Posts Tagged With: Rudolph Valentino
18 Apr 1954 – Permission to Marry Granted
17 Apr 1934 – GUGLIELMI’S ESTATE. ULLMAN v. GUGLIELMI
District Court of Appeal, First District, Division 2, California. GUGLIELMI’S ESTATE. ULLMAN v. GUGLIELMI ET AL Civ. 9321.
Decided: April 17, 1934
Newlin & Ashburn and Gwyn Redwine, both of Los Angeles, for appellant. Scarborough & Bowen and McGee & Sumner, all of Los Angeles, for respondent Bank of America National Trust & Savings Ass’n.
Appeals were taken from an order of the probate court settling the account current and report of the executor and from an order denying a petition for partial distribution. Both appeals are presented on the same typewritten transcripts.
Rodolpho Guglielmi, also known as Rudolph Valentino, a motion picture actor, died testate August 23, 1926. On October 13, 1926, the appellant herein was appointed executor, and thereupon entered upon the administration of his estate. The pertinent portions of the decedent’s will, which was duly admitted to probate, provide:
“First: I hereby revoke all former Wills by me made and I hereby nominate and appoint S. George Ullman of the city of Los Angeles, County of Los Angeles, State of California, the executor of this my last will and testament, Without bonds, either upon qualifying or in any stage of the settlement of my said estate.
“Second: I direct that my Executor pay all of my just debts and funeral expenses, as soon as may be practicable after my death.
“Third: I give, devise and bequeath unto my wife, Natacha Rambova, also known as Natacha Guglielmi, the sum of One Dollar ($1.00), it being my intention, desire and will that she receive this sum and no more.
“Fourth: All the residue and remainder of my estate, both real and personal, I give, devise and bequeath unto S. George Ullman, of the city of Los Angeles, County of Los Angeles, State of California, to have and to hold the same in trust and for the use of Alberto Guglielmi, Maria Guglielmi and Teresa Werner, the purposes of the aforesaid trust are as follows: to hold, manage, and control the said trust property and estate: to keep the same invested and productive as far as possible; to receive the rents and profits therefrom, and to pay over the net income derived therefrom to the said Alberto Guglielmi, Maria Guglielmi and Teresa Werner, as I have this day instructed him; to finally distribute the said trust estate according to my wish and will, as I have this day instructed him.”
The instructions referred to in paragraph 4 of the will are as follows:
“To S. George Ullman.
“I have this day named you as executor in my last will and testament; it is my desire that you perpetuate my name in the picture industry by continuing the Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc., until my nephew Jean shall have reached the age of 25 years; in the meantime to make motion pictures, using your own judgment as to numbers and kind, keeping control of any pictures made, if possible.
“Whenever there are profits from pictures made by the Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc., it is my wish that you will pay to my brother Alberto the sum of $400.00 monthly, to my sister Maria the sum of $200.00 monthly, and to my dear friend Mrs. Werner the sum of $200.00 monthly.
“When my nephew Jean reaches the age of 25 years, I desire that the residue, if any, be given to him. In the event of his death then the residue shall be distributed equally to my sister Maria and my brother Alberto.
“Rodolpho Guglielmi
“Rudolph Valentino.”
In due time the probate court decided that these instructions were made contemporaneously with the will and became a part of the execution of the will, also that the will and the instructions taken together constituted the full terms of the trust created by the will.
Notice to creditors was given, and all claims were paid or settled or had become barred when the account was filed. The inventory and appraisal filed April 13, 1927, showed real and personal property amounting to $244,033.15. A supplementary inventory and appraisal filed January 9, 1928, showed additional real and personal property amounting to $244,550 or a total estate of over $488,000.
On February 28, 1928, appellant filed his first account as executor, to which objections were made by Alberto Guglielmi and Maria Guglielmi Strada, the brother and sister of deceased. Proceedings for the settlement of this account were abandoned. On April 5, 1930, appellant filed a new first account to which objections were made by the same parties, but were not heard. On June 7, 1930, appellant filed his resignation as executor, which was accepted, and the respondent Bank of America was appointed administrator with the will annexed. On August 18, 1930, appellant filed a supplemental account, to which the administrator filed objections, including the objections made by the brother and sister to the former accounts. These accounts, with the objections of the administrator and of these heirs, came on for hearing on November 5, 1930, and on August 8, 1932, the probate court made the decree from which this appeal is taken.
In the course of this hearing, the question arose as to the legality of advances made by appellant to the brother and sister of the deceased and to another beneficiary of the will, and, on the suggestion of the court, a petition for partial distribution was filed by the administrator. On the hearing of that petition, the probate court found that the decedent left surviving him as his only heirs at law Alberto Guglielmi and Maria Guglielmi Strada; that the only persons entitled to benefit from the trust created by the will were said heirs, Teresa Werner, and Jean Guglielmi; that the questions relative to the advances made to three of the above beneficiaries were determined by the decree settling the account entered contemporaneously with this account; and that, because of the condition of the estate, no partial distribution should be decreed.
During his lifetime the decedent had been engaged in various activities in addition to his work as an actor. He was interested in the production and development of pictures under the corporate name of Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc., which, however, was but an alter ego. He was engaged in the exploitation of chemical discoveries under the corporate name of Cosmic Arts, Inc. He was also sole owner of a cleaning business under the name of Ritz, Inc. In March, 1925, decedent made a contract with a motion picture producer under which he agreed to give his services as a motion picture actor to that producer exclusively. In April, 1925, he assigned his interest in the profits under this contract to Cosmic Arts, Inc. In August, 1925, Cosmic Arts, Inc., assigned its interest in this contract to Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc. The stockholders in Cosmic Arts, Inc., were the decedent, Natacha Rambova, his wife, and Teresa Werner, his wife’s aunt. Though these three corporations were separate entities, the decedent for a long time prior to his death conducted the affairs of all three under the ostensible name of Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc., making all expenditures through the latter, with little regard for the corporate identity of the other two concerns. During this period, the appellant served in the capacity of business manager and personal representative of the decedent; superintendent of Ritz, Inc.; secretary, treasurer, and director of Cosmic Arts, Inc.; and manager of Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc., his compensation for all these services being paid by Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc.
Immediately upon his qualification as executor, and acting upon the asserted authority of the will to continue the Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc., for the purpose of perpetuating the name of deceased, the appellant entered upon the management of all these concerns in the same manner in which they had been conducted in the lifetime of the decedent. In these transactions the appellant, seemingly acting as the executor of the estate rather than as trustee under the will, paid all claims outstanding against the decedent, personal as well as those incurred by the corporations mentioned. The exact figures covering these expenditures are not material to this inquiry, but the appellant emphasizes the fact that as executor he took an estate which was heavily involved financially and practically bankrupt, and through his management all indebtedness was cleared and the property of the estate was increased in value to $890,000.
In the course of the conduct of these activities, the appellant borrowed and loaned money, executed mortgages and retired existing liens, purchased new property to be used in the business, and sold property belonging to the estate. To obtain publicity to aid in the display of the decedent’s pictures, two spectacular funerals were held––one in New York and one in Los Angeles––and Valentino Memorial Clubs were organized in many different centers. Because of the financial condition of the estate at the time, these expenditures were paid largely from money borrowed by the executor on his personal obligations, and all, or nearly all, were made without an order of court. When funds accumulated through the distribution of pictures, the appellant made loans, some with security and some without. In September, 1927, he loaned one Mae Murray $22,000 at 7 per cent. In March, 1928, he loaned the Pan American Company $50,000 at seven per cent., secured by Pan American Bank stock of the then value of $78,000; at various times during the year 1928 he loaned one Frank Menillo $40,000 at 8 per cent. The Murray loan was repaid. The Pan American loan was compromised at a loss of $16,000 to the estate, with which amount appellant was charged to account with interest on the full amount of the loan. The Menillo loan was unpaid at the time of the entry of the decree herein, and appellant was charged to account in full with interest.
The ruling of the probate court on these two items presents the principal ground of attack upon the decree. If appellant was authorized to carry on the business of the decedent, to invest and reinvest the funds in his hands, then any losses arising from these transactions must be borne by the estate. If he was not so authorized, the losses are his. The question of the right of an executor to carry on the business of the deceased when so directed by the testator first came directly before our appellate courts in Estate of Ward. 127 Cal. App. 347, 15 P.(2d) 901, a case which was decided after the decree herein was entered. In that case Judge Ames, sitting pro tempore in the appellate court, carefully reviewed the authorities, and concluded that, in the absence of fraud or mismanagement, an executor should not be charged with losses while he is following out the instructions of the testator. Numerous authorities from other jurisdictions are cited by Judge Ames, to which reference may be had in that opinion. This distinction between the two cases should be noted––here all these loans were made from profits of the estate accumulated by the executor; in the Ward Case the losses were in the principal. The conclusions there reached compel a reversal of the decree as to the Pan American and Menillo loans because they were attacked on the sole ground that they were made without order of court or without “sufficient” surety, but were not attacked upon any charge of fraud or mismanagement.
The dual capacity of the executor and trustee involved in this appeal is the same as that considered in the Ward estate, where the court, after reviewing authorities on that subject, held that, taking the will as a whole, it could not have been the intention of the testator to suspend operations of the business during the period of time required for the administration of the estate and the appointment of a trustee. The case here is even stronger than the will interpreted in the Ward Case, because the instructions of the testator to the trustee are so blended and mingled that they could scarcely be separated the one from the other. The directions to the executor to “perpetuate my name in the picture industry by continuing the Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc.,” and the directions, to the trustee “to hold, manage, and control the said trust, property, and estate; to keep the same invested and productive as far as possible,” disclose an intention of the testator to treat the executor and trustee without the legal distinction that a court would draw between the two offices.
For these reasons we conclude that the executor was both authorized and directed by the will to carry on the business of the decedent as it had been carried on in his lifetime, and that the investments made by him through loans to the Pan American Company and to Menillo were made in the course of the operation of that business, and, being without fraud, the appellant should not be charged for the losses occurring therefrom, nor should he be surcharged with interest on account of any investments made in his management of the estate.
The probate court charged appellant with an item of $17,280.19 expended by him in compliance with a contract of Cosmic Arts, Inc. This item presents an issue closely related to that just discussed. Cosmic Arts, Inc., was a family corporation organized by the deceased. Ten shares of stock were issued, all in the name of Natacha Rambova, the then wife of the decedent. One of these shares was transferred to her aunt, another to the decedent, and the three were the directors. Decedent resigned from the directorship and had the appellant appointed in his place. While the latter was acting as director and treasurer of the corporation and under the authority of the by–laws, he executed a contract with one Lambert obligating the corporation to bear any and all expenses in connection with the patenting, sale, and exploitation of patents covering a chemical discovery called Lambertite. For a considerable period prior to his death, the affairs of this corporation were conducted by the decedent as his alter ego, acting through the appellant as his personal manager in very much the same manner as the affairs of the Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc., were conducted. The contract referred to was apparently ratified by the corporation, and the expenses of the corporation were paid by the decedent, not only in connection with the patenting of the process, but in the conduct of the laboratory in New York City for the development of the process. Upon his qualification as executor the appellant continued to pay these expenses, amounting to a total of over $19,000 and so accounted to the estate. In the hearing of the objections to this item, the appellant contended that the entire stock of the corporation had been transferred to the decedent through a property settlement made at the time of the separation with his wife, but the separation agreement was not produced. The contract with Lambert was received in evidence, and from this the probate court found that Cosmic Arts, Inc., was entitled to one–third of the profits resulting from the sale and exploitation of the patents, and that therefore it was liable for but one–third of the expenses incurred in the patenting, sale, and exploitation of the process. Upon this theory it was concluded that the decedent and his estate were liable for but one–ninth of these expenses, basing this conclusion solely upon the theory that Cosmic Arts, Inc., was a family corporation organized by the decedent, his wife, and his wife’s aunt, in which the decedent had a one–third interest.
The evidence on this issue is in such an unsatisfactory state that it is impossible at this time to determine the issue. It is manifest that it was tried by the probate court without the benefit of the decision in the Ward Case, and that, if the facts justify the contention of the appellant that Cosmic Arts, Inc., was also an alter ego of the decedent, the business of which appellant was authorized by the will to carry on under the will, then such losses incurred by appellant in the operation of that business as may be found to have been incurred without fraud or mismanagement must, under the rule of the Ward Case, be held to be the losses of the estate and not of the appellant. For these reasons this issue should be retried.
Appellant, complains of the ruling of the probate court surcharging him with interest on the full amount of moneys withdrawn by him on account of his fees for extraordinary services in advance of an order of court authorizing any fee for such services. The evidence discloses that during his period of administration the appellant withdrew from the funds of the estate sums aggregating $22,300, for which he asked credit in the settlement of his account upon the basis of extraordinary services rendered the estate. The probate court disallowed the item and charged appellant to account for interest at the rate of 7 per cent. from the time of each withdrawal. It then allowed the appellant an additional fee for extraordinary services fixed at $15,000. The appellant now argues that this sum should be subtracted from the total amount withdrawn, and that he should be charged to return to the estate the difference, amounting to $7,300, and should be charged interest on that amount only. Authorities cited by the appellant relating to statutory fees to which an executor is entitled as matter of right do not apply to a case of this kind. Extraordinary fees are allowed an executor within the discretion of the probate court, and, unless and until an order is made, there is no obligation on the part of the estate to pay more than the statutory fees. Hence, when an executor upon his own motion withdraws the funds of an estate to pay himself fees in addition to the amount allowed by statute, he is to be charged with the amount thereof, with interest thereon from the date of withdrawal. Estate of Piercy, 168 Cal. 755, 757, 145 P. 91.
It is next contended that the court erred in holding the appellant liable for the advances to the brother and sister of the decedent and to Teresa Werner on account of what he deemed to be their distributive shares of the estate. The court found in its decree settling the account that the executor improperly and without authority or order of court advanced to decedent’s brother over $37,000 out of the funds and property of the estate; to the decedent’s sister over $12,000 in cash and personal property; to Teresa Werner over $7,000 in cash; and to Frank A. Menillo at various times and in various amounts an aggregate sum of $9,100. Having ruled during the hearing on the settlement of the account that it was not competent for the court in that proceeding to determine questions of heirship, and having directed a special proceeding to be instituted for that purpose, the court, contemporaneously with the entry of its decree in the settlement of the account, entered its decree in the other proceeding wherein it was found that the brother and sister were the only surviving heirs at law of the decedent, and that the only persons entitled to benefit under the will were the brother, the sister, Teresa Werner, a stranger, and Jean Guglielmi, a nephew of decedent. It will be recalled that under the terms of the instructions the brother, the sister, and Mrs. Werner were each to receive a stipulated sum monthly until the nephew, Jean, reached the age of 25 years, when the residue was directed to be given to him; that, in the event of the death of the nephew, the residue was to be distributed equally between the brother and sister. It is apparent from these provisions of the will that Teresa Werner was entitled to participate in the assets of the estate only to the extent of a monthly payment out of profits which the executor derived from pictures made under his direction, and that the brother and sister were entitled to a distributive share in the estate only in the event of the death of the nephew, Jean. It necessarily follows that advancements made to these individuals in excess of the monthly payments directed by the will were improper. The appellant does not question this final result, but does criticize the method by which the court expressed its conclusion. In its decree in the proceeding for partial distribution, it declared the issues relative to these advances had been determined by its decree correcting and settling the account of the executor, and that by reason of the foregoing decree said advances “are hereby declared to be void and improper and chargeable to said executor herein.” It is true, as argued by the appellant, that the issue covering the propriety of advances on distributive shares is not one which may be determined on a hearing of a settlement of the executor’s account, but that such issue can be determined only upon a hearing for distribution, partial or final. 12 Cal. Jur. 181. We are not, however, in accord with appellant’s view that the court was in error so far as it went. Though reference is made in its decree to the order settling the account, there is sufficient in the decree denying distribution to constitute a determination that these advances were void and improper and as such chargeable to the executor.
There are certain equities involved in this issue which require comment. In the will proper, which was admitted to probate in October, 1926, the executor was directed to hold all the property in trust “to keep the same invested and productive as far as possible and to pay over the net income derived therefrom” to Alberto and Maria Guglielmi and to Teresa Werner. Four years later, the appellant, in answer to the petition for partial distribution, came into court and for the first time set forth a copy of the written instructions which he alleged had been executed contemporaneously with the execution of the will and which he alleged had been lost, destroyed, or surreptitiously removed from the personal effects and safe of the decedent. In the decree entered in that proceeding the probate court found this to be a true copy of the original instructions executed by the decedent, and declared that said instructions should be taken together as the complete terms of the trust created by the will. Under the terms of these instructions, the appellant was directed to pay to Alberto Guglielmi $400 a month, to Maria Guglielmi $200 a month, and to Mrs. Werner $200 a month out of the “profits from pictures made by the Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc.” Then for the first time the nephew, Jean, is mentioned, and to him is given the entire residue when he reaches the age of 25 years. This is followed by the proviso that in the event of his death the residue should be distributed equally to Alberto and Maria. It will be noted that under the terms of the will proper the appellant was directed to pay over to Alberto and Maria and to Mrs. Werner the net income derived from the estate as a whole, whereas under the terms of the written instructions he was directed to pay stipulated amounts monthly to each of the three from profits from pictures made by the Rudolph Valentino Productions, Inc. It does not appear from the record who was responsible for the loss of the written instructions following the decedent’s death nor whether the appellant had any information or knowledge of their terms prior to the advancements he made to these three. It does appear that all these advances were made with the consent and at the solicitation of the three beneficiaries involved. We are in accord with the holding of the probate court that these advances were improperly made if the terms of the written instructions are held to be controlling over the terms of the fourth paragraph of the will proper and if these advances are held to have been made from funds other than the net income derived from the estate as a whole. Under the rule of Estate of Willey, 140 Cal. 238, 73 P. 998, this is an issue which cannot be tried or determined in the proceeding for the settlement of the account, but is one which could have been determined on the proceeding for partial distribution. The proper practice is as outlined in the Willey Case to retire from the consideration of the settlement of the account the question of the propriety of advances of distributive shares so that that question can be determined on distribution of the estate. The record on the petition for distribution does not disclose that this question was fully tried and determined. Manifestly, if these three beneficiaries were entitled to the net income derived from the management of the estate as a whole, and if the advances made to them by the appellant were from that net income alone, he should not be charged to account to the estate in full for those advances or for interest as if he had defaulted or misapplied the funds to his own use. On the other hand, if, upon final distribution, it be found that the nephew is dead and that the brother and sister are then entitled under the will to the entire residue, then the amounts advanced to them by the appellant may be held to have been advanced on account of their distributive shares, and appellant would be entitled to a credit accordingly. These considerations were undoubtedly in the contemplation of the probate court when, in rendering its decree denying partial distribution, it found that it was unable to determine whether there would be sufficient funds or property to distribute to the trustee or to permit the trust to be executed and performed, and for that reason reserved its determination of the ultimate practicability of the trust until the final distribution of the estate. But, in any event, if these advances were made in good faith and at the solicitation of the beneficiaries, and appellant is held to be accountable to the estate in full therefor, he should be given an appropriate lien against the beneficial interest of those who participated in the advancement of the property and funds of the estate. In re Moore, 96 Cal. 522, 31 P. 584; Finnerty v. Pennie, 100 Cal. 404, 407, 34 P. 869; Estate of Schluter, 209 Cal. 286, 289, 286 P. 1008.
Though the appellant has not assigned any special error for the reversal of the order denying partial distribution, the equities herein referred to impel a reversal, so that both matters may be before the probate court for new proceedings consistent with the views herein expressed.
The orders appealed from are both reversed.
NOURSE, Presiding Justice.
We concur: STURTEVANT, J.; SPENCE, J.
11 Feb 1934 – Ullman Loses Suit

Feb 1924 – Mineralava Winner Update
1920’s – Mixology
Since the Pandemic began a couple of years ago, there had been a phlethera of Old Hollywood Virtual Lectures with a portion dedicated to favorite Silent Film Stars cocktail receipes. I thought I would include a few that have not been featured anywhere else.

1 Jan 2024 – Mineralava Beauty Contest Continues
The month of January will be filled with continuing news articles on the Mineralava Beauty Contest. Contest winners were making local and national news in order to gather interest from the general public for potential movie career opportunities.
I want to take this opportunity to thank you and with you a Happy and Healthy New Year.
28 Dec 1984 – Mary MacLaren Interview
27 Dec 1925 – Man who punched Valentino found fame
1996 – Shear Destiny: Yvonne Sapia’s Valentino’s Hair
In 1926, a young Puerto Rican barber named Facundo Nieves is summoned by an exclusive Manhattan hotel to cut the hair of Rudolph Valentino, touching off a chain of tragic and compassionate events that comprise Yvonne Sapia’s imaginative first novel, Valentino’s Hair. Sapia creates a novel that is noteworthy for its creative narrative structure, its use of historical context, and its resonant motifs that allow the author to explore the consequences of forbidden love in a xenophobic and racist United States. This essay is a modest at- tempt to identify and discuss the implications of the issues that Sapia raises, as well as to examine the narrative structure and historical context within which she places them and the motifs which serve to illuminate them. More specifically, I will argue that Sapia’s use of his- torical materials and motifs enables her to move beyond the telling of a modern fairy tale with a familiar theme (the abuse of a magical talisman) toward an effective critique of race relations during a specific period of U.S. history. Paradoxically, her lack of attention to interracial issues during a subsequent period of U.S. history, also depicted in the novel, calls into question the novel’s optimistic resolution. The novel is composed of two interwoven narrative strands. The first is Facundo Nieves’s dying confession to his son Lupe of how he cut Valentino’s hair and later used the clippings to create a powerful aphrodisiac that ultimately proved fatal to the young woman he seduced. Sapia skillfully parcels out this story, interspersing it with the second, longer narrative which details Lupe’s coming of age, so that the reader does not learn until the penultimate chapter that this first- person narrative is Facundo’s dying confession. If the reader will bear with me, it is necessary at this point to summarize briefly the key events of Facundo’s story. It is 1926, Facundo Nieves operates a small barbershop in a first- class Manhattan hotel where one hot, summer day he is called by the front desk to give one of the guests a haircut. Upon his arrival at the hotel room, Nieves is stunned to find that his customer is Rudolph Valentino, one of his movie idols. As Nieves cuts the star’s hair, Valentino confides in the barber and tells him, “You do not realize it, but you are cutting away at my life too, time leaving me like mo- ments falling to the floor”. When the haircut is finished, Valenti- no gives him a hundred dollar bill, compliments his work and departs, while Nieves, “like a madman,” gathers up the clippings of Valentino’s hair. A few weeks later, Valentino collapses, is hospitalized and under- goes surgery for an unnamed illness. His condition worsens and Nieves is drawn by some instinct to the hospital where he is allowed to shave Valentino, whose last words to the barber are “cuida el pelo,” take care of the hair. The next day Valentino is dead and Nieves, un- nerved by the star’s final words to him, consults one of the local bru- jas (literally a witch, but more properly a sort of folk healer). The bruja tells Facundo that the hair is “the most powerful aphrodisiac” she has ever seen and she instructs him in its use, but warns him that it also has the potential to be misused. Facundo then learns the whereabouts of Valentino’s body and is given a pass admitting him to a private viewing later in the day. As word of Valentino’s death spreads, an unruly crowd gathers outside the funeral home and it is in this chaos that Nieves bumps into the young white woman he has long desired but who has consistently rebuffed his attentions. As they gaze upon Valentino’s body, Facundo whispers to her that he has some of Valentino’s hair and she accompanies him back to the barbershop where Nieves allows her to see and touch the hair. Suddenly she swoons and Nieves revives her with some rum into which he has mixed the aphrodisiac made from his blood and Valentino’s hair, a potion of which he also partakes. The effects are immediate and dramatic. As they make love in the barber chair, the woman calls out Valentino’s name and appears to lose consciousness a second time, even as Nieves continues to make love to her. Suddenly, he realizes that she is dead, that he has killed her and, in the novel’s most disturbing scene, Nieves still under the spell of the aphrodisiac-penetrates the woman a third time. As the effect of the aphrodisiac wears off, the horrible enormity of his actions settles upon Nieves. He slashes at his legs with a razor, becomes violently ill and loses consciousness. When he comes to, he manages to call his friend Mangual, who convinces the barber that his role in the woman’s death must be covered up. With the help of two Puerto Rican nationals, the dead woman is smuggled out of the hotel and her death made to appear the suicide of a woman dis- traught over the death of Valentino. The ruse is successful; foul play is not suspected and Nieves is never implicated in her death. Thus, ends the narrative timeline of 1926, all of which Nieves confesses his son Lupe on his deathbed in 1960. The second major storyline, told in the third person, relates coming of age in 1950s New York, as he learns about life’s hardships and ultimately is forced to reassess his father and the legacy bestowed upon Lupe. Through his eyes we see portraits of different family and community members and learn something of their gle and suffering, as well as the elements that bond them together. this sense, Sapia uses Lupe as a camera lens through which she ates snapshots of his extended family, creating of the novel a family album of the Puerto Rican community in The Bronx. This narrative structure, alternating between two prominent ries and two distinct voices, allows Sapia to achieve certain effects well as to explore different themes. Facundo’s dying confession which is disrupted by the story of Lupe’s coming of age-is used generate suspense and drive the narrative: the reader is anxious know what Facundo will do with the hair. But the confession is also used to focus attention on particular themes: issues of social power, responsibility, and the consequences of abusing such power. Lupe’s coming of age, on the other hand, allows Sapia to portray a commu- nity of people as seen through the eyes of one of its members who is learning how to function within it. There is also a third, less promi- nent narrative voice, most clearly visible in the chapter “Mythology of Hair,” that is scholarly, detached and almost clinical, and moves from scientific authority to mythological authority. Here, Sapia discusses common beliefs in the supernatural power of hair, one in stance of the magic and folklore that appear throughout the book and are shared beliefs in the Puerto Rican community. One of the myths discussed in this chapter is the idea that hair contains an individual’s essence and that the cutting of hair robs a person of some of his or her strength and vitality, as in the biblical story of Samson and Delilah which Sapia mentions. As she writes in the novel, “Said to have magical powers, its removal disturbs the spirit of the head, the soul of the body. The notion is universal that a person may be bewitched by means of clippings of hair”. This is precisely the notion that Sapia dramatizes in her novel in order to comment upon the very human need to possess what one desires, an attitude facilitated by the hedonism characteristic of the Jazz Age. The story of Valentino and Facundo’s use of his hair is very much linked to the historical time frame of those events. In many ways, Facundo’s actions, Valentino’s actions, and Valentino himself mirror the era. From the very outset of the novel, Sapia is careful to emphasize the 1920s as a distinct historical period: “In 1926, I was young, and I was a part of a world filled with such life, a world which was eating at its own edges without being satisfied. The Roaring Twenties they didn’t roar, Lupe. They swelled with passions. They danced, and I danced with them”. Facundo’s words here, as he begins his confession to Lupe, are ironic, for by the time the read- er reaches the conclusion of his story, she will have witnessed the dance of the 1920s, become a mob scene foreshadowing the violence of the decade to follow and like the insatiable appetite that Facundo attributes to the decade, he too will be driven by a passion he cannot control nor satisfy, as he causes a woman’s death and engages in necrophilia. Facundo’s characterization of the Roaring Twenties is just one ex- ample of how the first chapter of the novel is a crucial touchstone for the remainder of the text. Many of the events described in the opening chapter will be repeated in perverse fashion or with ironic intent later in the book and it is this doubling that gives the novel its resonance. Sapia foreshadows and underscores the importance of the rep- etition of events by means of an insistent mirror motif which she introduces almost immediately, following Facundo’s description of the 1920’s, on the narrative’s first page: “There were four large oval mirrors in the barbershop, two on one wall, two on the opposite wall. always thought they stared at each other like distant lovers, never permitted to kiss, only allowed to long for each other with their cool but secretive stares”. Not only do the mirrors placed directly across from one another so that an image caught between them replicated infinitely-suggest the duplication of events to follow as well as a doubling of desire (after luring the young woman to the barbershop and seeing her reflection in the mirror, Facundo will comment, “Now I had two of her”, their description here as “distant lovers, never permitted to kiss,” strikes the first note of the theme of forbidden love which motivates the barber’s actions later in the book, including both his decision to seduce the woman and his resolve to cover up the circumstances of her death. Mirrors are also used in the novel as a familiar device to suggest another persona latent in the viewer or as a sort of oracle that reveals the true self in a world and era obsessed with appearances. For example, as Facundo rides the elevator up to Valentino’s hotel room he glimpses his reflection in a small mirror and is surprised by what he sees: “And for that moment I thought I saw someone else. Someone who was walking towards me from another place we held in common”. And, significantly, Facundo’s first glimpse of Valentino is in a mirror with the star’s reflection alongside his own, suggesting a union of sorts and foreshadowing the ways in which Facundo’s destiny will become linked to Valentino’s. In Valentino’s case, mirror is used to suggest the disjuncture between his private self his public persona. As Facundo prepares to cut his hair, Valentino asks him to help with the man in the mirror and Facundo describes Valentino as staring “directly into the eyes of the pitiful man thought he saw in the mirror”. He continues, “I began to and disguise that perfect face, slowly, with compliance, like an complice to the development of the belief in one god” two lines suggest the extent to which Valentino’s carefully fabricated image governed every moment of his life. As Gaylyn Studlar has ed, accounts of Valentino’s early life were rewritten numerous by Hollywood publicity agents in repeated attempts to sustain popularity. In the following passage, we can see that Facundo nothing about any ideas or feelings that do not coincide with Valentino created through filmic discourse and, in fact, he will what he can to sustain that persona. He characterizes Valentino “a man who was a great lover, not a great philosopher. I didn’t to hear philosophy. I wanted to know about the desert at night, ride of the four horsemen, the posture of the tango”. Would too far-fetched at this point to suggest that Facundo’s fascination with Valentino is not unlike the mood of the public during 1920s-xenophobic and hedonistic, wishing to immerse itself in tasy in order to forget the horrors of World War I and ignore creasing unrest in postwar Europe? As noted above, Sapia’s novel contains many significant events that are “mirrored” or replicated at other chronological moments the narrative. One of the most interesting is related to Facundo Valentino at their first encounter. While the young barber cuts hair, Valentino tells Facundo of a bizarre incident that occurred hotel in California: an elderly woman sent to give him a manicure dropped dead just from looking upon him; Valentino had unleashed a sexual power that he couldn’t control. And although Valentino’s role in the death is covered up with the co-operation of the management and he is never publicly implicated, he must continue to live with the knowledge that he caused the woman’s death. do’s reaction is recounted years later to his son: Lupe, I was suddenly caught between laughing and crying. The poor man had a power he couldn’t control, and here I was absolving him his sin, listening to his confession like a priest in my white smock. now he was to do penance, he was to give something up to me. would raise my chalice of shaving cream and lift my silver razor to light and strip away Facundo’s reaction is revealing on a number of levels. First, sumes a position of power, likening himself to a priest hearing fession in a sort of spiritual transaction that sanctions his something from the penitent. This is a clever way of rationalizing later actions, the taking of the hair and the fashioning of the clippings into a love potion. Secondly, it foreshadows the later scene at the pital in which Nieves will again feel himself placed by Valentino the position of a priest administering a sacrament, this time the rites. But most importantly, Valentino’s confession to Facundo repeated by Facundo and Lupe, just as Nieves, like Valentino, find himself unleashing a sexual power he cannot control, resulting in a woman’s death. And, as in the first episode, the involvement the man responsible for the death will again be covered up, an which will torment him until he is able to confess. Like the mirrors in the book, the profession of the barber takes on many meanings and is crucial to Facundo’s sense of self and to the decisions he makes. The barber, with his razor so close to the skin, cannot afford a careless moment. However, when the barber does his job well, he becomes a type of physician or healer, making his patient feel better: “I was a kind of doctor. What I did helped people ride a stream to slow recovery, to arrive on the shore of something new, something which was hidden from sight. A secret place. A secret person”. Notice that again, we have a duality characteristic of Sapia’s narrative technique: if the mirrors are represented as devices which may reveal that dark side which is hidden within all of us, Facundo’s comments suggest that the barber’s ministrations bring to the surface that which is good but hidden within the individual. But if the barber is a kind of physician, he is also a kind of priest. Like a priest, Facundo listens to the confessions of his clients and grants them absolution. As already noted, Valentino confesses to Facundo twice. Moreover, the doctor and priest roles are combined when Facundo visits Valentino at the hospital. He is mistaken for a doctor and allowed admittance to Valentino’s room, where the dying movie star asks him for a shave that they both sense will be his last. Facundo is frightened and, in a comment that prefigures the macabre events to follow, recalls, “I had never shaved a dead man [before]”. The barber has become doctor, priest and mortician, and al- though the experience initially frightens Nieves, over time it gives him a sense of power and privilege that emboldens him to use Valentino’s hair for his own ends: I was the man who cut Valentino’s hair and learned of its power. I was the man who had shaved Valentino in his last hours. I knew him in a way no one else on that street knew him. And Valentino had trusted me with the last hours of his life. When the end came for him, he alone except for his three doctors and two nurses. He had lost con- sciousness sometime after I saw him, and the doctors had called in priest to give him the last rites. He was a priest from Valentino’s little town in Italy. Yet the truth is he had already received his last rites; had received the rites from me. Finally, the barbering metaphor establishes a tension that Sapia exploit: barbering is extremely pleasurable and sensual yet it potentially harmful if not done properly: these two extremes are arated only by the edge of a razor, and that boundary is crossed tragic ending to the novel which takes place, not coincidentally, barbershop. Facundo’s fantasy encounter suddenly becomes grotesque episode of necrophilia and self-mutilation. In her essay “Pleasure, Ambivalence, Identification: Valentino Female Spectatorship,” Miriam Hansen has noted that Valentino often viewed by biographers and cultural critics as embodying ongoing crisis of American cultural and social values” triggered World War 1. In particular, Hansen emphasizes the crisis gender relations in the United States that arose as large numbers women entered the work force and as they became increasingly portant players in a consumer economy. Thus, Hansen continues, Valentino emerges within the fractured cultural terrain created struggle between “traditional patriarchal ideology on the one and the recognition of female experience, needs and fantasies other, albeit for purposes of immediate commercial exploitation eventual containment”. Not only does Valentino, in a sense, into being as a cultural phenomenon because of these contradictory forces, but he comes to embody them or rather embody their product (the change in gender relations) to such a degree that he becomes flashpoint for opposing sides on that issue. Few popular icons polarized the men and women comprising white society to the that Valentino did. With a consistency that is nothing less than ishing, Valentino aroused contempt from men, while women whelmingly adored him. Studlar cites the notorious Chicago Tribune editorial (the so-called Pink Powder Puff attack) published month prior to Valentino’s death as emblematic of the “vitriolic mensions” of the male discourse on Valentino in the 1920s. Do women like the type of “man” who pats pink powder on his face a public washroom and arranges his coiffure in a public elevator?…a strange social phenomenon and one that is running its course not only here in America but in Europe as well. Chicago powder puffs; London has its dancing men and Paris its gigolos. with Decatur; up with Elinor Glyn. Hollywood is the national school of masculinity. Rudy, the beautiful gardener’s boy, is the prototype the American male. Hell’s bells and if the editorial and its subsequent notoriety suggest the to which American men believed Valentino represented a dangerous erosion of traditional ideals of masculinity and subsequent male power, the riots by distraught fans at his New York funeral, mostly women, as well as the scorn with which the New York Times ported their mourning, gives an even more dramatic sense of vision between male and female responses to Valentino in post-America. In order to understand this polarized, reaction to Valentino, it is useful to recall, as Hansen does, predominance of sadomasochistic scenarios in Valentino which the star is dominated by other men and women as often dominates the female love interest in the film’s narrative. Hansen also notes the “systematic feminization of his persona” through the use of exotic costumes and mise-en-scene, as well as by casting him within the film’s narrative as a performer. The outward response of a male audience to these conventions is probably not surprising. As Hansen remarks, “The vulnerability Valentino displays in his films, the traces of feminine masochism in his persona, may partly account for the threat he posed to prevalent standards of masculinity”. Conversely, Hansen speculates that: However complicit and recuperable in the long run, the Valentino films articulated the possibility of female desire outside of mother- hood and family, absolving it from Victorian double standards; instead they offered a morality of passion, an ideal of erotic reciprocity. In focusing pleasure on a male protagonist of ambiguous and deviant identity, he appealed to those who most strongly felt the effects-free- dom as well as frustration-of transition and liminality, the precari- ousness of a social mobility predicated on consumerist ideology. But the case of Valentino as cultural marker is of course more complicated than mere sexual politics; there is also his ethnicity or “racial difference” to consider. Hollywood dealt with Valentino’s otherness in filmic texts by consistently casting him in exotic, costumed dramas which, as already noted, exacerbated the perception among white American men that he was effeminate, yet both reactions turn on the intersection of race and gender and suggest the degree to which the dominant culture was both fascinated and threatened by the sexuality of non-white men. The romantic/sexual union of the characters Valentino played and the white female leads in his films could place only within the confines of the exotic and the ahistorical, tings which paradoxically emphasized and sanitized his otherness. Indeed, the very term Latin Lover-which Valentino is thought personify-is a distillation of this paradox, invoking myths sexual appetite and prowess of non-white men, while giving its ject a generic marker of classical connotation that keeps such overdetermined sexuality at a safe distance. Such strategies of containment become less surprising when one recalls that Valentino reached peak of his popularity during one of the most xenophobic periods U.S. history. But as white male reaction against Valentino intensified, the film industry found such strategies were no longer enough. sponded by attempting to create a new Valentino myth, that immigrant from humble origins who, through hard work, reaches pinnacle of success in the Melting Pot. As Studlar comments, this fort to “mainstream” Valentino was to a large extent offset by publicity imagery that visually insisted on capitalizing on eroticism unveiled”. The outcome of this conflict between peting racial and sexual ideologies was predictable, if bizarre: Holly- wood churned out a spate of copycat films about Latin Lovers, this time played by Anglo actors like Douglas Fairbanks, Ronald man and John Barrymore . And as the Latin Lover were co-opted by Anglo actors, “the assignment of pejorative nine and racist traits to Valentino intensified”. To summarize, the response to Valentino on the part of white was so hostile because not only did his persona represent a departure from traditional WASP norms of masculinity, it also engaged about sexual relations between non-white men and white women. Hollywood attempted to ameliorate those fears by a discourse of ex- oticism that made such taboo relationships safe, just as the term Latin Lover precisely connotes such forbidden love made safe by the exot- ic as much as it suggests the fusion of masculine domination with courtly manners. As Valentino’s popularity with white female moviegoers increased, so did the level of hostility toward him from white men. In the context of Sapia’s novel, it is significant that is, like Valentino, a non-Anglo immigrant to the United unlike the majority of Anglo men, an avid fan of Valentino. suggested earlier, Facundo’s possession of Valentino’s hair allows him to possess some of the star’s power over women locks him into repeating the star’s misfortunes, we can that argument with the observation that Sapia portrays traction for a white woman as a socially prohibited one, due to the same attitudes that created such animosity toward Valentino. Signifi- cantly, it is the fear of such animosity and racist reprisals that lie be- hind the decision to cover up the circumstances of the woman’s death. And there is another bizarre coincidence between the fates of Facundo and Valentino: the outpouring of grief by Valentino’s fans after his death and especially their attempt to glimpse and touch the star’s corpse as it lay in state is, as Hansen suggests, a figurative kind of necrophilia: The cult of Valentino’s body finally extended to his corpse and led to the notorious necrophilic excesses: Valentino’s last will specifying that his body be exhibited to his fans provided a fetishistic run for buttons of his suit, or at least candles and flowers from the funeral home. Significantly, it is within such an environment that Facundo meets the woman with whom he will literally engage in necrophilic excess; the hysterics at Valentino’s funeral are a figurative kind of necrophilia that mirror Facundo’s literal practice of it. And, Valentino’s funeral, as dramatized in the novel, is important for another reason as well. His body is guarded by Mussolini’s Italian fascists, foreshadow- ing the consequences of American isolationism and racism, just as the rioting and chaos of the funeral crowd foreshadows the violence and chaos of the war to follow. It is extremely ironic that Valentino, who rose to fame as a figure who could be used interchangeably in a variety of ethnic roles, would be guarded by fascist soldiers committed to a philosophy of ethnic purity. Sapia skillfully represents Valentino as a cultural icon that stands in ironic opposition to the fascist ideas of ethnic purity that are gaining currency in Europe and in some quarters of the United States. It is through such skillful use of historical context that Sapia enables Facundo’s story to operate as not just a modern fairy tale with a familiar theme, but as a critique of racist and sexist ideologies during a specific period of U.S. history. Another issue needs to be explored here, namely, Facundo’s fatal seduction of the young, unnamed woman and his willingness to cover up his role in her death. Although Facundo realizes he is responsible for her death and initially wants to tell the police what happened, he is persuaded by Mangual that given the racial climate, to do so would be to ensure his own eventual execution. As Mangual puts it: You are a Puerto Rican, Nieves. You are not welcome in Nueva York. You are an outsider. In the eyes of the Americans you just killed an American white woman, a white woman they would tell you, you never should have been with. What do you think they will do to you? They’ll say you lured her here, Nieves. They’ll say you sexually attacked her her. They’ll say you murdered her. …You feel guilty, of course. don’t blame you, Nieves. But look what they do to immigrants, to foreigners like us. For Christ’s sake, look what’s happened to those two Italians, Sacco and Vanzetti. Take it from me, hombre, they’re two men. And you will be too. They’ll crucify you, Nieves, and they’ll your balls off and shove them down your throat to make sure you dead. This argument is a bit slippery. While the white society of the racist and very probably would react as Mangual suggests (as the erence to Sacco and Vanzetti reminds us), such a position glosses over the fact that Nieves did lure the woman to his barbershop, drug her for the purpose of taking advantage of her, did sexually tack her and did cause her death. Nor does Sapia ever provide dence to suggest that racist sexual taboos were behind the woman’s lack of interest in Nieves. Consider also, that even after this tragedy, Nieves continues to use the talisman, seducing at least two women with it. He admits to his eldest child, Barbara, that he “magic” to cause his second wife to marry him and it is intimated that years later, shortly before his death, he uses the hair to obtain wife for his friend Pancho. Yet, despite attempts to rationalize tify his crime and attempts to use the talisman benevolently, do’s role in the woman’s death and his continued use of the talisman for personal gain clearly haunt him. Ultimately he is compelled by guilt to give an accounting of his actions. Significantly, the catalyst for Facundo’s confession is Valentino himself. After watching one of Valentino’s movies on the late late show, Nieves suffers a seizure and slips into a coma, during which time he mysteriously confesses his actions and his culpability to his son. The importance of this act is clear, as Facundo dies just moments after completing the confession, the final words of which suggest that he is now at peace: “Now, my boy, good-bye, good-bye. There’s a little boat waiting for me. I hear the dew falling in the rain forest. I hear voices echoing in the dark cool coves. The earth smells like a good place. Recuerdame, Lupe. After Facundo’s death, Lupe buries the last remnants of Valentino’s hair with his father in a gesture that suggests that al- though the father and son may be one, as Facundo was fond of saying, the son is not destined to repeat the mistakes of the father. Moreover, Sapia represents the idea that no one is beyond redemption. Nevertheless, there is something about this tidy ending which rings a bit hollow. To uncover the source of this dissatisfaction, I believe it is necessary to consider Lupe’s story in relation to his father’s. Significantly, most of the scenes in which Lupe is present have to do with his coming of age. He witnesses the tragic deaths of neighbors in a fire and learns that unrequited love can drive men to kill them- selves. He witnesses the unhappiness of immediate family members: his mother, who is saddened to tears by the loss of her youthful beauty; the fear of motherhood of his young, pregnant aunt Miriam, whose boyfriend has left her; and the cynicism of his grandmother Sofia, whose children have died at young ages. And he learns that his father and uncle were thrown out of their parents’ house when they came of age. However, although Lupe empathizes with his relatives, their experiences do not make him timid or fearful. Instead he draws strength from their experiences. All of this is made possible because Lupe remains firmly grounded in his Puerto Rican community. Yet, this insularity is precisely the element that causes the ending of the novel to appear overly optimistic. Lupe’s experiences have all taken place within the confines of that tightly-knit Puerto Rican communi- ty and he has been completely sheltered from any contact with the world outside of it. Early in the novel, Sapia addresses Lupe’s sheltered upbringing in an intriguing scene in which his stepsister Barbara refers to him as “colored,” a term that puzzles Lupe. To him, Barbara’s whiteskinned, rosy cheeked daughter is more colored than he is. However, after this childhood incident, Lupe does not have any more interaction with anyone from outside of his community. It is this lack of attention to relations between Puerto Ricans and other ethnic groups in Lupe’s narrative that leaves the reader with some reservations regarding Sapia’s suggestion that Lupe will not re- peat his father’s mistakes. Moreover, given the skillful treatment of race relations in Facundo’s narrative, the lack of attention to interracial issues in Lupe’s story stands out as a noticeable oversight. While the depiction of the Puerto Rican community as a source of strength, comfort and knowledge for Lupe is powerful and moving, his isola- tion from the outside world is disturbingly similar to the xenophobia that Sapia critiques so well elsewhere in the novel.
Oct 1923 – What do you think?
29 Sep – Silent Movie Day Rudolph Valentino Movies
What does this day have in common with Rudolph Valentino? According to the official Silent Movie Day website “Silent Movie Day is an annual celebration of silent movies, a vastly misunderstood and neglected cinematic art form”. We celebrate Valentino’s life annually and of course his life has been both publicly and personally misunderstood and his movies have been neglected by the cinema community. When I try to speak with anyone about my interest in silent films, I see a disinterested look on their face. Immediately I feel like why waste time speaking with someone who doesn’t understand a cinematic artform that is the very cradle of the Hollywood movie industry. But for those rare few who mutually agree, there is something special and mysterious about Silent Films it’s wonderful to have these meaningful conversations that are both enlightening and rewarding. Sometimes, I feel unless one lives in the L.A. area to celebrate what is left of Hollywood history by attending cinematic events or exhibits, they are left out and I do agree with this. For example, when the unfortunate pandemic hit the world a few years ago, everyone had to adjust the way things were ran. Virtual events were available everywhere, and I felt blessed to be able to see Silent Film festivals online. Nowadays they are no longer available and trying to find out about new virtual events is hard. Recently I posted a question in a silent film related social media group innocently asking about “where could I go to see what silent film events are online” my question was both deleted, and I am no longer a member of this group. Now am I offended? No, it doesn’t because there is such a decent lack in humanity these days and I see this in the real and virtual worlds. I often think how Valentino must of felt in his professional and personal life when things didn’t exactly turn out how they might. Sometimes we have no choice but to live and let live. Letting go and moving on are indeed the best route to take. For this special day, Silent Films are a joy to watch, and the beauty is in the acting and movie plots. Take a moment and enjoy a Rudolph Valentino movie.
25 Sep 1926 – Diseuse a la Francasise
Mlle Damia, a friend of Rudolph Valentino’s and a diseuse from Paris, made her American debut at the Forty-Ninth Street Theatre yesterday afternoon in a private recital of songs chiefly on tragic themes. In a brief introduction, Henry E. Dixey commented upon Mlle. Damia’s skill in a pantomime and, obviously referring to Raquel Meller, asked the audience to receive her on her own terms. However, fair that request may be, one can hardly report Mlle without comparing her to la Meller, whose art, technically, hers resembles so closely. Like Meller she appears alone before a black drop curtain and sings dramatic poems, accompanied by a string orchestra. In appearance Mlle Damia is less exotic; and her art is emotional rather than strangely vibrant. For ten years of so Mlle Damia has been appearing as a “lyric tragedienne” on Paris stages as one number in a program. Obviously, that is the most practical way to present her, the first half of the program yesterday afternoon, consisting of rather turgidly emotional songs, did not express the most attractive qualities of her pantomimic abilities. Although an undercurrent of tragedy ran through the second half of the program, the songs were lighter and better contrasted. Singing the colorful “La Femme a la Rose,” Mlle Damia was particularly pungent in her expression of character. In “La Supplane,” a war mother hunting her for her sons grave, she communicated admirably the pathos and agony of so tragic a figure. “La Fanchette” represented her a s a sailor who has determined to murder his unfaithful mistress; in this song Mlle. Damia was graphically pictorial. Her most spirited number was the rather macabre “Les Deux Menetriers,” written by Jean Richepin; Mlle Damia described it perfectly. Unfortunately, we in America have little of the pantomimic tradition in our stage life; and, no doubt, few of the qualities of judgment necessary to appreciative reception. Like chamber music, it is for those who catch the overtones and the nuances. Mlle Damias art has fullness. Beyond the symmetry of gestures and the plasticity of facial expression there is a firm solidity. If she lacks the versatility of a virtuoso, she is nevertheless thorough; and if she is not capricious, she is frank and profound. Our revue stage would profit by a regular expression of her art. Contrasted with more usual and blatant numbers of the familiar revue, Mlle Damia’s art would emerge as a pleasing expression of quality.
Sep 1923 – The Reason Why, Pictures & Picturegoer Magazine
This is not an answer to the question “why do girls leave home,” but an attempt to analyse Rudolph Valentino, the screen’s most popular lover. This London interview with the beloved Rudolph gives you an unconventional pen-picture of the man whose charm has been described as “irresistible” by feminine picturegoers all the world over. Once upon a time there was a man named Job who had a pretty rough passage through this vale of tears. Job, as you remember, was a patient man. Sarcastic women will tell you that he is the _only_ patient man in the history of the world. I disagree. In my time I have met a large number of patient men, but without any hesitation I award the palm of patience to a man I met to-day. His name is Rudolph Valentino.When a celebrity comes to London, journalists foregather in his vicinity like flies round a honeypot. If he is good “copy,” he has to stand and deliver. There is no escape. Clever people can dodge bloodhounds and it is possible to deceive a police officer; but the copy-hound will get you every time. In a reception room on the first floor at the Carlton I found Rudolph Valentino entirely surrounded by copy-hounds. I recognised the old familiar bark: “And what do you think of England and the English people?” before the door opened to admit me into the presence of the man who rules the raves. A moment later I was shaking hands with a dark man of strikingly handsome aspect, who wore a magnificent dressing-gown over purple pyjamas, and sported rings on his fingers and red Russian-leather slippers on his toes. There is no denying that the man is devilish good looking, but if he carries the conceit that usually goes with good looks he dissembles very cleverly. For he is quiet and shy and sensible with not so much as a ha’porth of side about him. Also, as you shall learn hereafter, he is about the most patient thing that ever happened. For three days and three nights life for Valentino had been one question after another. Yet when I met him on the fourth day of his visit he was as bland and smiling as the man who says, “Yes, we have no bananas.” But the burden of Rudolph’s song was, “No, I can’t tell you anything about London. I haven’t seen it yet.”Then where _have_ you been?” I inquired. “Here,” said Rudolph Valentino. “Here in this hotel answering questions. And the telephone. And letters. I’ve had to engage a secretary to look after the correspondence. See that pile there? Girls write and say: “Please may I see you and bring your mother and father. Now what.”Ting-a-ling! He hasn’t had a minute’s peace, said Personal Representative Robert Florey, a very tall and very polite young Frenchman. “He came here for a holiday, and “Of course I am delighted with all your kindness, ” said Rudolph Valentino, returning from the ‘phone. “It is splendid of you to give such a reception to a foreigner. Now if only.”A new journalist stepped into the room, crossed the floor and fixed Rudolph with a glittering eye. “Tell me,”said he, “what do you think of London? And do you like the English girls?” Rudolph Valentino still smiled. “Yes, I am on a holiday,” he told me when we got together again five minutes later. “A few days in London, then Paris, and then a motor trip to Nice. Afterwards I am going to my home after an absence of ten years. It will be.”Ting-a-ling! Rudolph Valentino lifted the telephone receiver with one hand and held out the other to the latest visitant from the Street of Ink. “Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Valentino,” said the new arrival. “How do you like London, and what do you think of the English people?” Some minutes afterwards I got Rudolph into a corner and asked him to autograph some pictures for me. I noticed that he signed himself Rudolph Valentino. I suppose he ought to know, but most people spell it Rodolph or Rodolf these days.”I owe my introduction to the movies to Norman Kerry,” he told me. “We shared a flat together during my dancing days. He taught me a lot about America, and it was on his advice that I tried for a film engagement. At first, I played a number of minor roles. One of my early pictures was “Out of Luck” with Dorothy Gish, but I was not at home in comedy. Being a distinct Latin type I did not shine in American roles, and I did not get a real chance until “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.” As Julio I “Excuse me, Mr. Valentino,” broke in Robert Florey at this juncture. “This gentleman from the ‘Weekly Guzzle’ would like to meet you. “How are you, Mr. Valentino?” said the gentleman from the “Weekly Guzzle.” “I suppose you will be settling down in London by now. How do you like it and what do you think of the English people?” Sometime afterwards Valentino told me: “I was in New York when I received a telegram from Rex Ingram and June Mathis asking if I would go to Hollywood to play the part of Julio Desnoyers in “The Four Horsemen.” I telegraphed an acceptance and set out for the Coast at once. It was June Mathis, the scenarist who recommended me for the role, and the telegram was the turning point in my career. I worked very hard because I made up my mind to succeed now that my chance had come. Apart from my acting I helped Mr. Ingram to direct the big crowd scenes and I coached the crowds in the tango palace episodes. I tried “Ting-a-ling! After the interval, I tried to get Valentino to talk about the ladies. The man who has fluttered more feminine hearts than any hero of the age should be worth listening to on this subject. But all he would tell me was: “A woman is always a woman, whether she wears a straw skirt or a Paquin gown.” Maybe that is why Rudolph is loved by the ladies from Kew to Khatmandu. The screen’s most perfect lover understands feminine psychology. In between telephone calls and visitations, Rudolph told me something of his early career. When he arrived in New York at the age of eighteen, he could speak very little English and for some time he had a very rough passage as a stranger in a strange land. His first job in America was as a landscape gardener, but it didn’t last long enough to yield him any tangible benefit. So being something of a tango expert he set out to make a living as a professional dancer. He made a living all right, but there was nothing luxurious about it. Indeed, for many months Rudolph was perilously near starvation on more than one occasion. After dancing his way along the road to fame without getting any appreciably nearer to his goal, Rodolph started again as an actor. This time he travelled some distance, –all the way to Salt Lake City with a touring company in fact–but the show went bust, and, with it, Rudolph’s hopes. In 1917 played his first speaking part, when he appeared with Richard Dix in a play called “Nobody Home.” Still success refused to smile upon him, and after trying in vain to enlist in the Italian, Canadian and British armies, Rudolph began to think that fortune had a grudge against him. There followed a period of hard-luck days before Rudolph took his first chance with the movies. Some of his earlier picture efforts were “The Married Virgin,” “The Delicious Little Devil” (with Mae Murray), “Eyes of Youth” (with Clara Kembill-Young), “Ambition” (with Dorothy Phillips) and “The Cheater” (with May Allison). Most of all, Rudolph Valentino hates to be looked upon as a lounge lizard type of man. He is debonair to a degree, but there is nothing effeminate about him. Amongst other things he is a skilled horseman and is looking forward to hunting in this country later in the year. The above brief sketch of Rudolph’s career will show you that he has known a good deal of the seamy side of life. Although he made a record jump from the bottom of Fame’s ladder, the success he enjoys to-day is by way of compensation for his sufferings of yesterday. Most people, when their luck changes so rapidly, put on airs and lose their mental balance. People who have known Rudolph from the beginning of his screen career assert that he hasn’t changed at all, which is a pretty high tribute to his strength of character. Wherein lies the secret of Rudolph’s wonderful power over the hearts of film fans. I have but put the question to a number of feminine friends and all returned different answers. “He looks so _thoroughly_ wicked,” one told me. “He is so adorably handsome,” said another. “He is a wonderful actor, and that’s why,” explained a third, whilst a fourth murmured mysteriously: “It’s his eyes!” Rudolph’s eyes are of very dark brown, and his raven hair fairly gleams in the light. His complexion is swarthy, and he has a well-knit frame suggestive of strength. He speaks in a very quiet musical voice with very little trace of a foreign accent. He is neither voluble nor given to gesture, and during the time I was with him he betrayed no traces of excitement. The ‘phone bell rang with steady persistency every other minute, and eager interviewers filed in and out to ask him what he thought of London. But Rudolph came through it all with a smiling face. His patience seemed inexhaustible. Rudolph Valentino hopes to be back in movie harness again by the autumn when his legal battles will be settled. Rudolph is out to raise the standard of the movies for he holds that screen art is being ruined by commercialism at the present time. “The right to strike” applies to screen stars in Valentino’s opinion, and so he struck. He gave me a scathing denunciation of the methods of American moviemakers. “There is graft all the way through,” said Rudolph, “and it is graft that helps to destroy artistic effect. Here’s just one example the art or technical director in the production of a photoplay selects the costumes, settings and the properties, which is to say, he creates the atmosphere for the picture. A scene, for example, which calls for a Louis XVI setting demands furniture and other decorations of that period. Selecting and arranging these articles is the work of the art director. These properties are rented from firms who make a specialty of that business. “Now producing companies’ managers frequently form a combination with these rental firms, which work out in this way when a picture is made. The technical directors are given a list of stores from which they are compelled to make their art selections, regardless of whether the proper goods are obtainable in them. If a Louis XVI setting is desired, perhaps one couch or chair of that particular period can be found in the favoured stores. Selections cannot be made from firms other than those on the list and manufacture of them is out of the question, because of the cost. The art directors go to the manager in dismay, and he says, “Use anything, what does the public know about it?” Their alibi is always that the public cannot tell the difference anyway. The secret is that the listed stores charge the producers double rental prices, one-half of which goes to the grafting manager. “If a rug of particular pattern could be rented at a store not on the list for twenty dollars, a rug of much less value to the picture would have to be selected at a listed store for fifty dollars, the difference going to graft. There is no freedom anywhere. The men who head the different departments under the art director, such as the electricians, carpenters, etc., all artists in their line, are frequently replaced by others with no qualifications, but who are friends of the manager, his wife’s brother, or his cousin Willie, and so on. “At this juncture Valentino was called away to the telephone again, and I prepared to take my leave. “I’m sorry we were interrupted so often,” he told me at parting. “We must meet again for a quiet chat. Don’t forget to tell the English picturegoers how grateful I am to them for their reception of myself. “On my way down the stairs I met a man who looked uncommonly like a journalist. “Is that Mr. Valentino’s room?” he asked. I acquiesced and stood for a moment whilst the inquirer vanished through the doorway. In that moment I heard a mellow voice beginning: “tell me, what do you think of London, like Pontius Pilate, I paused not for the answer. I knew it already. Also, I know that I am backing Rudolph Valentino for the Patience Stakes. I reckon he can give Job a couple of stone and lose him over any distance.










































































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