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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre, 6/1/25

(Love those old magazines, don’t ’cha know…)

As I thumbed through the pages of my collection of hard copy media this week, I found a few fun pages to share from my October 1925, edition of “Motion Picture” magazine.

Mae Murray was clearly in the spotlight that year since the MGM film, The Merry Widow, had been released and was performing quite well at the box office.  A full-page ad for the popular film, directed by Eric von Stroheim, starring Mae Murray and John Gilbert, is found on page 7. 

At the time, the magazine featured “Our Portrait Gallery,” and many photographs are found therein, including one of popular comedian, Charlie Chaplin, as well as Phyllis Haver, a leading silent actress of the day.

On page 22, we encounter handsome leading man, Rod La Rocque letting readers know what the well-dressed man will wear this autumn.  Leatrice Joy, a beautiful leading lady of that era, does the same for women on page 23, as she sports some of the latest 1925 fall designs.  Miss Joy was well known for her extravagant fashion sense and was rarely upstaged by any other star, apart from Gloria Swanson. 

Page 28 gives us popular leading man Richard Dix, showing his plethora of actor’s “emotions.”  Dix was more noted for his rugged good looks and physique, and less so for his histrionics. 

Pretty obvious, wouldn’t you say?

On page 32, “Mae Murray Tells Her Great Secret.” We are promised by writer, Homer Currie, that Mae will reveal her life plan and her philosophy the very one that ensured her the enormous success she’d achieved as an actress.

Slobbering in on page 41 is the new St. Bernard pooch called Robin Hood, at the Pickfair estate, where actress Mary Pickford resided at the time with her actor husband, Douglas Fairbanks.  Their estate hosted all sorts of entertainment and political celebrities from around the globe, and occasionally, even royalty would pop in.

You recall hearing about the Pickfair estate, don’t you? Wannabe actress and singer, Pia Zadora (of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians fame), had it bulldozed to the ground, don’t ’cha know…

Mary Pickford, queen of the Pickfair estate, with “Robin Hood” the St. Bernard

The feature from page 69 has one Mrs. William E. Borah, wife of the senator from Idaho, giving her skin care secrets.  Guess what, ladies? She uses Pond’s cold cream and vanishing cream.  FYI, they’re still available!

A few pages later, on page 77, we find an advertisement for “Pum-Kin” rouge, which was all the rage back in the day.  My very own grandmother used rouge, which was applied oh-so-sparingly with its own little cosmetic puff (although a lot of women just used a wadded-up cotton ball, as I recall).

Why was it used so sparingly, you ask? Because it was easy to “misinterpret the situation,” should one apply it a bit to liberally!

Got the picture? Women would sometimes end up looking like “sl*ts.”

Probably going to get all kinds of hassles for that little remark by my lady friends, don’t ’cha think?

Page 118 brings us to the free bottle offer from “Mary T. Goldman’s Hair Color Restorer.”  We are asked to write to Mary T. Goldman, 493-L Goldman Building, St. Paul, Minn., for the free sample of hair dye.  Notice how there is no zip code given.  This predates zip code usage, even the 2-digit zone code period of my youth.

And finally, the back cover ad for Palmolive bar soap is found.  At the bottom of the page, we read that “Palmolive Soap is untouched by human hands until you break the wrapper – it is never sold unwrapped.”

Until next time…

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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous

Keith’s Theatre, 5/25/25

(Where, oh where, is cameraman Billy Bitzer when you need him most?)

Children are like little sponges and seem to soak up everything, don’t ’cha know….

Kids are impressionable, adaptable, and malleable but can also fall into the same bad habits as the rest of us, if not challenged to step out of their comfort zone. 

Parents beware!

Once upon a time, long ago before home video was ever a reality, my father, fortuitously, had one of the first affordable 8mm home movie systems.  Dad became quite adept at filming and captured virtually every aspect of our lives on 8mm Kodak film, before my parents’ divorce in 1968. 

After the split, there was an eerie silence, and a lot of movie paraphernalia scattered about that I had to learn to use.  I’m pretty good mechanically and quickly gained Bell & Howell proficiency, but am not so adept at creative writing, certainly not at video storytelling, which wasn’t even part of our school curriculum at the time.

You see, in 1968, that subject didn’t even exist! 

So, I relied on dear old Dad for all the technical cinematic stuff since I couldn’t be bothered to learn something I didn’t instantly excel at, and grew quite comfortable letting him plan all the shots and direction like, “Stand here, Keith,” or to, “Look excited and smile, son!”

I never in a million years imagined he’d be gone in just a matter of months.  Then I was just lost.

Human nature, don’t ’cha think?

So, where, oh where, is cameraman Billy Bitzer when you need him most? Up in the sky with D.W. Griffith, perhaps? Come back down to earth and help me learn the cinematic skills I lack since Dad never challenged me to develop them. 

Then, suddenly Dad was gone, and my parents’ divorce was anything but friendly, get the picture? Lots of ill will in every direction, and the kids all ducked and covered, hoping they wouldn’t suffer any of the fallout.

Let’s change the channel, shall we? I feel like talking about something else now. 

Let’s take up the subject of much-maligned director, D.W. Griffith (1875-1948), who with cameraman, G.W. “Billy” Bitzer (1872-1944), was instrumental in bringing so much innovation to the film world, like the close-up, fade-in, fade-out and long shot. 

The problem is that D.W. Griffith is often remembered today as little more than a southern white supremacist, largely due to his interpretation of the play “The Clansman” (based on a novel by the same name) which became Griffith’s signature1915 film, The Birth of a Nation. 

After D.W. Griffith’s tremendous success with The Birth of a Nation, he later failed miserably to perform after personally financing his next blockbuster epic film, 1916’s Intolerance.  It eventually caused his financial ruin to be heard “from sea to shining sea.”

David Wark Griffith literally defined early Hollywood history, though, and brought us masterpieces like 1913’s Judith of Bethulia, 1915’s The Birth of a Nation and 1916’s Intolerance.

Furthermore, Griffith’s genius introduced us to the likes of Lillian & Dorothy Gish, Blanche Sweet, Mae Marsh, Henry B. Walthall, Owen Moore, Jack Pickford, Robert Harron, Lionel Barrymore, Harry Carey and Wallace Reid.

It’s all a matter of public record, don’t ’cha know…

Until next time…

Mary Pickford’s brother, Jack Pickford
Handsome Wallace Reid fell victim to morphine addiction in the early 1920s
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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre, 5/17/25

Popularity can be a very transitory beast and public tastes can change, in the rapid blink of an eye or as quickly as a photographer’s flash, don’t ’cha know….

It’s history constantly repeating itself, hoping we’ll eventually learn our lesson, though we rarely listen.

You see, the public is fickle.

That old truism came to life again this week as I watched someone gloat over their YouTube subscriber rate and number of video views, versus their competitor who’s in the same niche market.  Mr. X just had to rub it in real good and make himself feel like the virtual king, presiding over his adoring and loyal subjects…

Of course, they’ll always be there!

Or will they?

There’s a cavalcade of has-beens who’ll attest to the public’s fickle nature, and many are just screaming, some from the grave, “You’re only as good as your last performance!”

Let’s take a look at a few of yesterday’s stars that regrettably ended up on the has-been compost heap.

1925: Mae Murray (1889 – 1965) stars as dancer Sally O’Hara in the film ‘The Merry Widow’, directed by Erich Von Stroheim for MGM.

First up on my list of forgotten ones is the divine one herself, Mae Murray (aka Princess Mdivani of Georgia), who for almost two decades was both a Ziegfeld Follies as well as a silent picture star.  Mae thought she’d always be on top and when her beauty faded, so did she…into veritable oblivion.  Mae did make some memorable films though, including director Erich von Stroheim’s 1925 film interpretation of the Franz Lehar opera, The Merry Widow, which sealed Mae’s fate as one of the loveliest actresses to ever grace the screen.  FYI, the video is available in its entirety on YouTube.

Next up is one of the great silent comedians, Harry Langdon (1884-1944), who’s not very well-remembered today, but for a moment in Hollywood history, was a household name.  Langdon’s trademark baby face was perfect for close-ups and led to starring roles in three silent films which many now consider masterpieces, The Strong Man (1926), Tramp, Tramp, Tramp (1926), and Long Pants (1927).  Langdon had a unique quality that lent itself perfectly to evoking pathos on the silent screen and his films retain their original magic even today.  

Diana Dors (1931-1984), born Diana Mary Fluck, was England’s answer to the 1950s blonde bombshell craze that included the likes of Brigitte Bardot, Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, and Mamie van Doren (FYI, Mamie will be the subject of a future Keith’s Theatre post). 

When Diana Dors’ name comes up today, most people ask, “Diana who?”  At one time, though, Miss Dors was exceptionally hot property and even after her celebrity star dimmed, she managed to self-actualize the sexual nature of life through her extracurricular activities, which involved hidden movie cameras at X-rated adult parties she hosted.  For a full account of Diana Dors’ shenanigans, her Wikipedia biography is here:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diana_Dors

Handsome, hunky actor Larry “Buster” Crabbe

Last up on our list of has-beens is none other than Hollywood mega hunk, Buster Crabbe (1908-1983), who is probably best remembered as Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers or Billy the Kid in film serials during the 1930s and 40s.  Crabbe, a former Olympic gold medal swimmer, was catapulted into the acting profession as a result of his sports ability, a story that still resonates today.  Buster Crabbe’s Wikipedia biography is posted here:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buster_Crabbe

Yes, the public is fickle.  Here today, gone tomorrow!

Until next time…

Categories
Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre, 5/10/25

(Silent star from the past materializes out of thin air!)

As someone matures, they start a mysterious rewinding process, much like birth-in-reverse, and ghosts from the past leap out of every nook and cranny.

This week, I was visited by the spirit of the former Ziegfeld Follies and silent screen star, Olive Thomas, who appeared out of thin air with former husband, Jack Pickford, close by her side.  To be perfectly frank (as well as very prima-donnish), the entire experience was completely overwhelming, and I shan’t recover anytime soon.

Olive Thomas, unfortunately, met an early demise in Paris, France in 1920, after swallowing poison, which ultimately resulted in her death on September 10th.  Her beauty had been the inspiration for artist Alberto Vargas’ work called “Memories of Olive,” and the piece was prominently displayed in the lobby of a New York Ziegfeld theatre for years, before being later sold to an art collector.

“Memories of Olive,” 1920 by Alberto Vargas

 Olive Thomas had once been married to actress Mary Pickford’s brother, Jack, and many believe her husband’s drinking, drug use and philandering drove her to take poison (mercury bichloride) in the early morning hours of September 6, 1920.  Also vacationing with the couple in Paris at the time of Thomas’ death on September 10th, was her close friend, actress and former Ziegfeld star, Mae Murray.

Jack Pickford was best remembered for his starring role in the 1917 silent version of Tom Sawyer, as well as its 1918 sequel, Huck and Tom.  He eloped with Olive Thomas in 1916 and by most accounts, their relationship was tumultuous until Olive’s eventual death from ingesting poison on September 6, 1920.  That death, incidentally, was eventually ruled accidental, but many consider it to be suicide.

Olive Thomas, the great beauty of the silent screen
Olive Thomas & friend
Olive Thomas’ husband, Jack Pickford, brother to Mary Pickford

So felt Mae Murray, who’d been in close contact with Olive at the time and implicated Jack Pickford for Olive’s death.  According to the Michael Ankerich book, “Mae Murray, the Girl with the Bee-Stung Lips,” Mae later wrote, “I tried to feel tolerant and understanding toward Jack, who had broken my friend’s heart because he had been himself and therefore was unlike what she wanted him to be. But I could not trust myself with him. No matter how humble and remorseful Jack would have been – and I’m sure that he was intensely so – I could not risk hurting him more.”

Frances Marion, who was a popular screenwriter during the silent era, said of the Olive Thomas and Jack Pickford relationship, “I had seen her often at the Pickford home, for she was engaged to Mary’s brother, Jack. Two innocent-looking children, they were the gayest, wildest brats who ever stirred the stardust on Broadway. Both were talented, but they were much more interested in playing the roulette of life than in concentrating on their careers.”

Kind of sounds like my shenanigans as I terrorized San Francisco during the 1980s and 90s… don’t ’cha know.

Until next time…

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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre 5/4/2025

(More artists from the past appear out of nowhere!)

As someone matures, they start a mysterious rewinding process, much like birth-in-reverse, and ghosts from the past leap out of every nook and cranny.

This week, I was visited by the spirit of artist, Alberto Vargas, who’d suddenly returned to life. 

I’ve always liked this artist’s work, yet the gallery chain where I worked for many years, Dyansen, handled several commercial artists but not Vargas’ art.  Alberto Vargas by this time had achieved worldwide notoriety and was attracting the attention of art collectors worldwide.

Joaquin Alberto Vargas y Chávez was born on February 9, 1896, in Arequipa, Perú, the son of a well-known Peruvian photographer.  Vargas, considered one of the leading pin-up girl illustrators and artists, perfected the use of watercolors, often in combination with the airbrush, during his lifetime. 

From January, 1941 “Esquire” magazine

Vargas had been employed early in his career by showman, Florenz Ziegfeld.  Vargas painted one of Ziegfeld stars, Olive Thomas, and the work was prominently displayed in the lobby of a New York Ziegfeld theatre for years, before being sold to a private collector. 

“Memories of Olive” by Alberto Vargas, 1920

Olive Thomas, in addition to being a Ziegfeld Follies star, had once been unhappily married to actress Mary Pickford’s brother, Jack, and many believe her husband’s drinking, drug use and philandering drove her to take poison in the early morning hours of September 6, 1920.  Also vacationing with her in Paris at the time of her death on September 10th, was her close friend, as well as former Ziegfeld Follies star, Mae Murray. 

Former Ziegfeld Follies star & friend of Olive Thomas, Mae Murray

Vargas later did work for several Hollywood studios creating movie posters, and one such design was for the 1933 film, The Sin of Nora Moran, starring Zita Johann.  Johann, an Austrian American actress is best remembered for her role opposite Boris Karloff in the 1932 film, The Mummy.

Other well-known actresses painted by Vargas included Ziegfeld’s wife, Billie Burke, silent screen actresses Bessie Love and Nita Naldi, and 1950’s sex symbols Mamie Van Doren and Marilyn Monroe.

Florenz Ziegfeld’s second wife, actress Billie Burke

During the 1940s, Esquire magazine featured many of the Vargas pin-ups, some of which I’ve featured below.  In 1959, Playboy magazine magnate, Hugh Hefner, began using Vargas’ work, which will be featured in a separate Keith’s Theatre column.

Alberto Vargas died on December 30, 1982, in Los Angeles, California.

Wikipedia’s biography of Alberto Vargas can be found at:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alberto_Vargas

Until next time…

From March, 1945 “Esquire” magazine
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Keith’s Theatre, 4/26/25

(Spirits conjure up memories of gallery daze, Erté & artist LeRoy Neiman)

What spirits have been haunting me lately?

Many! Read on to find out more…

As a person matures, they start a mysterious rewinding process, much like birth-in-reverse, and ghosts from the past leap out from every nook and cranny.

This past week, thanks to such forces, I relived my life in San Francisco during the 1980s and 90s.  At the time, I was employed in the commercial art world, installing art exhibitions at the Dyansen Gallery chain.  I traveled a lot on the West Coast between Beverly Hills, San Diego and Maui, where we operated four different galleries, but I was typically stationed at Dyansen Gallery in San Francisco, hanging our many Erté art retrospectives.  Erté had become the poster child for the Art Deco movement, was incredibly prolific and was well into his 80s at that time.

Installing Erté’s artwork was no small feat.  During his eight decades of life, he’d produced a plethora of original gouaches, a multitude of lithographs & serigraphs (silkscreens), as well as several bronze sculpture collections.  It was an incredibly lucrative business whereby many art dealers (as well as Erté) grew fabulously wealthy.

Arranging Erté’s bronze sculpture collections on their signature black lacquer pedestals became my favorite part, as well as the sculpture’s precision lighting.  This was still the era when halogen lighting was state of the art, and it predated the LED lighting that galleries currently use. 

Halogens were expensive to operate and generated a great deal of heat.  My favorite bulbs quickly became 50-watt PAR 36s which came in wide flood, flood, spot, as well as pin-spot versions.  These bulbs were installed in metal casings that plugged into tracks which were mounted in a steel framework known as Structura, manufactured by the Italian company, Targetti. 

Such track lighting was able to achieve dramatic effects on art which has never been equaled to date.  Structura by Targetti was and still is, the definitive method for lighting artwork, not yet surpassed.

Q50 MR16 halogen lights were the next gallery fad.  They were cheaper to use, and their burn time was significantly longer.  The problem with these bulbs – as they aged, they developed an annoying yellow cast, not at all flattering for showcasing art.  To combat the issue, General Electric developed their “Constant Color” which had a silver coating on back of the bulb, thus preventing the dreaded yellow glow that was toxic when selling expensive artwork.  As the GE brand was pricier, many galleries opted to put up with the ever-present yellow haze generated by the standard Q50 bulbs. 

My lighting memories (thanks to the invisible forces at work) morphed into recollections of some of my favorite exhibitions and artists, many of whom it was impossible to display in a negative light.  LeRoy Neiman, (1921-2012), was one such master, and his original paintings, pastels and line drawings once graced Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Clubs. 

I recalled in early autumn, 1989, about one month before San Francisco’s infamous October 1989 earthquake, when one of my most memorable shows took place.  It was the LeRoy Neiman exhibition of original Playboy Club art.

It was virtually impossible to display Neiman’s work in a negative light.

The artist was an imposing, impressive figure I might add, who towered above me at well over 6 feet and was always sporting his trademark handlebar moustache.  It was quite a sight and one I shall never forget.

Neiman’s works are pictured below from the book, LeRoy Neiman Five Decades.  A biography of Neiman can be found on Wikipedia:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LeRoy_Neiman

I can feel more ghosts in the queue just waiting to confront me, including that of artist and humorist, Charles Bragg (1931 – 2017), that Dyansen carried exclusively for many years, as well as pin-up artist, Alberto Vargas (1896-1982) who we didn’t represent. 

Those are stories for another day.  I’m exhausted from communing with the dead and need a week’s rest.

Until next time…

Beatles, 1966, LeRoy Neiman
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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Social Media

Keith’s Theatre, 3/22/25

(Move over Hopper & Parsons there’s a new witch around)

Have you ever had a tune playing repeatedly in your head? That happened to me this week when I remembered a spiritual my 7th grade music teacher, Mr. Welling (aka Baby Face Welling), played one day.  He got that nickname, Baby Face, since he had pronounced dimples and talked kind of funny, if you catch my drift…

At least that’s how kids in school at the time perceived it, especially the “hoods.”  A “hood” was a young male of questionable repute, who smoked cigarettes and always wore a leather jacket, even when it was hot outside.  Never could figure that out…

“Keep in the Middle of the Road” was on Mr. Welling’s menu that day, along with a few others I’ve long since forgotten.  The one song stayed with me since it wisely advised, “Children, keep in the middle of the road, children keep in the middle of the road.  Don’t you look to the right, don’t you look to the left, just keep in the middle of the road.”

Clearly someone was trying to teach the class that moderation is preferrable to the extremes one often finds in life.  It was a very practical, Midwestern lesson, especially applicable to 1966 when the U.S. was transitioning from beatnik to hippie mode.

I decided to search out “Keep in the Middle of the Road” on YouTube, and of course, found a plethora of versions to choose from.  I’ve included a link to one below.

And while I was there, I naturally had to catch up with the latest haps in social media land!

Skye Vitiritti’s channel had an excellent review of Dylan Mulvaney’s new book, “Paper Doll,” which graciously allowed people to avoid purchasing it and subsequently vomiting over its content.  Thank you, Skye, for preventing a plethora of Dylan-induced illness.

I was expecting the worst from this book and certainly wasn’t disappointed after hearing the sordid news.  Dylan, aka Miss Thing, has named her wiener.  It’s called “Missy.”  Skye could barely keep a straight face, nor could I.  And I’ll just bet no one else in the audience could, either.

Let me simply state this is something a woman would simply never do!

Men often do it, even some gays, though I could never be bothered to participate in that dubious practice. 

Really! As if it possessed a mind all its own.  How very adolescent!

Speaking of which, I’m sure young girls have a tough enough time with female adolescence, but I wouldn’t wish the male version on my worst enemy! I believe Act 1, Scene 5 from Shakespeare’s Hamlet sums the whole experience up perfectly, “O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!”

And then, there’s a lot of hoopla on YouTube about someone with a big following on Tik Tok, Lily Tino.  She recently had facial feminization surgery and was revealing the results.  People are speculating as to whether she (and I use the term very loosely) really had plastic surgery at all.  Take it from a person who’s had plenty, she has, though I’m not convinced darling Lily got the best bang for her buck.

Frankly, I’ve never been able to get past the baritone voice.  Forget about facial feminization, bitch, get some laser surgery on your vocal cords, why don’t ’cha? If that’s not possible, get some training from a good vocal coach.  I know you live somewhere in the Bay Area, so Hollywood’s close by.  Plenty of vocal resources down there, so look someone up…and hurry, please, time’s a wastin’!

I also watched another clip from Gavin Newsom’s new podcast where he interviewed Tim Walz.  I’ll admit being flabbergasted when Newsom disagreed with Walz about Steve Bannon, who’d been a previous podcast guest.  Newsom spoke out in Bannon’s defense! Quite shocking yet refreshing.  Maybe there’s a glimmer of hope for our illustrious governor. 

Opening a dialogue with the opposition is a first step and I hope it continues.  With all the Getty money surrounding him, Newsom might well become Independent and perhaps Guv and the Dems will wind up in a divorce court. 

Divorce court don’t ’cha know, something near and dear to my heart since my parents trotted down that road when I was only 13.  It was just one year after my 7th grade music class with Baby Face Welling. 

Subject for another Keith’s Theatre…the divorce years…

Until next time…

Categories
Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous

Keith’s Theatre, 3/14/25

I’ve been spending too much time lately on YouTube and deserve a vacation.  Something different, less controversial.  Hmmm…what shall I write about?

I scoured my magazine archives for a topic.  Religion, perhaps?

A Liberty magazine feature written by Jim Tully, from January 12, 1929, “Aimee Semple McPherson – What’s She All About?”, was just screaming at me! I think the author caught my attention with these words:

“One of the very greatest actresses now alive in the world has an audience under her spell. Her whole-heartedness, coupled with her tremendous verve and dominating will, explains this woman’s phenomenal success.  Only one other career in the world would have allowed her complete expression – the stage.”  Tully also wrote, “Shop girls claim her gowns are finer and more expensive than those sold to movie stars.”

Well, that did it since everyone knows I’m a sucker for an aspiring actress story! Especially true when they have beautiful gowns, a scandal and a tragic ending!

Sister Aimee Semple McPherson
January 12, 1929 version of “Liberty” magazine

Such shenanigans, though, are nothing new in the world of evangelism and far be it from me to throw stones.  The Old Testament has admonished us not to engage in what is called the evil tongue.  In biblical Hebrew the term is לשון הרע (“lashon hara.”)

Upon second thought, perhaps I shall cast a few stones at Aimee Semple McPherson! I’m only human, don’t cha know?

Let’s dive right into the scandal as related by the 1929 Liberty feature where “Sister Aimee,” as she was known to her followers, became embroiled in an alleged kidnapping scheme on May 18, 1926.  According to the evangelist, on the day in question, she had just finished swimming at the beach when she was approached by a weeping woman with a nervous male companion.  The two informed her their baby was dying and wanted her to pray over it. 

Sister Aimee wanted to dress first, but the woman persuaded her otherwise, then threw an overcoat over her dripping shoulders and ran ahead to her car.  By the time Sister Aimee arrived, the woman was holding a bundle tenderly in her arms, seated next to a third man.  When the evangelist leaned over to pray for the baby, she was suddenly pushed into the vehicle and last recalled something sweet-smelling being held over her mouth.

When McPherson awoke, she was in an unknown location and discovered that she was being held for half a million in ransom, Tully wrote and went on to say:

“During this period of her captivity, her captors went to a blind lawyer in Long Beach, California.  They told him the terms of the ransom.  The lawyer went in turn to the district attorney and Federal officers, and recounted what the kidnapers had told him.  The authorities believed the story to be preposterous.” The writer added that “A day or so later, the blind attorney was beaten severely in his own office by the same men!”

No sources were provided for the above statements, nor were any given for the following.  I guess we must accept it on faith:

  • “Ransom notes were received at the temple.  Federal post-office investigators became interested.  Later it was discovered that the stamps on one of the letters had been mysteriously changed.”
  • “At the moment when the Federal men were to seize the typewriter they felt had been used in typing the notes – the machine disappeared!”
  • “In a mysterious midnight journey, the captors, according to Aimee, took her to a shack – somewhere on the Mexican desert, twenty miles in some direction from Agua Prieta.  She spent two days in the shack, and was then left conveniently alone.”

Keep in mind, Sister Aimee was, having been drugged, unconscious during this period.  How could she possibly have known exactly where she was? We’re never told.  The writer continued:

  • “With the edge of a tin can she sawed in twain the cords which bound her wrists together.  Her hands freed, she quickly unbound her ankles.”
  • “She walked through the intense heat of the desert day and late into the night.  At Agua Prieta she found the police.  They took her to Douglas, Arizona.”

Yes, funny the subject of Douglas, Arizona, should come up! That’s where the evangelist’s church received a phone call from, on June 23, 1926, exactly five weeks and one day after her disappearance from the beach.

Aimee Semple McPherson

It seems a little time was lost, wouldn’t you say? Sister Aimee is recalling only a few days of her life, yet over five weeks have passed since she was supposedly abducted!

Having miraculously recovered from her debacle, Sister Aimee announced that it was all the result of a rival church’s underworld plot to unseat her from her evangelist throne.  A grand jury investigated but ultimately decided there wasn’t enough evidence to indict the suspected kidnappers.

The article concluded, “The legal battle was waged off and on in the courts for half a year.  At last the case against the evangelist collapsed on January 10, 1927.  Now, nearly two years later, conflicting opinions still flourish.  No trace of the kidnapers has ever been found.”

No, indeed, because there probably never were any.  Furthermore, there was a rumor that she’d been cavorting in a lascivious way with one of her co-workers, in Carmel, California. 

I almost forgot to include the terrible fate that awaited Aimee Semple McPherson on September 27, 1944.  The evangelist suffered a heart attack In Oakland, California, where she’d gone to preach at local revivals.

Sister Aimee’s autopsy report showed that it was precipitated by an overdose of secobarbital, ruled to be accidental, not intentional. 

The distinction is thin, though, when people find they’ve reached that moment in time.

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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous

Keith’s Theatre, 3/7/25

(Move over Hopper, Parsons & St. Johns, there’s a new witch around)

So, I picked three winners from last Sunday’s Oscars:  Adrien Brody (Best Actor), Zoe Saldaña (Best Supporting Actress), and Kieran Culkin (Best Supporting Actor).  I was wrong about Best Actress since Mikey Madison won for Anora, not Fernanda Torres for I’m Still Here, and another prediction missed the mark since the former, not the latter film, garnered the Best Picture prize.

Can’t win ‘em all which is nothing new since I’ve disagreed for decades with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences.  Shall I go on? Why, thank you…

The 1941 Academy Awards ceremony quickly comes to mind, with Ginger Rogers’ Best Actress win.  I’m not sure what the Academy saw in Ginger, as there were plenty of other actresses to pick from that year.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big Rogers aficionado (especially love her dancing) but excusez-moi, Best Actress for Kitty Foyle?

And let’s not forget the 1961 Academy Awards when Elizabeth Taylor won her “sympathy” Oscar, after languishing near death in a hospital prior to the awards ceremony.  I’m a big Taylor fan, but Best Actress for BUtterfield 8 – spare me, please!

Fast forward to the “Best-We-Forget the Actor” Oscar of 1969, when Cliff Robertson won for his leading role in Charly.  Peter O’Toole’s stellar performance in The Lion in Winter was quite impossible to ignore, yet somehow the Academy managed to vote for the opposition.

And speaking of casting votes…I sure hope Californians get more savvy about who and what they’re voting for.  If you catch my drift…

And I see the subject of politics mysteriously came up so let’s jump over to YouTube! The California governor has apparently stirred up controversy interviewing conservative Charlie Kirk.  On Guv’s new podcast, he suddenly announced to Kirk he’d come to the realization that transgender women competing against biological women in sports is inherently unfair. 

Just now realizing that, are we? Pardon me while I bang my head on the floor…

Naturally, there were many from the LGBT (just keep adding letters, not sure what they mean anymore) community protesting outside.  These activists were holding the proverbial signs denouncing fascism, like “Nazi Go Home,” “The Only Good Fascist is a Dead Fascist,” and of course the obligatory “Death to Fascism!” sign.

Frankly this tiring old script is a bit much for me to bear! I feel one of my headaches coming on…

At the end of the day, I’m still trying to figure out what the subject of transgender women competing in female sports has to do with homosexuality or bisexuality.  Would someone please enlighten me?

And suppose, just suppose Guv really does have presidential aspirations? This Hoosier boy has some advice – you’ll never sell in the Midwest!

Don’t cha think, or don’t cha? Until next time…

Categories
Memorial Miscellaneous Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre, 2/28/25

Fashion Designer Erté in Hollywood!

What French couturier came to Hollywood to design for the motion picture industry, at the request of director Cecil B. DeMille?

It was none other than Erté, whose real name was Romain de Tirtoff.  This prolific couturier, raised in the Russian aristocracy, emigrated to Paris and worked closely with French designer Paul Poiret.  The talented Erté later signed a contract with Harper’s Bazar, and provided a plethora of covers for the popular Hearst magazine.

Erté was summoned to Hollywood by director DeMille for a prospective film, but when publisher William Randolph Hearst heard of the meeting, he grew uneasy.  Hearst then arranged for Erté to design for Cosmopolitan Pictures, which was dedicated to producing the films of Hearst’s mistress, Marion Davies.  Erté obliged and went on to design both sets and costumes for the 1920 film, The Restless Sex, starring Miss Davies. 

Hearst hadn’t forgotten his wife, Millicent, though.  Mrs. Hearst, in addition to Hearst’s mistress, also loved beautiful clothes, so Erté created several designs in her honor.  The entire affair was well publicized to reassure the public of Mr. Hearst’s respectability. 

Hearst later recommended Erté’s talents to his close friend, Louis B. Mayer, of MGM Studios.  Mayer had Erté in mind for a 1925 production, to be entitled simply, Paris.  Erté was promised creative control over much of the production, but when the final shooting script arrived, he was incensed since it portrayed Parisian life in what Erté considered a completely objectionable manner. 

To make matters worse, one of the top stars at the time, Lillian Gish, got into an “artistic disagreement” with Erté over her proposed costumes for La Bohème.  According to Erté biographer Charles Spencer, Gish felt that Erté’s calico creations would look “too new” on the silver screen and insisted he use worn silk.  When Erté vehemently refused, Gish sought assistance from MGM’s wardrobe mistress, who dutifully complied.

Hopelessly European and well into his 30s at the time, Erté grew disillusioned with Hollywood and in late 1925, returned to Paris, but not before designing costumes for several MGM films, notably the silent version of Ben Hur.

Fast forward decades later, and Erté’s career in the U.S. was resurrected during an Art Deco renaissance.  His friendship with art dealers Eric and Salome Estorick paved the way for his designs to become successful in the commercial art world.

I was a part of this Art Deco renaissance and from 1985 – 2000, worked for Dyansen Galleries, the American company responsible for publishing several Erté sculpture collections.  I’ve attended countless Erté exhibitions and handled a large volume of Erté’s works, including original gouaches, graphics, and innumerable bronzes, which my employer published.

Having been constantly surrounded by Erté’s art, it never mattered that I never got the chance to meet the man.  Through his countless designs produced over the years, I felt I already had.

I knew Erté through his genius, which was considerable. 

Coming soon…all the gossip about the art world!