Merv Griffin- A Life in the Closet

by Darwin Porter

  “You want me to take you back?” Merv asked.

  “I never really left, not in my heart,” Hadley said. “For me, you are the man.”

  “I'm not sure I believe that,” Merv said. “You fly away with Howard Hughes and then you just show up whenever you like. I'm not sure I'm taking you back.”

  Hadley rose from the sofa. “I think I have something here that will make you change your mind.” He unfastened his shorts and let them fall to the floor. Merv could not resist the temptation.

  Sitting in an adjoining, plantfilled garden room, Bill Robbins heard every word but remained stonily silent during the interchange. He was later to confide to his friends that that afternoon set the tone for the future relationship of Merv and Hadley. “It was an agreement to betray each other any time their little ol’ cheatin’ hearts desired it.”

  That night Merv and Hadley, after making love, had dinner with Paul and Bill. Paul was still dreaming of stardom, which he insisted would be brokered by Henry Willson. “I love Henry dearly,” Merv said, “but don't you think his promises are just bullshit?”

  “No way!” Paul said defensively. “I know he's told dozens of Hollywood hunks he's going to make a star out of them like Tab Hunter or Rock Hudson. But there's one big difference in my case. Henry's fallen in love with me. I'm going to hold out and endure all that slobbering over me until I hit it big. When I do, I'll say ‘adios forever’ to Henry.”

  Merv sighed as he sipped a cocktail. “I'm not sure the scenario will work out that way. But good luck, kid. Tread lightly into that pit of vipers. They bite. They sting. They kill.”

  “I know how to take care of myself,” Paul said. “Just you guys wait and see.”

  ***

  It was the last big gathering Merv would ever attend at the home of Jack Warner, to whom he was still under contract with a movie career going nowhere. Hadley had wanted to come to the party as Merv's date but Merv rejected the idea. “How in the fuck do you think it'd look if I showed up with you on my arm?”

  At Jack Warner's mansion, Merv was greeted by the studio chief himself. “Hi Griff. Great news. I'm getting you cast in the Phantom of the Rue Morgue. Great part. Great cast. A 3D horror production. It'll be bigger than House of Wax.”

  “Do I get to play the lead?” Merv asked.

  “Not exactly, but it's a great part. You'll be a French student at the Sorbonne in Paris.”

  “Me, playing a Frog with my nighttraintoDublin puss?”

  “You'll be great, kid,” Jack promised. “Do I see an Oscar for best supporting? Now circulate. I've got more MGM stars here tonight than that fart, Louis B. Mayer, ever had in heaven back in the creep's heyday.”

  “Do I have to sing for my supper tonight?” Merv asked.

  “If Judy Garland, Gordon MacRae or Doris Day had showed up, I'd never have asked. But none of those pussies are here.”

  “Can I quote you about MacRae being a pussy?”

  “What I mean is that he's usually so drunk he can't get it up. The only way he can have sex is if somebody shoves something up his ass. But you can forget about singing tonight. We've got Mimi Benzell who's about to go on.”

  Merv joined the others in the large living room, waving at Elizabeth Taylor with her second husband, Michael Wilding. He noticed Robert Taylor with his sultry new wife, Ursula Thiess, although Merv would forever remember him as the husband of Barbara Stanwyck.

  Humphrey Bogart was also standing nearby, but not with Lauren Bacall. Merv hadn't seen Bogie since staring at him nude in the shower at his Uncle Elmer's sports club. Merv introduced himself again to Bogie, who in turn introduced him to an attractive brunette named Verita Thompson. Bogie claimed that “Verita here is in charge of my toupées.” But Merv already knew that Verita was Bogie's longtime mistress, an affair that predated Bacall and which had lasted through the course of the marriage itself.

  Mimi Benzell had never been Merv's favorite singer, although the American soprano had performed at New York's Metropolitan Opera and was a Broadway musical star as well as a performer on television and in night-clubs.

  In front of Jack's invited guests, she went through her familiar repertoire, ranging from Roberta to The Vagabond King. Not ending it there, she delivered renditions from Mozart's The Magic Flute and Met credits that included La Bohème, Rigoletto, and Der Rosenkavalier. As she was deep into her sixteenth number, Jack approached Merv, whispering in his ear, “Griff, get this fucking broad to sit down.”

  Studio Chief Jack Warner with

  opera diva Mimi Benzell

  “Griff, get this broad to sit down!”

  Merv was surprised that Jack, the host, didn't take it upon himself to bring an end to Mimi's concert. At the end of her latest number, Mimi asked the audience, “Any special requests?”

  Merv piped up, “How about ‘Tippy Tippy Tin?’” As the other guests burst into laughter, Mimi fled from the room in tears. Later Merv felt bad about having embarrassed her in such a way.

  Jack came up to him. “Great, Griff. You were just great. I'll owe you one. Perhaps I can arrange for you to fuck Hedy Lamarr.”

  Wandering down to the terrace overlooking the garden, Merv encountered Robert Taylor smoking a cigarette. Although Merv felt that Robert in the 1930s had been one of the three most handsome men in Hollywood, ranking up there with Tyrone Power and Errol Flynn, he clearly saw that time had taken its toll. Robert had moved deep into middle age and was a bit jowly.

  At the time Merv met Robert, he was trying to hold onto his box office allure with epic pictures, including the Biblical spectacle Quo Vadis?, which had brought a temporary reprieve for the fading star.

  Even so, despite the passage of time, Merv was still thrilled to meet one of his schoolboy crushes of the 1930s, even if Robert no longer looked as he did when he played opposite Greta Garbo in Camille.

  Hoping to ingratiate himself with Robert, Merv immediately mentioned his mutual friendships with Howard Hughes and Errol Flynn. He knew that Robert, a bisexual, had engaged in sexual dalliances with both of them. “They've both told me a lot about you, and I've been dying to meet you.”

  Merv knew at once that he'd said the wrong thing when anger flashed across Robert's face. “I don't know what in the fuck they told you, but I haven't seen either of them in years. Everything they say is a pack of lies.”

  “Oh, no,” Merv said, “they spoke of you only with the highest respect.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” Robert said. He moved menacingly toward Merv. “Get this and get it good. I'm not a God damn faggot like you guys. All you pansies run up and down Hollywood Boulevard trying to slander every straight actor in town. In my case, you're barking up the wrong tree.” The actor stormed off the terrace.

  “What a son of a bitch!” Merv said out loud.

  “I've been called many things in my life, but not that, although I'm sure I deserve it.” Merv whirled around to see who he was talking to. The voice came from Michael Wilding.

  “Whenever I get mad at Michael, I call him a cocksucker,” came a woman's voice behind Michael. It was Elizabeth herself, looking beautiful in the moonlight. She was glamorously attired in purple. Moving in on Merv, she kissed his cheek.

  Merv shook Michael's hand, gazing into his handsome, intelligent face. “I've been dabbling in Hollywood for a spell, but the results so far have been less than sterling,” Michael said. “Did you see me in Torch Song?”

  “Who could forget Joan Crawford in black face?” Merv asked.

  With Elizabeth between them, both Merv and Michael escorted her back into the party. “You've got to drive up and visit us one night for dinner,” Michael said.

  “It's a deal,” Merv said. “But I've got to warn you. Not so long ago, your wife and I were having a torrid affair.”

  “That's right, darling,” Elizabeth chimed in. “Merv could go all night, sleep an hour or two and then start all over again.”

  “That's certainly more than I can do,” Michael said, smiling. “Of cour
se, a woman as beautiful as my bride can inspire a middleaged man to great glory. Wouldn't you say so, Merv?”

  “I would indeed,” Merv said. He never expected Michael to call him with that promised dinner invitation, and he forgot all about it as he entered the foyer to hear the familiar voice of Jack Warner.

  “Griff, get your fat ass over here,” Jack said. “I want you to meet the great, the one and only French dwarf, Claudette Colbert.”

  Jack laughed at his own line, but was greeted with a stony silence from Claudette.

  “Since both of you arrived stag tonight, I want you to be Claudette's escort,” Jack said.

  “An honor, Miss Colbert,” Merv said, bowing to kiss her hand.

  “How gallant,” she said to Merv, as Jack rushed off to greet arriving guests. “Far more gallant than Jack Warner. He's the rudest man in Hollywood. I only show up because he throws the greatest parties in town.”

  “I loved you and Gable in It Happened One Night,” he said.

  “That was so long ago,” she said. “I wish you'd have congratulated me for All About Eve. I was set to play Margo Channing until I hurt my back. Bette Davis ruined that picture.”

  “You'll make bigger and better pictures than Eve in the years to come,” he said.

  Claudette Colbert

  Suddenly Jack Warner appeared again with a studio photographer. “Quick,” Claudette said, taking Merv's arm and altering his position. “You stand on the right side of me. I can only be photographed from the left side.”

  ***

  As an actor, Merv always considered Michael Wilding a poor man's James Mason. He had a facile British charm and impeccable manners. Merv found him likable during the three or four occasions he was invited to the home Michael shared with Elizabeth Taylor and their housemates, Stewart Granger and his wife, Jean Simmons.

  Having been sexually involved with Elizabeth's first husband, Nicky Hilton, Merv, after evaluating her second husband, concluded that as a sex object Michael was a flame that flickered at a lower voltage.

  After Elizabeth's firsthand contact with the mental cruelty, the womanizing, the drinking, and the hard fists of Nicky Hilton, Michael must have seemed like a relatively comfortable father figure. But during Merv's second visit, he sensed the tension between Elizabeth and Michael, to whom she was barely speaking. Monty Clift acted as intermediary between the newlyweds, seeming to hover protectively over the marriage. In their discussions, Monty confided to Merv, “I'm Elizabeth's platonic husband. She's the other half of me, the only woman who ever turned me on.”

  Merv found Stewart Granger dazzlingly handsome—easily as seductive as the swashbuckler he played in movies such as King Solomon's Mines (1950). With Errol Flynn frequently drunk and going to seed, Stewart seemed his heir apparent in adventure movies.

  Merv had casually mentioned to Michael that his new friend, Hadley, had remodeled his pool house into a nurturing safe haven and love nest for overnight guests. The very next day Michael called him. At first Merv misunderstood the call and got rather flirty with Michael.

  “Elizabeth is fucking Victor Mature,” Michael said with anger and an uncharacteristic bluntness. “Do you mind if I borrow your poolhouse for the night?”

  Merv was filled with anticipation at the prospect of seducing the second husband of Elizabeth. But he sensed a hesitation in Michael's voice. “And, oh yes, dear chap that you are, you don't mind if I bring a guest.”

  Even before Michael arrived with his guest, Merv knew who it would be. None other than Stewart Granger. Roddy McDowall had already told Merv that Michael and Stewart had been engaged in an ongoing affair for years.

  In Merv's living room, Michael excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving Merv sitting opposite Stewart and taking in his muscular figure. He knew of the actor's past affairs with the likes of Hedy Lamarr and Deborah Kerr, and he envied Michael for having such an appealing lover. Sitting on Merv's sofa, the actor was complaining about Michael. “He eats my food, he drinks my expensive wine, and he even fucks my women. Yet he won't do pressups with me.”

  “Maybe he'll do something else tonight,” Merv said provocatively.

  “He's always willing to do that,” Stewart claimed. “Don't get the wrong idea about me. I'm the top.”

  “I could have guessed,” Merv said. “Michael is so passive, and you look like you're charged with testosterone.”

  “That I am, my dear boy,” Stewart said. “Perhaps you'll get lucky one night and learn what the excitement is all about.”

  When Michael returned, Stewart said, “My bloke here should have married Marlene Dietrich, not Elizabeth Taylor. Marlene still adores him. She's just a hausfrau at heart and would have taken wonderful care of Michael's health, which has never been good. Marlene would make a wonderful wife, smothering him with good food and love. She once told me, ‘Tell Michael he needs me, since he's too stupid to figure that out for himself.’”

  “Marlene would be too much woman for me,” Michael said. “Besides, she'll never divorce her husband, and I could never marry a woman who sleeps with more beautiful women than I could ever attract.”

  “What a thing to say,” Merv chimed in. “For God's sake, man, you're married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  “Beware of what you think you want,” Michael said. “My marriage was a ceremony performed in hell.”

  In the weeks leading up to Merv's departure from Hollywood's film industry, Stewart and Michael shared his poolhouse on at least three occasions. Hadley was disappointed that he wasn't invited to join “the two limeys.”

  On a Saturday night, Michael called late and asked to use the poolhouse once again. Merv agreed and Michael arrived about an hour later. Instead of Stewart, Michael had Marlene Dietrich on his arm.

  Talented British blokes shacked up together

  chez Merv in Hollywood

  Stewart Granger (center) and Michael Wilding (right)

  Left photo: Marlene Dietrich as temptress

  Merv sat briefly with the blonde goddess in his living room. She was wearing a pink dress and black hosiery that highlighted her fabulous legs.

  With candor, she chatted. “Taylor and I are forced to share Michael. Right now Taylor and I are also sharing Sinatra. Every time we make love, Michael tells me he cannot live without me. And then he goes home and fucks that Taylor bitch. It must be those huge breasts of hers. Michael likes them to dangle in his face.” She raised the hem of her dress slightly. “Of course, Taylor has short, dumpy legs, the legs of a peasant. Not like mine at all.”

  “Miss Dietrich, your legs are legendary around the world,” Merv said. “I heard that even Hitler wanted them wrapped around him.”

  She crushed out her cigarette with a certain fury, flashing her anger. “Hitler was a homosexual.”

  Getting up early the next morning, Marlene had apparently forgiven Merv and had prepared him the best scrambled eggs of his life. At the door that morning, he kissed Marlene and Michael on their cheeks and invited them to use his love nest any time they wanted.

  An hour later, Hadley arrived without telling Merv where he'd been all night. He expressed regret at not getting to meet Marlene and then informed Merv that he was exhausted and didn't want to be disturbed for the rest of the day.

  On yet another occasion, Merv wasn't surprised to hear Michael's horny voice on the other end of his phone line. “Mind if I show up with a blonde goddess?” Michael asked.

  “Bring her on,” Merv said, assuming that Michael had another date with Marlene.

  At the door he was surprised to encounter a leggy and voluptuous blonde starlet. He recognized her at once, although he'd only seen one of her pictures and that was a piece of fluff called Getting Gertie's Garter back in 1945. Kentuckyborn Marie McDonald—a.k.a. “Miss New York of 1939”—was known in Hollywood as “The Body” and the description fit her perfectly.

  Michael went to check out the lighting within the poolhouse. When he returned, Marie looked him up and down
and said in front of Merv, “I like my men rich and handsome. In Michael's case, I had to settle just for the good looks. Unless, of course, he can shake some money from Taylor's piggybank during their divorce.”

  “The Body”

  Marie McDonald

  Michael shocked Merv when he told him that he planned to divorce Elizabeth and marry Marie. As it turned out, however, Elizabeth divorced Michael, and he never married Marie.

  Marie faded from Merv's life as fast as she'd entered, but her memory lingered. Years later he got an idea for a film script. He wanted to base a movie on Marie's tumultuous life, calling the film The Body.

  He even hired a script writer to develop it, suggesting that reallife fragments from the experiences of other “popcorn blondes” might be incorporated, including Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Betty Hutton, Marilyn Monroe, and Jayne Mansfield. Merv had followed Marie's career as she went from a pinup girl in World War II through seven husbands, addictions to alcohol and prescription drugs, arrests for drunk driving, and various suicide attempts. In 1957, she faked her own kidnapping, generating headlines worldwide when the plot unraveled.

  As the years went by, Merv avidly followed the tabloid accounts of Marie's various scandals. They included a prolonged affair with the notorious gangster Bugsy Siegel. She was twice married to the shoe tycoon, Harry Karl, who went on to marry Debbie Reynolds and to lose both his and her fortunes. In her final film, a failure of a comedy entitled Promises! Promises! (1963), a fortyyearold Marie costarred with Jayne Mansfield, whom she bitterly disliked.

  As a means of showing Marie and the rest of the world who had the better body, Jayne opted to appear topless.

  The producer of that otherwise forgettable film was Marie's seventh and final husband, Donald F. Taylor. In 1965 Marie presumably killed herself with an overdose of Percodan. Taylor was suspected of murdering her, but he committed suicide shortly after her death and never went on trial.