Alvarado [an actor, also known as Don Page] and one or two other boys. I went, really, because my mother worried about me.” Della did voice concern that Myrna’s all-work-and-little-play pattern wasn’t healthy, though when the time came for Myrna to pull away and declare her sexual independence, Della would object, tugging hard on the maternal cord. 13
Joan Crawford had long since broken free of the supervision of her own mother, a hardworking, much-married, less conventionally respectable and less educated woman than Della. With two broken marriages behind her and two kids to support, she once ran a laundry in Kansas City and trained her daughter to be an expert at ironing shirts. Myrna and Joan both had to work. Each had a mother and brother who depended on their incomes. Crawford showed none of the indulgent affection for her brother, Hal, that Myrna felt for David; she actively resented Hal, calling him “a parasite and a drunk.” Both Joan and Myrna became the family breadwinner by age twenty. Joan, whose father abandoned them early in the game, learned to dance by dancing, not by taking ballet lessons or studying with Ruth St. Denis. Joan’s stepfather ran an Oklahoma vaudeville house, and Joan, then called Billie Cassin, caught the show-business bug there. She never attended a ritzy high school like Westlake School for Girls. She did enroll in one school where she was supposed to be a helper in the dorm but was actually corralled into cooking and cleaning for thirty, and she was brutally beaten by the headmaster’s wife when she failed to measure up. She briefly attended Stephens College, leaving school for a chorus line job in a Chicago show. That led her to a Broadway chorus line, where MGM’s Harry Rapf spotted her and gave her a screen test. Myrna’s opposite number when it came to feverish hoofing in nightclubs, bed-hopping, and seeking the spotlight, Crawford readily accepted the crown as one of Hollywood’s reigning hard-living, fun-loving flappers and would soon sign a contract with MGM. 14
Content to maintain a low social profile, Myrna pursued her professional goals with single-minded determination. Wounded by the way Ben-Hur had turned out for her, and frustrated by the whimsical habits of casting directors, she picked up the phone and called Natacha Rambova. Considered a cold fish by many in Hollywood, Natacha genuinely liked Myrna, and Myrna could sense their rapport. Although very different in personality and background (Natacha’s mother had married money and sent her daughter to be educated in Europe), Myrna and Natacha were both dancers; both were arty, ambitious, and cultured; and both were considered exotic looking and standoffish. Rambova’s private life had ruptured since the time of Myrna’s Cobra screen test. Her term as the wife of Rudolph Valentino was about to come to a painful end, with bitter consequence for Rambova’s career as a designer of movie sets and costumes. The Hooded Falcon , an ambitious film about Moorish Spain that she and Valentino had hoped to make together, never got off the ground because of budget problems. Now, under financial pressure, Valentino had signed a new contract with United Artists and had verbally agreed to exclude Natacha Rambova from working with him or even putting in an appearance on the set. Rambova had played a prominent behind-the-scenes role in several past Valentino films, and she was habitually baited in the press for “wearing the pants” and being a haughty dominatrix. The marital split left her professionally high and dry. Feeling betrayed by Hollywood, and angry, she would soon leave for Paris and file for divorce. But before she left California, Rambova had decided to produce, with financial help from Valentino to the tune of about $50,000, a film of her own, which would show what she could do and at the same time serve as her Hollywood swan song. 15
When Myrna telephoned her, Natacha told her at once that the Cobra test was
Joan Crawford had long since broken free of the supervision of her own mother, a hardworking, much-married, less conventionally respectable and less educated woman than Della. With two broken marriages behind her and two kids to support, she once ran a laundry in Kansas City and trained her daughter to be an expert at ironing shirts. Myrna and Joan both had to work. Each had a mother and brother who depended on their incomes. Crawford showed none of the indulgent affection for her brother, Hal, that Myrna felt for David; she actively resented Hal, calling him “a parasite and a drunk.” Both Joan and Myrna became the family breadwinner by age twenty. Joan, whose father abandoned them early in the game, learned to dance by dancing, not by taking ballet lessons or studying with Ruth St. Denis. Joan’s stepfather ran an Oklahoma vaudeville house, and Joan, then called Billie Cassin, caught the show-business bug there. She never attended a ritzy high school like Westlake School for Girls. She did enroll in one school where she was supposed to be a helper in the dorm but was actually corralled into cooking and cleaning for thirty, and she was brutally beaten by the headmaster’s wife when she failed to measure up. She briefly attended Stephens College, leaving school for a chorus line job in a Chicago show. That led her to a Broadway chorus line, where MGM’s Harry Rapf spotted her and gave her a screen test. Myrna’s opposite number when it came to feverish hoofing in nightclubs, bed-hopping, and seeking the spotlight, Crawford readily accepted the crown as one of Hollywood’s reigning hard-living, fun-loving flappers and would soon sign a contract with MGM. 14
Content to maintain a low social profile, Myrna pursued her professional goals with single-minded determination. Wounded by the way Ben-Hur had turned out for her, and frustrated by the whimsical habits of casting directors, she picked up the phone and called Natacha Rambova. Considered a cold fish by many in Hollywood, Natacha genuinely liked Myrna, and Myrna could sense their rapport. Although very different in personality and background (Natacha’s mother had married money and sent her daughter to be educated in Europe), Myrna and Natacha were both dancers; both were arty, ambitious, and cultured; and both were considered exotic looking and standoffish. Rambova’s private life had ruptured since the time of Myrna’s Cobra screen test. Her term as the wife of Rudolph Valentino was about to come to a painful end, with bitter consequence for Rambova’s career as a designer of movie sets and costumes. The Hooded Falcon , an ambitious film about Moorish Spain that she and Valentino had hoped to make together, never got off the ground because of budget problems. Now, under financial pressure, Valentino had signed a new contract with United Artists and had verbally agreed to exclude Natacha Rambova from working with him or even putting in an appearance on the set. Rambova had played a prominent behind-the-scenes role in several past Valentino films, and she was habitually baited in the press for “wearing the pants” and being a haughty dominatrix. The marital split left her professionally high and dry. Feeling betrayed by Hollywood, and angry, she would soon leave for Paris and file for divorce. But before she left California, Rambova had decided to produce, with financial help from Valentino to the tune of about $50,000, a film of her own, which would show what she could do and at the same time serve as her Hollywood swan song. 15
When Myrna telephoned her, Natacha told her at once that the Cobra test was
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