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sence from the sound stages may mean idleness on the part of dozens of workmen. I say love is the only emotion strong enough to induce a girl into doing such a foolish act.
Later I visited her in her dressing room when she was making Cass Timberlane. Still the talk was all Ty. They wanted to make a picture together. He adored her daughter Cheryl. Life was wonderful. I still believe that she and Ty would have married if his divorce from Annabella had been final. It's on record that Annabella said she would give Ty a divorce whenever he wished it; but it's not on record that he was in great haste to get that little decree so he could marry Lana.
When the romance exploded, I called Lana and told her how much I regretted it. "So do I," she sighed, "but I've had a wonderful year. Ty's a great guy. From now on I'll carry my chin a little higher and work harder." Where had I heard those words before? It seems that everybody is "a great guy" or "great girl" when the end comes.
It is more than passing irony that Lana in her new picture, The Bad And The Beautiful, is used by a man to further his own ambitions but rejects her love when she is no longer useful to him. This cannot be applied to Tyrone Power. He never used Lana. During their romance he was as big a name as she. But I cannot say that about all the men in her life.
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Let's flash back to the early days when Victor Mature, Turhan Bey, Tony Martin, and Bob Hutton were among her frequent escorts. They were all actors struggling toward big time in the movies; and being seen with glamorous Lana hurt them not one whit. Indeed, it was sufficient to get their pictures spread all over the papers. Lana was not the big star she is today, but she was a beautiful girl and the photographers' delight. It seems a long time ago but maybe you can remember what a striking couple blonde Turner and dashing, dark Mature made. Then there was Turhan Bey, who set feminine hearts aflutter with his suave, elegant continental manners. Just recently he reminded me that I had once said, "You look wicked, but you aren't." So he decided to do something about it. "I had great fun," he added, "but it certainly put a crimp in my bank account."
Greg Bautzer was her first great love; and this was unfortunate. He's one of the most eligible but most elusive bachelors in our town. Greg's a fine escort, but to take him seriously romantically is to invite heartache. .Greg is a man who just naturally likes to have his arm decorated by a pretty girl swinging thereon. Handsome, virile, well-mannered, and prosperous, he's the dreamboat whom all girls think they can land until they turn around and suddenly he isn't there. Greg's not the marrying kind. But when he's with a girl, he's most attentive; so you think the latest gal on his arm is the love of his life.
Lana Turner, who describes Greg as "an escape artist," was no different. Like the other girls she took a headlong fling at the determined bachelor and got bounced off for her pains. Though he didn't marry her, he has remained a faithful, helpful friend to Lana through her stormy life. In some instances, however, he was indirectly responsible for her grief.
IT began on her 19th birthday. Greg made a date to take Lana and her mother out for the evening, but at the last minute he begged off, claiming illness. Lana, at that time considering herself engaged to Bautzer, blew her topper. Then the phone rang; and answering it was one of the biggest mistakes the girl ever made. On the other end of the wire was Artie Shaw with a
line as smooth as silk. He didn't have to exhaust his extensive vocabulary to convince the furious girl that she should go out and celebrate with him. She'd show that Bautzer that a lady didn't have to sit home evenings awaiting the whims of the lord and master.
Now Artie was not among Lana s favorite people. They had met when making a picture, Dancing Co-ed. To put it mildly there were no heart throbs between the two. Artie can be classified as an intellectual snob.
No night clubs with music, dancing, champagne for Artie. That would have caused distraction; and he couldn't hear himself talk. He drove Lana down to the sea. It was a night made for love, with a full moon turning the surging tides to gold. Tumultuous Lana was still burning over the Bautzer slight. Artie turned on the charm; and let it be recorded that this gent is not lacking in that commodity when he wishes to dish it out.
He used a tactical talk familiar to most experienced women, starting with abstractions, literature, and the like; then ending the oration with a conversation piece about marriage and a cozy little home. That night they drove back to Hollywood, rousted out the famous "Honeymoon Pilot," Paul Mantz, flew to Las Vegas and got married For the ceremony, Artie pulled a ring oft his finger for Lana to wear. She had a very good ring in her handbag— the one Greg Bautzer gave her to seal their engagement.
About this time Lana figured she ought to notify her mother about the event. She simply wired her that she had got married, but failed to state to whom. Her mother
Asked if it is true that there is a touch of madness in every actress, Marlene Dietrich said, "Of course. That's what makes us what we are. We should accept it — instead of going to analysts to be rid of it."
Leonard Lyons in The New York Post
thought it had to be to Greg Bautzer. She was in for a dismal disillusionment.
So was Lana. Artie lost no time in starting to improve his bride — a matter that's become a habit with him. He wanted her to be everything from a cook to a philosopher The case was hopeless. Lana tried, but the lessons didn't take. After four months of being brow-beaten, she locked Artie out of the house; called up Greg Bautzer, and said she'd had it. She asked him to get her out of her marriage.
You would have thought that "education" would have included a lesson on men for Lana. But it didn't. For a little while she concentrated on her career; and her efforts proved her capability for acting in Ziegfeld Girl. But she went on a real night club kick, making the rounds and keeping an eye peeled for eligible men.
When it comes to romance, shes a law unto herself. She usurps the prerogatives of most males, who, when they see a pretty girl, say, "That's the dish for me, and move right in. Well, Lana does the same. I've seen her in action. At a party we both attended, she cased the room, picked out an attractive man, walked over, stuck out her hand, and said, "I'm Lana Turner. Who are you?"
To her men are like new dresses to be donned and doffed at her pleasure. Seeing a fellow that attracts her, she s like a child looking at a new doll. It's got to belong to her. And like a child, she can knock the stuffing out of the doll in a week, discard it, and pick up a new one. Of a trusting nature, she seldom pauses to differentiate between heels and haloes.
While night-clubbing one night, destiny brought Steve Crane into her life. He came over to her table and greeted Lana