Three weeks before his death at 31, Rudolph Valentino took stock and observed. “Life is too fast for me. A man should control his life. My life is controlling me.” Rudolph Valentino life was viewed thusly: vain, lazy handsome, well-built, slender, good-tempered. He wanted to make good and he wanted to make good in the he-man, two-fisted, bronco busting, poker-playing, stock-juggling America. But they called him a “pink powderpuff” of a man. Rambova didn’t though. The great lover was Natacha Rambova’s her man all hers. She molded him the way she wanted him. She drummed into him her philosophies, her moods. She was one of the “controlling factors” in the short but reasonably happy life of Rudolph Valentino. Rambova was a far more interesting and colorful figure than the legendary Valentino. She possessed amazing talent and a tremendous mind. Above all else she was an artist, a ballerina, a painter, an actress, designer, writer. Her maxim was “self-expression through art is the only worthwhile thing in life”. A writer said “Natacha didn’t need suggestions only obedience. When she gave a decisive judgement, anyone who countered was always wrong because she was always right. This was the second wife of the sometimes simple often lonely Valentino “the cinematic symbol of primitive love”. They were married about two years and most probably in love the entire time. Valentino worked Natacha for her brains, her beauty and she respected his talent and achievements. Men were jealous of him and envious. He lived a life that could have been better lived if the choices he made were based on thought rather than emotion.