Tragic Hollywood, Beautiful, Glamorous And Dead Page 4

  Alma had one friend left among the chosen, however: Marion Davies. Davies had befriended Alma years earlier, when Hearst produced some of her earlier films. Davies stood by Alma as the rest of Hollywood turned their backs. Broke, unable to work, and in dire straits, Davies convinced Hearst to support her, and pay her medical bills. If it weren’t for this benevolence, Alma would probably have died on the streets. She died in a warm bed, from pneumonia, at the age of thirty-three.

  In her last interview with the Los Angeles Examiner, Alma finally came clean. “I’ve been miserable for so long. As long as my money held out I could get drugs. I was afraid to tell my mother, my best friend. My only desire was to get drugs and take them in secrecy. If only I could go on my knees before the police or before a judge and beg them to make stiffer laws so that men will refuse to take dirty dollars from murderers who sell this poison and who escape punishment when caught by buying their way out.”

  Charlie Chaplin once said, “Nothing is permanent in this world, not even our troubles.” Alma Rubens learned this truth the hard way.

  Alma Rubens in her coffin.

  Section II

  The Beautiful and the Doomed

  Those who seemed doomed by misfortune

  Gloria Swanson in Male and Female (1919)

  There is an old saying that warns: “the good die young.” Many old tales have been disproven, but more often than not, the good really do seem to have shorter lives. Perhaps it is merely that the impact of a lovely, vibrant life—cut tragically short—is more keenly felt, especially if that life brought joy and blissful distraction to thousands of fans. Hollywood seems to have seen more than its share of such sadness. Indeed, the real heartbreaking stories behind the screen far outnumber those projected onto it. Here are a few of those who seemed doomed by misfortune.

  Natalie Wood

  Natalie aboard the Splendour

  Lovely Natalie Wood. A precocious child star who morphed into a stunning beauty, while still retaining her sweet, approachable innocence. She truly was the girl next door. Everyone loved her, which may be why no one can let her rest in peace. The holes left in the hearts of fans everywhere when she died so tragically have only grown wider and deeper with each passing year, even as the memory of her living presence fades into the past. People seem to forget that she had been mostly written off by both her fans and the studios as a “once-was” on the pleasant November night she was taken from us.

  It all began back in 1938, with a beautiful little girl born to Russian immigrants in San Francisco. They named her Natasha Nikolaevna Zacharenko. She was four, and living in small town in Northern California called Santa Rosa(made famous a few years later in Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt), when her mother took her downtown to watch the filming of the movie, Happy Land. Biographies often describe her mother, Maria, as the ultimate stage mom; determined to get her daughter into pictures. Maria arranged for Natasha to meet the director of Happy Land, Irving Pichel, with clear instructions to “Make Mr. Pichel love you.” He did, and Natasha got a small role in his film, and a new, easier-to-pronounce name: Natalie Wood.

  Two years later, when another role opened, Pichel remembered Natalie. It was an Orson Wells film, Tomorrow Is Forever. He called Maria, and asked her to bring Natalie out for a screen test. This was all Maria needed to hear to drop everything, immediately pack her bags, and drag her entire family off to Hollywood. For the test, Natalie was required to cry on cue. Not willing to risk failure, Maria showed Natalie a butterfly, and pulled off its wings right in front of her. This had the desired effect. Natalie wept openly and profusely, got the part, was wonderful in it, and a child star was born. The Christmas classic, Miracle On 34th Street followed, and Natalie became one of the most loved—and best paid—child actors of the time.

  The filming of a scene for The Green Promise in 1949 led to Natalie’s terror of drowning in black water. She was supposed to cross a bridge which spanned a raging river during a violent storm. The bridge was to collapse and pitch her into the water, where the waiting crew would quickly fish her out. Of course, things didn’t turn out that way, and she spent several terrifying minutes struggling to keep her head above water before she was finally rescued. She nearly drowned. It was said that she wouldn’t go in water any deeper than a bathtub after that.

  She finished her childhood career with more than twenty pictures under her belt, and then entered the much-feared, awkward years of adolescence—usually a death sentence for the careers of child actors. Natalie avoided this fate by blossoming into a stunning beauty, as Elizabeth Taylor had, a few years earlier. She made a series of high-profile films during this time that would catapult her into fame, and cement her legacy as one of Hollywood’s biggest stars, including Rebel Without A Cause, Splendor in the Grass and West Side Story.

  Around this time, Natalie allegedly had an encounter with a well-known, established star. Rumor had it that this star lured Natalie to his hotel room, under the pretext of considering her for a big role in his next film. What happened to Natalie at the hands of this star has been the stuff of legend ever since. Supposedly, she was brutally raped, beaten, left to stagger out of the hotel and find her way home, dazed and injured. This star is still alive, so he will not be named, but if true, a dance around his grave when the time comes would not be inappropriate.Seen with several eligible bachelors, including Elvis Presley and James Dean, Wood ended up marrying relatively unknown actor Robert Wagner in 1957. The marriage lasted a scant five years, and the cause of the divorce varies from storyteller to storyteller. Wagner said they couldn’t merge their careers and personal lives, but in her biography on Natalie, author Suzanne Finstad wrote that she caught him in an intimate act with another man.

  Natalie’s onscreen transition from adolescent to adult proved more difficult than her seemingly effortless one from child star to teenage phenomenon. She made some very bad choices, in both her personal and professional lives, and by the early ‘70s, her career was at a standstill. She was on her second divorce, with one suicide attempt behind her. Robert Wagner reentered her life, and they decided to give their relationship another go, remarrying in 1972. During this period, she took several years off from movie making to raise her two daughters. Hollywood forgot about Natalie.

  She had been off the big screen for so long that by the mid-’70s, she was relegated to acting in television movies. She received critical acclaim in such projects as From Here To Eternity, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and The Cracker Factory, but she longed for the days when she was a major star on the silver screen. She was poised for a comeback when she began work on the big-budget sci-fi picture, Brainstorm, in 1983. The film costarred Christopher Walken—a hot commodity at the time—having won the best supporting actor award four years earlier for his riveting performance in The Deer Hunter. Alas, Natalie’s comeback was not to be.

  On November 27, 1983, the Friday after Thanksgiving, Walken joined both Wagners for a weekend pleasure cruise around Catalina Island, on the Wagners’ yacht: Splendour (named for Natalie’s favorite movie, Splendor in the Grass). Ominously, Natalie’s eleven-year-old daughter, Natasha, begged her mother not to go, afraid she would never see her again. The Wagners argued as the boat left dock—a common pastime of theirs—and Natalie spent the first night in a hotel room on the island, allegedly with Dennis Davern: skipper of the Splendour. The next day began well, but got progressively worse. They began drinking early, and kept it up all day. Natalie left the yacht with Walken, arriving at Harbor Reef bar in the afternoon; long before RJ and Davern arrived. They were buzzed when they met back up for dinner. They were drunk when they left the restaurant, several witnesses reporting that the boisterous trio guzzled one bottle after another of champagne. Suzanne Finstad wrote in her book, Natasha, that waitresses saw Natalie and Walken holding hands under the table—openly flirting through dinner—as RJ’s agitation grew each minute. A wine glass became airborne, shattered, and shards of glass flew everywhere.

  Exactly what happened ne
xt still remains a mystery. Four people were aboard the Splendour that late Saturday night: Natalie, Wagner, Walken and Davern. Only three walked off in the morning. Natalie’s body would be discovered seven hours later floating in the ocean, a mile from the yacht. She was floating upright, eyes wide open, wearing a down jacket, nightgown and socks. The untethered dinghy floated nearby. She was forty-three. What happened?

  Exactly what happened next remains a mystery even today. Four people were aboard the Splendour that late Saturday night: Natalie, Wagner, Walken and Davern. Only three walked off in the morning. Natalie’s body would be discovered seven hours later floating in the ocean, a mile from the yacht. She was floating upright, eyes wide open, wearing a down jacket, nightgown and socks. The untethered dinghy floated nearby. She was forty-three. What happened?

  Wagner said he argued about Natalie's career with Walken after returning from the restaurant. Wagner told him to mind his own business, a bottle broke over a table, and Natalie left the room so the two “gentlemen” could “work it out” amongst themselves. Wagner and Walken called a truce, and Wagner headed off to his cabin. Later, he realized Natalie and the dinghy were missing. When her body was found, he said she must have slipped while trying to hitch up the dinghy, to keep it from banging against the side of the yacht, and keeping her awake. Wagner denied, for decades, that he and Natalie fought in the cabin after leaving Walken, but finally admitted that a fight had indeed occurred in his 2008 autobiography.

  Dennis Davern backed up everything Wagner said back in 1981, and for thirty years afterwards. But in 2011, an attack of conscience led to his blabbing to CBS News (Listen to the blabbing on CBS News) about all sorts of things that went down that fateful night. He said that the argument between Wagner and Walken was about Natalie herself, not her career, and remembers RJ yelling “You want to fuck my wife?!?” before bashing a wine bottle on a table. Davern reported that after everyone went to their separate corners, there was a serious—verging on violent—argument between Natalie and RJ that could be heard all over the boat, which ended with Natalie storming out of the room, RJ on her heels. Moments later, he claimed, he heard the couple shouting again, this time on the side of the boat where the dinghy was. In secret tapes handed over to the police by biographer Suzanne Finstad, Natalie’s sister, Lana, is heard telling Finstad that Davern called her ten years after Natalie’s death, and told her he saw RJ do the deed: “He shoved her away. She fell overboard.”1 RJ then decided to “teach her a lesson” by leaving her there, while he and Davern went inside to have a few more drinks. They allegedly kept hearing her cries for help, and when the sounds stopped, RJ became panicked. On the tape, Lana claims that Davern told her he wanted to notify the Coast Guard immediately when they noticed she was missing, but Wagner wanted to wait and see if she would return in the dinghy. The authorities would not be notified for another two hours. Why didn’t Davern say any of this closer to the time of the alleged crime? He claims he was pressured by RJ and his lawyer to lie to the cops to protect RJ.

  This was enough for the police, who stated “substantial new evidence” as their reason for reopening the case, and it remains open as of this writing. Even the coroner decided to take a second look, and in doing so, amended Natalie’s cause of death from accidental drowning to “Drowning and other causes undetermined,” citing significant, unexplained bruising on her arms and legs as the reason for the change.

  The timing of all of this is interesting. Davern coauthored a book about the case in 2008, Goodbye Natalie, Goodbye Splendour, which garnered no attention whatsoever when it was first published. But on the thirtieth anniversary of Natalie’s death, and following a ten-minute interview on 48 Hours Mystery, everyone was suddenly paying attention to this man and his story.

  This is a mystery that should be solved. There are at least two people who know exactly what happened that night, but they have very different stories...so who is telling the truth? One has a financial motivation to lie, and the other has a legal motivation, so the chances that the truth will ever be told are not good. In the end, it doesn’t really matter. Natalie is gone forever, and no amount of speculation or investigation will ever bring her back.

  There is a touching scene in the film Tomorrow Is Forever where she, as a tiny, frightened orphan, is walking away from the camera, her hand tightly clasped in the great bulk of a man: Orson Wells. The camera slowly fades out. Tomorrow is forever, unless your tomorrows are stolen in a cruel and senseless twist of fate, and swallowed by the dark November waters of your nightmares.

  Rest in peace, Natasha.

  Judy Tyler

  The scene of the accident that killed Judy Tyler

  When Jailhouse Rock was released in November of 1957, it was a huge hit, and elevated its young singing star—Elvis Presley—to even greater heights of fame. Many eyes were drawn, however, to his lovely costar: Judy Tyler. The chemistry between the two was palpable in the intimate publicity stills, and it oozed from them on the screen. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know who this sexy girl with the catlike eyes and tiny waist was. Elvis seemed genuinely smitten onscreen. Practically before the world had a chance to learn her name, it was reported that poor Judy had been tragically killed in an automobile accident six months prior to the release of the movie, just weeks after the shoot had wrapped. Judy, who seemed on the cusp of a promising career, was dead at twenty-three, before she ever really got started. So who was Judy Tyler?

  Judy was born in Milwaukee, in 1932. Her father, Julian Hess, played trumpet for Benny Goodman’s orchestra. Her mother, Loreleo, had been a Ziegfeld Follies girl. Judy grew into a stunning beauty herself, quitting school to model for Harry Conover, creator of the “Cover Girl” concept. She later moved to Manhattan, and danced in the Copacabana chorus line, all while still under eighteen years old. In 1952, she tried out for, and won, the role of Princess Summerfallwinterspring on the wildly popular children’s television show, The Howdy Doody Show. The show gave Tyler national exposure, but she soon developed a reputation for wild behavior that did not fit at all with her squeaky-clean character. In his book about The Howdy Doody Show, What Time Is It Kids?, Stephan Davis, the show’s writer/director, recounted numerous incidents that featured Tyler’s insatiable appetite for sex and wild partying, as well as her very unladylike language. A coworker, Bob Nicholson, said of her “I’d go out on weekend appearances with her, and while we’d get along fine, she would just as soon tell a store manager to go fuck himself as she would look at him.” She also enjoyed stripping and dancing on tabletops on her days off, reportedly.

  Tired of the limited scope of her character, Judy left The Howdy Doody Show two years later, and returned to the stage. In 1956, she again drew national attention when she won a Tony nomination for her role in the play, Pipe Dream. This landed her on the cover of Life magazine, an honor she shared with another tragic beauty, Jayne Mansfield. This led to a guest appearance on The Perry Mason Show, and a role in the B movie, Bop Girl Goes Calypso. She was then approached by the producers of Jailhouse Rock, who cast her as Peggy Van Alden, opposite Elvis Presley.

  By the time Judy was cast in Jailhouse Rock, she was already on her second marriage, this time to actor Greg Lafayette. The maid of honor at her Baltimore wedding had been Pattie Paige. The couple settled in New York, but Hollywood beckoned, and Judy and Greg flew to the west coast so she could begin filming.

  Much was written about the sparks the flew right away between Elvis and Judy, and this was not lost on Greg, who became so disruptive that he was banned from the set. Elvis and Judy smolder in one double entendre-laden scene after the next, and witnesses said their ardor carried over into long lunch breaks and after hours rendezvous. One of Judy’s best lines in the film is when Elvis asks why she’s interested in him. She fixes him with those catlike eyes, and says, “I like the way you swing a guitar.” Racy stuff in 1957.

  The film wrapped in June. Judy and her husband chose to drive, rather than fly, home. They were driving on Highway 30, thro
ugh the wilderness of Wyoming, in late afternoon, when they neared a popular tourist trap: Wild Bills Curios and Petting Zoo. It was one of those weird little places that provided a distraction from the endless monotony of Wyoming’s vast, open plains. As they drew near to the intersection by the store, another vehicle pulled out from the parking lot, and swung in front of them, causing Greg to wildly swerve their car at high speed. This led to an uncontrolled skid into oncoming traffic, and their vehicle was broadsided on the passenger’s side by a northbound car. The impact was so violent, Judy was reportedly torn in half. She died instantly, of course, with Greg dying several hours later. The circumstances were similar to those in James Dean’s accident, two years earlier. The time of day might have been a factor, as the sun was beginning to set, and the approaching car could have been blinded.

  When Elvis found out, he was inconsolable, at least for a while. According to witnesses, he openly wept, and talked of never being able to watch Jailhouse Rock again. George Klein, one of Elvis’s oldest friends, said he and Elvis drove around Memphis for hours that day, just talking about Judy. Elvis supposedly told a reporter “Nothing has hurt me as bad in my life. I just don’t believe I can stand to see the movie we made together now. Just don’t believe I can.” Some say Elvis kept that vow, but others say he had already moved on, and was seeing Anita Wood within weeks of Judy’s death.