by C McGivern
It fell to Pilar to be the more realistic of the two and she decided to have the pregnancy terminated. “Pilar, you have to do what you think best. Whatever you decide I’ll stand by you. If you want to have the baby, that’s OK. I’ll take my chances as far as my career is concerned, you don’t have to worry about that. The only thing that matters is that I don’t lose you.” He made all the right noises, said everything she wanted to hear, but the fact was he was also scared, worried about the morality clauses he had signed and flaunted before. Pilar, sensing the fear chose not to risk his happiness. Even then she understood that whilst he undoubtedly loved her, he loved working more and that because of the characters he chose to play the public continued to confuse his screen persona with his private identity. People would not be forgiving if he let them down and if they dropped him his happiness would be lost forever.
In the end, she did what she thought best for him, but then, for a long time after, turned against him, blaming him for the decision she had taken. She could hardly bear to look at him. Duke, of course, hardly needed anyone else to make him feel guilty, he didn’t need her to blame him, and no one was ever as good as he was himself at guilt and blame. He was perfectly well able to torture himself. He wanted to comfort her; he could do nothing except hope and wait.
Not long after the abortion, as the Christmas holiday approached, Pilar agreed to sign a contract with Wayne-Fellows so she could obtain a permit to remain in the US. It was a time to forgive and forget, a time when Duke made new promises. As always at Christmas he was transformed into an excited boy, a star who loved shopping for gifts for friends and family, a capable organizer of family get-togethers. He wanted his family to meet Pilar and she was introduced first to his mother. Things went unexpectedly well, with none of the usual arguments and stress that so often accompanied Molly’s visits. Pilar made it easy for him to escape his life’s greatest discomfort, she eased the tension around him, got on easily with Molly and gave him some welcome relief at long last. It was important that all his family liked her but Duke had no high hopes where his children were concerned, “Don’t expect too much of them at first, they haven’t forgiven me yet,” he warned. She made a special effort to get on with them and was well rewarded when he told her she had given him the best Christmas present that he could have had, “For the first time in years I feel like I have a real home.” She could hardly believe what he was saying and realized how little it took to please this superstar.
Her present to Duke that first year was the Christmas he longed for; she even offered to cook the dinner herself. On Christmas morning he found her washing the turkey in a bowl of detergent. When she told the helpless Duke she was carrying out the instructions to, “Wash the bird,” he laughed until he cried. She had never cooked before but luckily he was skilled in the kitchen and together they managed to prepare a reasonable meal. Things could get no better for him, the day represented normality and he never forgot the first time he shared an ordinary Christmas with someone he loved.
Pilar already understood his needs and was willing to administer to them and he now became dependent on her for his every comfort. She offered him the things he most needed and provided some of the stability that he craved. Fortunately she also understood his obsession, made no demands on his time and allowed him to move freely between the movie world, and her world, the peaceful home life that he had yearned for. It was no easy task, and demanded much of her; he knew it and loved her for it. He became accustomed to the love and freedom she gave, and to the care she provided.
In 1952 his body of work represented a lifetime. He had grown before the cameras of the best, from a boy into a young man, into a mature, father figure, even into old age and death; the combined effect showed him to good advantage. Pilar knew nothing of his films and now demanded to see them. He was happy to screen them just for her, “I’ve lived a long time without you, this is one way you can catch up.” They showed her his past and allowed her into his life in exactly the same way they permitted his audience to share his reality. Now, as he played them, he told her stories about the making of each and about the people who had inhabited them with him.
The first movie they watched together was The Quiet Man, one of his favorites. She sat in wonder, holding the man tightly, afraid to let him go. She had told him when they first met that she didn’t like westerns, so he had chosen to show her one of his most powerful love stories first, but he teased her that from now on she would have to get used to shoot‘em ups, “Because I make an awful lot of them.” She watched his face, deep in concentration, as he ran his work for her approval. Even as he looked at himself on the screen with her there holding his hand, he was still carefully studying his performance, approving the things he had done well, hating his mistakes, constantly learning, analyzing, dissecting, trying to understand why one thing worked and another didn’t. His complete professionalism was demonstrated clearly and left her in no doubt where his heart lay.
At the time he was still going to Hollywood ceremonies alone. He wouldn’t go with his wife and he couldn’t take Pilar. Night after night he went off, dressed up, looking fantastic, and returned later staggering-drunk. On one occasion he came back with lipstick on his cheek. Pilar, like others before her, jumped to the conclusion that he had been seeing someone else. Although he was furious in his denial she refused to speak to him for several days and returned the gifts he bombarded her with. Eventually, even though he was in the middle of his divorce and knew it was unsafe, he called at her apartment, “You’re wrong, nothing happened, it was just someone who kissed me in congratulation. You’re just going to have to trust me… the last days have been hell for me Pilar. I just want you back… please don’t do this to me. I’ve already been through this so often, I don’t think I can take it again.” He was back in the old routine, begging for forgiveness for something he hadn’t done.
And meanwhile Chata continued doing everything she could to humiliate him as the divorce loomed closer. The studio thought he would be safer out of town and he was shipped off to a desolate location to start shooting Hondo. They kept him there, out of harm’s way for much of 1953. He wasn’t permitted to take Pilar with him and he missed her badly. He did wonder though if his long absence might make her heart grow fonder, whether it would help her realize that she could take him at his word. He wanted to call her and get her to come out to join him but for many months his every step had been tailed by two private investigators who were working for Chata. They had followed him to Mexico, where they kept him under close surveillance. They were disappointed not to catch him with Pilar who had been sent back to Peru. Duke spoke to her on the phone every day, but even then great care was taken and he always used an assumed name. Subterfuge didn’t suit him and he was like a bear with a sore head on location; he hated creeping around, and hated Chata for putting him through such anguish.
Duke was a huge and immensely popular star in Mexico. He returned there again and again to produce much of his best work. When local officials found out how upset he was about being followed around by the detectives they asked him if he wanted them to take care of things! Duke laughed, but rejected the offer. Still when the two men, who spoke no Spanish, wired the telephone of the governor of the province by mistake, thinking it was Duke’s room, they were both thrown in jail. Whilst he had certainly not wanted them “taken care of,” he was happy enough to let them languish in the local jail. He got some peace for a few days until he heard one of the detectives had appendicitis and had received no treatment.
Ward Bond, also on location, advised, “Let ‘em rot.” But when the detectives appealed to him personally he raced to the rescue, “The guy’s sick… I can’t just leave him… besides they were just doing their job.” He paid their fines, had them both released and even paid their return air fares, “I was willing to return good for evil.” Bond mused, “With those tactics I can just imagine what a bloody mess this trial’s going to be.”
Lonely Duke, away on loc
ation, was moodier than usual, increasingly miserable, grouchy and difficult for the cast and crew members to get on with. He tried to became engrossed in the business of making a movie but found it difficult. He complained bitterly about director John Farrow, saying the film became a Wayne-Fellows production because of his incompetence, “Farrow really didn’t have a lot to do with it. We had set everything up before he arrived. He proved to me that he shouldn’t be put in a producer-director position. That’s only my opinion, and others might consider him a fine director. I had found all the locations for each scene, the story had already been written, and I’m not saying whether or not he was involved in camera set-ups or even directing the actors.” Duke, already under pressure, found he had to deal with many tedious technical difficulties because of Farrow’s short comings.
For some years Hollywood had been suffering a decline, partly due to the advent of TV, and of all the great stars, only he remained immune. Warner Brothers pointed out that there was nothing wrong with Hollywood that a dozen John Wayne’s couldn’t have fixed. His films were still guaranteed earners and all the major studios either concentrated on him, or came up with gimmicky ideas to draw people back to the cinema. One of the gimmicks they turned to was 3D, and even Duke decided to try it on Hondo. Despite his pulling power and his track record he never took success for granted. He was innovative and determined to hold onto his place, and if gimmicks were the way forward, he had to be on the front line, fighting with everything at his disposal.
Filming in 3D was difficult and required many more retakes than normal, delays tended to be longer and equipment often broke down. Already on edge, disliking the director, separated from Pilar, a messy divorce looming, Duke remained irritable and Warner Bros, kept pestering him to return one of their cameras. He wrote many bitter letters to the studio which was threatening him with breach of contract, and finally, in desperation, he snapped, “Perhaps the ten-picture deal we made isn’t going to work. If you don’t want to co-operate just call me back and cancel our relationship - I’m goddamned mad enough to.” They allowed him to keep both cameras.
And if all the stress he was under was not enough, he also hated working with co-star, Geraldine Page. Duke who was unfailingly polite and renowned for his gentleness and generosity with leading ladies, couldn’t stand her. He had originally cast her for the part himself, offering the successful stage actress the role over the phone, without a screen test. The script demanded someone attractive but he didn’t want a sexy starlet to play the part of the woman abandoned in the desert by her husband. When she arrived in Hollywood, Duke’s partner, Robert Fellows, saw her first and winced! She had terrible teeth and looked as if she had never heard of toothpaste. Her ugly smile might be covered up on stage but would be hideously emphasized on the big screen. When Duke finally met her he panicked at the thought of what the 3D camera would do to her and he packed her straight off to the dentist.
Working opposite her did nothing to soften his mood and everyone suffered as a result. It was unbearably hot in Mexico, he was uncomfortable, he had technical problems, the set had none of the usual family atmosphere about it, he was repeatedly called back to Hollywood to appear in court, and he needed Pilar.
It didn’t take much of Page to drive him completely over the edge. Once filming got under way the fastidious Duke discovered the reason her teeth were rotten was a non-existent program of personal hygiene. Mary St John said it was even possible to smell her around the set, “Do you want to know how bad she smelled? Page did not have the best morals in the world, and hard-up stunt men were seen stumbling out of her room every morning, but even Ward Bond wouldn’t take advantage of her availability. That’s how bad she smelled.”
Her table manners matched everything else about her and disgusted Duke. One evening, as she sat eating mashed potatoes with her fingers, he stood up and tipped his own dinner over her head before storming away in a fit of temper. He said later, “And, I wasn’t sorry.” He certainly made no effort to apologize. The script required him to perform several love scenes with her and he confessed to Ward Bond, “Jesus Christ, I’m afraid I might puke the next time I have to kiss her. Maybe if I hold my breath it won’t be so bad.”
Duke may not have liked Geraldine Page, but as was so often the case, she was completely charmed by him. “He is a fantastic, fantastic man. He’s an enormous man. I have never encountered another man quite as big, rugged, strong, loud, critical, mean, short-tempered, quick to seek forgiveness and even quicker to give it, profane, intelligent, or supremely gifted. He has an irresistible charisma. I love him and would do anything for him. The best thing about him is that he will scream himself hoarse and then suddenly apologize and seek forgiveness. He’d get sarcastic with me when he was hung over or out of temper… and, like everyone else, I would be just about to say “I’ve had enough.” He always sensed it and came over and sort of breathed down my neck, “Aw, Geraldine, you’re not mad at old Duke are you?”… and I would melt and say “No”… I’d tell myself I was stupid to get taken in by that charm, but I just loved him.”
However badly he behaved, it seemed people couldn’t help responding to the John Wayne charm. Strother Martin, who worked with Duke a number of times said, “I always find it exciting working with him. I always know it’s going to be a baptism of fire. He’s rough, he’s tough. But he’s rough and tough with everybody. He’s also sentimental. He’s not a stand-offish man. He’s a mixer with stand-ins, day players, bit players, stars, stuntmen, wardrobe people, electricians, the whole damned array of people on both sides of a camera that make a film. He’ll never bite you behind your back. If he has something against you or something where he doesn’t agree with you as an actor, you’ll feel a chunk go out of your middle. He’ll usually give you a hug at night though. He doesn’t bear grudges. He respects hard work. He’s ready to bust his ass, and he expects everybody else to do the same. There’s never any lethargy on a John Wayne set. To be on a set with him is an electric experience, and nobody’s going to doze off that’s anywhere near where that man’s working.”
No one got star treatment on a Wayne set and all his crew were treated as equals. One night whilst they were making Hondo a storm blew up as the crew were moving equipment out of a dry lake bed. Hours later when Duke discovered they were not back he started worrying. He got the caterers up and helped them prepare coffee and food himself and took several bottles of tequila along to spend the rest of the night out with the stranded men. They ate, sang and told wild stories. And he was at his happiest out there with them. Page said, “The mutual affection between him and his crew was wonderful. He had natural leadership qualities and people would follow him anywhere, and through anything. Equally, he will do anything for them. He’s terribly bright, terribly intelligent, and he learns so quickly. He just seems to know how to do everything… He has the most wonderful joke-appreciating laugh that is the warmest, the most spontaneous, the biggest most beautiful laugh. I have never heard a more spontaneous laugh. It’s incredible.” She even loved his profanity, and knew that much of his laughter out on the lake bed would be peppered by the foulest language. Duke, Bond and some of the stuntmen often played cards in the room next to hers, “All night there was an endless stream of it… you know it’s like rhythm, like music… on and on it was fantastic.”
Page fell deeply in love and had no trouble explaining his screen presence or her love. “He’s a terribly honest man, you see. And that comes across, underlined by the kind of parts he plays. He always plays an honest man, and his own honesty feeds into it, and the simplicity of his acting. Big stars are a combination of their own personality and the parts they play, and if the combination of the two symbolizes something that’s very dear to all of our hearts, we want to see them again and again, and that makes them stars.”
Hondo was exactly that kind of role for him, it was vintage John Wayne, and Page was right, people wanted to see him again and again for he symbolized everything they held dear. The film off
ered escape from the conditions of life in a modern industrial society, took them out of their mechanized existence, away from economic dead ends, out of their own unhappy personal relationships, from political injustice and back to a time when men controlled their own destiny. His energy and power reflected the promise of a purer, more authentic existence in the story written by Louis L’Amour. Hondo Lane, US cavalry dispatch rider, was a worthy successor to the Wayne characters of a dozen previous westerns, and the film won positive acclaim from the critics, even though it didn’t live up to Duke’s own expectations. He felt the film was damaged by his 3D experiment and just one week after its release he launched a new, flat version of the film, which eventually went on to make money.
As soon as location work was completed he rushed home to rest. The difficult circumstances surrounding the movie had brought out the worst in him, and Pilar now witnessed his hard edge and his boiling anger, never too far below the surface, at close quarters. Plenty of people had warned her about his legendary rages and his fits of wild temper, but she’d never listened. When she briefly visited him on location she thought he’d gone crazy when he lashed out unexpectedly. What she actually saw was his dark side, always there and only allowed to surface then because he was too exhausted to suppress it. His temper, like a flash of lightning, was there one second, gone the next, “I don’t know what the hell gets into me.” He was quick to beg her forgiveness and he hardly noticed the power of his rage, or the damage he had done. Once he had cooled off Duke quickly forgot all about it and moved rapidly back to his more normal tender behavior, but Pilar found it particularly difficult to forget, or forgive. Of course she, like everybody else, found him irresistible when he chose to be charming, when he was contrite after the anger had passed, when he began laughing again, but he hurt her more than anybody else because she was so ill-equipped to cope with it. Despite the fact that it was she who gave him all the things he had ever needed, she also bore the brunt of his temper and never knew how to handle his moods.