Frames (29 page)

The Merry Widow.
Directed by Erich von Stroheim, starring Mae Murray, John Gilbert, Roy D’Arcy, Tully Marshall, and Josephine Crowell (cameo by Clark Gable!). MGM, 1925.

This is the one about the prince and the showgirl, based on an operetta by Franz Lehar, with the infamous boot-collection scene. (Von Stroheim: “He has a foot fetish.” Thalberg: “And you have a footage fetish!”) Not available on home video.

Sunset Boulevard.
Directed by Billy Wilder, starring Gloria Swanson, William Holden, Erich von Stroheim, Cecil B. DeMille (cameos by Buster Keaton, H.B. Warner, Anna Q. Nillson, Henry Wilcoxon). Paramount, 1950.

Billy Wilder, another eccentric Austrian director, wrote this masterpiece under the indisputable influence of Raymond Chandler, with whom he collaborated on the script of
Double Indemnity
six years before. Ironically, it’s the movie most people think of when they hear the names Swanson and Von Stroheim, made a generation after the dozens of pictures that made them household names throughout the world; but then that’s the theme of
Boulevard:
No matter how much money you made for your studio and the industry, you’re disposable and quickly forgotten. Von Stroheim’s real-life fall from grace is eerily reflected in Max von Mayerling’s subservience to the woman he’d directed and once wed. The casting is spot-on and unique. However eye-catching you find Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical stage adaptation in the 1990s, even his pool of talent couldn’t approach an aging silent star cast as an aging silent star, a disgraced director playing a disgraced director, and DeMille playing DeMille. The film is the
Gone With the Wind
of cinema noir, and the best movie Hollywood ever made about Hollywood. Available on DVD.

**

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Frames
could not have been written but for the inspiration and contributions of the following people, some of whom have exited the theater:

Bill Kennedy, host of
At
the Movies.
For decades, Kennedy, a former movie bit player (
I
Died a Thousand Times)
and radio announcer (“Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive!”), introduced virtually the entire library of every studio afternoons on CKLW and later WKBD TV. His formidable knowledge of Hollywood lore— and his somewhat acerbic personality—required as much as fifteen minutes during station breaks while he fielded questions telephoned in by viewers. No one seemed to mind the interruptions.

Mary Morgan, hostess (with her dachshund, Liebchen) of
Million Dollar Movie.
This ladylike Detroiter, her hair piled high and sprayed hard as mahogany, brought a more genteel quality to local programming Sunday afternoons following Kennedy, scavenging features he’d overlooked.

Rita Bell, hostess of
Prize Movie.
On WXYZ Channel 7, infectiously bubbling Ms. Bell filled the time between reels taking calls from viewers trying to answer the trivia question of the hour. Each wrong answer added seven dollars to the cash prize awarded the winner.

Don Ameche, host of
Armchair Theater.
The urbane actor, whose career spanned sixty years
(The Story of Alexander Graham Bell, Heaven Can Wait, Trading Places, Cocoon),
brought style and polish to this network evening showcase, sipping cognac from a balloon glass and wearing a silk smoking jacket in the depths of a huge wingback easy chair.

The unsung programmers behind
Saturday Night at the Movies.
The Estleman family bonded around this weekly CBS fixture.

Deborah, the writer’s wife. An accomplished novelist (as Deborah Morgan), she made suggestions, offered advice, counseled reason, and braved the terrors of the Internet to retrieve bales of technical material on preserving and restoring films photographed on silver nitrate. In addition, she holds her husband’s hand through the closing credits long after everyone else has left the room.

Janet Hutchings, editor of
Ellery Queens Mystery Magazine.
A friend and fine editor, she’s published ten Valentino short stories as of the time of this writing. May this happy relationship continue.

The coveted final credit goes to Kevin Brownlow, author of
The Parade’s Gone By
and coproducer of
Hollywood.
He’s done more than any other person living to rescue the silent movie from oblivion and to raise the public consciousness to its appreciation; as a real-life film detective, he’s recovered hundreds of miles of footage once considered lost, including the complete 235-minute cut of
Napoleon,
Abel Gance’s 1927 epic—for whose 1979 premiere the eighty-nine-year-old director took his bows. In every way, Brownlow is the inspiration for Valentino. He may yet find
Greed.