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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre – 2/7/2025

(Move over Hedda Hopper, Louella Parsons & Adela Rogers St. Johns)

I often find myself on YouTube (since I have a Roku box, directed to my TV screen), watching a barrage of videos from all manner of content creators.  Just can’t imagine how anyone could bear to watch an itsy-bitsy phone for any length of time.  That would ruin it all for me since I’m hopelessly addicted to this medium…

Especially so when a classic film is being shown, and such was the case this week watching Circe the Enchantress on YouTube (with Czech intertitles & Spanish subtitles).  I had to settle for the Czech/Spanish version since no one’s posted the complete film with English intertitles.  Reference please:

If you don’t understand Czech or aren’t fluent in Spanish (como yo), watching Mae Murray (aka the Princess Mdivani) emote is likely all you’ll need.  Very glad I watched this since it showed me that she was truly one of the greats of the silent era.

Circe, the Enchantress, 1924, starring Mae Murray

I also suggest watching the film jewel in Mae Murray’s crown, 1925’s The Merry Widow, directed by Eric von Stroheim, for anyone who wants to see “poetry in motion.”  Von Stroheim brought out a unique quality in Mae which resonated with filmgoers worldwide.  Reference please this link and incidentally, Miss Murray doesn’t appear until almost 11½ minutes into the film.  Certain there were long arguments between said actress and director von Stroheim about that decision!

1925: Mae Murray (1885 – 1965) stars as dancer Sally O’Hara in the film ‘The Merry Widow’, directed by Erich Von Stroheim for MGM.

The 1950 film, Sunset Boulevard, simply had to be based on Mae Murray’s life.  Sunset Boulevard’s Norma Desmond is the essence of Mae Murray, and since reading Michael G. Ankerich’s biography, “Mae Murray, the Girl with the Bee-Stung Lips,” any lingering doubts I had were permanently dissolved. 

These two women are one and the same.

The Ankerich book is quite well-researched, and next to “Swanson on Swanson,” one of the best accounts ever written on the silent era.  The Jane Ardmore 1959 book, “The Self-Enchanted,” which regrettably relied on the recollections of Mae Murray (still alive and kicking at the time), was the only biographical account I’d previously digested, until the Ankerich offering some 50 years later. 

“Self-Enchanted,” indeed! Clearly more “self-deluded,” which likely explains why Mae was found on the streets of St. Louis, Missouri in 1964, aimlessly wandering about in a state of confusion at age 79.  Reference please, this article: 

https://news.google.com/newspapers?id=YrMyAAAAIBAJ&pg=990,1605441

Hate to think of what’ll happen to me then.  Wait, that’s only 8½ years from now, perish the thought!

Other happenings this week…got to brush up on my latest Hollywood gossip.  Shall I do another movie review? NO! Let’s not and say we did, n’est-ce pas? Think that my Emilia Pérez review from last week will tide me over for quite some time, thank you very much.  

But really, I just gotta trash some other film since there’ve been so many recently.  Guess I’ll just peruse the Oscar nominations and come up with a sufficiently delectable menu.  Don’t cha think?

My mind wanders, or haven’t you noticed? Guess it’s my age…going to be 71 in June.  One of my co-workers not-so-lovingly disparaged my mind as being a “senior citizen brain-dump!”

Evil woman…

Where oh where is Miss Marion Davies when you need her most? WRH’s mistress was much to my dismay (according to Adela Rogers St. Johns, a longtime Hearst columnist), the very person who had NOT wanted dear WR to divorce Millicent (Mrs. Hearst).  I’d always heard differently, all those many claims and memoirs stating it’d been Millicent Hearst herself, not Marion Davies, that had made all the fuss, the former having been so staunchly Catholic. 

Guess time eventually reveals all truths and guess I’ll find out soon enough when it’s time for me to cross over. 

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

Categories
Memorial

Hollywood Sex Symbols

The Incomparable Clara Bow

Clara Bow (July 29, 1905 – September 27, 1965) was one of the sexiest ladies to ever grace the Hollywood screen yet was also one of the most troubled.  Bow’s career flourished in the 1920s, then waned with the coming of sound owing to her fragile mental health.  For more detailed information about her life, Wikipedia has an excellent account (please support Wikipedia with a gift today), and author David Stenn also wrote an impressive 1988 biography entitled Runnin’ Wild, available on Amazon.

“Runnin’ Wild” by David Stenn

Clara Bow’s name was often used synonymously with the term “It” coined by British author, Elinor Glyn, a popular writer during the early 20th Century.  Glyn was best known for fiction like 1905’s Red Hair, eventually made into a 1928 film starring Clara Bow.  Another was 1906’s Beyond the Rocks, which later became a successful 1922 film with Rudolph Valentino and Gloria Swanson.  The author was also popular for non-fiction like 1923’s The Philosophy of Love and 1925’s This Passion Called Love, which offered readers the unique perspectives of Madame Glyn (as she is often called) on the world of romance. 

Somewhere along her journey, Elinor Glyn came up with the idea of an “animal magnetism” she was certain was the driving force behind nature.  In The Philosophy of Love, Glyn writes in the chapter called Advice to Plain Girls – “In all my books I call this thing ‘It,’ as I have already explained to you.  A person has, or has not, ‘It’!  And ‘It,’ alas! does not depend upon character, or goodness, or any of the higher virtues.” And a bit further down the page she babbles on… “A woman or man with ‘It’ requires no advice from me!  Nature has equipped them with all that is necessary to insure (sic) love’s awakening, and it depends upon their own pleasure generally as to how long the passion lasts.”

Thus, was born the Glynian concept of “It.”  The author went on to proclaim that none other than silent screen star Clara Bow had that exceptional quality.  Paramount loved Glyn’s proclamation and turned the entire affair into a 1927 film called “It” with Bow in the leading role.   The actress who was now at the height of her fame, starred later that year in the popular film “Wings” with Richard Arlen and Buddy Rogers.

By most accounts, Clara Bow’s unhappy childhood was responsible for her sudden demise.  Her troubled past included a mother that had been committed to a sanitarium which was the euphemism at that time for a psychiatric ward, as well as a father who was reported to have repeatedly abused her.  It was no big surprise then when Clara began to suffer symptoms of instability during the late 1920s.

Things only grew worse with the appearance of “talking pictures” since she did not like the restrictions on action necessitated by use of the cumbersome early sound booths.  After making a just a few films, Clara Bow retired from the screen and married actor Rex Bell.  The couple moved to his ranch in Nevada and when MGM later offered her the leading role in 1932’s “Red Headed Woman,” she initially accepted, then backed out after Irving Thalberg insisted upon the long-term contract that Jean Harlow was more than happy to accept.

Western Star Rex Bell
With Eddie Cantor in “Kid Boots” 1926

As Clara Bow aged, her psychological problems worsened.  When husband, Rex Bell, unsuccessfully ran for the U.S. House of Representatives in 1944, she attempted suicide, citing her disdain for being in the public eye in a suicide note.  Later in the decade she was diagnosed with schizophrenia and spent time in an institution undergoing electroshock therapy, often used in tandem during that era with ice baths and insulin shock.

During the 1950s, Rex Bell ultimately yielded to his affinity for politics and served as Lieutenant Governor of the state of Nevada from 1955 until his death in 1962.  During that time, the couple began to spend more and more time apart, and Clara, whose physical health was now failing had begun to reside separately in Culver City, California.

Clara Bow, famous sex symbol of the 1920s, died of a heart attack on September 27, 1965, at the age of 60.