The seven deadly sins of Hollywood (1957)

CRAZY MIXED-UP KIDST directors and Sinatra is said to be the hottest thing in Hollywood, the table we got was practically a royal enclosure. And we immediately became a goal for all the table-hoppers in the room. One of the minor disadvantages of being the hottest thing in Hollywood is that you have to stand up a dozen times during your meal to be introduced to gushing women whose friends or husbands insist that they simply must meet you. I have to report that Sinatra submitted to their compliments with grace. He is the sort of man who will take any amount of criticism as long as it is flattering. This is how he looks as he half stands, holding a napkin in one hand, bravely carrying the burden of fame on his narrow shoulders, talking to someone Esther Williams has brought over to be introduced. He is a small, slight man with sardonic features that seem to have been etched out of pumice-stone. His skin is stretched tautly across the high bones of his face. His hairline is one recession that America must reluctantly acknowledge is here. And he has a bald spot at the back of his head. The grin on his face is that of a man smiling through a perpetual toothache. His sapphire cuff-links match his sapphire ring. His suit is neat and sober this evening, but the personality inside it is as loud as a neon sign on Hollywood Boulevard. The audience over, he sits down, and Otto Preminger says that he ought to go to the Academy Award nominations because he will be nominated as the best actor of the year for his performance in The Man with the Golden Arm. Frankie says he is not going to the nominations. He is going to Palm Springs, the desert oasis, which is the weekend playground of the stars. Frankie's girl tells me that she is a singer and comes from Texas and that she thinks Frankie is just great. Frankie, I notice, has hardly said a word to her all 121