True Confessions: Why I Cheated on Cary Grant with Gilbert Roland

This is my entry in the Hollywood's Hispanic Heritage Blogathon, hosted by the delightful Aurora at Once Upon A Screen. Click here for more fantástico entries.

Can you blame me????

It's Your Lucky Day, Aurora!

My devotion to Mr. Grant is pretty well known. In fact, the hostess of this wonderful blogathon has, from time to time, tried to insert herself into our happy romance (I'm watching you, Aurora). Well, my dear, this is your lucky day. Today I am stepping out on Mr. G and he's all yours for 24 hours. (Oh, and by the way, he's cool with this, so enjoy).

I try very hard not to let an artist's personal story influence my ability to appreciate their art. For example, I don't think I'd like to share a confined space with Woody Allen, but I sure do like his films. I might not want Joan Crawford inspecting the cleanliness of my home, but, wow, I pretty much plotz over the lady on screen. And, look, I know there are some things that are just over the line, but let's not go there today. Let's just stay with this train of thought and not go off the tracks.

It took me a little while to zero in on the charms of Gilbert Roland. I think I first became aware of him as an older, but very handsome, actor who appeared in supporting roles. He always seemed to be around and, for some reason, I was very happy to see him whenever and wherever he showed up, both in movies and on TV. And then there was this:

I was pretty gaga over Jane Russell a few years ago (still am), so I checked out "The French Line" and saw a younger version of that handsome Hispanic fellow, Gilbert Roland. He was a hottie! As Jane's french suitor (crooning "Wait Till You See Paris" in a creamy, dreamy baritone), he knocked my socks off, leading to that brain-throb well known to classic films fans as MUST KNOW MORE! (By the way, TCM, YouTube and Google are known antidotes: prior to these, only the Public Library and late night TV provided any relief).

So, I learned all about the handsome Mr. Roland. Born Luis Antonio Dámaso de Alonso in Mexico, he made his way(via Texas) to Hollywood at a time when the Valentino Latin-Lover type was in vogue. Luis became Gilbert Roland (allegedly the name is a combination of stars John Gilbert and Ruth Roland) and quickly worked his way up from extra to leading man. Apparently, his good looks were not lost on the ladies. One of his first big breaks came as Clara Bow's co-star in "The Plastic Age" (1925). He and Clara, both only 20 years old, became engaged, but their youth and Clara's bigoted creep of a father put the kibosh on the romance. He later had a flaming romance with Norma Talmadge (his co-star in "Camille") that set tongues wagging and enraged her husband, mogul Joseph Schenck (apparently Schenck threatened to castrate Roland, who then took to parading around in the buff at his club to demonstrate the empty threat).

Norma Talmadge fell for her Armand in "Camille"

Gilbert Roland survived the talkies and continued acting, mostly in large supporting roles, until 1982. A few of my favorites are  "The Bullfighter and the Lady" (1951), "The Bad and the Beautiful" (1952) and the crazy "Call Her Savage" (1931) with former flame, Clara Bow. He made a few films in the 1930s with Constance Bennett, who he married in 1941. While still married to Connie and while serving in the military during WWII, he apparently had a very secret affair with Greta Garbo (can you blame her?) This only came to light after Roland's death when a pair of GG's silk panties were found in his possession. Such a sentimental man!

Glamorous couple Constance Bennett and Gilbert Roland

Yes, Gilbert Roland was handsome and sexy, but he seemed to be more than that. There is something kind and compassionate about him in every performance, something that makes you feel as though he would be a loyal, caring friend. So, imagine how wonderful to learn that he was exactly that in real life. After divorcing Constance Bennett, he married again and remained married to the same woman for 40 years until his death in 1994. He was known as "Amigo" and that seemed a perfect nickname for him.

Clara Bow and Gilbert Roland at the height of their romance

One of my favorite stories about Gilbert Roland is one about a letter written to Clara Bow many, many years after their affair. Clara, who had suffered with mental illness and much unhappiness, held on to this precious correspondence from a former lover but a forever friend:

Hello, Clarita Girl:

I am truly sad that you don't feel well. Sometimes when I go to church and I think of you, I say a prayer. It will be heard. God hears everything.

You tell me that you long for your boys. I share your feelings. My daughters are with their mother in Wiesbaden, Germany. And there is nothing I can do, except cry a little once in a while.

I hope someday they show "The Plastic Age." It would be wonderful to see that dancing scene, you and I. It would be pleasant seeing how I looked when I was your beau and you were my dream girl. It would be pleasant seeing that. And then it might be very beautiful, and suddenly it might be very sad.

It seems you are in my thoughts.

It's good to feel that way.

It's good I have never forgotten you.

God bless you.

Gilbert 

For more about their brief affair but lasting friendship, click here.

So, for my money, Gilbert Roland was more than just a Latin Lover. He was the real deal - handsome and virile and truly, truly a gentleman and good person.

Aurora, enjoy your day with Cary. I will be back......

The Bennett Sisters: It Runs in the Blood

No - not THOSE Bennett sisters. No pride and prejudice here. More like glamour, sophistication, scandal and men.  So take that Elizabeth, Jane, Mary, Catherine and Lydia, and while we are at it Kim, Khloe and whatever, too. These sister ruled the Hollywood scene during the 1930s and 1940s and made all others who walked in their wake look ordinary.

Constance, Joan and Barbara Bennett: already cast in their roles

Mom and Dad: Richard Bennett and Adrienne Morrison

Richard Bennett and Adrienne Morrison

Our sisters came from a grand theatrical family.While not quite the Barrymores, Papa Bennett was quite a character, as well as a highly successful actor on stage and, later, screen.

A whole article could be devoted to Richard Bennett, he was that interesting, but the short story is that, by the late 1890s he had decided it was the actor's life for him and by the early 1900s he was a star on Broadway. He later gave silent films a run (acting and directing) and, at an advanced age, sound films, as well. You may know him from his role as Major Amberson in Orson Welles' The Magnificent Ambersons (1942). He was a man of great wit and keen observation (calling the movie business not an industry, but a madhouse).

Adrienne Morrison was Richard's second wife and the mother of Constance, Barbara and Joan. While her success as an actress was marginal, she, too came from a theatrical family. She and Richard were married for 22 years and divorced in 1925. Both went on to wed again.

Constance

Constance Bennett, the oldest of the three sisters, was born in 1905 and, in between having a glamorous off-screen life, established herself first as a beautiful flapper, later as a beautiful pre-code honey and lastly as a beautiful comedienne. Through it all, she was just too busy for Hollywood.

She followed her father out to Hollywood in 1921 and her connections and beauty quickly landed her some important roles, most notably with Joan Crawford in 1925's Sally, Irene and Mary. Her career was going well, but Connie chucked it all to marry millionaire Philip Plant in 1926. Her contract with Metro was terminated.

The marriage didn't work out, so Connie was back in Hollywood, but she seemed to have an ulterior motive. Instead of returning to her metro (who had first dibs on her services), she signed with Pathe. This was most likely due to the influence of one of its executives, the Marquis  de la Falasie (soon to be Gloria Swanson's ex Connie's next husband).Throughout the early 30s she starred in a series of wrong-side-of-the-road romances (many times with Joel McCrea, that lucky wench). She made a lasting mark in the great What Price Hollywood? (1932) as the Brown Derby waitress whose story was surely the precursor to A Star is Born. Her own star wanted in the later 1930s (largely due to her boredom with Hollywood), but she got in a few good roles (notable Topper (1937) in and Merrily We Live (1938) in ) before settling into some B roles. She worked tirelessly during World War II for refugees and even found time to do radio work, lend her name to a line of cosmetics and fashion and even marry Gilbert Roland (1941-1946) and have 2 children with him.

A glamorous couple: Constance Bennett and hubby Gilbert Roland

Connie was always the last word in elegance and sophistication. Here she shows you how to be beautiful (doesn't everyone wake up looking like this?)

Her last film was "Madame X" (1961) alongside Lana Turner and there are some funny stories about how Lana was a little miffed that Connie was slimmer and could pass as her older sister, not mother.

This woman rocked it to the end and I love her.

Joan

Joan was a natural blonde

In 1941 Cole Porter's lyrics to Let's Face It included these pithy lines:

Let's talk of Lamarr, that Hedy so fair, 
Why does she let Joan Bennett wear all her old hair?

If ever an actress' career was defined by her hair color, it was Joan Bennett. Born in 1910, the youngest of the sisters followed daddy and big sister out to Hollywood in the late 1920s. But this was not before she had eloped at age 16 with the son of a millionaire (sensing a theme her with these girls?). Naturally, the marriage was a bust, so she hiked up her skirts and joined the family business.

Throughout the early 30s she was the personification of blonde innocence. Her role as Amy in 1934's "Little Women" brought her to the attention of future husband, producer Walter Wanger. Wanger would be her 3rd husband, as she was married to screenwriter Gene Markey in between the millionaire's son and Wanger. In 1938 she put on a brunette wig for "Trade Winds" and suddenly the world took notice.

With Fredric March in "Trade Winds."
She does look like Hedy Lamarr, doesn't she?

With a change of hair color the dainty little blonde (who was considered for the role of Scarlett O'Hara) turned into an actress of substance. Her status as film noir goddess was sealed with 2 Fritz Lang classics: 1944's "The Woman in the Window," and 1946's "Scarlet Street."

Joan shows how noir is done

Joan kept on working, touring in stage plays and acting in films until scandal erupted in 1951. While Joan was having a chat in a parking lot with her agent, Jennings Lang, Wanger, who had been following them, shot Lang in the thigh and groin. He admitted to jealously (although Joan & Lang denied an affair, it is not clear if they were being totally candid) and served a 4-month prison sentence. Joan and Wanger reconciled and remained married until 1965, when they divorced.

Joan married again and continued her career. She seemed to be the one Bennett who like to work, continuing to appear on stage and on TV, eventually winning an Emmy Award nomination for her work in the cult daytime soap, "Dark Shadows."

Barbara

Barbara Bennett: One of these things is not like the others

It's not easy being the middle child. Poor Barbara Bennett. In a normal family, she might have had a chance. But, with a father who was a lion of the stage and 2 sisters who were world famous for their talent and beauty, Barbara Bennett (born in 1906) had no choice but to showcase her talents off-stage. Unfortunately, her talent was for dramatics, usually of the emotional kind.

As a young dancer who landed in New York from Kansas, Louise Brooks was lucky enough to be taken under Barbara's wing. From her, she got a first hand view of the Bennett clan (dad rarely rose before noon, Constance was too busy to pay attention to the Kansas native - though she gave her good advice concerning clothes, and little Joan always seemed to have her nose in a book). Barbara generously opened doors for young Louise.

Louise Brooks owed her job in the Scandals to friend Barbara Bennett

Barbara's influence got Brooks a job in George White's Scandals and the 2 remained friends. According to Brooks, Barbara made a career of her emotions. Not as beautiful or talented as her sisters, she struggled to find her place in the world.

Things seemed to have turned in Barbara's favor when she married singer Morton Downey in 1929. They had 5 children (one of them talk-show host Morton Downey, Jr.) and their marriage seemed to be a happy one.

Mr. & Mrs. Morton Downey

However, things were apparently not what they seemed. Around 1940, Louise introduced Barbara to Addison Randall, a B Cowboy star she had been dating. Barbara apparently went gaga over Randall and left her family. Downey crucified her in court and Barbara lost custody of her 5 children. She and Randall married in 1941, but life was never easy for Barbara Bennett. As a result of an accident while filming a western, Randall suffered an injury and died in 1945. Barbara married again, but, in 1958, committed suicide. Said friend Louise Brooks:

"Only her death, in 1958, achieved in her fifth suicide attempt, could be termed a success."

Hollywood Loves Sisters

Constance and Joan Bennett

Hollywood has always loved sisters. Besides the Talmadges, there were Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine and those gorgeous Gabors. But there was something special about those Bennet girls. Constance and Joan, besides being talented and beautiful, had that special sophistication of the theater about them (thanks for mom and dad) and, through their long and separate career, never had a public fight. 

Clara Bow and Gilbert Roland: Brief Romance, Lasting Tenderness

I am hoping that someday a movie will be made about the life of Clara Bow. Not a trashy version based on scandals, but an insightful depiction of a life filled with enough tragedy and heartbreak to give those Greeks a run for their money. God knows this poor woman was exploited  enough in her lifetime, so one can only hope that the real drama of her life would suffice and she would be treated with kindness and respect.

The "It Girl": flappers, speakeasies and hooch in a flask

Unfortunately, kindness and respect were two things that Clara rarely encountered. Raised by a mentally unstable mother who tried to kill her and emotionally chained to a monster of a father who abused her in more ways than one, Clara was desperate for love, but, unguided, ran wild through the Roaring Twenties in Hollywood. Her youthful errors and unsophisticated Brooklyn background made her a target of the press. Her employer, Paramount, used her up and abandoned her. By 26 she was done. Mental and/or emotional illness followed and she lived out the rest of her life as a virtual recluse.

David Stenn's Bow biography, "Runnin' Wild," tells Clara's story with great compassion. Known for the many men in her life (Gary Cooper, Victor Fleming, Harry Richman, and husband Rex Bell to name a few), there is one story of a romantic encounter that stands out and touches my heart: her romance and engagement to actor Gilbert Roland.

Gilbert Roland (born Luis Antonio Dámaso de Alonso in Mexico) thought me might become a bullfighter like his father, but instead tried his hand at acting (his rechristened name being a combo of John Gilbert and Ruth Roland). He was gorgeous and the fact that he barely spoke English didn't matter in the days of silent films. He and Clara met when both were filming The Plastic Age in  1925. Based on a "banned in Boston" novel, The Plastic Age tells the story of those wild college kids of the 20s who do things that would make their parents blush.

Beautiful Clara and beautiful Gilbert, both 20 years old, soon became romantically involved. Clara later described Roland as her "first really big love experience." Young Budd Schulberg, son of producer B.P. Schulberg, was befriended by Clara on the film and recalled the blossoming romance when Roland handed him a note to pass to Clara:

The young lovers of "The Plastic Age"

"I don't know what was in the note because I was too conscientious to read it, especially when I could feel his strong Latin eyes drilling into my back as I caught up with Clara and delivered it. She mumbled 'Oh, thanks, Buddy, sweet of ya,' and took a quick glance over her shoulder at the young bullfighter turned actor. That evening they came into the local hotel dining room together, two head-turning twenty-year-olds whom my father had put together from such totally different worlds - Chihuahua and Brooklyn."

Roland was rugged, but sweet and both shared social insecurities: his because of his limited ability to speak English at that point and hers from a general lack of self-esteem that plagued her throughout her life. "We was real happy," said Clara, "sorta like two youngsters that didn't know what [life] was all about and was scared t'death of it." Bow's monster dad hated Roland because he was Mexican and Catholic (calling him a "greasy Mexican"), but her possessive father hated any man that came near his daughter.

Young Love

Clara and her bullfighter continued to have an ardent relationship for a time, but Clara was the girl of the moment and she could not resist the temptation of the attention of Victor Fleming and socialite Robert Savage who tried to commit suicide when Clara rejected him. When the press called Clara on the carpet for her dalliance with Savage she had a great comment:

"Well, lemme tell ya this. When a man attempts suicide over a woman, he don't cut his wrists with a safety razor blade, then drape himself over a couch with a cigarette between his lips. No, they don't do it that way. They use pistols."

Nevertheless, Clara's wandering ways and Roland's jealousy put an end to the youthful romance, but both remembered one another fondly for the rest of their days. She chose Roland as her costar in one of her last films, the successful Call her Savage. Many years after Clara's career had ended and she was living in seclusion, Roland was one of the few people she allowed to visit her. "Still handsome and still my favorite actor," she said. They spoke regularly and this one letter illustrates why Clara never shut him out of her life:

Hello, Clarita Girl:

I am truly sad that you don't feel well. Sometimes when I go to church and I think of you, I say a prayer. It will be heard. God hears everything.

You tell me that you long for your boys. I share your feelings. My daughters are with their mother in Wiesbaden, Germany. And there is nothing I can do, except cry a little once in a while.

I hope someday they show "The Plastic Age." It would be wonderful to see that dancing scene, you and I. It would be pleasant seeing how I looked when I was your beau and you were my dream girl. It would be pleasant seeing that. And then it might be very beautiful, and suddenly it might be very sad.

It seems you are in my thoughts.

It's good to feel that way.

It's good I have never forgotten you.

God bless you.

                                                                Gilbert

Could you have ever parted with a letter like that?

After Clara, Roland went on to romance Norma Talmadge and marry Constance Bennett (the mother of his two children). After divorcing Bennett, he wed again and remained married to the same woman for 40 years (until his death). Known as "Amigo," he was indeed a loyal friend to a fragile woman who was his "dream girl."

Clara Bow & Gilbert Roland in "Call Her Savage"