales, whereas a regular film could be shown several times over and rake in the dough. To put it succinctly, his methods made Orson Welles look like a penny pincher. Despite this over-indulgence and disregard for economy, one couldn't argue Erich's talent. His films remain some of the most visually hypnotic and socially compelling artifacts of silent cinema. He had fans within his own time, of course, but more enemies. (The fact that he strutted around like a self-important monarch complete with a monocle didn't help his reputation with the people). Because the divide between fact and fiction was very flimsy in the early days of celebrity, the public reacted to a public figure not as who he was but as the character he played on the screen, which in Erich's case was the German enemy. As a result, he couldn't eat in public. See, every time he went to grab a bite, he got spat on by some random pedestrian. Best to stay indoors and safe from democracy.

Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle (left) was perhaps the sweetest of all the silent clowns. A large physical presence, his warm-hearted demeanor made him a lovable buffoon who was one of the top box-office draws of his day. Before the shameful and unfortunate court scandal (concerning the death of Virginia Rappe) that would ruin his career and send shock-waves through the nation, Fatty was riding high on the wave of critical and financial success in  early 1921. His baby-faced humor and surprising dexterity made any cinematic offering bearing his name a sure-fire hit. His shenanigans carried over into his private life, where he liked to push the envelope on personal pranks. Of course, a humorous scheme is not truly glorious unless one has a worthy mark. Who better than the icy, all-work-and-no-play studio-head Adolph Zukor? Yet another hard-working immigrant who had endured the harsh realities of adolescent poverty and the resulting disassociation of foreign terrain, Zukor used his personal tragedies to propel him to his hard-bitten position as a major movie power-player. Adolph was one cool customer. In fact, when Fatty would later endure the Rappe scandal, Zukor withdrew studio support and left him to the wolves: it was business, not personal.The studio had to save itself. To Fatty, it was no laughing matter. 

Buster assists Fatty in some more foolishness, while Al St. John and Alice Lake

accompany on the banjo and piano.

Yet, before the storm broke, Fatty was determined to use his own clout to poke fun at the impenetrable Zukor. As always, he used his favorite ally, Buster Keaton, to make the hysterical magic happen: Fatty invited Zukor over for dinner and had Buster pose as his butler. Friends like Syd Grauman, Viola Dana, Bebe Daniels, and Alice Lake, were invited and played along as the other guests. Buster's butler decorum was off all evening. He spilled soup all over himself, he flirted with the women, and he poured water on Fatty's lap. He also incorrectly served the men before the women, resulting in a loud reprimand from Fatty. Buster then switched the shrimp he had just placed on the men's plates with those on the women's plates, as if this solved the problem. Fatty continually took Buster into the kitchen to heatedly reprimand him (while secretly laughing) throughout the evening. Finally, Buster dropped the prize dinner turkey, brushed it off, and tried to continue serving it. Fatty grew so angry that Zukor was nervous! When he saw Fatty smash a bottle over Buster's head (a breakaway), he nearly fainted! The "waiter" fled into the night, only returning later that evening as himself, Buster Keaton. Adolph was excited to meet the comic, and proceeded to tell him all about Fatty's horrible butler... until he noticed a strange resemblance. One assumes that the crowd had a good laugh... Perhaps even Zukor.

HISTORY LESSON: WHO KILLED WILLIAM DESMOND TAYLOR???

On the morning of February 2, 1922, William Desmond Taylor was lying peacefully on his back in his 202 Alvarado Street Bungalow in Los Angeles, CA. A handsome, fashionable man and famed film director, his appearance was immaculate. Not a hair was out of place, his arms were neatly at his sides, and his face was serene. At 7:30, his houseman Henry Peavey reported for work as usual, and he was quite surprised when he found his boss lying so quietly. On the floor. With an overturned chair on one of his legs. Henry drew closer. Bill wasn't breathing. Henry ran from the bungalow! Soon, all of the neighbors, including Edna Purviance, David and Faith MacLean, and Hazel Gillon heard the frightened black man screaming that his boss was dead.

Who killed Bill Taylor??? When the police first arrived at 8am that morning-- after the studio PR department, of course-- they didn't think WDT had been killed at all. He had suffered from severe stomach cramps for which he took milk of magnesia, and it was assumed that he had suffered a fatal hemorrhage. However, when the coroners lifted his body, they discovered a pool of blood on the carpet and a bullet in Bill's back. Because the entry wound did not match the hole in his jacket, it was clear that Bill had had his arms raised in surrender when he was shot. One hour after detectives had ruled his death one of natural causes, they re-opened the case. It was murder.

And so, the media mayhem began. Rumors ran wild, conspiracies were concocted, and suspects piled up like Saturday night ticket stubs. The shot that killed William Desmond Taylor became the shot heard 'round Hollywood. In time, myth and fiction would bury the truth, innocent people would be crucified, and poor, poor Bill would lie dead without redemption. It was rumored that the crazed finger-pointing that resulted was a calculated attempt to draw attention away from the real killer and the LAPD's massive cover up, as well as to utilize the opportunity to take down two movie stars that studios no longer considered worthy investments-- Mabel Normand and Mary Miles Minter. Before the search for truth was corrupted, and there were honorable detectives tirelessly looking for answers, the entire city was on the hunt for a ruthless, cold-blooded killer. What was found, and not found, made Hollywood history.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evidence found at the scene went as follows:

• WDT was shot at close range with a .38 snub nosed revolver. The bullet passed through his lungs, hit his collarbone, and stopped beneath the skin of his lower neck.

• Cigarette butts were found behind the bungalow, where the killer presumably waited for the right opportunity to make his/her move.

• The killing was not the result of a robbery, for Bill had $78 in his pocket, a diamond ring oh his finger, and a $2000 platinum watch on his wrist.

• Throughout the house were numerous letters, photographs, and gifts from both Mabel Normand and Mary Miles Minter.

• A set of keys was found, but they mysteriously fit none of the locks.

• Witnesses and neighbors in the court, David and Faith MacLean, heard shuffling footsteps behind the bungalow at 7:40pm.

• David reported hearing what sounded like a muffled shot between 8 and 8:15pm.

• Faith saw a man, or a woman dressed as a man, leaving the building not long after. He or she was about 5'10" and of medium build, wearing a long coat.

• Witness Hazel Gillon would later testify to seeing a dark figure depart.

As time passed, questionable and even completely fabricated evidence would also come into play. It was falsely reported that Mabel Normand had been at the bungalow the morning of Feb. 2, searching for love letters she had written to Bill. Untrue. Studio employee Charles Eyton was later sent by the studio to retrieve incriminating evidence, and he grabbed some of Mabel's letters. When he found them to be completely harmless, he turned them over to police. Mabel was not there that morning. A piece of lingerie was also found, bearing the insignia MMM, apparently belonging to Mary Miles Minter. Mary denied the existence of such an article, and after it was found, it just as quickly disappeared. This led to rumors that Bill had a large closet upstairs filled with pornographic photos and underwear belonging to major Hollywood starlets. Also false.

Another mystery came in the form of a handkerchief, which was rumored to be lying on the floor beside WDT with the monogram "S." A neighborhood doctor randomly appeared and offered his services to the police. After making his false diagnosis of "death by natural causes," the doctor quickly disappeared. The hanky went with him. It was also reported that 2 Hartley Service Station attendants and 1 Redline train conductor had testified to seeing a man that matched Faith MacLean's "description" the night of the murder, who  in both cases asked directions to Bill's house. Due to the fact that Faith's remembrance of the culprit was vague at best, it is difficult to accept their corroborations. From the beginning, it was clear that someone was tampering with evidence, feeding phony information to the press, and keeping the public away from the truth.

Suspects were aplenty. At the top of the list were Mabel and Mary, who by now the public was certain were both having a torrid affair with WDT. Normand would staunchly defend her platonic relationship with Bill, though Mary would never deny her feelings for the director, whom she claimed to love. The infamous love triangle, which suggested one of the women had killed her lover out of jealousy, would ruin the careers of both women, whom studios failed to protect.

Mabel (right) had in fact been the last to see Bill alive. She had come over to his home around 6:45 the evening of February 1, to pick up a book he'd bought for her. She waited outside for a few minutes in her lilac limousine as Bill finished up a phone call. Then, she went inside with her peanuts and popcorn and enjoyed a night of relaxation and conversation with her good friend. By 7:45, Bill had walked Mabel out to her car, she pressed her lips to her window, and kissed her pal farewell. (The lipstick smudge she left would later be used as evidence in her favor). After she was questioned, Mabel was fully exonerated of all suspicion because of her lack of motive as well as the alibi provided by both her chauffeur and her maid. She was completely innocent, yet the stigma of "murderess" would stick with her the rest of her life. Since she had a history of drug addiction, people also started spreading rumors that the bag of peanuts she had brought over to WDT's was actually cocaine.

Mary (left) was also (legally) let off the hook. Despite her numerous love letters, no motive could be found. It seemed she had truly loved Bill.  Her abili for that evening was corroborated by both her sister, Margaret, and her grandmother, Julia, who confirmed that she had been reading The Cruise of the South Sea Island to them at the time of the murder. Her little pink neglige did manage to forever label her as a tramp, and her work in films came to a screeching halt. The other suspects were the following:

• Henry Peavey, houseman: Along with the immediate suspicion he garnered for being the one to find Bill's body, Henry had a prior arrest for public indecency in park for soliciting young men. Ironically, Bill was supposed to testify on his behalf the day his body was found.

• An Army Officer: When Bill fought in WWI, it was rumored that he testified against a fellow officer at a court martial. Some speculated that the said officer returned to take his revenge on the suddenly famous director.

• Drug Dealers: Bill made it part of his mission to make a war on the dope ring. He personally took it upon himself to send his troubled friend Mabel to a sanatorium for rehabilitation for her growing addiction. It was theorized that some miffed leaders of the drug ring wanted to shut the revolutionary man up.

• Charlotte Shelby: The mother of Mary Miles Minter, she was a greedy, possessive woman, who was known to both own a gun and use it to threaten her daughter's suitors.

• Ada Tanner: Ada was the wife of Bill's brother, Dennis, who had skipped town on her many years ago. When she received a tip that Dennis was working with her rich brother in Hollywood, she came running with her hand out. Bill paid her monthly checks on Dennis's behalf. Did it prove to be too little?

• And the most mysterious: Edward Sands. Ed was WDT's secretary, who some believed was actually his brother Dennis, living under a false identity. Though this proved to be untrue, it did appear that Ed had been blackmailing Bill. He then skipped town with $5000 in forged checks and many of Bill's valuables, which were later found at a pawn shop. Ed was found dead 6 weeks after Bill's murder with a self-inflicted bullet in his brain. Guilt for thievery or murder???

The list went on and on, and by 1923 there were 300 suspects, most of whom were "confessing Sams," unbalanced individuals who wanted their name in the papers. The case grew stranger and stranger as the years passed, with the facts becoming increasingly jumbled. Digging into WDT's past unearthed many ghosts as well, and people were shocked to learn that the compassionate gentleman was not all that he had appeared to be.

Born April 26, 1867 in Carlow, Ireland, William Deane Tanner (pictured right on set of "Captain Alvarez") was a modest and bashful youth with a penchant for the arts. His father, a gruff British Major, envisioned a different life for Bill in the army. At 15, content no longer, Bill broke his engagement to Eva Shannon and left to pursue a career on the stage. By the age of 17, his father had tracked him down and sent him to Runnymeade, a ranch that rehabilitated disobedient youths. After "serving his time" there, he left home for good. He struggled through odd jobs, even ironically serving in the military. By the time he was 34, he was living in New York, married to Ethel Harrison, actress, and working in an antique shop. He then abruptly disappeared with $500, Ethel divorced him, citing infidelity as the cause, and a few years later he had re-emerged as an actor and director in Hollywood, CA. (Many consider his masterpiece to be Huckleberry Finn).

At first glance, this would make Bill seem like an irresponsible cad, but in truth he remained on good terms with ex-wife Ethel and his daughter Daisy Deane Tanner, whom he supported financially even after Ethel remarried. He also put Daisy through school. What reason, then, could he possibly have for leaving them? And why would Ethel be so understanding of it? The answer was discovered by none other than King Vidor when he was researching the murder for a movie he wanted to make. According to Vidor's findings, William Desmond Taylor was a homosexual. No longer being able to hide the truth from himself or his family, he and his wife amicably split, and he took the blame of infidelity in order to  save Ethel the shame and embarrassment.  This was the information Edward Sands had been blackmailing him with.

His sexual orientation was corroborated by many of those who worked with him and knew him well. WDT was always described as being gentlemanly, respectful, and consummately professional. He was never a "lady chaser," and in Hollywood, a hot-shot director like himself could have had his pick of many a beauty. It was also said that the awkward argument he got into one evening before the murder at the athletic club occurred because friends Marshall Neilan, Jimmy Kirkwood, and Tony Moreno confronted him about his sexuality. Friend and set decorator George Hopkins was also a homosexual, and he told Vidor that he was sent to Bill's house the morning of the murder specifically to clean up any incriminating evidence that would point to his homosexuality. The notorious pink nightie was planted by the studios, who wanted to protect the director's reputation as a ladies' man, and their own reputation as well. The mystery keys the police found belonged to the home of Bill's lover, and there was even a hotel room Bill rented, supposedly for Henry Peavey, that he actually used for himself and his male guests. Henry Peavey, who was in fact not a homosexual, was arrested for soliciting men on Bill's behalf, which is why Bill was going to testify for him. The debacle had been his fault, and he was guilt-ridden. This also equally explains the platonic relationship Mabel and Bill had with each other.

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It does, however, leave curious Bill's relationship with Mary Miles Minter. It turns out that Mary was not his lover, but a lovesick, little girl who was rumored to stalk the caring director in the hopes that he would offer her salvation from her controlling mother. The rumored love triangle was a bust-- complete publicity. However, Vidor also found another bit of evidence that had been buried. Three of Mary Miles Minter's hairs had been found on WDT's body!!! How and why was this covered up!? It turns out that it was not Mary whom the police were trying to protect, but her mother, Charlotte Shelby, who had easily bought the corrupt District Attorney Thomas Woolwine's silence. It was the evil, manipulative Mama Shelby who had killed Bill Taylor. Here are the facts:

Mary never wanted to be an actress, but when Charlotte, who had always favored elder daughter Margaret (pictured at left with Charlotte), saw Mary's natural talent, she decided to use her daughter as a meal ticket all the way to Hollywood. In her claustrophobic clutches, Mary was always looking for a way out. She had an affair with Jimmy Kirkwood, whom she hoped would rescue her. All he got her was pregnant, which of course led to Charlotte's insistence on an abortion. Not much later, Mary fell for the sturdy, fatherly, and compassionate Taylor, whom more than one actor relied on as a trustworthy confidante and pillar of strength. She was head over heels for the sensitive man, who for once stood up to her mother and protected her. He wasn't afraid of Charlotte, but he should have been.

Charlotte felt cornered. If WDT gave Mary the strength to break out on her own, Charlotte would lose her easy income and expensive lifestyle. It was known that Charlotte carried a .38 Smith and Wesson revolver. When pushed to the limit, Mary had even tried to kill herself with it. She fired into her mouth three times, but the safety was luckily on. Charlotte had also driven to Bill's before and threatened him with the gun, but he failed to get the message.

On the evening of February 1, Charlotte locked her disobedient daughter in her bedroom. Julia, Mary's grandmother, who was the only one to ever really love her, let her out, and Mary high-tailed it over to Bill's. Charlotte was enraged and started searching everywhere for Mary. She started at Marjorie Berger's, who was the accountant Bill and Mary shared. Marjorie called Bill after her "interrogation" to alert him to be on his guard, and this is whom he was on the phone with when Mabel drove up for their night together. Hiding upstairs all this time, unbeknown to Mabel, was Mary. Hovering somewhere behind the bungalow, was Charlotte. When Mabel left, and Bill walked her to her car, Charlotte made her move and slipped in. This was her only opportunity, as all of Bill's doors automatically locked when they closed. Bill waved goodbye to Mabel and re-entered his home, not knowing the evil awaiting him inside. We'll never know what exactly occurred once he closed the bungalow door behind him, but within minutes, he was dead.

Charlotte and Mary both fled the scene, which would account for differing descriptions of the culprit's appearance. Later, Adela Rogers St. Johns would claim that Faith MacLean did in fact accurately i.d. Charlotte as the man/woman leaving the scene that night. Charlotte created the false alibi that Mary had been reading to her grandmother and sister all night, which Julia obligingly corroborated to protect her innocent granddaughter. For herself, Charlotte claimed that she had been having dinner that night with Carl Stockdale, who just happened to be a close, personal friend of D.A. Woolwine's.

It would have been easy to pin the murder on Charlotte had she not had Woolwine in her pocket. On the morning of Feb. 2, Charlotte called Marjorie Berger between 7 and 7:30 and told her about Bill's death. Her gloating clouded her thinking, for this was a dead giveaway. Henry Peavey did not find Bill until 7:30, so how could Charlotte have known he was dead? She made the same mistake at 8am when the police were just arriving at the scene. This time she told her chauffeur, Charles Eyton, about the murder, then handed him her .38 and told him to empty to bullets.

The whole mess was hushed up by Woolwine, who was paid handsomely for his silence by Charlotte, with Mary's hard earned money of course. All incriminating evidence disappeared and the facts were altered when given to the public. Even the description of the crime scene was false. Apparently, Bill's body had not been as immaculately composed as originally described. His face may have been peaceful, but there was blood on his nose. His arms and legs were also in more disarray and lay not perfectly at his sides. While studio publicity cleaned up Bill's image, they didn't stop the dirtying of Mary's, who was left alone, jobless, and soon, all but insane. Charlotte on the other hand was fine. Even when daughter Margaret sued her mother in later years, testifying that she had been forced by Mama to give false testimony in the WDT case, no arrests were ever made. The payoffs continued when future D.A. Buron Fitts found the murder weapon, which Julia was supposed to get rid of. Fitts, one of the most corrupt SOBs that ever lived, offered to destroy all evidence once and for all if paid a hefty sum. He killed himself in 1973 with a .38.

With one shot, Charlotte took down Bill Taylor, Mabel Normand, and Mary Miles Minter, who once said: "My mother killed everything I ever loved." Who would have known she was being literal? Of course, Mary remained unwaveringly loyal to her mother, never uttering the truth of what happened to anyone. She even came to believe her own lies. Family was all she had left, after all. After Charlotte died, there were those who theorized that she faked her own death and still stalked  her then overweight and mentally unstable daughter Mary, who in later life was a recluse suffering from diabetes. Whether alive or dead, Charlotte continued to haunt her.

 

Photo taken by the coroner

William Desmond Taylor rests now at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in the Cathedral Mausoleum. But he does not rest in peace. His story is but one of many ghosts that haunt the diabolical place called Tinsel Town-- so pretty, so dangerous. With all the major players now dead, how can justice ever be done? I suppose simply by honoring the gifted director and his plentiful contribution to cinematic artistry, which is one thing that will thankfully never die.

*Update: I just encountered information regarding Margaret Gibson aka Patricia Palmer et al, a silent screen actress who reportedly confessed to Will's murder on her deathbed in 1964. As she was involved in extortion, and knew and worked with Taylor, the motive would seem to lean toward blackmail-gone-wrong, if she did in fact pull the trigger. I still stand by the aforementioned theory of my article, as I am not familiar enough with the evidence surrounding Gibson's plea, but will keep you posted as I learn more. Was her confession the raving of a delirious old woman, or is there truth??? (There is more information about her at Taylorology.com). To be continued...