STAR OF THE MONTH: Linda Darnell

Linda Darnell: the "Glory Girl."

Linda Darnell was just a regular girl from Texas, but most importantly, she was just a girl. Scooped up by Twentieth-Century Fox when she was just 15-years-old, her adolescent, romanticizing mind would become both awestruck at her good fortune and dumbfounded at the illusion it turned out to be. Her dream-come-true turned out to be a malfunctioning nightmare that clipped her young life short after robbing her of her youthful innocence. Linda Darnell was a beautiful, fresh creature forced into an environment that didn't suit her naivete nor cater to her vulnerabilities. Like a tortoise without a shell, she would come to seek refuge where she could find it: in her work, in her dreams, in alcohol, in denial... But nothing could protect her from her own violent fate-- when the living Hell of her life and torment came to claim her, suffocating forever the little girl hopes that had promised a castle in the sky and brought her instead face to face with the Big Bad Wolf. But shed no tears for this casualty: she was a tougher cookie than you think...


How is it that we all start out on the same end of this yellow brick road, but wind up in different places? A great many on their travels decide to turn around, for "there's no place like home." Others get lost in the seductive poppy fields; others' routes are cut short by their own personal wicked witch. Very few make it to the Emerald City. Linda was one of those who thought she had arrived only to realize that she had landed somewhere else. The "witch" of her life, as is too often the case, was her mother. Oh, mother... What a complicated relationship. The love and support of good parenting seems to be at the backbone of nearly every success story, while every Hollywood victim seems to be plagued by the lack of it. For every Ginger Rogers there are a dozen like Harlow, Lake, Flynn, Bow, and Gilbert. So it was that Linda by bad fortune was born to Maggie Pearl Brown. This is not to say that Pearl was a wholly bad parent, bereft of maternal instinct, nor that she did not truly love her children. Certainly, the woman had her good qualities. Her flaw, however, was a fatal one in that she projected all of her own dreams and desires onto her daughter Linda's back. What she failed to accomplish for herself, she vowed to vicariously triumph through her second born-- the most beautiful of her children, the most talented, and also the one most like herself. To understand the life of Linda, you have to understand Pearl.

Linda with her mother, Pearl.

Pearl was the daughter of Mary York and Thomas Gaugh Brown. Her father passed on his half-Cherokee blood to his tempestuous daughter, whose restless unruly spirit yearned for an exciting life outside Clifton, TN. A beautiful young woman, she enjoyed and craved attention, but was loathe to settle down in the conventional way and start a home and family like the other girls. Inside her beat the heart of a wild thing, and her "otherness" shirked convention and jumped into the arms of Lawrence Ketroe after her father's untimely passing. At 14, she was married, and soon she had birthed two children: Richard and Evelyn. Larry's ambitions were ill defined, and after the family ran out of cash, Larry ran out on them. Her dreams dashed, Pearl now found herself a lone mother of two living in Texas. But the grief that resulted from her youthful impetuosity was coupled with an iron will. For all her faults, she wanted to provide for her children-- she may be temporarily beaten, but broken she was not. Forced to put Richard and Evelyn in temporary care at an orphanage, Pearl went into a rage when she learned that they had been adopted by new parents and were forever out of her reach. Here, the last tether of tenderness in her heart seemed to snap. Completely alone, Pearl obsessively embraced religion to keep her sanity. Her luck changed when she made the acquaintance of a bashful and soft-spoken postman, Calvin Roy Darnell. Intoxicated by her energy, he married her. The two moved into a modest house in Oak Cliff and had four children together: Undeen, Monetta, Monte, and son Calvin, Jr. (In an ironic twist, Pearl also discovered her two eldest children, Richard and Evelyn, living mere blocks away). At first, Pearl put more focus into pretty, eldest daughter Undeen, hoping that through dancing and elocution classes the younger party could finish what her mother had started. Undeen was not an entertainer, however, and proved both un-gifted and unwilling in the realm of performance. But Monetta, who was born with her mother's same dark, intense features, too seemed to inherit her eager gift for the stage.

Linda at about 14, dressed to the gills for one of her talent shows.

The question remains, did Monetta truly want to become a star, or was she brainwashed from her earliest memories to think that was what she wanted? A natural talent, Monetta's soft beauty and amiable nature made her easy prey for Pearl's ambitions. While Linda would inherit a temper to match her mother's, it was not as intense nor as frequent in its eruption. Monetta was "sweet" and well-liked whereas her mother was erratic, or as son Calvin put it, a "fire-breathing dragon." Monetta did not argue Pearl's wishes, wanting to please her and hoping that in doing so she could earn the love and affection that she had always craved. Monetta was thus crafted into a sensitive soldier: obedient, focused, and constantly stressed. So adamant was she that she had to become a movie star that she never stopped to ask if that was what she truly wanted. She found little time to play with the kids at her school, where she was well-liked but a bit ostracized for her impeccable appearance, far too mature for her years. Most of her time was spent at home, studying, learning piano, performing skits, or cavorting with the multiple animals that were housed with her family: chickens, turtles, rabbits, etc. It was a wild life, indeed. Monetta proved a model student who balanced her good grades with daydreams of stardom. She began performing in talent shows, usually singing "Alice Blue Gown," modeling, dancing, and even performing in some minor theaterical productions. As she was only a young-un when she really started making the rounds, she was coached by Pearl to tell judges that she was older. Despite her self-effacing nature, Monetta could be determined, which is what caught the attention of scout Ivan Kahn. Charmed by Monetta, he was shocked to learn that she was only 14! A screen test was scheduled, and though Fox was interested, Monetta's age posed a problem: too young for an ingenue, too old for child roles.

Linda stars opposite her childhood crush Tyrone Power in The Mark of Zorro.

Undeterred, Monetta diligently kept in touch with Fox while concurrently landing a short-term contract at RKO for their "Gateway to Hollywood Contest." The competition intrigued Darryl F. Zanuck, who decided that he wanted Monetta at Fox after all, with a couple of stipulations-- she change her name to Linda, and she leave the finagling Pearl behind. By now convinced that this was her own dream and determined to escape Pearl's clutches, the new "Linda Darnell" made no objections and made her big debut in Hotel for Women. Life was good. Living with Undeen in her early Hollywood days, Linda quickly became accustomed to the long hours, publicity gamuts, and the art of film acting. Suddenly, the little Texan girl was being cast in films opposite her crush Tyrone Power: Daytime Wife, Brigham Young, The Mark of Zorro, and Blood and Sand. In most of her early roles, she portrayed the young, virginal figure-- American as apple pie and sweet as candy. Yet, the flash was not enough to alter her sensibilities. Linda did not become a party girl, but preferred to stay at home and read or prep for the next day's work. Still a teen, Linda may have been intoxicated by the freedom-- something that she had never experienced under Pearl's control-- but she was still impressionable and uncertain on her own. Since her parents' marriage was long since one in name only, and Calvin had preferred life outside the home, Linda too was longing for the paternal figure she'd never really had. For this reason, she quickly fell under the spell of the attentive cinematographer, Pev Marley. With a 22 year age difference, few in the community saw it coming when they eloped on April 18, 1943.

 

Linda shocked fans and critics with her sultry, stunning turn in Summer Storm.

Pev provided the shoulder Linda needed to cry on, the support system that bulked up her confidence, and the sounding board that advised her in her career. Despite this, the marriage was a rocky one. With Linda's insecurity and tender age, arguments and misunderstandings were imminent, and Linda's personal pain was only deepened when she discovered that she could not bear children. The result, adopting daughter Lola, brought some light into her life, but constant threats of divorce and reconciliations made her private life a hazard, especially after she moved her entire family out to California and had to contend with Pearl's jealousy and constant implications of ingratitude. Ironically, Linda's career was soaring. Growing sick of her sweet girl roles, she turned the tables by showing up as grown woman with an edge in films like Summer Storm and her greatest triumph A Letter to Three Wives-- which incidentally ignited a passionate affair between herself and director Joseph L. Manckiewicz. She hoped the hot and heavy film adaptation Forever Amber would be her true star-making turn, but it failed to draw in the expected business. A success it was; a legend of filmmaking it was not. The experience nearly killed her, as she was on a strenuous diet that induced multiple collapses on the set. Her unfortunate crutch during times of woe was the bottle, a habit taught her by her husband. Under the influence, the normally kind and sweet-natured Linda became angry, unmanageable, and filthy of tongue. As her marriage finally crumbled, Linda found herself on her own once again, especially after her contract with Fox was cancelled-- a result of the new-fangled invention known as television that was picking off stars one by one. Suddenly, the phone stopped ringing, parts were few and far between, and Linda was left to face herself for the first time.

Linda's role in A Letter to Three Wives was her favorite and her most 

remembered. Who can forget the line: "What I got don't need beads." 

(With Ann Sothern and Jeanne Crain).

Having grown up on dreams of film and then later on film sets, life outside the movies was unfathomable. Suffering too much too soon, Linda had developed into a lost child of sorts. She was raised as an adult and had matured into a disconcerted infant. Once a star, she was already out of work at 28. Linda took jobs in television and found herself to be a natural actress on the stage-- an experience she found more gratifying than any of her film work-- and she too sought comfort in love, marrying twice more to Phillip Liebmann and Merle Roy Robertson-- both unsuccessful. To cleanse her soul, she devoted herself to charity, opening up "The Girls Town of Italy" and working with "The Kidney Foundation," but it did not salve the pain of her own disintegrating relationship with her daughter Lola nor the pain of discovery that her long time lover's latest film-- The Barefoot Contessa, which Mankiewicz had penned for her-- had gone to Ava Gardner and not herself. Unsuccessfully freelancing, Linda landed roles here and there, but after Zero Hour! in 1957, she would be off the big screen for seven years. Stage roles and nightclub acts became the main sources of her income. After her third marriage collapsed, she tried to commit suicide multiple times via overdose, but was fortunately saved. Her home and belongings were auctioned off, and Linda was right back where she started: nowhere. Linda suffered through a bout of alopecia areata, the death of first husband Pev-- with whom she had remained friendly-- and unemployment, but still she would accept help from no one. She was determined to build herself back up on her own terms, as she had never done before. The process strangely brought her closer to Lola, and friends started seeing the sweet girl that they had always known re-emerging from a cocoon of bitterness and cynicism, which for years had become her only protection.

Fox had hoped the Forever Amber would be the equivalent of Gone with the Wind 

for their studio. While a financial success, it was not a windfall, and it was a 

bitter disappointment for Linda. (With Cornel Wilde).

Life seemed to be turning in the right direction again when Linda was cast in a cameo role in Black Spurs, and she was a hit with the cast and crew-- all who delighted in working with a legend who was as kind and down to earth as they had always imagined. Staying with longtime friend Jeanne Curtis in April of '65, Linda was determined to fix her finances and get back on track. Late on the night of the 8th, she saw that Star Dust, one of her earliest films, was playing on Television. As a lark, the group, including Jeanne's daughter Patty, sat watching the film, then everyone went off to bed-- except for Linda, who as always was suffering from insomnia. Some time in the night, the house caught fire. The three women were able to reach each other, and through the smoke and flames Jeanne managed to get Patty out an upstairs window, but when she turned behind her for Linda, her friend had disappeared. Jeanne made it outside and waited for the appearance of her friend, but Linda's charred body would not emerge until the fire department arrived and barely saved her life. With ninety percent of her body covered in burns, Linda held on for thirty-three hours as friends and well-wishers flooded her room with flowers. At 2:20pm on April 10, 1965, Linda Darnell made her final exit at the age of forty-one. The news was kept from Pearl, who passed on less than a year later.

Linda's beauty was always mixed with a wholesomeness that 

made her castable as the girl-next-door or

 man's most dangerous threat.

A shooting star is here and gone, seen only by a lucky few before it disappears into the dark recesses of space. So too was Linda's short life a "blink and you'll miss it" affair; her stardom a phenomenon so brief that attempting to catch it out of the corner of one's eye is certain to result in a sort of existential whiplash. Too much of Linda's life was built upon a fable-- a dream that stardom would bring her happiness and fulfilment. Hollywood became a religion to her, one she practiced devoutly, until her faith was pulled out from under her by time, circumstance, and perhaps simply the cruel hands of fate. In her later years, though still young years, Linda would for the first time discover herself as a human being, question her desires, and attempt to clean up the mess that a lifetime of delusions had made. Just as she started to embark on her second chance adventure, all hope was snuffed out. Luckily, Linda did not fade away with her last breaths. Her memory is still cherished by those who knew her-- friends like Ann Miller who recall the friendly, old-fashioned girl with a love of animals and a generous spirit. The innocent girl who was tread upon and manipulated by a corrupt business too remains gorgeous and unaltered in the films that gave her the only peace she ever knew. Whether one prefers the doe-eyed Linda or the femme fatale, her films are there to satisfy. With the best of her left on the silver screen, even the savage ending of her life cannot tarnish what we hold dear. As Keats said, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever./ Its loveliness increases; it will never/ Pass into nothingness." And so it is that Linda's "Star Dust" lingers, and we remain mesmerized.

HOT SPOTS in CA: The Gene Autry Western Heritage Museum

In the old west you had to be "in it to win it." Could you stand days on end 

in this cramped space?

Marlene Dietrich is most remembered for her seductive roles in top and tails, but the German vixen was also a surprising hit in Westerns. Her most popularly remembered role is that of Frenchy in Destry Rides Again, but she also starred in The Spoilers and Rancho Notorious. Her co-star in The Spoilers just so happens to be last month's L.A. La star, John Wayne. So, in honor of both, here is further tribute to the Western via the delightful and very informative Autry National Center. Giddy up!

~     ~     ~

Located in the seemingly infinite space of Griffith Park, this gem is housed right across the parking lot from the Los Angeles Zoo. Inside, there are both permanent displays that commemorate the very harrowing, inspiring, and sometimes violent roots of our nation's past and westward movement-- as well as the manifestation of this history in our cinematic past-- and temporary, rotating displays that showcase different artists, craftsman, etc, which are evidence of our still adherent yet evolving culture from these early days. The museum itself is named for Hollywood's favorite singing cowboy, Gene Autry, but gunslingers aren't the only faction of our culture that are examined: the American Indian, women, Chinese immigrants, Mexicans, etc. are all showcased, and the interrelations between these many peoples are thoroughly investigated.

Gene greets his guests.

The navigation of the fairly large building begins, as always, at the beginning. The front entrance is encased in a courtyard, smack in the center of which is a sculpture commemorating Mr. Autry. Behind him is a movie theater, which occasionally plays, of course, Westerns or other educational programs, and across from this is a small eatery. Attached to the main building is the gift shop, in which one can purchase anything from the usual cheesy knick-knack, to old movie posters, to American Indian crafts like the "secret box"-- which is a very intricately detailed and beautifully designed box that an unskilled person will have an incredible amount of trouble opening. Luckily, this wasn't my first rodeo. (BTW, if you're interested, I particularly like Heartwood Creations, which can be found here).

Alberto Valdes's "Christmas Child."

The inner sanctum is divided into an upstairs and a down. The upper left is dedicated to two rotating displays. When I attended last, I was fortunate enough to be able to view "Art Along the Hyphen: The Mexican-American Generation," which obviously honors the "Chicano" artists in our nation's history. All of the portraits and sculptures were very vivid in their perspective of Mexican-American life, from the beauty of to the struggle of the Mexican immigrant. The greatest surprise to me was my introduction to the artist Alberto Valdes whose provocative paintings were composed of such vibrant colors that they literally seemed to glow. His palette and use of shapes produce the most amazing emotional effects and equally stimulate the eye and mind. A few of his pictures were very specific in the images that they were trying to relate, while others were more intricate and subjective-- surreal but not bizarre. Forgive me, I'm not an art major, so I don't know the correct terms. In layman's terms, they were pretty and pretty cool.

Just a few strands of entwined grass. No biggie.

The next showroom possessed a collection of American Indian basketry. I know what you're thinking: "Baskets... Riveting." Well, it kind of was. In the center of the room was a large circular map of the entire country, and the locations of different tribes were delineated by examples of their particular weaving "style." It was a truly interesting thing to see how the different techniques and artistic penchants varied based on the separate tribes and their regions. As for the baskets themselves, which came in all shaped and sizes, these things were intricate! There were some jaw-dropping videos playing that showed modern weavers at work, and to say that their fingers are nimble is an understatement. I'm still not at all certain how they are able to make all of those delicious little patterns with the wicker and sweetgrass and whatnot, but my lack of awareness did not hamper my aesthetic enjoyment.

The gang's all here: Hollywood's favorite cowboys decorate

the downstairs wall in a jaw-dropping mural.

Moving downstairs, I was immediately hit in the face with an exquisite mural depicting early man's emergence in the west transitioning to the cowboy movie star. The portrait is literally a panorama of visual history. It begins with the hey-day of the American Indian, moves to the collision of natives and white settlers, and ends with movie and television stars like Gary Cooper, Tom Mix, and William S. Hart. It was at this point that I realized non-flash photography was allowed and all of the covert pics that I had been taking were unnecessary. I thought I was being stealthy; turns out no one cared. After taking some shots of the astounding painting, I turned directly behind me and ventured to the outdoor exhibit that tried to bring to life the physical environment and vegetation of the old west. A small space composed of a mini-waterfall and pond, there really wasn't much to look at, but a couple of kids were having a heck of a time "sifting for gold" at an educational exhibit.

One of many reasons I am proud to be a (modern) American-

better medical care.

Thus I re-entered and began my investigation of the historical portion of the museum. This turned out to be my favorite part. I have been to history museums before, but it has admittedly been awhile, so perhaps that is why I was so enthralled with all of the archaeology, or maybe it was the specificity of the subject matter that I found so fascinating. In any case, what I was about to witness was a thorough, moving, and surprising tribute to America's early expansion. The bottom level is divided into three portions: Opportunity, Community, and The Cowboy. I started in "Opportunity," and found myself looking at typical odds and ends of civilian life now made atypical due to their antiquated state. I was most impressed with an early medical kit, perhaps because I have two family members in the dental profession, and I found myself grabbing my jaw and thanking God that medical science has progressed. Much of this section was dedicated to the story of early militia or lawmen, and several compartments honored their efforts toward the establishment of order in the Wild West-- not an easy task as people continued to make their move into the unknown and ungoverned territory. Old uniforms, still in incredible condition, were showcased, as well as weaponry. Other items typically found on the long stage rides-- remember this is pre-locomotive-- were also on display, including luggage, toiletries, and an old coach in toto. Looking at the size of the thing, I was at once impressed by how much larger it was than I had imagined and also was in awe of the fact that, despite this, it still seemed far too small for so many people to be packed inside for such long travels. Our forefathers and mothers were certainly patient.

The integration of the American Indian into typical eastern ways was not 

smooth nor welcome. But here is an example of such 

assimilation-- native law adapts to "foreign" 

government to protect their own.

In the next section, I came across examples of every day life in the West. The most intriguing portion was dedicated to dissecting all of the different factions and how they operated independently from and also in relation to each other. Racism was an issue that certainly came to the forefront, and it was amazing to see even in these early days how many different religions and ethnicities co-existed and at the same time sought their own individual spaces from each other. Mormons, Chinese Immigrants, African American, Italians... You name it. in these early days, birds of a feather flocked together to produce some sort of stability amidst the chaos that came, not just from the danger and suspicion of the nature around them nor from the Native Americans observing them with equal puzzlement and frustration, but from each other. The color of one's skin, the religion he practiced, or the nation from which he had come, became defining factors that tied him to his own people and divided him from all others. As this co-mingling slowly merged into a (slightly) more civilized combination of communities, prejudice gave way to abundance. But along with the daily laundry and cooking, there too was need for fun, which is why the saloon room was one of the highlights of the exhibit for me. With an actual bar complete with ancient liquor bottles and beer advertisements, poker tables, and a roulette wheel, I could almost smell the tobacco. If there is one thing that brings all mankind together, it's liquor.

Can ya' smell the whiskey?

The final portion was completely dedicated to the life of the cowboy. In addition to a display depicting the famous shoot-out at the OK Corral featuring Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp, there too was a Colt gallery with some of the most amazing pistols I have ever seen: jewelry for men. Further down, several displays replicated the daily life and toil of the authentic American cowboy, and it was nowhere near as glamorous as the movies portray it, lemme tell ya'. These men worked hard, sweated, fought steers, tangled with barbed wire, and drove cattle across the country, not so much in the name of progress or money-- excluding of course the cattle baron-- but to survive. For the authentic cowboy, the lifestyle possessed no glamour and little respite. It was simply a job-- a way to make a living. Strange how the memory of these pioneers has evolved into perhaps the most romanticized piece of American mythology. However, our continuing appreciation is a good thing. Without these fellows of spur and saddle putting down roots, we wouldn't be sittin' so pretty in our ivory towers, now would we?

A couple of the prize Colts on display. Purty ain't they?

Which brings me to the final portion of the museum: "Imagination." This section was dedicated entirely to the cowboy as a cultural icon and the way he has manifested himself in several mediums, including music, television, and-- of course-- movies. From the silent heroes, to the rhinestone cowboys, to the singin' Gene Autry, every brand of Western celebrity was investigated. Movie buffs will be pleased to see costumes from some of their favorite films as worn by their favorite performers, including Clint Eastwood, John Wayne, and Betty Hutton. Because the Western genre has become somewhat buried in present cinema, it was nice to see so much of it revived for public viewing, and the true impact that it has had on this country and its descendants was blatantly identified. Perhaps because this is a history that only we as Americans possess, do we cherish it so greatly. Of course, the power of the cowboy and the Western has drifted into other countries and affected other filmmakers and other film goers, but it is a past that is undeniably in our bones and a part of our souls. There is no cowboy but the American cowboy, which is perhaps why the stars of the silver screen who adorned their heads with ten gallon hats remain some of the most revered in the history of film.

The costumes of Duke and Kate from Rooster Cogburn.

My voyage of the museum over for the time being, I reluctantly departed. As I drove through the winding roads of Griffith Park in the luxury of my Mazda, I found myself grateful for the fruits I had been gifted after a hard won progression of others' labors. But too, I found myself envious of a rugged life of sweat and determination-- a life earned every day by the mere cost of living it. Though the history that I encountered at the Autry Museum is, indeed, history, I don't feel that what I witnessed there is dead. I think every American and every man, woman, and child who ever has or ever will come to American shores for a better life, possesses within him the same inexplicable need to carve out a niche for himself in an open space wherein he can toil, battle, and finally thrive as the keeper of his own destiny. With crowded cities and cement everywhere, it is hard to see the forest without the trees, but our personal adventures of stakes and claims continue. The Wild West, therefore, will always grow and expand within us, for we carry it in our hearts.

A few of Chuck Connors's belongings.

To visit The Autry Museum:

Griffith Park

4700 Western Heritage Way
Los Angeles, CA 90027-1462
T: 323.667.2000
Tuesday–Friday, 10:00 a.m.–4:00 p.m.

Saturday–Sunday, 11:00 a.m.–5:00 p.m.
Closed on Mondays.

$10 for Adults.

$6 Seniors and Students

$4 Children 3-12 years-old

Free for Children under 3.

Free Parking.

MENTAL MONTAGE: The Sincerest Form of Flattery

Marlene, as an extreme personality- here in Blonde Venus-- 

was practically begging to be caricatured.

The struggle for fame and celebrity in Hollywood is a continual one. Even when someone has a few films under his belt and has a somewhat familiar face, the work that goes into maintaining his star status and position is more difficult than the public can ever imagine. Therefore, it naturally follows that no celeb is ever comfortable on his pedestal, which at any moment may topple. If he takes a break to blink, his moment may be over forever. From the outside, it looks easy, but to the one swimming upstream, it is impossible to ever utter the words, "I made it!" There is one tell-tale sign, however, to intimate that one has evolved past the cluster of "working actors" to the realm of bona fide "star," or perhaps even to the land of "legend." If you're popular enough to be mocked, heavily referenced, or flat-out imitated, you may have finally surmounted the curve. Today's stars can look forward to a lambast on "SNL" or "South Park," but before the days of television, there were only movies. Here are some stars who were big enough to be [mocked] in pictures.

The most obvious example is the hilarious haranguing of this month's muse, Marlene Dietrich, by one of the Queens of Comedy, Madeline Kahn, in Blazing Saddles (left). Mel Brooks's lampoon of the Western genre was derived from many classic films, including Dodge City, but the reference to Destry Rides Again never becomes more obvious than when Madeline takes the stage as Lili Von Schtupp. "Lili," one assumes, is a reference to one of Marlene's classic songs, "Lili Marleen" and "Schtupp" to... well, that's one Yiddish word everyone understands, I think. Madeline's every mannerism as Lili is clearly taken from the assertively sexual "Frenchy" that Marlene portrayed in Destry, and Madeline's impression of Marlene's accented speech is too humorously exaggerated and aped: "Oh, a wed wose..." Nothing is so spectacular as her rendition of the original song, "I'm So Tired." Her comedic expertise makes the performance more than a hammy imitation, it is genius. With Gene Wilder's so-quick-you'll-miss-it gun draw and Cleavon Little's confident and sly portrayal of the west's first black sheriff, there are few moments for one to draw breaths between laughs during the film, but it is Madeline's Marlene that takes the cake. As Marlene was still alive when the film was released, one wonders at her reaction, if she even saw it. Another screen beauty, Hedy Lamarr, gets a "shout out" as well, since Harvey Korman's character is named "Hedley Lamar." However, Hedy was not flattered, and sued Mel Brooks for what she considered to be the gross use of her name.

Another great parody comes via Carole Lombard in The Princess Comes Across. This screwball comedy is a mish-mash of mystery, murder, and maritime love. Carole portrays actress wannabe Wanda Nash who, in order to conceal her identity, pretends to be a Swedish princess (Olga) on her cruise to America, resulting in a lengthy, pitch-perfect send up of none other than Greta Garbo. From the moment Carole appears as Olga, beautiful, glamorous, and aloof, there is no question as to whom she is imitating. Her distant, irritated poise and uber-European accent-- "Dis is verry annoying..."-- draws an instant comparison to the eternal, gorgeous hermit who only wanted to "be alone." Of course, Carole is at her best when the mask comes off and her abrupt Brooklyn character has time to rant and fuss about the stress of maintaining her hidden identity and dealing with all those dead bodies that keep piling up on deck. A romance too ensues between Olga/Wanda and bandleader King Mantell, portrayed by a constant Carole co-star, (there's an alliteration for ya'), Fred MacMurray. Greta's very anti-social, dramatic, enigmatic, and slightly egotistical persona made her an easy person to duplicate, but through Carole's comedic expertise the likeness is exquisite (see right). With that special Carole stamp, we have a character who is part elegant and part kooky. For one great Hollywood screen goddess to portray another is superb, and the divide between the easy-going, deviant manner of Carole versus the otherworldy iciness of Garbo is both clear and divine.

In the film Monkey Business, Groucho, Chico, Zeppo, and Harpo Marx all used their singing skills and slight physical resemblance to Maurice Chevalier to comic effect. On yet another seafaring voyage, the four brothers are stow-aways (see left) who cause the usual amount of Marxian chaos and girl-chasing on their way to America. Groucho woos Thelma Todd, Zeppo befriends a pretty passenger, and Harpo and Chico step in as the vessel's very under-qualified barbers, all while evading capture and the anger of one very miffed gangster. After they make it across the Atlantic, they are left in a quandary: without passports, they will  be unable to disembark. Luckily, they swipe an ID from a passenger who coincidentally happens to be the Maurice Chevalier. One by one, they take turns offering the passport to the authorities, who of course doubt their identity. Forced to prove themselves as the French crooner and Lothario, they each sing the Chevalier classic, "You Brought a New Kind of Love to Me," only to be denied access to American soil for their very poor impersonations. Ironically, the deliberately mute Harpo comes closest to victory, as he lip syncs the verses to a recording strapped on his back, but a slight malfunction botches his liberation as well. However, as in all things Marx, all's well that ends crazily, and hats off to Maurice for the honorary mention.

A very direct homage was paid to everyone's favorite ghoul, Boris Karloff (right), as well. "Arsenic and Old Lace" was a play penned by Joseph Kesselring in the early '40s. The plot revolved around two lovable old ladies who perform the benevolent service of murdering old, lonely men past their prime-- somewhat akin to the way the Eskimos set their elder community members adrift, or so I've heard. Their plot is discovered by their nephew, Mortimer, who is in the midst of possible matrimony. As if the shock of blood on his sweet aunties' hands isn't enough, he too has to combat an uncle who thinks he's Teddy Roosevelt, and his brother Jonathan, another murdering criminal, who returns home with a new face to hide his identity. Unfortunately, the doctor who performed the plastic surgery was intoxicated during the operation, and Jonathan came out looking like... Boris Karloff. Of all the horrifying faces to be trapped with! Audiences totally responded to the joke, which obviously runs throughout the entire play. Of course, the real clincher was that Boris Karloff was playing the role of Jonathan himself! Sadly, for various contractual reasons, Boris was unable to participate in the film version of 1944, which starred Cary Grant as Mortimer and the capable Raymond Massey stepping in as the facially mutated Jonathan. Since the play and the film made Boris even more immortal than he already was, I suppose he had the last laugh.

Sometimes, in the quest for stardom, one starlet makes it over another by a hair. This was definitely the case with Veronica Lake, whose iconic 'do (left) made her a sensation in her own day and keeps her a legend in ours. Ronni's hair was her "thing," just like Marlene was known for her gams and Jimmy Durante was known for his schnoz. Articles were written about her mop's hygienic upkeep and daily grooming regimen, public service announcements for safety were made with her hair used as a prop, and countless jokes were made at her expense. Possessing a good sense of humor, Ronni took the jests in kind. After all, they only helped to boost her appeal. If it took her mane to keep her in the mainstream, then so be it. Yet another reference to her famous tresses was made in Billy Wilder's first directorial effort, The Major and the Minor. Ginger Rogers, in yet another case of hidden identity, runs into trouble when she cannot afford an adult train ticket, which causes her to pose as an adolescent for cheaper fare. Unfortunately, she gets mixed up with, and sexually attracted to, fellow traveler Ray Milland while in disguise and winds up at his military academy still portraying a precocious pre-teen. Forced to attend a junior dance, she encounters a room full of young women who "all think they're Veronica Lake": cue camera pan to a row of seated girls with their faces half-covered in hair. It is a priceless guffaw that is typical of Wilder's comedies. Not only was it a fantastic gag at the time, but this small, hilarious reference also places it firmly in its timeline when modern viewers watch it today.

Speaking of sexpots... Marilyn Monroe topped them all (right). Her star power would be exemplified ad nauseum during her life, as it continues to be in her death, but interestingly it too was brought to life via Jack Lemmon. The two had worked together in the film Some Like It Hot, and while the consummately professional Jack was a little put off by Marilyn's at times erratic behavior, he could not deny her inexplicable charisma and warmth, which in the end gave him a soft spot for her. A year later, now as one of Billy Wilder's favorite actors, Jack was given the leading role in The Apartment opposite Shirley MacLaine. Acclaimed for its comedy and sympathy, it in a way reunited Jack with his conflicted friend when one particular scene pays homage to Marilyn-- although, since Billy too worked with Marilyn, this was a way of professionally tipping his hat to her screen power despite their post-Hot feud. Early in the film, Jack's C.C. Baxter is called by work colleague Joe Dobisch (Ray Walston), who is in a frenzy, because he just picked up a girl and has nowhere to take her for a sexual rendezvous. Since Baxter's apartment has become the go-to for cheating spouses, Joe asks for the use of his digs. When Baxter begs off so he can rest, Joe becomes adamant. The girl, he insists, is exceptional: "She looks like Marilyn Monroe!" With that, how can Baxter refuse? He gives up his room so that his work superior can live out every man's fantasy-- or at least as close as a guy like him will ever get. "Marilyn" and "Monroe" were apparantly the secret passwords.

  

Marilyn co-operated in another public celeb kudos earlier in her career when she starred in How to Marry a Millionaire, however Lauren Bacall rightfully maintains the bulk of the credit. The movie, of course, is about three lovely but struggling young women (Lauren, Marilyn, and Betty Grable) who are Hell-bent and determined to marry well to rich men. In the film, Lauren befriends the elder but always gentlemanly William Powell, who resists her advances due to their May-December age gap, yet later decides to court her in earnest (see left). In doing so, the other two gals question Lauren's choice-- he is old after all. But, Lauren rebuffs their quips by making an example of all of the handsome older men in the world: "I've always liked older men. Look at Roosevelt, look at Churchill. Look at that old fellow what's-his-name in The African Queen. Absolutely crazy about him!" In this case, the crack wasn't just business, it was personal, for in real life Lauren was already married to Queen star Humphrey Bogart-- her senior by nearly 25 years. One imagines he found the cinematic joke hilarious and, of course, appreciated the extra publicity.

Lauren Bacall enjoys a day off with her "old man."

NOW, THAT'S FUNNY: Part VII

Marlene Dietrich was well aware of the effect her sexual wiles had
 on men, and she fully took advantage... especially
when the world was in danger.

One of Marlene Dietrich's more public romances was the one she had with the handsome Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. (left). The two would have a lengthy affair following the death of Marlene's previous lover, John Gilbert. If Doug wasn't intimidated enough by Marlene's continuing devotion to this lost love, he would too have to combat the existence of her still living husband, Rudi Sieber, whom she nonchalantly introduced to him at dinner one night. His attraction and affection for Marlene made him stick around, despite her antics, which were not in keeping with typical feminine standards nor accepted gender roles. In truth, he loved her "modern" ways as much as her warmth. Anyway, he had to get used to her methods fast since she took the reigns at their first meeting. Doug recalled being completely spellbound by Marlene's beauty and lack of vanity, becoming determined to possess her. After escorting her home and trying to figure a suave way to make his move, he came to realize that he was the one being seduced: he thanked her for the nightcap, and she escorted him to her bedroom. Their affair was not always so simple. In order to keep the press hounds at bay, Doug often had to find creative ways to escape from his lover's room without raising suspicion. While both were in London, Marlene was staying at Claridge's. After one particular night of passion, Doug decided-- in order to avoid detection and to protect his lover's honor-- that he should shimmy down the fire escape instead of using the door. In doing so, he tied his coat tails behind his back and slid down... landing right in front of a young "bobby" officer. Luckily, being famous has its advantages. The officer gave Doug a knowing smile and asked, "Rehearsing for your next film, Mr. Fairbanks?" Doug replied with a befuddled affirmative and hailed a cab. Luckily, he was able to get Marlene a room below his own bungalow soon after to avoid such intricate escapes... and embarrassments.

While Doug was intoxicated by Marlene as a lover, he was also smitten with her strength and gumption. She left him astounded on separate occasions when she announced her plans to, in one way or another, prevent world disaster by using her abilities of sexual seduction. When she learned that Edward VIII of England was about to abdicate his throne for Wallis Simpson, she became deeply grieved. She was determined to stop her royal friend from making such an error. She told Doug that she was going straight to the Palace to seduce Edward in order to show him that there were better women to be had than the "homely" girl he had set his sights on. She felt sure that this act of diplomacy would be better for everyone-- England needed him! Not knowing what to do, Doug watched as his lover prepared herself for a night of sexual warfare. Unfortunately, her primping took too long, and by the time she arrived at the palace, Edward was not at home. He married Wallis, and the rest is history. Marlene was not deterred in her international shenanigans (see determined pose, right). With the Nazis rising in power, and war creeping closer, she became increasingly agitated at the United States' refusal to act. So, she let Doug in on another plan. Before Marlene gained American citizenship and publicly declared her disdain for the current German political tide, Hitler wanted her back in her native land making movies for their agenda. Marlene wanted to play the secret agent and agree to come home-- with the stipulation that she be able to meet with Hitler "in private." The context of the meeting was understood. She then planned to assassinate the maniacal leader herself! Fearful for his beloved when he realized her seriousness, Doug pointed out the danger of such an attempt, but Marlene said she wasn't afraid to die. He then pointed out that she would be searched, and any weapons she had on her person would be removed before she could see the dictator. She then declared that she would enter naked if she had to. He finally pointed out that even if she succeeded, it would put the lives of her mother Josefine and sister Liesel in jeopardy, as they still lived in Nazi occupied Germany. This finally changed her mind. But, imagine how different history could have been if she had followed through...

Rudolph Valentino was equally renowned for his effect upon the opposite sex. His mere presence instigated women of all ages to go into a frenzy. He had longed in his youth for fame and prosperity, but as he aged, he came to realize that such privileges also came with a price: like privacy... or the ability to exit a building without being mobbed. Fan attention seemed to reach a fever pitch when he and wife Natacha Rambova started taking their dancing tour across the country (left). On a hiatus of sorts from film while he battled the studios for better roles, better pay, and creative freedom, he and Natacha decided to tango their way through the United States. Needless to say, there was mayhem. Tickets were in high demand for their shows, and in addition, throngs of fans methodically cased whatever ballroom or hotel Rudy was performing or staying in. While coming or going to events, Rudy and Natacha were often stampeded and occasionally had to find special exit routes on rooftops to avoid annihilation. From Arizona to Kentucky, they were woman-handled, and their ears were defiled with the cries of screaming females. He underwent one surprising event after another, including the time one ravenous fan tore her way through his dressing tent to catch a glimpse of his perfect form. Rudy may have been frightened at certain times, but he was always as gracious as possible to his fans. Mostly, he was concerned for every one's safety. While performing in Vancouver, BC, one particular female fan become so overcome by the sight of Rudy, that she fainted. The building manager moved her out of the way so she wasn't trampled and deposited her in Rudy's dressing room where Natacha tried to revive her. After finishing a routine, Rudy entered in all his dashing, costumed glory to check the status of the patient. At that moment, the stunned girl opened her eyes, finding herself face to face with her idol, the Rudolph Valentino. Her eyes bulged, she sighed, and with that she fainted dead away. Again. No news on whether she ever recovered.

Yes, movie acting can be treacherous. But just as hazardous as the public trappings of fame is the danger of human absence... at least in one case. In 1913, Lon Chaney was just carving out a career for himself in the movies. After several months in Los Angeles in extra roles, prop jobs, and bit parts, he struck up enough of a reputation with Allan Dwan to start getting regular gigs in the director's films. He was far from famous, but his face was becoming more familiar, and he was definitely bulking up his resume. So it was that Lon joined the rest of Allan's usual troupe (including Pauline Bush and Murdock MacQuarrie) when they traipsed off to Mt. Lowe to begin filming Bloodhounds of the North. Things were rocky from the beginning, with bad weather and torrential rains that kept the cast and crew isolated and indoors. Allan solved the problem by having the cast and crew rehearse not only for Bloodhounds but for his other upcoming features. Once the mud finally dried, Lon-- who had always loved the mountains-- ventured out with fellow actor Arthur Rosson to breathe a deep sigh of relief in the fresh air. Unfortunately, as familiar as he was with the Colorado peaks, Lon was unfamiliar with Californian terrain, and he and Arthur got good and lost. As day turned to night, and the air grew chilly, the two men must have wondered if they would ever find their way out of the canyons. Thankfully, a search party had been sent to find the adventurous twosome. The sight of approaching friends and rescuers must have been a sight for sore eyes after hours of desolation. After all they mayhem, and with his cast in tact, Allan managed to churn out not only Bloodhounds but also Richelieu and Honor of the Mounted in five days. Lon had a part in all of them and kept much closer company with his comrades for the remainder of filming. (Lon plays the aggressor in another wild landscape with William S. Hart in Riddle Gawne, right. This film in 1919, after years of struggle, would help tip Lon over the edge in popularity before The Miracle Man solidified his fame).

James Cagney: actor, dancer... poet??? Yes, indeed. A tough guy on screen, James had a much more artistic bent in his private life. In addition to enjoying the relaxation that painting brought him, he too was a veritable wordsmith. Years spent with his nose buried in books had equipped him with quite the vocabulary and an ability for melodic recitations. He carried a notebook with him that he often scribbled in, doing the random couplet, limerick, or verse. His areas of lyrical expertise ranged from agricultural appreciation, social preponderance, and aesthetic enjoyment-- Joan Blondell was flattered to hear an original Cagney penned in honor of what he described as her perfect caboose. Occasionally, the poems were comical. Jim had a sudden burst of inspiration when riding in the car one day with his wife, Willie. The two came to a red light, and Jim noticed friend and constant co-star Humphrey Bogart sitting in his own car coming from the opposite direction... picking his nose. Bogie picking a boogey? It was too much for Jim to resist. The next day when Bogie came to work, he found the following verse on his dressing table: "In this silly town of ours,/ one sees odd primps and poses,/ but movie stars in fancy cars/ shouldn't pick their famous noses." Jim received no reply. Not every artist is appreciated in his time. (The duo stand left in The Roaring Twenties).