by David Bret
Therefore the case was now referred to the US Attorney General, who called for a trial with an all-male jury ‘to avoid female blushes’. Witnesses were subpoenaed to testify to Clark’s manliness. Not only this but his movements at the time he was supposed to have been overseas impregnating Violet Norton. Among them were Franz Dorfler - now reported to have been Clark’s lover back in 1922-3 - and William Gable. The former could have rewarded Clark for dumping her by enlightening the court about his involvement with Earl Larimore, while the latter usually could not open his mouth without casting doubts on his son’s masculinity. Both were therefore briefed over what to say at the trial and suitably recompensed.
The trial, presided over by Judge George Cosgrove, opened on 20 April and not unexpectedly turned out to be a media circus. Hundreds of Gable fans camped out overnight outside the courthouse to ensure places in the gallery: they mingled with hot-dog vendors and ‘screechers’ hired by Howard Strickling, who ensured an hysterical atmosphere was maintained throughout the proceedings. Franz Dorfler had been discovered working in a kitchen - by sheer coincidence at the mansion owned by Bert Allenberg, partner of Clark’s agent, Phil Berg. The official line was that Clark had found her the position, an action arising out of gratitude for all she had done for him. In actual fact, Howard Strickling tracked her down and told her to say that she had been working for Allenberg for a number of years. Mayer objected to this. A former lover of Clark Gable could not be seen in such a lowly profession so he offered Dorfler a 10-year contract with MGM. That way she could be introduced to the court as a successful actress then greeted by Clark with a peck on the cheek and personally escorted by him to the witness stand. Dorfler told the truth, of how Clark had been lodging at her parents’ farm when Gwendoline Norton had been conceived. Then she added an invention of her own - that she and Clark had discussed marriage at this time when they had been so very much in love! To Mayer’s way of thinking, fagelahs did not go around asking women to marry them.
To make her appear more glamorous, MGM had given Dorfler a complete makeover - in direct contrast to Violet Norton, who was plump, dowdily dressed and, the press reported, so nervous that her dentures clicked all the way through her testimony. The farce continued when the ersatz Cockney announced that later in the trial she would be producing a vital character witness - Mae West, who had befriended her and subsequently offered to be Gwendoline’s godmother. Naturally, Mae never showed up, Clark emerged from the mess with a whiter-than-white reputation and Violet Norton received her comeuppance. The paid jury found her guilty as charged and she was sentenced to six months in jail. A few days later, this was commuted and Norton was subsequently deported - not back not to England, but to Canada, whence she had originally come from.
Ben Maddox’s editor had been paid to ensure his star reporter was out of Hollywood while the trial took place, as had Adela Rogers St Johns and others who would have exposed the scam. Exclusive coverage of the whole silly scenario had been assigned to Otto Winkler, a reporter with the Los Angeles Herald Examiner, who, like Franz Dorfler, had been added to the MGM payroll. From now on, Winkler would take over from Howard Strickling as Clark’s ‘personal public relations officer’ - in other words, cover for him whenever he stepped out of line. If the whole purpose of the trial had been to prove to the world that Clark Gable was the most virile he-man in recent history, no lessons had been learned so far as he himself was concerned. When not on a hunting or fishing trip, he still hung around with the same crowd: Eddie Quillan, Ben Maddox, William Haines, Cesar Romero - though always with Carole. She saw no reason to dispense with her dearest friends just because they were regarded as ‘abnormal’ by their bigoted peers, not least of all Clark himself. There was a concise difference between Carole mocking him over his virility - telling all and sundry about his ‘tiny meat’ and ‘shortcomings in the sack’ - and Clark’s persistent use of terms such as ‘fairy’ and ‘faggot’. She mocked him to his face because she was convinced he could take it - while he was all buddy-buddy to his gay friends’ faces, pulling them to pieces behind their backs when they were unable to defend themselves.
In 1934, Carole bought a house in Lincoln Heights (at the time of writing occupied by British singer Morrissey), and she now brought in William Haines to turn it into a very un-Gable-like miniature fun palace. With time on his hands now that his movie career was over, and championed by three close friends - Carole, Marion Davies and Joan Crawford - Haines was about to become one of the most requested interior designers in Hollywood. Carole wanted a house to match her zany, unpredictable humour, and as few had experienced this first-hand more than Haines, he was perfect for the job. Inasmuch as she mocked Clark’s virilility and dragged his ego down a peg or two, so she teased Haines by parading around the house naked while he was working. Haines’ biographer, William J. Mann (Wisecracker), quotes Carole as saying to her friend, ‘I wouldn’t do this, Billy, if I thought I could arouse you!’ Haines refused to charge her one cent for refurbishing her home, knowing that with her ‘gift of the gab’ she would soon spread the news of his other talent away from the screen. And he was right. Within a month the commissions came flooding in: Joan Crawford, John and Lionel Barrymore, Claudette Colbert - and even Jack Warner, the arch hypocrite who had joined forces with Louis B. Mayer to rid Hollywood of its ‘fagelah epidemic’.
The Lombard house - it will never be known by any other name, no matter who lives there - today bears little evidence of her presence, but Haines’ sublime craftsmanship - subsequently replaced by such items as the hideous fireplace from San Simeon and portraits of punk outfit The New York Dolls - was described by Kenneth Anger in Hollywood Babylon II:
For Lombard’s home decor, Haines went against the grain of the ‘Hollywoodmodern’ style with its accent on white . . . He made her house a riot of colour, against which her blonde loveliness stood out. The drawing room was a sea of velvet, in six shades of blue, with French Empire furniture. He plunked a bed down in her bedroom and covered it with plum satin, with a mirror screen on each side. Soon everyone in Hollywood was chatting about the Lombard house . . . Every rising starlet wanted a mirror screen on each side of her overworked bed.
Clark was by now living with Carole, so it was inevitable that he saw a great deal of William Haines. Off and on he was still enjoying Ben Maddox’s company, otherwise he appears to have left his practising gay past behind: these men had served their purpose and would soon be entirely dispensed with. Now there was absolutely no doubt that he would be playing Rhett Butler, Clark Gable was on his way towards becoming the biggest male movie star in Christendom - and there would be no room in that world for the slightest whiff of scandal.
Chapter Six
SOUTHERN BELLES & SINNERS
In May 1937 Clark was assigned to Saratoga, part-scripted by Anita Loos, and co-starring Jean Harlow (Louis B. Mayer had initially wanted Joan Crawford). The movie and fan magazines, who had adored Clark’s pairings with Harlow and Crawford believed Carole Lombard should have another chance to work with him - they were, after all, an undisputed item. Mayer was all for the idea until the Hays Office warned him that this would be unacceptable while Ria Gable was still around. He therefore offered to ‘help’ by way of subbing Clark from future earnings so that he could divorce Ria and pay her off. For the time being, however, he refused to cooperate.
While shooting Saratoga, Clark and Carole saw little of each other. Lombard the actress was far removed from Lombard the party animal: when working it was a strict regime of early to bed, early to rise, and no nights out. Her latest project, David Selznick’s Nothing Sacred, was of paramount importance being her first Technicolor film. Also, she was trying to keep on side with the tetchy producer in the hope of him casting her as Scarlett O’Hara. Her hopes spiralled when Selznick signed her for two more films - upon her insistence, dramatic roles to ‘get her in the mood’ for the big one.
In his spare time, Clark hung out with Jean Harlow and William Powell, now unofficial
ly engaged to be married. For months Harlow had been looking peaky: she had piled on the pounds, her features were bloated, she had begun to have blackouts; she was also suffering from the shakes and her hair had started to fall out. At least one studio doctor attributed her hair loss to over-use of peroxide to retain its platinum sheen. Initially, Clark suspected her health problems may have been due to drinking - she had hit the bottle after Paul Bern’s suicide and Hal Rosson proved more of a boozing companion than the deterring influence Louis B. Mayer had hoped for.
During the afternoon of 29 May, Harlow was taken ill on the set with what the studio doctor at first suspected might have been a gall-bladder infection on account of her breath smelling of urine. Mama Jean - with her at the time - could have saved her, but as a devout Christian Scientist she refused to allow medical intervention - even from Louis B. Mayer’s personal physician. Clark stepped in, personally arranging for her to be admitted to the Good Samaritan Hospital, by which time it was too late to save her. Uremic poisoning had set in, hence the odour of urine, and this was almost certainly a delayed reaction to the severe beating Bern had administered on their wedding night. On the morning of 7 June 1937, the woman affectionately known as ‘Baby’ passed away in her sleep. She was just 26.
Louis B. Mayer’s grief for his favourite star after Garbo was profound and genuine. Indeed, all Hollywood went into mourning, with the shock all the harder to take because within hours of Howard Strickling announcing news of her illness to the press, he had to tell them she was dead. All the major studios closed for the day: cinemas and theatres across America dimmed their lights and held two-minute silences. Even the moralists had admired this ‘tart with a heart’ because they believed that, deep down inside, she had been a good, sincere person. It was only after her death that it was to be revealed how promiscuous she had actually been.
Clark was one of the pallbearers at her funeral, two days later. Though advised not to do so, Carole accompanied him to the ceremony at Forest Lawn’s Wee Kirk O’The Heather Chapel, their first official outing as a couple. Like Irving Thalberg’s funeral, it was tantamount to a royal occasion, albeit one lasting less than thirty minutes and, unlike Thalberg’s, one where all those invited wanted to be there because they had genuinely adored her. The exceptions were Nelson Eddy, who sang ‘Oh, Sweet Mystery Of Life’, and Jeanette MacDonald, who warbled ‘Indian Love Call’ - both charged for their services. Genevieve Smith - the Christian Science practitioner who, by advising Mama Jean not to seek medical intervention had contributed to Harlow’s death, if not actually caused it - read several passages from the Bible, along with an extract from Mary Baker Eddy’s Science & Health With A Key To The Scriptures. Then ‘Baby’, wearing her pink negligee from Saratoga and reposing in a $5,000 bronze and silver casket, was laid to rest in a $25,000 vault within the Sanctuary of Benediction Mausoleum, paid for by William Powell. Over the entrance is the simple inscription, ‘Our Baby’.
Initially, Louis B. Mayer announced that Saratoga would be scrapped, because he owed it to Harlow to respect her memory - a seemingly benevolent gesture coming from the man who had more or less fleeced Marie Dressler on her deathbed. But the press saw through the ruse. The film had cost his studio $850,000, which he would now be able to recover from their insurers. Then Mayer changed his mind. He would complete the film and release it as a tribute to the dead star, an announcement that attracted still more criticism. As had happened 11 years earlier in the wake of Valentino’s sudden demise, MGM were accused of taking advantage of a tragedy to fill their coffers.
Shooting was resumed at once. Lookalike Mary Dees was hired for the scenes Harlow had not lived to complete but because her voice was unlike Harlow’s, her lines were overdubbed by radio actress Paula Winslow. The film wrapped on 29 June, was edited quickly, and released to near mass hysteria on 23 July. In many cinemas, Parnell was taken off the bill to accommodate it.
The film opens at Brookvale Farm stud, once the finest in Saratoga, where feisty Grandpa Clayton (Lionel Barrymore) is about to lose his last stallion to the creditors. He runs the place with his son Frank (Jonathan Hale), who has gambled away practically everything they ever had. Enter disreputable bookmaker Duke Bradley (Clark), who rescues the situation by buying the horse for the old man because he loves him. Indeed, Duke loves everyone, including the chubby black maid Rosetta (an inspired performance from Hattie McDaniel), who says, ‘Ah’d fix up for him any time. If only he was the right colour, ah’d marry him!’
When Clayton’s granddaughter Carol (Harlow) arrives from England with her stuffy millionaire fiancé Hartley (Walter Pidgeon), Duke devises a scheme to get the stud farm back in the red. She is hoity-toity with a phoney King’s English accent, while he is ‘the perfect chump with a bankroll the size of the US Treasury’. At first, Frank is in with the plan, giving Duke the deeds to the farm to cover the gambling debt he owes him, so that it will be in safe keeping for Carol to inherit some day. When Frank dies suddenly at the racetrack, however, Carol says she will get Hartley to cover the debt so that she will not be beholden to Duke, who she suspects only wants the farm for himself. To ensure Hartley pays up, she agrees to marry him sooner than anticipated, bringing the strangled response from Duke, ‘A gal that put the bite on a bridegroom for 60,000 smackers before she even gets him to the altar is awfully full of larceny!’
A battle of wits ensues between Duke and Clayton - and between Hartley and Carol when Clayton puts his only decent racehorse, Moonray, up for sale. Pitched against the rough-and-ready auction crowd, Harlow is a vision of brassy loveliness with her platinum locks and Dolly Tree gold-lamé gown. Hartley is fleeced into buying the horse for way over the odds so that Clayton can train him and keep the farm going until Duke has duped him into parting with even more cash. He does this by giving Hartley good odds on a horse that wins, gaining his confidence until Hartley starts to lose money hand over fist on worthless nags.
While Hartley cannot bear to kiss Carol (Walter Pidgeon ungallantly protested that Harlow’s breath smelled of urine, which we now know to have been a symptom of her final illness), Carol pretends to dislike Duke, though she is secretly in love with him. Finally, she comes clean on the Race Special express train after a scene reminiscent of the one in It Happened One Night when all the passengers engage in a lively sing-song. She makes an effort to impress him, putting on her best kimonah (sic, a longstanding Gable-Harlow in-joke), before admitting him to her sleeping compartment and letting him rub embrocation on her chest and back. Then she is back to hating him again when, on learning that her ‘chump’ is about to be sent packing, Duke offers her a percentage if she can keep stringing Hartley along. She declares she will have her revenge: by the time she has finished with him, Duke will have been reduced to begging on a street corner with a tin cup!
The film’s ending is disappointing, but at the time of its release of tremendous curiosity value. Picture-goers and critics alike tried to work out which was the real Harlow in some scenes, and which was her stand-in. Hartley bets a fortune on his own horse, which Carol convinces him will win the race and thus bankrupt Duke. In a photo finish, the horse loses, Clayton gets to keep his stud-farm and fate throws Carol and Duke together during another singalong on the express train - actually a scene saved over from the first singalong.
Between these two train scenes there have been no others with Jean Harlow. This explains why, in the first one where Carol feigns illness to gain Duke’s attention, her violent coughing fit was regarded as distasteful by those believing that the film was shot in sequence and that Louis B. Mayer had left Harlow’s final (sic) scene in to acquire maximum publicity. But this was not the case: her final scenes were at the racetrack, where Carol is first introduced to Duke (Harlow’s features are bloated due to the medication she was on). There was also a scene at the very end of the film where Clark was supposed to carry her across a room and unceremoniously drop her on to a chaise longue. This was abandoned when she went limp in his arms shortly before coll
apsing on the set. During the last four racing scenes, Carol’s features are partly obscured by her binoculars, or she is shot from behind. Similarly, in the sequence where everyone dances the Saratoga, when Harlow dances through the French windows and on to the patio, it is the less buxom Mary Dees emerging from the other side. Worse still is the scene with Hattie McDaniel, where she takes delivery of a consignment of tin cups sent by Duke as a prank - her entire head and shoulders are hidden by a ridiculously large picture hat which all but fills the screen.