A beguiling Bette lounging amidst pumpkin bright leaves:
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BETTE DAVIS IN FALL COLOR
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“I don’t take the movies seriously, and anybody who does is in for a headache,” Bette Davis
Bette Davis watching dailies
Bette Davis on a sound stage
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Bette Davis and Me
If you read this blog you know a lot of what I do is: curate and post imagery about a certain era of Hollywood, and talk about myself. Here’s the Hollywood bit, Bette Davis in town doing stage work on Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte, circa 1964:
Here’s the part about me, I bought a new pair of glasses. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions:
After a short break from editing due to London/Los Angeles scheduling conflicts I, and Sir Editor, are jumping back into work. I am toying with the idea of posting pictures for the next few weeks and shutting down the comment section of Beguiling so I don’t end up being the rudest blogger on the block. What do you all think?
Oh, and to make things really confusing I’m posting the prologue and first chapter of the second book I wrote (well, so far I’m only halfway through, to be honest), the point is it’s NOT the book that we’re currently editing. But, even in its raw state I hope you find it amusing.
All my best, not so subtle — Vickie
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“Peg Entwistle and The Hollywood Sign”– by Hope Anderson
Peg Entwistle and the Hollywood Sign
by Hope Anderson
Introduction
My interest in the actress Peg Entwistle, who in 1932 committed suicide from the Hollywood Sign (which then read Hollywoodland), began in 2006, when I began researching the neighborhood’s history for my documentary, Under the Hollywood Sign. Though seventy-four years had passed since her death, she was a local legend, her memory refreshed by occasional claims of sighting her ghost at the Hollywood Sign. Yet no one seemed to know anything about her life, aside from the fact that she had acted in a single movie called Thirteen Women, whose failure spurred her suicide.
Online I found only three or four photos of Peg, one of which—the half-nude in Kenneth Anger’s Hollywood Babylon—didn’t even resemble her, apart from the platinum bob that was so popular in the early 1930s. Through this and other fictions, Anger shaped an indelible impression of Peg Entwistle as a talentless, inexperienced wannabe starlet. As I would learn, she was none of those things, having been an acting prodigy who made her Broadway debut at seventeen. From then until the very end of her life, she worked steadily on stage, in New York, Boston and Los Angeles, as well as on national tours.
Just Published: My eBook, “Peg Entwistle and The Hollywood Sign” | Under the Hollywood Sign.
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Bette Davis on Peg Entwistle
Peg has been depicted as a naïf, a lightweight and a wannabe, but nothing could be farther from the truth. No less a star than Bette Davis vividly recalled seeing her act in “The Wild Duck” in Boston in 1926. Davis said, “Before that performance, I wanted to be an actress. When it ended, I had to be an actress, exactly like Peg Entwistle.”
Amazon.com: Peg Entwistle and The Hollywood Sign eBook: Hope Anderson: Books.
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My friend wrote a book about Peg Entwistle and made a short film, but…
Kelly Brand in “Peg Entwistle’s Last Walk” photo by Cynthia Perry for Hope Anderson Productions
One of the things I found most intriguing about this insightful and touching portrait of a golden girl’s fatal plunge into depression, was Hope Anderson’s account of filming the reenactment of Peg Entwistle’s last walk from from her home on Beachwood Canyon, up to the Hollywood sign.
From finding a young movie star’s antelope handbag from 1932 in which to carry Peg’s suicide note, from casting the perfect flawless actress to play the part, to cajoling neighbors to provide power for night shoots, to making sandwiches to feed the crew; Hope takes us on a typical film journey. And here’s the thing — it takes grit, a bit of magic, and a whole hell of a lot determination to carry it off.
What a fascinating story, and on so many levels. I hope you all read:
Amazon.com: Peg Entwistle and The Hollywood Sign eBook: Hope Anderson: Books.
Hope has just finished an accompanying DVD called “Peg Entwistle: The Life and Death of an Actress” that consists of both the short and her bio. She’s currently in the process of creating a new website that will have digital downloads as well as DVDs for sale, and it’s not up yet. But, if you’re interested in further information you can contact her via Under the Hollywood Sign | History and Filmmaking in the Heart of Hollywood. Or email: hopeanderson09@gmail.com.
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Bette Davis, up to mischief, on the beach
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THE HOLLYWOOD CANTEEN
Bette Davis and John Garfield decided something had to be done for the enlisted men who passed through Southern California…
They secured a building at 1451 Cahuenga Boulevard and opened a USO club to be staffed by movies stars and entertainers. That’s Dezi Arnaz:
That’s co-founder Bette Davis preparing to slice a formidable cake:
John Garfield on the Canteen’s 1st birthday:
Bette reviewing photos with Bob Hope and Marlene Dietrich – I see John Ford, Clark Gable…
A separate post could be written about Marlene Dietrich’s war efforts, but for now, Dietrich serves coffee:
And dances with a French sailor:
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THANKSGIVING AT THE HOLLYWOOD CANTEEN WITH DINAH SHORE
Dinah shares her drumstick at the Hollywood Canteen:
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Peg Entwistle and the Hollywood Sign Suicide: A Biography — by James Zeruk, Jr.
James Zeruk, Jr. – an author with a time spanning affinity with an actress, once a mystery, now lovingly revealed: Peg Entwistle.
“I spent seven years researching and writing Peg’s biography. I lived with her brother for several weeks. Milt’s daughter Lauretta loaned me many items from the archive and worked closely with me for several years. I did many hours of interviews with Peg’s cousin Helen Reid, who was 19 when Peg died and was with her that last day in 1932. I found Peg doing radio, at the White House, having a scheduled performance for the President of the United States, spending a summer of stock with Bogart, writing articles and dozens of more heretofore unknown or forgotten facts about Peg. I discovered the truth of why Peg’s role in RKO’s “Thirteen Women” was reduced from 16 of the first 22 minutes down to 4…”
The definitive biography also features many of Peg Entwistle’s own words from extant letters to her family and newly discovered interviews with theatrical reporters. Nearly 30 previously unpublished images from the author’s collection, the Entwistle family, and a number of other sources complete an intimate look at a life that was defined by far more than its famously unhappy end.
Peg Entwistle Hollywood Sign Girl.
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Bette Davis, après-ski?
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Diamonds are a girl’s best friend… Bette Davis
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Kissing your hand may make you feel very good but a diamond bracelet lasts forever — Anita Loos
It would be strange if I turn out to be an authoress. I mean at my home near Little Rock, Arkansas, my family all wanted me to do something about my music. Because all of my friends said I had talent and they all kept after me and kept after me about practising. But some way I never seemed to care so much about practising. I mean I simply could not sit for hours and hours at a time practising just for the sake of a career. So one day I got quite tempermental and threw the old mandolin clear across the room and I have really not touched it since. But writing is different because you do not have to practise and it is more tempermental because practising seems to take all the temperment out of me…
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, by Anita Loos
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Diamonds are a girl’s best friend — talk to me, Harry Winston, tell me all about it! Marilyn Monroe
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What the Mister said about engagement rings… Don’t be conned by De Beers
Keeping that in mind I tried to quell my excitement about seeing the work of master artisans: Van Cleef & Arpels, but something happened when those spotlights in the museum hit the jewels and they didn’t just glisten and glitter, they blazed and dazzled and drew me…
Turns out I am distracted by bright, shiny, objects.
Can you blame me?
And I, like Lorelei Lee, much prefer bracelets to rings, anyhow.
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A kiss on the hand might be quite continental but diamonds are a girls best friend – Grace Kelly and Cary Grant – happy 110th to the immortal Mr. Grant
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While I’m waiting for the publishers, I’ll just gab…
You know, this thing struck me about blogging recently… It’s made me have more faith in people, not less. I’ve always been the kind of person who tends toward suspicion, even as a child. I remember going to work with my father one day, I think I was about twelve, another executive had brought his little boy, he was about half my size. It was a more trusting time, but I wasn’t a trusting child.
I remember walking around the studio holding his hand in mine and feeling responsible for him. We were walking down halls and in and out of offices, and drafting rooms, and saying hello and moving on. Most of the people we came across were chatty and in groups and (I think) happy to see the rare child in their midst. But then we walked into an office where a man sat all by himself. (And no, babies, it wasn’t Woody Allen.) He seemed too interested in us, too talkative, and wanted to show us something which I remember politely declining, and propelling my little friend away from him, and dragging him down the hallway as fast as I could. We got on the elevator and I took my small friend directly back to my father’s office. I think we had ice cream in the commissary afterward. Everything was fine. The man in the office hadn’t said anything inappropriate, he just made the hair on the back of neck rise.
I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just never trusted guys who wear corduroy jackets.
Anyway, back to the point. Beside the various obvious dark alleys of the Internet and places I shouldn’t, and don’t, stray into… This has been a positive, a more than positive experience. It’s astonishing how good people are, and how willing to befriend, and anxious to communicate. I love it here.
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I’d like to kiss ya but I just washed my hair
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Best Actress in a leading role, Dangerous, Jezebel, Bette Davis
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The atmosphere is very MacBeth-ish…what has, or is about to, happen?
I had a digital-checkup this past week. Why, there are so many platforms on which to perch that it’s enough to make you go stark staring mad (uttered by one Holden Caufield in “The Catcher in the Rye” but, first seen in English literature in 1693, however, I digress.) With a little coaching from more enlightened creatures I could see this wide world of data as a PR dream, so many perches, so many places to promote the book, all free, except for the time, the tons of time, required to conjure up content.
I wrote my first tweet, well, it was in response to one of my favorite denizens of WordPress, The Old Marlovian | Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by his heart, and his friends can only read the title.
He did me a solid, tweeting about my book and I… Before we go on, I just need to repeat that phase in The Old Marlovian’s tagline, “Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by his heart, and his friends can only read the title.” That line was composed by Virginia WooIf, think it still stands? I’m not quite sure… At any rate, tweeting, hm — don’t think I’ve really gotten the hang of it. As a matter of fact, this week, post Academy Awards I believe I’ve taken a turn toward the slightly bitter and am flapping my pages open for everyone to read. Behold:
Here’s the dealio, I think these multiple platforms might fragment the message. Because, you see, there’s no room for background. The background is a few nephews write computer games, and when I joked with them about coming up with something based on the novel, they tacitly reminded me, their Auntie V, that I am both old and archaic.
So, before I embed the widget on this page that links to Instagram and Twitter this old bird is going to do a little practicing, a little polishing, and a little refining of my social network niceties.
And I might remind two perfectly adorable, wildly handsome, young men that it was their Auntie V who let them watch “The Little Mermaid” for the 112th time and spirited them away for milkshakes, fries, and hamburgers when they were supposed to be eating tofu and carrot sticks.
As for the book and the multiple platforms and the self-promotion, I just keep reminding myself of the immortal words of Ariel: You’re not getting cold fins now, are you?
Although, you know Margo is much closer to my heart:
Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.
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