MENTAL MONTAGE: The More the Merrier?

Margaret Dumont may have been Groucho's most popular leading lady,
but one damsel was never enough for this comedic scallawag-- here in
A Day at the Circus.

One of the funniest moments in the Marx Brothers' classic Animal Crackers is the following exchange:

Groucho/Capt. Spaulding: [to Mrs. Rittenhouse and Mrs. Whitehead] Let's get married.

Mrs. Whitehead: All of us?

Capt. Spaulding: All of us.

Mrs. Whitehead: Why, that's bigamy!

Capt. Spaulding: Yes, and it's big o' me too.

A surprising number of Hollywood greats must have agreed. If nothing else, celebrities are consistent in their irreverence for the the norm. Their knack for breaking "the rules," which they mistakenly don't believe apply to them, result in many a mugshot, courtroom cameo, or front page article in such publications as the groundbreaking Life & Style or In Touch-- both of which should probably consider changing their titles. One of the favorite nit-picking recreations in which modern society partakes with regard to their falling idols is "the Marriage Game." We roll our eyes at their numerous nuptials (Hello, Liz Taylor) or their shameful divorces (were you on Team Jennifer or Team Angelina?) and consequently declare them unsuited for the supreme honor of wedded bliss. Clearly, these silly stars don't understand the sanctity of marriage nor appreciate it. Or do they appreciate it too much??? Marriage: an event so nice, some do it twice... And occasionally without getting the necessary divorce.

Show-business becomes our business due to its overabundant coverage. We idolize our movie stars and musicians for living abnormal lives of excess and glamour, but we just as easily transition to a mob of teeth-gnashing, rabid dogs when they overindulge in these same things. Ingrid Bergman (left) learned this the hard way when she fell desperately in love with Robert Rossellini at the cost of her first marriage to Petter Lindstrom. As Petter promoted himself as the wronged and totally faultless party in the scandal, public opinion turned against Ingrid with insane rapidity. The former angelic presence of the silver screen was labeled a "whore." The mother of all that was good was suddenly deemed unfit for maternity. Naturally, Ingrid's previously proclaimed superb talent became "overrated" overnight. (People do have an uncanny knack for rewriting history, don't they)? 


Ingrid obtained her divorce from Petter, refusing to contest any of his demands. She considered his attacks deserved retribution for her shameful actions. She wed her Italian beloved and made a new life and a new career in his country. She eventually recovered, but Ingrid was only truly forgiven by her American fans until after she started detaching herself from the erratic and possessive Roberto. It was considered an admission of her own defeat when Ingrid stepped outside his directorial control and performed in the superb Anastasia. After Ingrid decided to divorce Roberto, the US felt as if she had come to her senses and thus welcomed both her and her talent back with open arms. However, this second divorce was a little sticker than the first...

Roberto turned out to be just as vindictive as Petter during the separation, yet at no time did he come close to exhibiting any dignity. He bitterly told Ingrid that Italy did not "recognize" divorce (at the time), and if she ever wed another, she would be labeled a bigamist! In addition, he threatened to take their three children ("Robin," Isabella, and Isotta) away from her. His bitterness cleverly chose to ignore his own philandering during their marriage, of course. Again, Ingrid was appeasing and complacent to most of his demands, but she remained determined to obtain her separation from Roberto. With the help of her crafty lawyer Ercole Graziadei, she was able to obtain an annulment!!! The loophole used was thus: Ingrid had not registered her "proxy" divorce from Petter in Sweden before her Italian marriage to Roberto took place. Therefore, in the eyes of Roman law, she was still technically married to her first husband. Her strategically fashioned Swedish bigamy won her the annulment from Roberto; it was as though the second marriage had never existed. Fortunately, this tactic did not harm her children. At that time in Italy, when a father recognized his "bastard" children, they were considered legitimate. All was well, and Ingrid saw to it that her ties to all past men were totally severed, legally speaking.

Naturally, the public was secretly a little pleased by her estrangement from the man she had left her first husband for. The scale of crime and punishment was balanced once again. After Ingrid's third and final divorce from Lars Schmidt, she decided to avoid the menacing "aisle" at all costs. She openly admitted that her flighty ways, when mixed with her great romanticism, did not instigate the best choices. In reality, she was too much of a free spirit to put down roots anywhere or with anyone. Her great lover always remained her work.

Of course, Ingrid wasn't the only "naughty Marietta" in Tinsel Town. Another diva, who in her time was also considered the greatest of film beauties, had her own share of scrapes with love. Reatha Deane Watson (left) lived one Hell of a bittersweet, short life. At the age of sixteen, she had already run away from home and married one Jack Lytelle. Almost as suddenly, she reappered on her sister's front porch, claiming that her husband had died. (The facts on this remain a bit fuzzy). A wild gypsy at heart, Reatha would soon make her way to Los Angeles in the hopes of becoming a "somebody." She gained some ground when landing a gig in a burlesque. Unfortunately, she was arrested for being underage, hence her infamous appearance in court before the eyes of none other than writer Adela Rogers St. Johns. Labeled "too beautiful" to be in the company of such dirty men and scalawags, Reatha was set free and became an overnight press sensation. 

Yet, within months, she had wed "Max Lawrence," who turned out to truly be the already married father of three Lawrence F. Converse. In addition to participating in Converse's bigamy charge and arrest, there remains the question of Reatha's first marriage. Was her first hubby Jack truly dead, or had Reatha in this instance committed a double bigamy of sorts??? To further sensationalize the scandal, it was widely reported that Converse had knocked himself unconscious in his cell, allegedly for being dramatically distraught over the loss his beautiful, illegitimate bride. When he came to, Converse feigned ignorance of the whole affair, but Reatha could not outrun the scandal, which ruined her reputation in L.A. and drove her to San Francisco. There she performed in a cabaret show and temporarily wed Philip Ainsworth, but he soon left her for what he claimed were her extra-marital dalliances.

Starting fresh yet again, Reatha changed her stage name to Barbara La Mar and married Ben Deeley, though she was not yet quite divorced from Ainsworth. That brings her bigamy tally up to three, by the way. Eventually, the world-worn but still lovely Barbara La Mar became Barbara La Marr and fell in with a new lover-- John Gilbert, (prior to his marriage to Leatrice Joy). She did some extra work and fell under the protection of "Father Confessor" Paul Bern-- who would incidentally have his own bigamy issue of sorts concerning his common law wife Dorothy Millette when he later wed Jean Harlow-- and was handpicked by "Mr. Pep" Douglas Fairbanks to star opposite him in 1921's The Three Musketeers. Every man in existence seemed to fall under Barbara's spell, from homosexual BFF and sometimes "playmate" William Haines to the fawning Louis B. Mayer, who considered her "the most beautiful woman who had ever lived." Sadly, despite or because of her golden looks, Barbara's rough life never won her happiness nor did her trips to the altar gain her true love. She would pass away at the age of 29 after her hard-living body succumbed to tuberculosis. (Barbara right with Ramon Novarro in Trifling Woman).

Rudolph Valentino remains a controversial figure by nature. Uncovering his sexuality has become more important than studying and understanding his work or his influence on the entertainment industry. This is sad indeed. Neither answer, one would assume, should deter people from considering him an incredible cinematic force and one of the greatest symbols of sexual power to ever hit Hollywood. Ironically, one of the pieces of evidence used to argue whether Rudy belongs in the "homo" or "hetero" box is the bigamy case brought against him in 1922. As ever when it comes to this silent heartthrob, this debate remains heavily contested, frustrating, and unsolvable.

Rudy (right) married Jean Acker-- one of Alla Nazimova's cling-ons-- in 1919, a couple of years after he had made it to Los Angeles from Castellaneta, Italy. Unfortunately for Rudy, Jean turned out to be same-sex oriented. Thus, on their wedding night, rumors spread like wildfire that the ultimate lover Valentino had spent his honeymoon trying to beat down his lesbian wife's door. The argument here is that the marriage was a total set-up in order to hide the rising movie star's closeted homosexuality. Yet, Jean's reaction muddles this theory, as does the fact that Rudy hadn't yet obtained enough popularity to need such public protection as a mock marriage. So, was Rudy extremely surprised that night by his lover's reaction or did Jean had some serious second thoughts about their mutual ruse? Who the Hell knows... After a lot of back and forth in which the couple lived apart-- with Rudy allegedly trying to patch things up-- the duo settled on divorce. Though, Rudy's new girlfriend may have had something to do with it.

Rudy became enamored of Natacha Rambova-- yet another Alla Nazimova friend. (FYI-- Rudy hung around Alla quite a bit, which is used to both bolster and refute the homosexuality claims. Alla herself was bisexual, so you have the "guilt" by association slant, yet his association with her also spread his sex-God status. Allegedly, he once overpowered Alla so much in a sexual romp that she fainted mid-coitus). The same consternation of the Acker incident was repeated in the love affair of Rudy and Natacha, who was a creative and artistic force in his life. Rudy certainly preached old-fashioned ideals to friends in terms of marriage and family, but his attraction always veered toward the socially exotic. He was drawn to strength, divergence, and intellectual elevation in women. Whether this represents further proof toward his sexual preference or is irrelevant character information is still unanswered. Yet, his deep attachment to Natacha compelled him to hastily marry her on May 13, 1922 in Mexicali, Mexico. Natacha had assured him that their union would be legal outside the US, despite the fact that he had not waited the legally stipulated full year following his divorce from Jean. Such was not the case, and soon a warrant was out for his arrest!

Rudy turned himself in when the authorities informed him that the corrupt District Attorney Thomas Woolwine had charged him with bigamy on two counts-- both for his double marriage and his consummation of the second. When the case went to court, Rudy's defense argued that the second marriage was not truly legetimate as it had not been consummated. Natacha claimed that she had been ill on the wedding night and, to allow her to rest, Rudy had slept on the porch. This is often used as argument for the pro-homosexual party, as they claim it proves Rudy was not interested in sex with his wife. However, the true person sleeping on the porch that night-- a man physically seen by a passing Indian (?!?) was Douglas Gerrard, a friend who had served as the best man at the wedding. The perjuries committed by Natacha and friend Paul Ivano, who both supported the "unconsummated" defense, were considered a necessary evil to save Rudy from the slammer. The prosecution tried to refute these claims claims and pushed for proof of the standard Honeymoom Delight. They even produced the eye-witness testimony of a maid who had seen the couple wearing matching, purple pajamas while eating breakfast together the next morning. A couple that feeds together, breeds together.  (Feast or farce, right)?

The judge, who was just as confused as you are right now, became so irritated by the ridiculous  arguments and misplaced evidence that he finally had the bigamy charges dropped. An annulment of Rudy's marriage to Natacha necessarily followed to put things right, but this meant that the lovers were separated for a year until they could be properly married. Again. As Rudy's correspondence with Natacha at this time was typically overdramatic but honestly melancholy, it seems that the duo truly cared for each other, though they eventually proved to be incompatible. Had Rudy not died prematurely in 1926, a divorce would most likely have split them apart. Was part of that incompatibility sexual? I unfortunately would have to devote a separate website to that argument. But I do know that he was a bigamist...

...As was his Beyond the Rocks co-star, Gloria Swanson, but then, Gloria always went 'big' (see left). One of the most decadent stars of the silent era, this petite but powerful beauty commanded attention everywhere she went and wore the role of Hollywood Siren as if she had been born playing it. Of course, despite her violent hunger and ambition, Gloria didn't start her career as a lush and intoxicating force of nature. She allegedly began her cinematic employment at about the age of fifteen doing extra work at Essanay in Chicago. Allegedly, production was so taken with her beauty that she was signed to a contract. Before she knew it, she and her mother were moving out to California. Though she suffered through an emotionally scarring and brief marriage to Wallace Beery, Gloria emerged stronger, more resilient, and more determined. Soon enough, she was Cecil B. DeMille's chosen leading lady and one of the most followed fan-favorites in Hollywood.

With her assertive and somewhat intimidating beauty, Gloria had her share of lovers and slobbering supplicants-- from Joe Kennedy to Marshall Neilan-- and her taste for extravagance exposed itself in her six marriages. After Wallace came Herbert K. Somborn of "The Brown Derby" fame, then the dashing Marquis de la Falaise followed, whom she also divorced only to immediately marry Michael Farmer. It was due to this latter relationship that things got sticky. Gloria's impulsive need to be with Michael, which was driven by her severe case of ILL ('in love with love'), caused her to marry him in August of 1931 only to realize that she would not be free from her marriage to the amiable Marquis Henri until November. Thus, the lady received the temporary "bigamy stamp," which she quickly corrected, resolvedly returning to tie the knot with Farmer at end of the year as a legal eagle.

Despite the triumph, all was not smooth with this union. According the couple's biological daughter Michelle Farmer, Michael was "an Irish playboy" with a tendency toward alcoholism. This definitely soured the romance. In addition, despite her turbulent union with Beery (who had raped her on their wedding night), Gloria still craved a man who could, as Michelle put it, "dominate her... Men came into her life like machos and they left like poodles sitting up for a biscuit." Gloria unsuccessfully tried to find a match who could go toe to toe with her own arresting personality (right) while being his own breadwinner; someone to take care of her, while allowing her independence. Being a major and obscenely rich movie star, she was frequently disappointed by her masculine prospects. Such was the case this go-round, and Gloria and the insecure Michael eventually headed for the divorce courts. At least, she did... Michael threatened to sue her for bigamy (yet again!) if she chose to get a divorce without his consent. I guess he didn't know whom he was messing with. Gloria got the divorce two days prior to what would have been their 3rd wedding anniversary.

Gloria would wait over ten years before she faced the altar again, both because she had learned a valid lesson from her past mistakes and also because her career and her life changed a great deal with the talkie revolution. Her star did not shine as bright as it once had once her mysterious magic was forced to speak, despite her talent and strong voice. While struggling with personal issues, she would eventually come out swinging... and wedding. The next stud in her stable was George William Davey, whom she was tied to for less than a year. Her final marriage to William Duffy was the most successful, lasting a full seven years and being ended by her 1983 death. Who knows? Had she survived longer, she may have dragged her wedding gown out of mothballs a few more times!

NOW THAT'S FUNNY: Part XIII

Don't let the glamourpuss fool ya'-- Loop was a hoot!

Many an adjective could be used to describe Lupe Velez: feisty, fiery, temperamental, and apparently inexhaustible. D.W. Griffith found this out the hard way. Griffth has rightfully earned his place in history as a genius of cinematic glory. Through his innovative techniques of visual storytelling, he was able to elevate film from a place of flash to a place of substance-- and even entrancement. Nonetheless, a psychoanalyst could probably have a field day mulling over the man's personal deficiencies and the ways they manifested themselves in his work. Gutsy and heady actresses like Mary Pickford and Lillian Gish could handle his eccentricities and particular fetishes, but it wasn't until Lupe that ol' D.W. was totally beaten at his own game. The power play he used on his sets regarding women is notorious. Light, ethereal females were meant to fulfill a personal fantasy for him on the screen while submitting to his directorial mental games behind the scenes-- a precursor to the later Hitchcock fiascoes. Lupe was the opposite of Griffith's dream girl-- dark featured, exotic, and erotically charged-- but Griffith hoped to tame her nonetheless when they began filming on Lady of Pavements (1929, right). To show her who was boss and to break her iron will, he was determined to exhaust her into submission. His harassment began the first day, when he decided to shoot her in intense close-ups: take, after take, after take, after take. He expected her to eventually burst into tears, complain, collapse in frustration, etc. Not so. Lupe, as ever, was not only a total, uncomplaining pro, but she was a consistent, dynamic, bundle of energy. By lunch time, Griffith and his crew were collapsing and sweating in their chairs, and Lupe was still brimming with excitement: "Play some jazz; I want to dance!" Precious few can say that they jitterbugged circles around D.W. Griffith. One more point for Lupe.

True, Lupe was a bit of a firecracker. While this aspect of her character could reveal itself in an exuberant, positive attitude, one could also catch the brunt of her anger. There were two simple missteps one could make to incite Lupe's ire. One was to hurt or harm her pets. The other was to mess with her jewelry. She had quite the collection of both, but her array of sparkling gems was one of the most impressive in Hollywood. Lupe didn't spend lavishly on dresses or shoes, but when it came to necklaces, earrings, and-- her favorite-- bracelets, she spared no expense. Her arms could be seen covered wrist to elbow in her stacked duds (see her bling-blingin' left). So exorbitant was the sum of her glittering parts, that she couldn't afford to insure them! As such, she got a little paranoid that they would be stolen, particularly when Hollywood went through its big burglary/kidnapping scare following the Lindbergh tragedy. Lupe kept her jewelry stash at home, which made it easy prey for greedy robbers. So, Lupe saw to it that her entire staff, chauffeur included, were given artillery. Even Lupe was packing heat. Any guest to the house would be greeted by a suspicious doorman holding a pistol. There was more than one occasion when Lupe, home alone, heard suspicious noises around her home, and she just fired randomly through the windows or the front door. Whoever it was lurking about quickly fled. But Lupe didn't need a gun to prove her gusto. She was once nearly mugged-- "nearly" being the key word. When two gangster-ish fellows came up behind her on the street and demanded her chinchilla coat, Lupe spun on her heels and howled out an obscene collaboration of English and Spanish expletives and random threats! The two hoods stared wide-eyed then booked it. Lupe's prized fur remained intact, as did all her jewels.

It could be said that Lupe could run hot and cold, but then, who doesn't love variety? Of course, every man has his type. Some prefer shy girls; some like spark plugs. Some prefer a partner who is down-to-earth; others like a little mystery. Actor and war hero Wayne Morris had definite opinions about what was "hot" and what was "not," particularly when it came to women. He made his opinion known when he put the finishing touches on his bathroom. Instead of labeling the faucet handles as "Hot" and "Cold," he instead labeled them respectively: "Ann Sheridan" and "Greta Garbo" (very icy, right). Once can imagine the light-hearted Ann being tickled by that bit of trivia, but allegedly Greta was not amused, but then, she just proved his point, didn't she?

The steamy Ann Sheridan. Which temperature do you prefer your
 temptresses?

The Big Sleep is memorable for many reasons. It is yet another stylish Howard Hawks classic and the second teaming of Humphrey Bogart and his sultry paramour Lauren Bacall (right). Based on the Raymond Chandler novel of the same name, the plot follows detective "Philip Marlowe" (Bogie) as he tries to uncover a diabolical family mystery that leads to murder. Actually, the story proved to be a bit too mysterious. Even today, upon multiple viewings, many audience members have trouble discerning the strange chain of events and what exactly all the pieces of the puzzle mean. Who is the bad guy? And what exactly did he do??? Don't ask me. Even now, I couldn't tell you with any certainty. Hawks smelled trouble early on. During one pivotal scene, after Bogie uncovered a dead body, he actually had to go up to his director and ask, "Howard, who killed this fellow?" Hawks didn't know. It turned out that even Raymond Chandler didn't know! I suppose by then they had already filmed too much of the film to worry about tying up loose ends, so they completed shooting with this mystery in tact. Thus, The Big Sleep may be the only who-dunnit film in history that doesn't even know who-dunnit itself!

John Barrymore was yet another wild card in a full deck of Hollywood scalawags. An incredible theatrical talent, he was just as idiosyncratic as he was gifted. Genius and madness always go hand in hand, don't they? John was serious about his acting, but he wasn't serious about abiding by Hollywood's rules. When offered the lead in The Beloved Rogue, John demurred, feeling that the adapted material wasn't up to his standards. He disappeared to Honolulu instead, intent on racing his yacht, the Mariner, in a race to San Francisco. The irked Irving Thalberg had no choice but to send his right-hand man, Mr. Fix-it Paul Bern, to reel John back to Hollywood for the film. So, Paul and Alan Crosland sailed out to the middle of nowhere to chum it up with John-- and his pet monkey Clementine (left)-- and sweet talk him into accepting the role. John finally acquiesced, but he had some stipulations: the script needed some alterations, of course, but more absurdly, he demanded a role for his friend's duck! Yeah... In the end, the negotiations were easier than many that Paul had been faced with. They shook hands, and the film was made. (No news on whether the bird ever worked again).

Speaking of John, he and his crew of pals had an interesting romantic rivalry going on with the same girl. The only thing was, she wasn't quite... real. It all began when artist John Decker and buddy Errol Flynn were out shopping for decorations for Decker's new Alta Loma Gallery. Passing a certain store, they both spied a gorgeous redhead in the window. Sure, she was a mannequin, but she had sex appeal. Decker decided then and there that he had to have her! So, he and Errol grabbed her from the store, put her in the back-seat of Errol's car, and probably raised more than a few eyebrows while driving with her to the gallery. They quickly named the lady Mona, and what started out as a gag became a bit of an obsession for Decker, who developed a sort of Pygmalion-like relationship with his muse. Indeed, she became something of the mascot of the group. They referred to her as a real girl, threw parties for her, and even fought over who got to dance with her! Then, to heighten the already absurd proportions of the jest, Decker decided to unveil Mona as his latest masterpiece at his gallery. Everyone was invited and thoroughly intrigued to see what the quirky artiste had come up with this time. Decker expected to reveal his friend Mona to a cluster of confused stares, pretentious nods, and the muffled laughter of his friends. Unfortunately, it never got that far. Before the big moment could arrive, Mona was accidentally knocked over and consequently beheaded! As Decker let out a horrified squeal, a huge brawl ensued, with Lawrence Tierney throwing punches, Diana Barrymore tossing out slaps, and others like Anthony Quinn just standing back in amazement. The authorities were summoned, the party broke up, but while Mona was beyond repair, it is believed that Decker was the one who never truly recovered. Ah, lost love... (Errol, his father, and John Decker, right).

HISTORY LESSON: Lil' Bit About Lincoln

The latest Hollywood offering about one of America's most revered presidents, Abraham Lincoln, has been drawing much attention with its slew of award wins and nominations. Director Steven Spielberg's Lincoln focuses on the life of the 16th leader of our nation as he fought for abolition in the midst of the Civil War. Daniel Day-Lewis, surprise-surprise, was incredible in his portrayal of one of the most iconic men in history and won the Golden Globe for his performance last night at the award ceremony.

Henry Fonda puts his oversized dogs up in his portrayal of 

the adored Commander in Chief in Young Mr. Lincoln.

Yet, Day-Lewis is but one of many in a long line of people to portray "honest Abe." Henry Fonda contributed to cinema's examination of this figure during his youthful, early days in politics in Young Mr. Lincoln, Joseph Henabary gave his interpretation in the epic and controversial Birth of a Nation, and who could forget Robert V. Barron's rendering during Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure: "Be excellent to each other!"

Benjamin Chapin brings Lincoln to life on stage.

However, few are familiar with the name Benjamin Chapin, the man who performed the role of Abraham Lincoln for years in vaudeville. Bearing a very strong resemblance to the former president, Chapin put the coincidence to use and played to packed houses in "A Day with Abraham Lincoln" at the turn of the century, merely 30 (or so) years after Lincoln's assassination. A dedicated researcher, he devoted his life to learning all he could about Lincoln's life, and in time wrote his own play, which he entitled "Lincoln" and put on the stage in Hartford, CT in 1906. In the words of noted Hollywood biographer E.J. Fleming: 

"Each act was a different Civil War event: the Fall of Fort Sumter, the Battle of Gettysburg, the end of the War, and the last day of Lincoln's life... told amid the tale of two soldiers in love with Mrs. Lincoln's neice, Kate Morris, one a loyal Union soldier and the other a Confederate spy."

It was a huge success, and Chapin's portrayal was highly revered. He and his company traveled from city to city, playing in increasingly respectable theatres, and were often in competition with the antithesis to the work-- the more racist play "The Clansman," soon to become the D.W. Griffith film Birth of a Nation. Chapin too would make some films by serializing his play. After forming Charter Features Corp. in New Jersey, he eventually churned out over ten pictures. Interestingly enough, the infamous writer/producer/director Paul Bern would work with him in 1917. He would direct several of his two-reelers, including My Mother, The Spirit Man and Myself, The Lincoln Man.

When Lincoln Paid, with Francis Ford as the Prez (1917).

Unfortunately, just as Chapin was hitting his stride in pictures, having landed a contract with Famous Players, he passed away after a bout of tuberculosis. He was but 43-years-old. This marked the end of the first, major Lincoln player in cinema, but there would be many more. The story of Abe's life seems to grow only more fascinating as the years pass and as scholars and historians chip away at the complications and passions beneath his gentle soul. Thus, from D.W's 1930 film Abraham Lincoln to the recent Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, we continue to remain enthralled and enthused by a man who represented all that was good, just, and honorable in our always struggling, always striving, democratic nation.

NOW THAT'S FUNNY: Part X

Unlike most starlets, Jean Harlow liked to pal around with the

 crew in between takes. Indeed, she did them many favors...

Barbara Stanwyck (left) had a reputation around Hollywood. A good one. She was the consummate professional on the set and consistently impressed her director and co-stars. Members of the film crew were too fans and always gave her a big, warm greeting when she appeared on the sound stage every day. But, Babs went through a rough patch after her separation from Robert Taylor in 1952. She still put on a brave front, but the entire episode had been taxing to her mentally and emotionally. Her sense of self was at a low and her sexual confidence too was not what it used to be. As a result, while she was still hard-working on the set, she was also not herself. She didn't seem to trust herself as she used to. Fritz Lang, who directed her in Clash by Night, was one of many who recognized this. Her angst came to the fore when Babs uncharacteristically took umbrage with a particular scene, insisting that it was badly written and that she didn't want to do it. The plot of the film revolved around a sexually undernourished woman who cuckolds her husband. Fritz drew a connection between the plot and Babs's personal life-- in which she had been cuckolded-- and decided to use it to his advantage, and hers. While discussing the scene, Fritz asked if he could speak honestly. "Naturally," Babs replied. Fritz then stated that he felt nothing was wrong with the scene nor the writing, but that Babs-- via the material-- was being reminded of recent events in her own life. It was thus she that was "off," not the script. This information seemed to take her by surprise and knock her off balance. Babs took a long look at Fritz, drew in a  breath, and seemed to come to a realization. She finally replied: "You son of a bitch." With that, she took but a moment to get in character, hit her mark, and filmed the 2 1/2 page scene perfectly in one take. Babs was back. Good thing Fritz was a smart son of a bitch!

Clearly, Barbara's down to earth, straight-shooter demeanor was what ingratiated her to the people she worked with, and to her fans as well. However, this non-diva persona would ironically also get her into trouble. Babs was far from a glamour goddess. This may have had a lot to do with her harsh upbringing, where she simply valued the integral over the superficial. She also, like all women, was secretly self-conscious and did not have a great deal of confidence in her beauty. As a result, it would take her awhile to find her footing in terms of Hollywood fashion, though with the help of designers like Edith Head, she would eventually prove to not only wear gorgeous clothes but wear then well. Of course, this was only on the screen. In reality, she was still the same old Babs. This is what landed her in trouble. She would be riding on a high when she wrapped on Stella Dallas in 1937. Proud of her performance, she was ecstatic about seeing the finished product at its premiere. When she approached the theater, however, she was man-handled and kept at bay by one of the policeman, who was acting as a security guard. He wouldn't let her pass! In her casual garb, he mistook her for one of the screaming fans, not believing that someone so simply dressed could be a movie star, let alone the star of the film! Luckily, Babs finally got past the brute, who certainly felt like a horse's ass after he realized that he had been detaining the Barbara Stanwyck. Babs learned a valuable lesson that day: fame is the key, but fashion is the ticket. (She shows her lighter side, right).

The Kennedy family nearly established the long abiding relationship between film and politics. The tradition Joseph Kennedy started with his  formation of RKO Pictures and his affairs with Gloria Swanson and Marlene Dietrich was continued by his son John, who made no qualms about his determination to go to Hollywood and... "introduce himself" to Sonja Henie. His list of conquests would come to include a fairly public affair with Marilyn Monroe and a bromance with Frank Sinatra. Both pairings would end badly. Another lady who had temporarily fallen into his trap was Gene Tierney (left), remembered today as one of the most beautiful women to ever grace the silver screen. While separated from husband Oleg Cassini, Gene began filming on Dragonwyck and met JFK, who made an impromptu visit to the set. Now, Gene was a smart lady, but in her vulnerable state, it wasn't difficult for the charming future president to seduce her. All of his compliments and attentions worked like a tonic on her, and soon enough they were enjoying an affair. At the very least, she was able to enact a little revenge on her philandering husband, Oleg. However, the tryst only lasted a year. Gene was head over heels in love, but-- as with most politicians-- Jack's intentions weren't honorable. He had aspirations toward the White House and considered a marriage to a film star to be in conflict with these ambitions. Like his father, he considered Hollywood to be his own private brothel and little more. Gene was broken hearted and betrayed. She managed to temporarily patch things up with Oleg, though the marriage was not to last. Just as she was getting her divorce, Jack was marrying his ideal mate, Jacqueline Lee Bouvier. By 1960, he was running for President. The entire country seemed to be falling under his spell... except Gene. She knew the man on intimate terms, and thus knew that what he promised and what he did were two different things. She voted for Nixon.

Jean Harlow was a sweetie-pie. If there was one thing the world at large could agree on, it was this. An inhumanly beautiful woman with an honest disposition and warm temperament, she didn't seem to have a cruel bone in her body. And what a body! Jean wasn't modest or ashamed when it came to her sexuality, as could be seen in her nude pictorial taken at the popular Griffith Park by photographer friend Edwin Bower Hesser. It was just the human body, what was the big deal? (You've seen one ass, you've seen 'em all). Of course, her controlling mother often coaxed her into displaying her more sensual side, because that was what drew attention and-- in Hollywood-- acting roles. Still, at the very least, Jean was able to maintain a sense of humor about it. If destiny decided to make her sexual joke, then by damn she was going to be the one laughing the loudest! Because she was able to make such fun of herself, she endeared herself to many of the men around her, who quickly saw the little girl beneath the erotic facade. As such, she was able to become chums with men like Spencer Tracy and Clark Gable, who otherwise would have been more inclined to seduce her. Instead, she won her way into their hearts and became like a sister to them. Clark in particular was protective of her, especially while filming Red Dust, portions of which had to be done after the "suicide" of Jean's husband, Paul Bern. Clark and director Victor Fleming, along with the rest of the male-heavy crew, were very supportive of her during her grief. This was their way of saying "thank you" to the girl that had brought so much sunshine into their lives-- an example of which occurred before the Bern tragedy. Jean was filming her infamous bathing sequence in a barrel with Clark (right). As the cameras rolled, before Victor called "action," Jean stood up from the barrel, topless, and shouted out: "This is for the boys in the editing room!" She then plunged back into the barrel, laughing hysterically with the rest of the very appreciative male crew. Unfortunately, the 'boys in the editing room' never got to see Jean's present. Victor immediately removed the film from the camera and destroyed it, knowing that if it ever got out it would be a publicity nightmare for her. Well, at least she tried!

Carrol Baker's (left) relationship with producer Joe Levine was not a happy one. They had a lengthy work relationship that spanned several films and, as she was under contract to him, he acted more finitely as her agent. Levine and her husband of the time, Jack Garfein, often behaved as an offensive team in pressuring her to take jobs she wasn't interested in. As such, over time, her antipathy for Levine grew, and she came to resent his boorish manners and at times underhanded business tactics. At one point, she suffered a nervous breakdown as a result of the brutal work regimen and constant mental and emotional stresses the men in her life were putting her through. A tough cookie, she eventually pulled herself together, crawled out from under her husband-- whom she had been supporting nearly their entire marriage-- and exorcised herself from Levine's control. In time, she let bygones be bygones and-- having reached a much better place in her life-- decided to not look back on her relationship with Levine with bitterness. After all, she had not been the only person to suffer under his tyranny. Later, she found herself in Rome on St. Patrick's Day, celebrating at the Irish Embassy. Suddenly, she felt herself being grabbed from behind. Before she knew it, she was spun around and was being bent backward in a passionate kiss from none other than Peter O'Toole! She had never met Peter, so she was obviously flabbergasted. "I love you!" he exclaimed. "Isn't this rather sudden?" she laughed. Peter explained that he had loved her ever since he had learned that she too had "suffered under the producer of a thousand broken promises, Joseph Levine!" Peter had worked with the obviously unmannerly Levine on The Lion in Winter. While the picture was a phenomenon, Levine's less than stellar reputation had sullied at least Peter's opinion of him. For her part, Carroll was finally grateful that Levine had come into her life, if only because he had earned her a smacker from the tall Englishman with piercing blue eyes!

John Gilbert was the Lothario of the silver screen. Handsome, gentlemanly, passionate, intelligent... and humorous. He definitely hit all the marks on a lady's checklist, including that of his good friend and neighbor Colleen Moore (right). Colleen had watched John indulge in and survive several romantic relationships, including that with second wife Leatrice Joy and his lengthy, tumultuous affair with Greta Garbo. Yet, while Colleen found him charming, she had never succumbed to his charms, if only because she didn't think their friendship worth the sacrifice. It's not like she wasn't tempted, though. Colleen would recall throwing a party for some of her more elite, straight-laced Hollywood friends. It was a classy affair, and as a gracious and down-to-earth lady herself, quiet nights like this-- enjoying conversation with articulate friends-- was much more enjoyable than the rag-tag benders that some of the other stars decided to indulge in. Yet, the peaceful harmony of her modest soiree was surreptitiously interrupted. Colleen happened to notice out of the corner of her eye that her maid was making exaggerated hand motions to get her attention. Colleen politely excused herself and asked her housekeeper, "What's the haps?" Her maid then explained that there was an unexpected visitor waiting for her. Upstairs. In her bed. "What?!" Colleen quickly made her way to her bedroom only to find John Gilbert lying in wait. He sat on her bed, under the covers, with a big grin on his face: "Well, here I am, you lucky woman!" Colleen couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing! This seemed an offer too good to refuse... But what to do about her uptight guests? Colleen stumbled back downstairs, her face probably still red from cackling, and quickly ushered her friends out the door. All this time, she wasn't quite certain whether she was going to accept John's seductive offer, or merely laugh off the incident as another one of his intoxicated blunders. However, he made the decision for her. When she returned to her bedroom, he had already gone. Oh, missed opportunities... In any case, this remained one of her favorite, hysterical memories of her troubled, boyish, and always adorable friend.

John tries his moves on Lillian Gish instead, in La Boheme.

HOT SPOTS in CA: The Hollywood Museum

The front lobby of The Hollywood Museum. 

After living in Los Angeles for six and a half years, I finally made it to one of the tourist cornerstones of Hollywood and Highland: The Hollywood Museum. You'd think it would be a no-brainer for me to visit this den of cinematic archaeology sooner, but in a way I am glad that I waited. Finding and exploring a new jewel is nice, especially after scouring the whole city and thinking that I'd left no stone unturned. Then again, perhaps the "cheesy" factor delayed my interest. Beings that the museum is located next to a Ripley's Believe It Or Not, I often opted for "not," thinking it was a mere magnet for out-of-towners and that there would be little to engage a true connoisseur's interest (ahem). Well, thank God I finally got bored on a Sunday, because to the museum I did go, and I left more than pleased.

One of the pairs of ruby slippers worn by Judy Garland 

during The Wizard of Oz.

Sandwiched between Ripley's and Mel's Diner, The Hollywood Museum is situated in the old Max Factor building at 1660 N. Highland Blvd. Due to its locale at the old make-up haven, the first floor is almost entirely dedicated to cosmetics and beauty. Different rooms, labeled by hair-color, feature different actresses, and artifacts like Joan Crawford's old make-up case are on display. The "Brownettes Only" room dedicates much of its space to Judy Garland: one of Frances Gumm's original, tiny stage outfits and Dorothy's Ruby slippers are proudly encased for drooling gawkers. The "Brunettes Only" room equally pays particular attention to Elizabeth Taylor, as the "Red Heads Only" does to Lucille Ball.

The dress Marilyn Monroe wore while entertaining the 

troops in Korea (Sorry for the glare).

The museum too, unbeknown to me, possesses one of the most extensive collections of Marilyn Monroe treasures, which are of course shown in the "Blondes Only" room. Her old makeup, famous dresses she wore, and a memorial case dedicated to her untimely death are visible, as is a strange gadget that seems to be an early attempt at the "face-lift." It bears a stronger resemblance to the iron maiden, but for your mug. Needless to say, (or should I say "needles?"), I was scared. Apart from the make-up rooms, the back corridors lead you to a garage where Marilyn's private limousine is parked. I wanted to get a closer look, but was afraid that the monkeys from the Planet of the Apes display would come after me.

The early face-lift: The Max Factor Beauty Calibration Machine, 

still raising eyebrows...

Also on the first floor is an extensive anthology of signatures collected by notorious autograph hound Joe Ackerman. This guy got everybody's John Hancock, and now the majority of them hang on the walls, encased in picture frames according to various movies. The cast of Gilda adorns one wall, Tarzan another, but most happily to me the cast of The Great Dictator was hanging for all to see, complete with the signatures of Paulette Goddard and the Charlie Chaplin. Down another walkway is a room featuring a miniature representation of the barn used as Cecil B. DeMille's first office, used when filming The Squaw Man. This is now known as the Hollywood Heritage Museum, another superb spot. Glamour shots of all of cinema's greatest stars-- Spencer Tracy, Bette Davis, Lon Chaney, etc-- also decorated the walls, along with some beautiful photos of Hollywood's growth from the early, nearly vacant silent years to the bustling times of Schwab's Diner. The temptation to slip one of these portraits under my arm was hard to fend off.

Ackerman autographs from The Great Dictator: Charlie, Paulette, 

Jack Oakie, and Billy Gilbert.

From here I went downstairs to the "Hall of Horrors," which apparently was once a speakeasy, and where now a great many props from classic horror films are on display. I spied the mask of Jason Voorhees, the dresses of Elvira and Vampira, and most impressively the facial casts of some of Horror's greatest stars: Lon Chaney, Jr, Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Peter Lorre, Vincent Price, and Christopher Lee (left). There was more than scary-stuff downstairs, however, and I was pleased with a display showcasing wardrobe from both the 1917 and 1934 versions of Cleopatra. Theda Bara's headdress and Claudette Colbert's gown were both featured. The big finale was the long, dark walk down Hannibal Lane, where a complete re-creation of Lecter's cell stood waiting at the very end. I admit that I got chills when nearing it. As in the film, a folded chair awaited Clarice Starling, and Hopkins's inmate costume and infamous mask within the cell completed the illusion.

Can you smell the fava beans? (Sorry for the darkness).

The upper floors are dedicated to rotating displays, which is what makes the museum worthy of multiple visits. When I was there early this September, I lucked out in being able to witness the "Lucille Ball at 100, I Love Lucy at 60" display. In addition to several of the awards that the lovable Lucy won over the years, various props, costumes, and personal dresses she wore to awards shows were present. One of my favorite features was the famous "three-headed monster," which was an innovative piece of equipment used to film what is now considered the first official sitcom. Much attention was equally paid to Desi Arnaz, Vivian Vance, and William Frawley. As a Gustav Klimt fan, I was also appreciative of the "Portrait of Emilie Floge" re-creation with Lucy standing in for Emilie (right).

I Love Lucy's "Three-headed Monster."

And finally, the "piece de resistance" was the top level, devoted to one of my all time favorites, Jean Harlow. Another hundred year tribute, this exhibit proved that the sweet and gorgeous Jean continues to shine so many years after her death.  Much like the Lucy display, there were several dresses to view, as well as enlarged photos of the glamour vixen (in youthful days, left), and personal letters and documents on display. Seeing first-hand the correspondence and penmanship of this silver screen goddess was quite moving, especially when perusing cute notes to friends and colleagues. As big as she became, Jean clearly always remained down to earth and loyal to her pals. Another object worth mentioning was the movie star mural that husband Paul Bern apparently commissioned for their short-lived home together on Benedict Canyon. It depicts a fictional, ancient banquet scene with Jean at center table and other actresses like Joan Crawford and Norma Shearer in attendance. It was quite decadent and unexpected. By far, the most impressive was her personal Packard on display. I don't know much about automobiles, but in this case it was love at first sight. Jean definitely had taste.

Jean's 1932 Phaeton Packard. Yum.

In the back on this same floor, more space was dedicated to other historical mementos, including a roulette table from the infamous Pickfair, gowns worn by Mae West, Greta Garbo, and Clara Bow, and Pee Wee Herman's bicycle. I wish I had had more time to really peruse everything with great scrutiny, but I literally would have had to spend hours there to do so. All in all, it was a great experience with some truly jaw-dropping exhibits and unexpected charms. The downside was that in appearance the museum was a bit cluttered, but I could hardly blame them with all of the artifacts they have to jam into one place. It's still worth a visit to those truly interested in Hollywood history and the preservation of its favorite players. I will definitely be going back when a new display comes to town. 

The much beloved Roddy MacDowell's powder room, complete 

with friends' pictures and autographs.

To visit the The Hollywood Museum: 

1660 N. Highland Avenue

Hollywood, CA 90028

323-464-7776

$15 for Adults

Open 10am-5pm Wed-Sun.

http://thehollywoodmuseum.com/