Some notes on my Louise Brooks presentation at the Rudolph Valentino Memorial

One week ago, on Friday August 23, I delivered the keynote address at the 92nd Rudolph Valentino Memorial Service at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Hollywood, California. Despite a technical glitch which delayed my talk by a minute or two, things went well. Returning to my seat, noted author and film historian Jeffrey Vance told me "good job." I was pleased. The memorial was a moving experience and a memorable event. I hope those who couldn't attend the event in person watched it online as it streamed live over Facebook. (I am not sure how many watched it this year, but last year more than 4000 people from around the world tuned-in to the event!)

(Left) At the Hollywood Forever Cemetery  (Right) My wife and I at Valentino's crypt shortly before the service

My talk focused on Rudolph Valentino and Louise Brooks, and their little known "history." I shared some rare material on the two actors - including audio material few if anyone alive has heard. As event organizer and host Tracy Terhune said afterword, it was great to hear a first hand account of Valentino in the voice of someone who was there.

(Left) Preparing for the event (Right) The Memorial program

My power point presentation pointed out what the two silent films stars had in common, and that fact that these two Jazz Age personalities did know one another - if only in passing. We know, for   example, that Brooks encountered Valentino - or at least observed him - from afar at parties and social gatherings. She said as much to author Jan Wahl, a friend and correspondent later in life. As I mentioned, Brooks once told Wahl she had observed a neglected Valentino at a party at Gloria Swanson's house in Englewood, New Jersey. Swanson had thrown the party in Rudy’s honor, and even imported a parquet floor for the night so Valentino could dance the tango. According to Brooks, Valentino had a sallow complexion and sat at the bottom of the stairs, unnoticed. My guess is that party must have taken place shortly before Valentino's death.

Brooks was filming in NYC on the day Valentino died, and as I discovered a number of years ago, she attended Valentino's funeral mass. According to the New York Morning Telegraph, Brooks was among the select mourners at this invitation only event. The newspaper singled her out, stating she had “cried unashamed.”

As I also noted, Brooks continued to remember Rudy as the years passed. We know, for example, that in 1938 Brooks went to a revival screening of The Sheik at the Filmarte theatre on Vine Street in Los Angeles. Valentino was also among the personalities from her younger days who are recounted in the notebooks she began keeping later in life.

In 1962, Brooks was living a quiet life in Rochester, New York. She was considered something of a minor celebrity around town, having once been a “movie star.” A local radio station asked the one-time actress to talk about the personalities she had known in Hollywood. Recordings of those programs were long thought lost, if in fact, they were ever put on tape. Last year, however, I uncovered the audio tapes of Brooks’ unedited commentary, and I concluded my talk with two brief excerpts in which Brooks spoke of Valentino, including the last time she saw Rudy, just a couple of weeks before his death.Here is a transcribed excerpt of my excerpts:

Louise Brooks: I have a sweet story to tell you what happened just two weeks before he died.... he was there in New York for the opening of his greatest picture. It turned out to be the Son of the Sheik. And one night I was sitting in the Lido, the most fashionable night club in New York. He came in all alone in his beautiful black tails and his white tie, and his beautiful back hair and his dark skin. He came over to our table. I was sitting with Ben Ali Haggin and his girl, who was a great friend of Rudy’s – Rudy had many, many women friends. She was a beautiful red head in sea green [dress].... He said “will you dance?” So she got up and they went to the dance floor and the band stopped the fox trot. They started to tango. And something happened that we’ve seen in movies that is always something unbelievable.... So they began to dance a tango and of course they were perfect. It was exquisite. This red head in green, floating drapery. Everyone sat down.... All the celebrities in New York went there. It was café society at the time. They couldn’t help it. They all sat down and watched. And finally the dance ended. And again the right thing happened. No one applauded. No one said a word. Rudy brought Irene back to our table. Said "thank you very much." And bowed. Then he walked back to the stairs that led up under the exit sign and walked through the black velvet curtain and disappeared. And nobody said anything. An absolute stillness. They had seen something beautiful, beautiful. It really was an exit in a way.

After the event, a small group went to Tracy Terhune's apartment for a Valentino-appropriate lunch of spaghetti and meatballs. Tracy is the organizer of the current memorial service, its Master of Ceremonies, as well as the grandson of actor Max Terhune. Tracy wowed my wife and I with a tour of his apartment and its many Valentino treasures. He also told us of how his grandfather got started in pictures -- thanks to close friend Gene Autrey -- and what he knew about Max Terhune's role as one of the three mesquiteers in Louise Brooks' last film, Overland Stage Raiders (1938), which starred John Wayne. Below is a picture of Tracy and I which shows off just a fraction of his fabulous Valentino collection.