“€œFor this stunt, hire a woman dressed entirely in black mourning, complete with veil, and have her visit the local newspapers. . .

… and ask permission to go through their files for stories and pictures of [Rudolph] Valentino. Instruct her to be as mysterious as possible.”

— Quote from Paramount Picture’s press booklet to theatre owners, encouraging them to hire their own “Ladies in Black”

And so they did, although this was kept hush-hush for years. It was part of the legend. Who was this “Lady in Black” who showed up every year on the anniversary of Valentino’s death?? A brilliant publicity ploy, if you think about it.

If you are not familiar with the Lady in Black, here’s a good summing-up by Suzidoll over at Movie Morlocks, although when you’re talking about Rudolph Valentino, there is always more to discover. The myths, the fantasies, the legends … It feels like ancient history.

Valentino’s sexuality was “questioned” from the start. There were probably some issues there, but perhaps it was also unsettling to see a man be so openly emotional, and in touch with his sexual side, and that those qualities are seen as distinctly feminine (a pox on all their houses). There was also the bit about his “foreignness” – his “exotic” face and all of that. He was classically “The Other” and was cast as such. Regardless, there is an anecdote about Valentino that I find quite moving. It’s listed on the IMDB page of his trivia, as well as in the couple of books I have about Valentino. It is a spit in the eye to those who think masculinity should only take one form, and who mistakenly believe that those who are not physically rugged are “weak”, or not tough.

A few months before Valentino’s death, a Chicago newspaper columnist attacked his masculinity in print, referring to him as a “pink powder puff.” A lawsuit was pending when Valentino was fatally stricken. One of his last questions to his doctor was, “Well, doctor, and do I now act like a ‘pink powder puff’?” His doctor reportedly replied, “No, sir. You have been very brave. Braver than most.”

His untimely death caused a worldwide uproar, but you can read all about that in that post.

And if you can, try to track down some of Valentino’s movies. There are people who are film buffs who have never seen one of his movies. It was very difficult for years to even get your hands on one of them, but now with Netflix, that is taken care of (at least to some degree). I have yet to see any of them on the big screen. He is exaggerated, yes, and it takes some getting used to. But why I love it is that it is a glimpse of “how things used to be”, in terms of acting and film acting. Women swooned in the aisles. Women were in a frantic state of sexual ecstasy just watching this guy. Rather than snicker and make fun, it’s a fascinating glimpse at how things change, but also how things stay the same. He is a part of the fabric of Hollywood, and the development of early 20th culture (not to mention the culture of FAME – which was unheard of at that time, at least at that level. Motion pictures changed everything, in terms of instant recognizability).

Suzidoll writes:

Valentino’s films are the most obvious of romantic melodramas, and the acting style is broad and expressive, even for silent films, which is definitely out of vogue for contemporary audiences. Despite the time-bound nature of the genre and acting style, Valentino is magnetic onscreen, making him a timeless icon of sexuality. There’s an energy and verve to his performances that make his costars forgettable. His charisma transcends the corny exaggerated eye gestures and nostril flaring associated with his star image. And, his magnetism is apparent without benefit of his voice. Valentino died a year before The Jazz Singer issued in talkies, forever relegating silent films to a distant past. It occurred to me that I have never heard his voice.

Go read the whole thing.