New York Timeline (1915)

Late15_early16
Bonnie Glass photographed in 1915.

I don’t know why, but the years Rudolph Valentino spent in and around New York, from 1913 to 1917, fascinate me. Forty two or so months crammed with incident; six months of which are, apparently, an impenetrable void. I’ve already looked at his first weeks in: New York Timeline (1913). And his first full year in: New York Timeline (1914). So it’s now time to look at the following year. A period when it all appears to have gone well for him. Like the others, this post is titled: New York Timeline (1915).

January

Rodolfo Guglielmi, now known, professionally, as Rudolph, begins the year in the same pursuit he ended the previous one: dancing with Bonnie Glass. While he’s happy to have been able to turn his back on being a dancer for hire, at Maxim’s, he soon discovers that his new occupation isn’t, in any-way-shape-or-form, an easy one. The first weeks of 1915 are filled with gruelling rehearsals, followed by a nerve-wracking performance at the Winter Garden Theatre, and then nightly dancing with Glass, at her own establishment, Cafe Montmartre.

Jan3rd1915

the 3rd

Rudy, titled Mons. Rudolph, assists Bonnie at Rectors, on Broadway, at 48th Street. Also listed as performing that evening, at New York’s Greatest Restaurant Attraction, are ‘The Marvellous Millers’ The World’s Greatest Whirlwind Dancers, and Mudge and Terantino.

the 4th to the 23rd

During these days – it’s unknown when – the Rectors deal ends and the Cafe Boulevard deal begins. Preparations for the new venue are intensive.

WGT
The Winter Garden Theatre in 1915.

the 24th

On Sunday, the 24th of January, the pair are amongst “17 acts”, at the Winter Garden Theatre, 1634 Broadway, Manhattan. One of “two modern dancing turns” – Clifton Webb and Eileen Molyneux are the other couple – they perform two dances. One, a Cakewalk (seemingly stolen from Mr. and Mrs. Seabury, according to Sime, reviewing for VARIETY), and another, which is “similar”. Their “opening music” is [The] Glow Worm. While their slot, is the penultimate one, right before the Headliner, Al Jolson. Jolson entertains the capacity crowd for 40 minutes, with four songs and several stories, and much silly and hilarious behaviour.

That same day newspapers report that the Cafe Boulevard grille will soon be opened as Cafe Montmartre. And: “Miss Glass will dance after the theatre nightly with her partner, Rudolph.”

Variety300115

the 27th

On Wednesday, the 27th of January, after several weeks of preparations, Bonnie and ‘Rudolph’ appear, for the first time, at her new venture Cafe Montmarte, formerly the grille of Cafe Boulevard, at Broadway and 41st Street. The establishment has received a great deal of advance press attention due to it supposedly featuring an innovation — a female only bar.

Bonnie_Glass

Bonnie Glass was A Woman With A Past. Back in July 1910, while still Miss Helen C. Roche, she’d been named as ‘corespondent’, in the divorce of Mr. and Mrs. John H. Kimball. (Mr Kimball was a “young broker”.) Half a year later, at the start of 1911, while employed as a Hat Model, at Roxbury, Massachusetts, she eloped with a Harvard Senior, named Graham Glass Jr. Their quickie marriage was not looked upon favourably by the Groom’s wealthy parents. And, after his allowance was slashed to $5 a month, the marriage foundered, ending in divorce that December. During the next eighteen months it appears she moved to New York, renamed herself Bonnie Glass, and was at some point in the Zeigfeld Follies. By the end of 1913, she was being mentioned in THE NEW YORK CLIPPER, as being in a double act, with Lew Quinn. And, at the same time, was dancing with him at “Murray’s on 42nd Street”, for which they were receiving, presumably as a team, $500 per week. The next year, she built on her success, and first with Al. Davis, and then Clifton Webb, became an extremely important Exhibition Dancer.

Cafe Boulevard Inc. was in financial trouble at the start of 1915. And so I imagine the deal between Glass, and the owners, was something of an effort to modernise the venue, and bring in new and more fashionable customers.

The competitor establishments and competitor dancers at this time were: Chez Maurice, formerly Palais de Danse, Broadway and 50th Street, featuring Maurice (Mouvet) and Florence Walton; Castles in the Air, atop the 44th Street Theatre, featuring Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Castle; and the Persian Garden, at Broadway and 50th Street, featuring Ida Adams and Nigel Barrie.

February

Throughout the month, newspaper adverts inform New York’s populace, that the Cafe Montmartre is open for business. Every Thursday there’s a theme. On Thursday the 11th of February, there’s a Costume Dance, with prizes for “artistic costumes and graceful dancing”. The following Thursday the theme is Mephisto with “SPECIAL FEATURES”.

the 22nd and the 23rd

On Monday the 22nd, and Tuesday the 23rd of February, Glass and Guglielmi dance at B. F. Keith’s Colonial Theatre, at Broadway and 62nd Street. Bonnie appears with Rudy and another gentleman, at the 1,300 seat Music Hall style venue, and they’re supported by a “colored orchestra”. Glass’s facial expressions don’t impress in the same way her outfits do. (The second male partner is named simply: Casemello.)

February1915

the 25th

At Cafe Montmartre on the last Thursday of the month, Bonnie, assisted once again by Rudolph, dances a special exhibition dance.

It’s probable that the two appearances at the Colonial Theatre were part of a week long engagement.

1915

March

March is an interesting month. After briefly being, Montmartre at Cafe Boulevard, the name is for some unknown reason dropped completely, and the pair are performing daily at Cafe Boulevard. Then it’s announced Glass may take over the Persian Room in “the Winter Garden Building”. Next, Bonnie Glass’s, Bonnie Glass & Co., obviously including Rudy, is engaged to perform during the afternoon, at B. F. Keith’s Orpheum Theatre. And much else happens besides.

Screenshot (2544)

the 13th

Following advertisements on the 9th and on the 11th, the one in the New York Tribune, on Saturday the 13th, for Cafe Boulevard, is the final one to feature Bonnie Glass assisted by Rudolph. The recent name changes – Cafe Montmartre to Montmartre to nothing – are a clue that all hasn’t been going too well recently between Glass and Cafe Boulevard, Inc.

Mar13th

Another advert, that same day, on Page Two of BROOKLYN LIFE, reveals that, from the following Monday, the 15th, Bonnie Glass, assisted by Rudolph and E. Casemello, will be doing matinee dances.

Palace

the 15th

On Monday the 15th of March, after their afternoon slot at the Orpheum, Bonnie and Rudy dance (at short notice) in the evening, at B. F. Keith’s Palace Theatre, when the regular performer is unavailable. Miss Glass closes the bill that night with “a series of modern dances”. In her final number she introduces two male partners (Rudolph and Casemello), which is considered, by Wynn, reviewing for VARIETY that week, to be “out of the ordinary”. For Wynn, Glass has improved since her debut the previous season. However, the reviewer feels that modern dancing is: “… gradually losing its vaudeville claims…” And Glass seemed “a bit tardy.” (She was probably a little tired.)

Contest

the 19th

On Friday the 19th of March, after performing at the Orpheum Theatre, Bonnie and Rudolph take park in a Cakewalk contest, at the New York Roof. The venue is very busy; their opponents are Dave Genaro and Ada Portser (the resident dancers it seems); and the competition judges are: Dave Montgomery, Frank Tinney and Dazie. The crowd are behind Genaro and Portser, but the three judges aren’t as certain. Eventually, however, they decide the winners are the residents, and the guest dancers the losers.

the 29th

On Monday the 29th of March, Bonnie Glass & Co. perform a “fancy routine” of “modern ballroom steps” at a particularly busy Palace Theatre, at Broadway and 47th Street. (The show was described as a Big Sunday Concerts on the 27th.)

As adverts this month show, Bonnie Glass, and her assistant Monsieur Rudolph, are under the direction of, or management of, a Mr. Myron S. Bentham; a very powerful and well-known theatrical agent at the time. Why Bentham – in February, he’d been involved in a serious punch-up, on Broadway, with rival Max Hart – is so forgotten is a bit of a mystery. His brief obituary, in THE FINAL CURTAIN, in The Billboard, on the 3rd of April, 1948, clearly states he was Valentino’s Agent. As well as also taking care of: Irene Bordoni, Ina Claire, Laurette Taylor, Helen Morgan, Alice Brady, Leon Errol, Mary Eaton and W. C. Fields.

The fact that Bonnie and Rudy and E. Casemello were performing, at the Orpheum Theatre, in Brooklyn, raises the question: were they travelling there each day, or resident, somewhere, locally, during the engagement? Sadly there’s no answer to this question.

Keith
B. F. Keith.

April

In April – almost the entire month it seems – Bonnie Glass & Co. have no engagements. Until, that is, the final week, when they perform at B. F. Keith’s Theatre, at Boston. Bonnie’s troupe is promoted as: “The Cleverest of Society Dancers and Tangoists!” And the offer is described as: “… a Cycle of Dances, Assisted by Cafe Boulevard Orchestra Seated Upon the Stage!”

the 26th

On Monday, the 26th of April, Bonnie Glass and Mons. Rudolph appear at B. F. Keith’s Theatre, at Boston.

Scan697
Rudy and Bonnie sometime in 1915. Possibly at Boston.

the 27th

The next day THE BOSTON GLOBE newspaper tells readers that: “Much applauded were the sprightly dances of Bonnie Glass, who tripped the latest wrinkles in the changing art, while an orchestra played on the stage.”

the 28th, 29th and 30th

Daily newspaper adverts show that Bonnie Glass & Co. perform daily for the delight of audiences at B. F. Keith’s Theatre.

May1915
Bonnie in the press with her Hound in May.

May

Through no fault of his own, Rudolph finds himself idle in May, due to the involvement of Bonnie in the Eugenia Kelly Scandal. The Boston engagement only just extends into the new month, however it seems he lingered there, before heading back to New York. A major development for him, and his family back in Italy, is the entry of the country into The Great War, on the side of The Triple Entente (Russia, France and Great Britain), on the 23rd.

the 1st

Advertisements confirm that ‘Mons. Rudolph’ continues to assist Bonnie at the B. F. Keith Theatre in Boston. However, no further ones suggest this was their final, or penultimate performance. (Making it a six or seven day stretch.)

the 2nd to the 21st

Due to his correspondence with his mother, and the timing of their respective messages, it appears that Rudy stayed at Boston after the engagement at the B. F. Keith Theatre was concluded. How long isn’t known.

the 22nd

On Saturday, the 22nd of May, 19-year-old Heiress, Eugenia Kelly (at the time estranged from her widowed Mother), appears in court in Manhattan. Arrested the previous night, by a Private Detective, at Penn. Station, and then released on bail, she’s charged with Incorrigibility. During the subsequent hearing, all sorts of embarrassing details emerge about the young woman’s behaviour, in the cabarets and dance halls of New York. How her enjoyment of cigarettes, late hours and wine, has driven a wedge between them, and led to Eugenia leaving to live with her sister. That her weekly allowance of $75 – almost $2,000 today – is, regularly, her mother testifies, wasted on “a coterie of men”. That her daughter had, so far, borrowed $5,000 from “loan brokers”. And that a string of pearls and diamonds that was a gift had gone missing. Under cross-examination, Mrs. Kelly is forced to admit that, she, too, often frequents cabarets and dance halls; that she drinks brandy and other liquors; and she had, on at least one occasion, subjected Miss Kelly to violence. (By slapping her face.)

the 23rd

More details emerge. Eugenia Kelly frequents up to five restaurants and late cafes each night, such as: the Beaux Arts, the Domino Room, [Cafe] Boulevard, the Kaiserhof and Maxim’s. And her “coterie” includes: Al. Davis, [‘Bunny’] Essler, ‘Jimmy’ Greenberg and ‘Dickie’ Warner. (Warner’s the man who invited Rudy to cohabit in 1914 and Davis and Greenberg are both dancers.) At a recent, raucous party, at the Kelly home, one of the gentlemen drank Mrs. Kelly’s brandy. Afterwards, Miss Kelly informed her mother that he was a drug user, and for $15: “… anyone …. could get all the drugs he or she wanted.”

Screenshot (2636)

In other reports it’s disclosed that the person who alerted the mother to her daughter’s behaviour was Bonnie Glass. Who’d telephoned her, to tell her she was consorting with Glass’s former dancing partner, and lover, Al. Davis/Albert J. Davis; a married man, with a young son. (On Tuesday, the 25th, in THE SUN,  it’s reported that an eye-witness, Frank Richards, formerly a Waiter at Reisenweber’s, Bustanoby’s and Murray’s, had seen both Bonnie and Al. arguing with each other about Eugenia.)

Screenshot (2640)

the 24th

On Monday, the 24th of May, the day of the reopening of the case (after adjournment at the weekend after a motion for dismissal was denied), an in-depth interview with Dickie Warner, conducted the previous day, Sunday, is published in the New York Tribune. In it he verifies it was indeed Bonnie Glass “who was in our crowd” that “tipped Ma off”. That it was Ma Kelly who introduced him – Warner – to Eugenia Kelly two years before. And after speaking with Eugenia on the telephone (parts of the conversation on Dickie’s side being included), that: “There are a lot of prominent names to be brought into this thing yet. The whole story has not been told. But this is all I can tell you for now.”

Screenshot (2638)
A lively, interesting cartoon from the 25th. Has anybody here seen Kelly? is added top right.

the 25th

On Tuesday, the 25th of May, after much scandalous detail, the day before, in court, and more threatened, a reconciliation is achieved between mother and daughter. (This will, not surprisingly, prove to be temporary.) Yet the dismissed case will almost immediately spark something of a crack down. And in subsequent days newspapers are filled with further revelations, and details of how the authorities plan to prevent young, and often wealthy women, being targeted by unscrupulous men.

We no longer see E. Casemello as a second dancer in the Bonnie Glass & Co. adverts and reviews from this point.

It’s while he’s in Boston that Rudy writes and sends his mother a postcard, telling her that he’s there for the first time, doing well, and enjoying himself. Late in May he received a postcard from his mother written in French. After a few general lines she unburdens herself about Italy’s entry into the European conflict. Writes of her worries for Jules – a cousin? – and his older brother Alberto. And tells him she often looks at the photograph he’s sent to her of himself. (This is believed to be the only surviving communication from his time in New York.)

The Eugenia Kelly Affair, which predated a similar scandal, the Blanca de Saulles Affair, by a whole year, gives us invaluable insight into Rudy’s environment, in the years 1914 and 1915. Involvement of persons he knew – Glass, Warner, Davis and others – means that the whole thing was very close to him. If, not so close, it turns out, that he himself was involved; as he was to be, in 1916, with Mrs. de Saulles.

June

For the entire month, according to VARIETY, Bonnie and Rudolph are part of the revue, A Midnight Fantasy, at Castles in the Air, on the roof of the 44th Street Theatre.

July

The first half of July seems to be quiet for Rudy. I saw nowhere any engagements for his Employer, Bonnie, or for him, probably due to the heat. Later in the month they begin a spell at B. F. Keith’s Palace Theatre.

Jul25th

the 26th

On Monday, the 26th of July, in the evening, Bonnie and Rudolph perform at B. F. Keith’s Palace Theatre, at Broadway and 47th Street. Their billing is a respectable third, behind Headliner, The International Star of Song, Grace La Rue, and Nat M. Wills, The Happy Tramp. It’s a hot Summer night. So hot, that the theatre is providing free palm leaf fans, and “delicious lemonade”. Bonnie Glass and Mons. Rudolph dance “entertainingly” just before the intermission. Miss La Rue’s repertoire doesn’t impress a critic at VARIETY as much as her “new wardrobe” does.

nypl.digitalcollections.510d47df-1006-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99.001.w
Grace La Rue.

In later years, in My Vaudeville Years, Grace La Rue would reveal how, at about this time, late July/early August, she encountered Rudy backstage all hot and bothered. According to La Rue he constantly mopped his brow and suffered from wilting shirt collars. As there wasn’t a mirror in his dressing room she supplied him with hers. And recalled his telling her: “I am too soft. I haven’t danced enough. And besides, I must lose a little weight.” You can hear Grace singing A Tango Dream, in 1914, here. And there’s an extremely detailed biography on YouTube here.

Might June and July be when Valentino travels to and from Mineola at Long Island to learn to fly? He certainly had enough free time!

NewBrighton

August

After perhaps a fortnight to a month at the Palace Theatre, Bonnie Glass & Co. switch to the New Brighton Theatre, at Coney Island, New York. (See image above.)

the 20th

VARIETY details, on Page Thirteen, that Bonnie Glass & Co. will be performing from the 23rd at the [New]Brighton [Theatre].

the 23rd

On Monday, the 23rd of August, Bonnie and Rudolph begin an engagement of unknown length at the New Brighton Theatre, at Coney Island, New York.

the 28th and the 29th

The Eugenia Kelly Affair bubbles up once more in the press. And Bonnie is mentioned.

September

Rudy’s September of 1915 is a far cry from his September of 1914. He’s earning a good weekly salary. Can afford fine clothes. And is living in pleasant accommodation. It will be a busy four weeks, that see him opposite Bonnie, first in New York, then in Washington. His trip to the capital and back and his stay there being his first.

the 6th

On Monday, 6th of September, Labor Day, Bonnie and Rudolph perform at B. F. Keith’s Colonial Theatre, at Broadway and 62nd Street, as joint “headliners”, alongside: Nat Wills, Howard and McCane and Odiva. It’s a Gala Reopening. And the others on the bill are: (Laura) Burt & (Henry) Stanford, (Geo.) McKay & (Ottie) Ardine, Tower & Darrell, Jim & Betty Morgan, and Ariel Buds.

Keiths

the 20th

“EXTRA ADDED STAR, The Broadway Danseuse Classed With the Castles, Bonnie Glass, Assisted by Mons. Rudolph and Her Famous Sherbo Orchestra” performs at B. F. Keith’s Theatre, in Washington, D. C.

the 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th and 26th

Bonnie and Rudy appear, Monday to Saturday, in the 2:15 and 8:15 p. m. shows. And, Sunday, in the 3:00 and 8:15 p. m. shows. And their slot is in the first half of the show at some point before the intermission. They receive praise, on the 21st, in The Washington PostThe Evening Star and The Washington Herald. The glowing reviews reveal their repertoire is: “… a military dance, an old-fashioned cakewalk …. and a Spanish number.”

the 27th to the 30th

Bonnie Glass & Co. either travel from Washington, D. C., back to New York, New York, or go from Washington D. C. directly to Buffalo, New York, in order to be at Shea’s Theatre there, to rehearse, and be ready to perform early in October. (The 27th to the 4th would be enough time to go back to Manhattan and then head Upstate.)

the 29th

An advertisement in THE BUFFALO EVENING TIMES, alerts citizens to the fact Bonnie Glass will be appearing at Shea’s Theatre, on October 4th. (On this occasion she’ll be the main attraction.)

October

So far, working with Bonnie, has taken Rudy to Boston, to Washington, and now Buffalo. Perhaps he sent another postcard to his mother telling her that he was near the border with Canada. Certainly it was an experience for him to be so far North. The excursion is not followed by any others in October. And the rest of the month is a bit of a blank when it comes to the whereabouts of either Bonnie or Rudolph.

Sheas

the 4th

Bonnie Glass assisted by Mons. Rudolph opens at Shea’s Theatre for a week-long series of afternoon and evening performances.

the 5th

On Tuesday, the 5th of October, a piece in THE BUFFALO EVENING TIMES, praises not only Bonnie, but also Mons. Rudolph and her ten piece orchestra. In the review, titled in capital letters, BONNIE GLASS SCORES TRIUMPH WITH SHEAGOERS, Rudy’s mention goes as follows: “She has brilliant support in Mons. Rudolph, who strives, in an unselfish way, to give all the credit to his fair partner.” (The punctuation is mine.)

Screenshot (2558)

the 7th

In the middle of their week long engagement at Shea’s Theatre, Bonnie Glass’s Sherbo Orchestra can’t resist making a little money on the side. An advert., in THE BUFFALO COMMERCIAL, on Thursday, the 7th (see above), reveals they appear at The Lafayette’s Mahogany Room to accompany dancers there.

November

It’s difficult to see where Rudy is dancing this month — perhaps because he wasn’t. When we look at where Bonnie is we don’t see her performing anywhere. So perhaps she was resting and getting ready for a busy December.

the 4th

A story about Glass, that gives a flavour of the times, appears in the New York Tribune. According to the writer, an admirer of hers: “… has commissioned a Fifth Avenue jeweller to enamel and stud with gems the shell of a small tortoise…” destined to be her pet at: “… her beautiful house in Fifty-second Street.”

the 17th

In his column, New-York-Day-By-Day, in The Washington Herald, O. O. McIntyre writes about the rumour that Vernon Castle and Irene Castle are thinking of retiring from the exhibition dancing sphere. Vernon, McIntyre discloses, heading to Europe to fight by the 1st of January. And Irene, he reveals, planning to: “… spend the winter at their country home near New York.” Bonnie Glass too, he tells the reader, will also be quitting: “… the tango life.” Her own excuse being that she’s planning: “… to marry a very prominent Kentuckian…” (If she was it didn’t happen.)

the 19th

News, in VARIETY, of Bonnie recently importing an Hawaiian Orchestra, from Honolulu, to use “in connection with her dancing.”

Screenshot (2562)

December

Bonnie Glass returns to establishment dancing – at Cabaret Mondain at 121 West 45th Street – for the first time since exiting Cafe Boulevard in the Spring. Rudy, now Signor Rodolfo, dances with her there in the afternoons. In these closing weeks, he looks back on a better year than the previous one. Even if there have been ups and downs he’s become a confident performer. And in the first half of 1916 he’ll become an even more confident and notable performer than he’s been in 1915.

the 5th

On Sunday, the 5th of December, Bonnie and Rodolfo’s dancing, at Cabaret Mondain, is promoted in a column titled WHERE TO DANCE, in THE SUN newspaper.

the 9th

“Miss Bonnie Glass Assisted by Signor Rodolfo” continue to perform at Cabaret Mondain. The host is Mr. A. Nelson Fysher, of Chez Fysher, a famous Parisian cabaret transported to the USA. And Glass is advertised as interpreting Mr. Fysher’s melodies.

the 11th

O. O. McIntyre gives his readers, and us, a great description of Chez Fysher, at Cabaret Mondain, again in his New-York-Day-By-Day column, in The Washington Herald. It is, he writes: “… the new Broadway cabaret deluxe…” A place: “… where racket and rush are tabooed and low lights, lower voices and tender silences obtain.” Mr. Fysher McIntyre explains: “… sings his own songs in French every evening…” And customers dance, drink champagne, smoke cigarettes, and eat chicken sandwiches. Importantly, the fashionable establishment is frequented by serious trendsetters; people like: “… Baron and Baroness de Meyer, Diamond Jim Brady, Miss Amy Gouraud, Mae Murray and Prince Troubetzkoy. (For me this is probably the place that both Murray and Troubetzkoy first encountered Rudy.)

Screenshot (2564)

the 12th to the 30th

We assume, that in this busiest of periods, for restaurants and bars and hotels, etc., that Bonnie Glass and Rodolfo Gugliemi continue to perform at Cabaret Mondain, as part of the Chez Fysher cabaret. This assumption is supported by an ad. in The New York Times, on the 27th, that features an oval image of Glass, and gives details of a THE DANSANT, or Tea Dance, daily, from 4:30 to 6:30 p. m. Miss Glass, it says, is assisted by Rudolph.

the 31st

Bonnie – Beautiful Queen of Rhythmic Flowing Line and Winner of the Palace Medal for Dancing – and Rodolfo end 1915 performing at B. F. Keith’s Colonial Theatre, at Broadway and 62nd Street. The pair head the bill, in ‘DANCES OF THE DAY-AFTER-TOMORROW’, at a place where they were just part of the line-up at the start of the year. Glass is further described in adverts as: Cleverest, Most Fascinating Ballroom Dancer of the Period.

A story appears, in VARIETY, that Bonnie Glass is being considered for the role, currently being played by Madge Kennedy,  in Fair and Warmer. The proposition, from Selwyn & Co., is to try her out, just once, in the original cast, to see if she can be sent on the road in a secondary company. (This doesn’t transpire.)

For me, as with McIntyre’s revelation in November, this seems to indicate unease on the part of Bonnie Glass, against a backdrop of recent reports and reviews which have predicted the end of Exhibition Dancing. We might wonder how Rudy felt about her putting herself forward for other work, or, being considered for it. And where such a move would leave him, if she did indeed secure anything different.


I hope you enjoyed reading this post. As always, the sources are available to anyone who contacts me, if they’re not already embedded into the text, or added as an image. This latest timeline will be followed by others looking at the years 1916 and 1917. And there will be standalone posts for his 1916 arrest and also the missing half year. See you all in September!

Advertisements

The Reel Infatuation Blogathon

Reel Infatuation 2019

My favourite film/TV/book character crush? Well, this being a Blog devoted to Rudolph Valentino, it’s naturally going to be related to him. But which incredible character out of so many? Perhaps Julio Desnoyers in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921)? The portrayal that catapulted him to fame? Or maybe Juan Gallardo in Blood and Sand (1922)? A performance praised by Charlie Chaplin that was also an invention of Vicente Blasco Ibanez? Maybe one of his two defining representations of a Sheik? In either The Sheik (1921) or The Son of the Sheik (1926)? No. No. No. And no. Surprised? Amazed? Well read on, and all will become clear, in: The Reel Infatuation Blogathon (June 7th to 9th, 2019).

On His Fame Still Lives this October I’ll be posting about A Sainted Devil (1924). Writing about this lost Valentino spectacular, for Famous Players-Lasky/Paramount, has required me to research very deeply. And, naturally, that research involved reading, in its entirety, the basis for the film: the Rex Beach short story Rope’s End. A tale the like of which I’ve never read before; featuring, at its heart, a personality like none I’ve ever encountered. However, before we tackle not just the sensational story, but also the equally sensational protagonist that lives and breathes on the pages, we need to pause, briefly, and see what was going on in the life of Rudolph Valentino.

By the Summer of 1921, after less than twelve months, Valentino had moved on from the pre M-G-M Metro Pictures Corp., the studio that had made him a Star, to Famous Players-Lasky/Paramount. At his new studio, where he became a Superstar, in The Sheik (1921), and was then utilised, in quick succession, in Moran of the Lady Letty (1922), Beyond the Rocks (1922), Blood and Sand (1922), and The Young Rajah (1922), he became seriously dissatisfied. His dissatisfaction arising from a combination of: low salary, several broken promises, and a general lack of control and poor material.

What followed was his extended One Man Strike; which lasted a whole year, from 1922 to 1923. A twelve month spell, when, prevented from appearing in any motion picture, he danced his way across the US with his second wife, promoting Mineralava beauty products; published an exercise book and a collection of poems; and even attempted, unsuccessfully, to become a singer. By the Summer of 1923, however, he’d reached a settlement with his employer. And, after a lengthy trip to Europe, followed by another, briefer one, he returned to work at the start of the next year, in an ambitious adaptation of Monsieur Beaucaire. (A short 1900 novel by Booth Tarkington.)

TheRoyalPortrait
Rudolph Valentino and Natacha Rambova.

The question of what would follow the expected Smash Hit of Beaucaire – in the end it wasn’t the massive success they thought – wasn’t answered quickly. Much time passed and many possibilities were rejected before the Beach story was settled on. Thanks to Natacha Rambova, his former wife, who, in 1930, published The Truth About Rudolph Valentino, her version of their life together, we know a great deal about the making of what was to become A Sainted Devil. And what we aren’t told by her we can discover from other sources. However, let’s return to the production later, after we’ve enjoyed looking at the inspiration. (Actual text is in bold.)

Beach’s brilliant yarn opens with the following paragraph:

A round moon flooded the thickets with gold and inky shadows. The night was hot, poisonous with the scent of blossoms and of rotting tropic vegetation. It was that breathless, overpowering period between the seasons when the trades were fitful, before the rains had come. From the Caribbean rose the whisper of a dying surf, slower and fainter than the respirations of a sick man; in the north the bearded, wrinkled Haytian hills lifted their scowling faces. They were trackless, mysterious, darker even than the history of the island.

After this great opening, the atmosphere established to the point where we can almost smell it, we now survey the scene. A thatched roof, on four posts, food spread upon a table, and a candle, undisturbed by even a whisper of a breeze, burning quite steadily. Close by another “thatched shed” under which soldiers are gathered ’round a fire. And about, in the “jungle clearing”, huts that have seen better days in which men can be heard talking.

We’re next introduced to the Villain: “Petithomme Laguerre, colonel of tirailleurs, in the army of the Republic…” Seated at the table, in his blue and gold uniform, disappointed with the food he just ate even more than the lack of plunder in the village. He mulls over the day from the comfort of a grass hammock that, like the property, belongs to a Julien Rameau.

We then receive some context:

On three sides of the clearing were thickets of guava and coffee trees, long since gone wild. A ruined wall along the beach road, a pair of bleaching gate-posts, a moldering house foundation, showed that this had once been the site of a considerable estate.

These mute testimonials to the glories of the French occupation are common in Hayti, but since the blacks rose under Toussaint l’Ouverture they have been steadily disappearing; the greedy fingers of the jungle have destroyed them bit by bit; what were once farms and gardens are now thickets and groves; in place of stately houses there are now nothing but miserable hovels. Cities of brick and stone have been replaced by squalid villages of board and corrugated iron, peopled by a shrill-voiced, quarreling race over which, in grim mockery, floats the banner of the Black Republic inscribed with the motto, “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.”

Once Hayti was called the “Jewel of the Antilles” and boasted its “Little Paris of the West,” but when the black men rose to power it became a place of evil reputation, a land behind a veil, where all things are possible and most things come to pass. In place of monastery bells there sounds the midnight mutter of voodoo drums; the priest has been succeeded by the “papaloi,” the worship of the Virgin has changed to that of the serpent. Instead of the sacramental bread and wine men drink the blood of the white cock, and, so it is whispered, eat the flesh of “the goat without horns.”

But where is Julien Rameau? Hanging by his wrists from a nearby tamarind tree! Soon Petithomme Laguerre speaks to him. Saying:

“So! Now that Monsieur Rameau has had time to think, perhaps he will speak,” said the colonel.

Yet Rameau’s reply is the same one he’d been giving since the beginning of his torment: that he has no riches. Growing increasingly bored, the colonel tells a subordinate, named Congo, to: “… bring the boy!” And also “a girl”. And we subsequently learn they are man and wife. And that the man is named Floreal.

Congo “and another tirailleur” duly appear with young Floreal Rameau and his equally youthful wife. Both have their hands tied behind their backs. The husband is silent. His wife is in tears.

Now we’re supplied with a good description of the Anti Hero:

Floréal Rameau was a slim mulatto, perhaps twenty years old; his lips were thin and sensitive, his nose prominent, his eyes brilliant and fearless. They gleamed now with all the vindictiveness of a serpent, until that hanging figure in the shadows just outside turned slowly and a straying moonbeam lit the face of his father; then a new expression leaped into them. Floréal’s chin fell, he swayed uncertainly upon his legs.

“Monsieur–what is this?” he asks Colonel Petihomme Laguerre. And then commences a conversation between the Captor and the Captive. The Aggressor wants their money. And the Victim reiterates that there’s none.

When his wife agrees with him Laguerre notices her beauty:

Her arms, bound as they were, threw the outlines of her ripe young bosom into prominent relief and showed her to be round and supple; she was lighter in color even than Floréal. A little scar just below her left eye stood out, dull brown, upon her yellow cheek.

Floreal’s young wife is disgusted by Laguerre, but is forced to reveal her name, which is Pierrine. When he asks her to tell him where their riches are hidden she replies:

“I know nothing,” she stammered. “Floréal speaks the truth, monsieur. What does it mean–all this? We are good people; we harm nobody. Every one here was happy until the–blacks rose. Then there was fighting and–this morning you came. It was terrible! Mamma Cleomélie is dead–the soldiers shot her. Why do you hang Papa Julien?”

Then her young husband becomes hysterical and begs on his knees for mercy. Telling the Colonel to take what they have: “fields, cattle, a schooner”. However their evil Tormentor hasn’t been listening. And, instead, has been eyeing Pierrine. Which makes Floreal even more desperate:

Floréal strained until the rawhide thongs cut into his wrists, his bare, yellow toes gripping the hard earth like the claws of a cat until he seemed about to spring. Once he turned his head, curiously, fearfully, toward his young wife, then his blazing glance swung back to his captor.

Now Floreal Rameau’s worst fears become reality. Despite his attempt to appeal to their Tormentor, Petihomme Laguerre, Laguerre orders orders his men to beat Floreal’s poor father, while he takes the son’s wife into his personal custody, to perhaps suffer a fate worse than death. Floreal Rameau flings himself in front of the Colonel but fails to stop him. And now watches, helplessly as his wife is led away and his father is brutalized:

Floréal shrank away. Retreating until his back was against the table, he clutched its edge with his numb fingers for support. He was young, he had seen little of the ferocious cruelty which characterized his countrymen; this was the first uprising against his color that he had witnessed. Every blow, which seemed directed at his own body, made him suffer until he became almost as senseless as the figure of his father.

His groping fingers finally touched the candle at his back; it was burning low, and the blaze bit at them. With the pain there came a thought, wild, fantastic; he shifted his position slightly until the flame licked at his bonds.

Colonel Laguerre returns to see if the torturing of Julien Rameau is effective. Not noticing that the son, Floreal Rameau, is burning his restraints with the candle on the table. After telling Floreal that he’ll be guarded during the night, and then dealt with the next day, he departs; having: “… an appetite for pleasanter things than this.”

Floreal then cries out to no avail:

“Laguerre! She is my wife–by the Church! My wife.”

Congo and Maximilien, the two subordinates of the Colonel, talk between themselves about the fact that they believe there’s no money. They then decide they’ll kill Floreal’s father, take “the boy back to his prison”, and get some rest. While Congo attends to the old man – who’s not surprisingly expired – Maximilien approaches the son in order to lead him to where he’ll be kept prisoner. Telling him, as he does so, that he’ll be shot tomorrow.

Yet, the desperate, ingenious Floreal, who has by now freed his hands, deftly removes Maximilien’s machete from its sheath. After mortally wounding the unsuspecting owner he then pursues his fellow trooper/’tirailleur’, Congo, who’s head he cracks open, like: “… a green cocoanut, with one stroke.”

Screenshot (2654)
An original illustration from the 1916 publishing.

Floreal Rameau has time to cut down the body of his dead father but is soon aware that the other men are seeking out their weapons. Thus, as they begin to shoot at him, he quickly disappears into the jungle, as they continue to fire blindly. Laguerre almost fails to subdue them and the first part of the tale ends thus:

The road to the Dominican frontier was rough and wild. All Hayti was aflame; every village was peopled by raging blacks who had risen against their lighter-hued brethren. Among the fugitives who slunk along the winding bridle-paths that once had been roads there was a mulatto youth of scarcely twenty, who carried a machete beneath his arm. In his eyes there was a lurking horror; his wrists were bound with rags torn from his cotton shirt; he spoke but seldom, and when he did it was to curse the name of Petithomme Laguerre.

After the horrifying, blood-soaked opening, Rex Beach tells us what happened to Floreal in the aftermath. How he became resident in the neighbouring country. Gave himself a new name. Learned the language. And became a Seaman. (He had, it seems, been “born of the sea”.) Furthermore:

But he could not bring himself to utterly forsake the island of his birth, for twice a year, when the seasons changed, when the trades died and the hot lands sent their odors reeking through the night, he felt a hungry yearning for Hayti. During these periods of lifeless heat his impulses ran wild; at these times his habits changed and he became violent, nocturnal.

Screenshot (2686)

Inocencio Ruiz, as he’s now known, is shunned by women and by men. And people talk of him suspiciously. The suspicious talk is wonderful:

“This Inocencio is a person of uncertain temper. He has a bad eye.”

“Whence did he come?” others inquired. “He is not one of us.”

“From Jamaica, or the Barbadoes, perhaps. He has much evil in him.”

“And yet he makes no enemies.”

“Nor friends.”

“Um-m! A peculiar fellow. A man of passion–one can see it in his face.”

Screenshot (2685)

Our Anti Hero’s homeland, Hayti, has, we discover, become peaceful again. And the man that he hates is now ‘General Petithomme Laguerre, Commandant of the Arrondissement of the South’. Inocencio hears of this and departs in a shady Barkentine. He cruises the Caribbean “seeing something of the world and tasting of its wickedness.” After twelve months, at Trinidad, he acquainted himself with a “Portuguese half-breed”, the Captain of a Schooner. Inocencio was eventually promoted to Mate. And then, after a gambling session, won the ship from the “half-breed”.

DeLesseps
Ferdinand de Lesseps.

We’re next in Colon (Panama). During what the author terms ” the French fiasco” of “De Lesseps”. (This information means the story is set in the 1860s and 1870s.) There in “the wickedest, sickest city of the Western Hemisphere”, he:

… heard the echo of tremendous undertakings; there he learned new rascalities, and met men from other lands who were homeless, like himself; there he tasted of the white man’s wickedness, and beheld forms of corruption that were strange to him. The nights were ribald and the days were drear, for fever stalked the streets, but Inocencio was immune, and for the first time he enjoyed himself.

Solitary Inocencio thinks of Hayti and Pierrine. And we’re informed that:

In time the mulatto acquired a reputation and gathered a crew of ruffians over whom he tyrannized. There were women in his camp, too, ‘Bajans, Sant’ Lucians, and wenches from the other isles, but neither they nor their powdered sisters along the back streets of Colon appealed to Inocencio very long, for sooner or later there always came to him the memory of a yellow girl with a scar beneath her eye, and thoughts of her brought pictures of a blue-and-gold negro colonel and an old man hanging by the wrists. Then it was that he felt a slow flame licking at his tendons, and his hatred blazed up so suddenly that the women fled from him, bearing marks of his fingers on their flesh.

Inocencio Ruiz sails for weeks with his Motley Crew. Often visiting the Haytian coast for no reason. He hears gossip about Petithomme Laguerre who has plans one day to be the President. This stirs him to action. And, with the help of “a French clerk in the Canal offices”, he composes an extremely clever letter to His Excellency, General Petihomme Laguerre, Commandant of the Arrondissement of the South, Jacmel, Republic of Hayti. In the communication the Clerk recommends Ruiz. And tells the ambitious Laguerre that there are 200 rifles available at a good price. And that Inocencio is prepared to meet him and discuss the sale.

Antoine Leblanc, the letter writer, expresses doubts about the scheme. But Inocencio Ruiz, the former Floreal Rameau, is adamant. And says, dramatically:

“When I die I shall have no enemies to forgive, for I shall have killed them all,” he said, simply.

We now move to conclusion. Inocencio’s ship, the Stella, arrives at Jacmel, Hayti, and drops anchor. An anchored “Haytian gunboat” worries him, as he hadn’t counted on it being present.

A band was playing in the square, and there were many soldiers. Inocencio did not go ashore. Instead he sent the letter by a member of his crew, a giant ‘Bajan’ whom he trusted, and with it he sent word that he hoped to meet His Excellency, General Laguerre, that evening at a certain drinking-place near the water-front.

We then are told by Beach:

The sailor returned at dusk with news that set his captain’s eyes aglow. Jacmel was alive with troops; there had been a review that very afternoon and the populace had hailed the commandant as President. On all sides there was talk of revolution; the whole south country had enrolled beneath the banner of revolt. The gunboat was Laguerre’s; all Hayti craved a change; the old familiar race cry had been raised and the mulattoes were in terror of another massacre. But the regular troops were badly armed and the perusal of Inocencio’s letter had filled the general with joy.

Captain Ruiz goes to the rendezvous early and sits drinking rum while waiting. (Due to “his threatening eyes” he’s unmolested.) An “older and infinitely prouder” Laguerre finally arrives in a “parrot-green” uniform. “With age and power he had coarsened, but his eyes were still bloodshot and domineering.” They greet each other:

“Captain Ruiz?” he inquired, pausing before the yellow man.

“Your Excellency!” Inocencio rose and saluted.

Ruiz isn’t recognised by Laguerre and a discussion ensues. Eventually the Captain persuades the General to accompany him alone to view the merchandise. They then depart for the Stella:

The moon was round and brilliant as they walked out upon the rotting wharf-all wharves in Hayti are decayed-the night had grown still, and through it came the gentle whisper of the tide, mingled with the babel from the town. Land odors combined with the pungent stench of the harbor in a scent which caused Inocencio’s nostrils to quiver and memory to gnaw at him. He cast a worried look skyward, and in his ungodly soul prayed for wind, for a breeze, for a gentle zephyr which would put his vengeance in his hands.

Inocencio rows the unsuspecting Petihomme out to the Stella:

… as they neared the Stella a breath came out of the open. It was hot, stifling, as if a furnace door had opened, and the yellow man smiled grimly into the night.

The crew of the Stella are amazed to see the General. But their Captain reveals nothing to them of his plan. The ‘Monsieur le General’ is guided towards the cabin. And this is then followed by: “… the sound of a blow, of a heavy fall, then a loud, ferocious cry, and a subdued scuffling, during which the crew stared at one another.”

Afterwards Inocencio emerges and gives orders for them to set sail. A faint breeze means the ship moves slowly, but surely, and Inocencio seats himself upon the deck-house, and drums “his naked heels upon the cabin wall.” Furthermore:

He lit one cigarette after another, and the helmsman saw that he was laughing silently.

Morning comes:

Dawn broke in an explosion of many colors. The sun rushed up out of the sea as if pursued; night fled, and in its place was a blistering day, full grown. The breeze had died, however, and the Stella wallowed in a glassy calm, her sails slatting, her booms creaking, her gear complaining to the drunken roll. The slow swells heeled her first to one side, then to the other, the decks grew burning hot; no faintest ripple stirred the undulating surface of the Caribbean. Afar, the Haytian hills wavered and danced through a veil of heat. The slender topmast described long measured arcs across the sky, like a schoolmaster’s pointer; from its peak the halyards whipped and bellied.

Then:

“Captain!” The ‘Bajan waited for recognition. “Captain!” Inocencio looked up finally. “There–toward Jacmel–there is smoke. See! We have been watching it.”

Their Captain nods. He knows that the ship approaching them is the “Haytian gunboat” that he saw at Jacmel. His crew are uneasy and demand to know who the man is that was brought aboard the night before. When they discover his identity they’re aghast. But Inocencio is unfazed and tells “the Bajan” to locate a new rope, make it: “… fast to the end of this halyard and run it through yonder block.”

Captain Ruiz then returns to General Laguerre in the cabin:

Laguerre was sitting in a chair with his arms and legs securely bound, but he had succeeded in working considerable havoc with the furnishings of the place as well as with his splendid uniform. His lips foamed, his eyes protruded at sight of his captor; a trickle of blood from his scalp lent him a ferocious appearance.

Gradually Inocencio reveals to Petihomme not only who he is but also what his captive’s fate will be. The conversation goes as follows:

“All Hayti could not buy your life, Laguerre!”

Some tone of voice, some haunting familiarity of feature, set the prisoner’s memory to groping blindly. At last he inquired, “Who are you?”

“I am Floréal.”

The name meant nothing. Laguerre’s life was black; many Floréals had figured in it.

“You do not remember me?”

“N-no, and yet—”

“Perhaps you will remember another–a woman. She had a scar, just here.” The speaker laid a tobacco-stained finger upon his left cheek-bone, and Laguerre noticed for the first time that the wrist beneath it was maimed as from a burn. “It was a little scar and it was brown, in the candle-light. She was young and round and her body was soft–” The mulatto’s lean face was suddenly distorted in a horrible grimace which he intended for a smile. “She was my wife, Laguerre, by the Church, and you took her. She died, but she had a child—your child.”

The huge black figure shrank into its green-and-gold panoply, the bloodshot eyes rested upon Inocencio with a look of terrified recognition.

Inocencio Ruiz, now Floreal Rameau once more, further torments his former Tormentor. And then takes him on deck. Petihomme Laguerre is briefly hopeful when he sees the smoke rising from the gunboat in the distance. But before he can finish what he’s saying his Captor slips the new rope around his wrists. Then a dramatic moment:

“Give way!” he ordered.

The crew held back, at which he turned upon them so savagely that they hastened to obey. They put their weight upon the line; Laguerre’s arms were whisked above his head, he felt his feet leave the deck. He was dumb with surprise, choked with rage at this indignity, but he did not understand its significance.

The sailors haul Laguerre higher and higher into the air until: “… his feet had cleared the crosstree.” Then:

“Make fast!” Inocencio ordered.

Laguerre was hanging like a huge plumbob now, and as the schooner heeled to starboard he swung out, farther and farther, until there was nothing beneath him but the glassy sea. He screamed at this, and kicked and capered; the slender topmast sprung to his antics. Then the vessel righted herself, and as she did so the man at the rope’s end began a swift and fearful journey. Not until that instant did his fate become apparent to him, but when he saw what was in store for him he ceased to cry out. He fixed his eyes upon the mast toward which the weight of his body propelled him, he drew himself upward by his arms, he flung out his legs to break the impact. The Stella lifted by the bow and he cleared the spar by a few inches. Onward he rushed, to the pause that marked the limit of his flight to port, then slowly, but with increasing swiftness, he began his return journey. Again he resisted furiously and again his body missed the mast, all but one shoulder, which brushed lightly in passing and served to spin him like a top. The measured slowness of that oscillation added to its horror; with every escape the victim’s strength decreased, his fear grew, and the end approached. It was a game of chance played by the hand of the sea. Under him the deck appeared and disappeared at regular intervals, the rope cut into his wrists, the slim spar sprung to his efforts. In the distance was a charcoal smear which grew blacker.

As Laguerre nears destruction Inocencio counts. Taunts him from below. And reminds him of his past victims. And then:

A cry of horror arose from the crew who had gathered forward, for Petithomme Laguerre, dizzied with spinning, had finally fetched up with a crash against the mast. He ricocheted, the swing of the pendulum became irregular for a time or two, then the roll of the vessel set it going again. Time after time he missed destruction by a hair’s-breadth, while the voice from below gibed at him, then once more there came the sound of a blow, dull, yet loud, and of a character to make the hearers shudder. The victim struggled less violently; he no longer drew his weight upward like a gymnast. But he was a man of great vitality; his bones were heavy and thickly padded with flesh, therefore they broke one by one, and death came to him slowly. The sea played with him maliciously, saving him repeatedly, only to thresh him the harder when it had tired of its sport. It was a long time before the restless Caribbean had reduced him to pulp, a spineless, boneless thing of putty which danced to the spring of the resilient spruce.

Once dead, Laguerre is lowered, and slipped into the still sea. We then have a beautiful sentence:

The sky was glittering, the pitch was oozing from the deck, in the distance the Haytian mountains scowled through the shimmer.

And the story ends thus:

Inocencio turned toward the approaching gunboat, which was very close by now, a rusty, ill-painted, ill-manned tub. Her blunt nose broke the swells into foam, from her peak depended the banner of the Black Republic, symbolic of the motto, “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.” The captain of the Stella rolled and lit a cigarette, then seated himself upon the cabin roof to wait. And as he waited he drummed with his naked heels and smiled, for he was satisfied.

Reading through Rope’s End, which I’ve obviously abbreviated, without removing vital components, there’s no doubt it was a superb tale. And it’s easy to see why Natacha Rambova and Rudolph Valentino felt it would be an exciting vehicle for him. Featuring, as it does, an exotic central figure, in a foreign, tropical location; plenty of tension, with many opportunities for serious dramatic acting, and emoting; changes of scene and also changes of costume; a cast of interesting supporting characters; and the triumph, if in a dark, very twisted way, of good over evil.

TYR1

Naturally there were several obstacles to be overcome. It was unthinkable, at that time, due to racial prejudice, that Rudy could portray a ‘Mulatto’. While he’d certainly already embodied a desert Sheik, a coarse Spaniard, and an Indian Prince, each time this had been made acceptable in some way. (Usually by revealing he wasn’t, in fact, completely ethnic.) Also, for the same reasons, there was no way any African American could play opposite him, as a foe. And, lastly, there would need to be an adjustment when it came to the wife that dies. Possibly by showing a happy life before the arrival of the soldiers and giving the audience flashbacks throughout. Or by reuniting them at the conclusion. (In the original she dies giving birth to Petihomme Laguerre’s child.)

In The Truth About Rudolph Valentino, in 1930, Rambova was clear, that before Valentino departed for a short break in Florida, in May 1924, he’d been very happy with the script. According to Natacha, that submitted and approved narrative, was: “… centered about a revolution in South America, full of the color, fire and dramatic situations that had characterized ‘The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse’, the plot was motivated by war…”

This all shows, that while Forrest Halsey, who’d already adapted Tarkington’s Beaucaire, had shifted the action from the Caribbean Islands to Latin America, and at the same time most likely dumped the sea going sections, he’d very much preserved the uprising that was the reason Floreal/Inocencio becomes vengeful. What the “color, fire and dramatic situations” exactly were is a mystery. No doubt the adapted character was a wandering, rootless individual (on dry land rather than at sea), that found himself in a series of compromising situations. Natacha Rambova’s mentioning of TFHotA (1921) suggests this.

Having undergone significant, yet satisfactory alteration, it was therefore a shock when the script was further altered during Valentino’s absence. Rambova explains that: “… after the story had been accepted, bought and paid for, the powers behind the throne suddenly decided that for the sake of international policy (or expense) all traces of war must be eliminated. In other words, the very reason for the story, the spinal column of the beast, was amputated. What remained were a few fragmentary incidents strung together by a threadbare plot and given the title ‘A Sainted Devil’.”

Moreover: “I objected loudly to this mutilation of a fine story; it took all of the pep from the picture. I predicted it would be a failure. But my objections were promptly overruled and, rather than cause more trouble, I sank into quiescence. It was the last picture of our contract with Famous Players and we didn’t want more litigation. Anything for peace!”

Screenshot (2692)

If we accept her version – I do by-the-way – Rope’s End had gone from being an extremely exciting, if vicious, work, with a simple to understand central character, shifting against a series of visually exciting, exotic backdrops. To a still relatively exciting, perhaps less bloodthirsty storyline, with, again, a simple to understand central character, operating in a colourful, fiery and dramatic world. To, finally, a lacklustre story, devoid of meaning, with a motiveless, certainly unchallenged central character, moving from scene to scene in an environment that was unexceptional.

Personally, with the necessary changes mentioned earlier, I visualise, without difficulty, Rudolph Valentino as Floreal Rameau. I see him as the unworldly, virginal, defiant young Husband. I see him, on his knees, helpless and begging for mercy. I see him transforming and becoming, when given no alternative, instinctive, animal and a murderer. I see him as the forever-changed, lonely unsatisfied drifter; as a fugitive who broods about the past and lives in the moment. I see him as the Master of the Stella with his ugly crewmen. And lastly, I see him, face to face with his wicked adversary, fully prepared to punish him, for the deaths of his mother, and, his father and wife.

It’s a great shame that Famous Players Lasky/Paramount couldn’t or wouldn’t see him as Rameau too. That they made the decision to drastically alter the “accepted, bought and paid for” adaptation. That they put production costs and expediency before great art and good storytelling. That they decided, after all, not to let bygones be bygones. For me, it’s obvious Rudy was denied the opportunity to surpass himself, in The Four Horsemen…, The Sheik and Blood and Sand. Yes, the times were against him, yet that was as nothing compared to having his employers not fully on his side. Immediately afterwards, though they didn’t know it for about another year, the Valentino’s were no longer a Hollywood Power Couple. Backing down over A Sainted Devil (1924), would lead to them being given the run around about The Hooded Falcon, which was never realised. Cobra (1925), which was to follow A Sainted Devil, was Valentino’s second – third in the opinion of some – flop in a row.

The issues that surrounded the adaptation of Rex Beach’s Rope’s End, 95 years ago this year, are of interest to me, and I hope they’ve interested you. If not, at the very least, I’m sure you enjoyed, at least a little, getting to know the story on which it was based. If, like me, you’ve come to appreciate the main character, then my time hasn’t been wasted. It’s possible you may even feel, as I do, that there was a great opportunity for Valentino to excel that he was denied. As explained at the very start I’ll be looking fully at the film A Sainted Devil (1924) this Autumn. Maybe you’ll join me for that? I do hope so! Enjoy the the Reel Infatuation Blogathon, today, tomorrow and Sunday. It’s wonderful to be given the opportunity to be part of it!