Love Triangle: Ronald Reagan, Jane Wyman, & Nancy Davis (Blood Moon's Babylon Series)

by Darwin Porter

  “Some other time,” he said.

  On the set, Reagan met Pat O’Brien, a fellow Irishman, who was a close friend of James Cagney. They had become lifelong friends after their first encounter in 1926. During the course of his career, O’Brien became known for playing Irish cops or priests. The Milwaukee-born actor would loom large in Reagan’s future. He invited Reagan to join him for lunch and to meet James Cagney. Reagan told him he’d already interviewed Cagney in Des Moines, but the actor hadn’t remembered him. Later, during that encounter, Cagney finally remembered being introduced to Reagan.

  Another of the film’s male leads, Wayne Morris, would also loom in Reagan’s future when they had a conflict over who had “squatters’ rights” to Jane Wyman. At the time Reagan met Morris, he was also seducing Wyman, as well as Priscilla Lane, Reagan’s other girlfriend.

  On his second day on the set, Reagan met veteran actor Frank McHugh. This Pennsylvania-born actor had been performing ever since he was a child. He had been a workhorse contract player at Warner’s since 1930, playing an occasional lead, but most often a sidekick to the leading man, consistently providing a film’s comedy relief.

  Veda Ann Borg: A visionary about the future role of television, and a newcomer to Hollywood from Sweden, she preferred her romantic encounters “down and dirty.”

  McHugh introduced Reagan to the actress, Veda Ann Borg, who had a minor role in Submarine D-1.

  Born of Swedish parents, Borg was a beautiful, shapely blonde, who had broken into films the same year as Reagan. In her career, she had been in 100 films, including a small role in the 1945 Mildred Pierce, starring Joan Crawford. [Ironically, the daughter in that movie was also named Veda.]

  “Veda had seen Reagan on the set and wanted to meet him,” McHugh said. “I sorta played Cupid and brought them together. She accepted his invitation to spend a weekend at his cottage. When I saw her the following Monday, I asked her, ‘How did it go?’ She was very frank with me, almost too frank.”

  She told him, “It was good, clean fun in the missionary style. But as Wayne Morris and George Brent can tell you—yes, I’ve had both of them, too—I like it more lowdown and dirty.”

  Reagan’s fling with Borg lasted for a few months, but in 1939, he visited her in the hospital after a car crash. She had been so badly injured that plastic surgeons had to drastically reconstruct her face.

  She was one of the first actresses in Hollywood to recognize the importance of television. When she met with Reagan in the 1950s, she recommended that he, too, enter the medium. In time, he agreed, becoming the host and occasional star of the General Electric Theater. Perhaps based to some extent on his influence there, she eventually appeared in one of G.E.’s televised dramas.

  McHugh also introduced Reagan to George Brent, who had the second male lead. He was one of Warner’s major leading men and a famous womanizer in Hollywood. “Morris dates B-movie starlets,” McHugh told Reagan. “Brent, on the other hand, goes for the big names—Bette, Olivia, Garbo, and Young.”

  [He was referring to Brent’s affairs with Bette Davis (his costar in Housewife; ’34); Olivia de Havilland when she wasn’t otherwise occupied with Errol Flynn; Greta Garbo (his costar in The Painted Veil; ’34); and Loretta Young (his co-star in They Call It Sin; ’32). When Brent bothered to come home, he was married to Ruth Chatterton (his co-star in The Rich Are Always With Us; ’32).

  In the early 1940s, Reagan and Brent would conflict over yet another movie star, Ann Sheridan.]

  At the last minute, the script of Submarine D-1 was drastically revised. Reagan’s scenes ended up on the cutting room floor, and Morris got the girl (Doris Weston). Ironically, however, before the film’s release, based on subsequent cuts and edits, none of these four men, including Reagan, got the girl. In the final reel, their love and patriotic dedication to their submarine won the hearts of all four of the Navy men.

  Reagan had originally been publicized as one of the stars of the film. Amazingly, he got fan mail praising his performance, even though he was not in the final cut. “After that, I learned to take fan mail with a grain of salt.”

  That Saturday night, Reagan was on a date with Priscilla. “Guess what?” he said. “I’ve been assigned another picture, although I don’t know in which role. It’s called Hollywood Hotel, and your two sisters, Rosemary and Lola, have already been cast in it.”

  “I know, I know,” she said, showing irritation. “I’ve warned my bitch sisters that I saw you first.”

  ***

  Priscilla Lane need not have worried that Reagan would become intimately involved with either of her sisters, Rosemary or Lola, during the filming of Hollywood Hotel (1937). All he managed was a brief handshake and a hello to each singer.

  His role as a radio announcer was small. It involved an appearance with Louella Parsons, publicized at the time as “the Queen of Hollywood,” because of her gossip column, which was religiously read by everybody in the film industry as well as by the public at large.

  Whether he was scheduled for a scene that day or not, he showed up every day for lunch and for talks with the film’s other actors and top-rated musicians. He had never been included within such an A-list cast of star players before.

  Dick Powell, the star of the movie, formed a bond with Reagan, becoming his favorite golfing partner. Likewise, Jane Wyman, cast in other pictures, was also forming a bond with Joan Blondell, who would soon marry Powell.

  Joining the singing Lane sisters (Rosemary and Lola) was another popular singer of that era, Frances Langford.

  As Mona Marshall, Lola delivered a strong comedic performance, showing she could act as well as sing.

  The director, Busby Berkeley, had assigned Reagan only a small role. Jerry Wald wrote the weak script. The movie was helped by the wonderful songs of Johnny Mercer and Richard Whiting, as interpreted by Benny Goodman and his or chestra.

  Reagan, who derived from the same town (Dixon, Illinois) as the dreaded columnist, Louella Parsons, appeared in her star-studded revue, Hollywood Hotel.

  From left to right, Lola Lane, Dick Powell, Ted Healy, Reagan himself, and Allyn Joslyn.

  “Busby’s personal tribulations seem to weigh heavily on him, and about the last thing he wanted to do was direct Hollywood Hotel,” Reagan said. “Privately, the stars complained that he wasn’t telling them what to do, and I didn’t like my role, especially as I had been the star in my last efforts.”

  Reagan had lunch with Wald, who at the time was a writer at Warners, although he’d later become more celebrated as a producer. He was the same age as Reagan, and would play a future role in the careers of both Reagan and Jane Wyman. Wald was the inspiration for the horrid character of Sammy Glick in the Budd Schulberg novel, What Makes Sammy Run?

  Reagan found him intimidating, or, as film critic David Thomson described him, “Certainly, he was a vulgarian in the David O. Selznick mold, combining a brutal instinct for the lowest common denominator with earnest literary pretensions.”

  Reagan formed many relationships during the filming of Hollywood Hotel, notably with Parsons herself. When she learned that he, too, was from Dixon, Illinois, she was immediately taken with him, admiring his good looks and athletic build. She began to promote him in her column, defining him frequently, in print, as one of the most exciting newcomers to Hollywood.

  The idea for the film grew out of Parsons’ radio show, which was also called “Hollywood Hotel.” Launched in 1934 and sponsored by Campbell’s Soup, the program became one of the most listened to in America. The audience thought it was coming from a glamorous hotel, but in reality it was broadcast from a dreary booth at a radio station.

  William Paley, head of CBS, had come up with the idea for Parson’s radio program, and for four years running, it was one of the most popular on the airwaves. On a typical show, its Master of Ceremonies, Dick Powell, sang at least one song, and Frances Langford came out and did a blues number.

  Stars who included Jean Harlow and Clark Gable showed
up for chats with Parsons, who interviewed them about their latest happenings, which usually meant they had a new movie to promote. In those days, most stars got $1,000 for an appearance on radio, but in this case, Parsons gave each of them a crate of canned soup, usually tomato, as a gift from the sponsor.

  The plot of Hollywood Hotel (the movie) was relatively simple. Powell, the lead, played a singer and saxophone player, Ronnie Bowers, in the immediate aftermath of signing a ten-week movie contract. His (now redundant) employer, Benny Goodman, with his band, gives him an enthusiastic send-off, performing “Hooray for Hollywood,” as composed by Johnny Mercer, as part of the farewell. The number is belted into a microphone, onstage, by Langford and Johnnie Davis, an actor, singer, and trumpeter from Indiana who was making his film debut.

  “Hooray for Hollywood” (the song) became a standard and is still performed at movie award ceremonies, including some of the annual Academy Award presentations.

  As part of the film’s zany plot, Lola Lane, cast as the temperamental star Mona Marshall, doesn’t show up for a premiere. Instead, her lookalike, played by Lola’s real-life sister, Rosemary Lane, appears as an emergency substitute, fooling both Parsons and Reagan. Thus follows a series of convoluted misadventures, with the character played by Powell eventually falling for Virginia (Rosemary), who works as a waitress.

  Eddie Acuff (left) was Reagan’s confidant, but did a poor job of keeping his secrets.

  Two future movie stars, blonde-haired Carole Landis, and a redhead, Susan Hayward, appear in the film in uncredited roles. [Reagan would become intimately involved with both of them.] Landis was cast in the film as “the most glamorous hatcheck girl in Hollywood,” helping Mona’s daffy father, Hugh Herbert, on with his overcoat. At the age of nineteen, Hayward played the role of “a starlet at table.”

  On the set, Reagan arranged a reunion with actor Eddie Acuff, who had been his co-star in Love Is On the Air. Acuff later recalled, “Reagan and I often had a drink together afterwork. His reputation as a Hollywood horndog began on the set of Hollywood Hotel. I think he was trying to topple Errol Flynn’s seduction record. Apparently, Reagan didn’t make it with Rosemary and Lola Lane; he had already had Priscilla. He seemed to be lusting after Glenda Farrell, Frances Langford, Carole Landis, and especially a newcomer, Susan Hayward, who made the mistake of falling in love with him. He dated all of them, even though Frances was married to Jon Hall and our director, Busby Berkeley, was banging Landis. Undoubtedly, never again in his screen career would he meet so many beautiful young starlets willing to do his bidding. You might say that Hollywood Hotel represents the peak of his off-screen career as a Don Juan with a roving eye. Of course, never again would he be so young, so virile, and look that great, either.”

  “That Reagan was a sneaky little devil when he came to getting some nookie,” Acuff continued. “That year I also made a picture called The Singing Marine, in which this cute little dish, Jane Wyman, had a small part. I took her out on two occasions, but I don’t think she dug me at all. I was no Casanova like Reagan.”

  The film had an array of big name musicians, and Reagan often took his dates to hear one of the stars perform in the local nightclubs. He met Johnny Mercer, “The Genial Southern Gent from Savannah.”

  After talking with Reagan, Mercer said, “You’d be perfect for the role of Ashley Wilkes.”

  “Who in hell is Ashley Wilkes?” Reagan asked.

  “That means you haven’t read Margaret Mitchell’s novel, Gone With the Wind,” Mercer said. “I hear Jack Warner might buy it. You could be Ashley, with Errol Flynn in the male lead as Rhett Butler, and with Bette Davis playing Scarlett O’Hara.”

  “I’ll try to get a copy of it,” Reagan said.

  Later, Parsons shared some indiscreet gossip about Mercer: “He’s a perfect gentleman during the day. But at night, he can become vicious when he hangs out with Bing Crosby’s hard-drinking cronies. Bing is dating this starlet, Jane Wyman, who is right cute.”

  “My God,” Reagan said. “Everybody I meet keeps talking about this Jane Wyman.”

  “The other night at this out-of-the-way club, Mercer got really loaded and wrecked the joint,” Parsons said. “Bing paid for all the damages.”

  Reagan also met Georgia-born Harry James, who had appeared with Benny Goodman’s Orchestra before assembling his own swing band. In 1939, James became the first director of a “big-name band” to hire the young vocalist, Frank Sinatra. Reagan was conducting an on-again, off-again affair at the time, as mentioned previously, with Betty Grable, who would later marry James after her divorce from Jackie Coogan.

  Reagan also met Gene Krupa, a jazz and big band drummer, known for his high energy and flamboyant style. The Chicago-born musician invited Reagan to hear him play in a local dive. After watching his performance, Reagan defined him as “a Ball of Fire.”

  [In an ironic touch, Ball of Fire became the name of a 1941 film in which Krupa made a cameo appearance with Barbara Stanwyck and Gary Cooper.]

  Reagan was also drawn to Lionel Hampton. An African-American from Louisville, Kentucky, and the first jazz Vibraphone player, he was destined to become one of the great names in jazz history.

  Unlike some of his contemporaries, Reagan was not a bigot and was delighted to hear Hampton performing with the first racially integrated jazz group. As a drummer, Hampton performed stunts with several pairs of sticks, twirling and juggling without missing a beat.

  Hampton later said, “Those were hard days in 1937. Appearing with white musicians made it possible for Negroes to have their chance in baseball and other fields.”

  While hanging out with the stars of Hollywood Hotel, Reagan for the first time became interested in “the politics of the screen actor,” a commitment that would lead to his election, in 1941, to the Board of Directors of the Screen Actors Guild.

  Ted Healy, murdered by Wallace Beery

  He quickly learned that most actors were narcissistic, and didn’t want to talk about anything except themselves. In contrast, he was genuinely interested in their welfare, as he would demonstrate as president of the Screen Actors Guild.

  “I also learned the ropes of the movie business by listening to veteran actors share their experiences with me,” he said. “Those actors were Allyn Joslyn, Alan Mowbray, and Ted Healy. My experiences with each of them was different, but very enlightening in the ways of Hollywood.”

  After meeting Ted Healy one day on the set, the Texan invited him to bring a date and join him and his wife, Betty Hickman, to hear Gene Krupa on the drums. Healy had been instrumental in launching the slapstick comedy style of The Three Stooges. He appeared on stage with them until they broke with him in 1931 after a dispute over a movie contract. He had seen better days, having made a staggering (for the time) $9,000 a week when he was the highest-paid performer in vaudeville.

  Reagan, with Priscilla Lane on his arm, found the Healys delightful and amusing company, and a friendship was formed. “Let’s do this again,” Healy said at the end of the evening. He would later call and invite Reagan and Priscilla to a New Year’s Eve party scheduled at his house.

  They never attended that party. On December 21, 1937, Reagan was listening to the radio when he heard that Healy had died suddenly at the age of 41. Initial reports listed the cause of death as a heart attack. However, it was later reported that immediately prior to his death, he had suffered recent wounds, including a “discolored” left eye, a deep cut over his right eye, and bruises on his head, neck, and chest. Witnesses claimed that he had been involved in some altercation the night of his death at the Trocadero nightclub on Sunset Strip. His assailants were identified as a trio of “college boys.”

  Months later, the real culprits were revealed, but no charges were ever filed against them for either murder or manslaughter. The leader of the attack was said to have been actor Wallace Beery, the gravel-voiced, jowly, superstar and a “lovable lug” onscreen in many an MGM film. His cohorts were Albert (“Cubby”) Broccoli, later a
producer of the James Bond films. Pat DiCicco, Cubby’s cousin, was also said to have been involved. He was no stranger to scandal, having been implicated in the murder of his first wife, actress Thelma Todd. He later entered into an unsuccessful marriage to heiress Gloria Vanderbilt, during which he brutalized her.

  Reagan later said, “Hollywood is good at covering up a scandal and letting the real culprits take a walk.”

  ***

  During the filming of Hollywood Hotel, its producer, Hal B. Wallis, had shown up on the day where a shot involved Louella Parsons. He lavishly greeted her. When she left “to check my makeup,” he turned to Reagan. “I cast her because I decided that no one can play Louella better than Louella.”

  Perc Westmore had applied both Reagan’s and Parson’s makeup that day, and Orry-Kelly had created a simple black dress for her as a means of making her appear thinner. He then borrowed $165,000 worth of jewelry, a virtual fortune back them, to add to her glamour.

  As Parson’s biographer, George Eels, wrote: “During the filming, when Louella saw Lola Lane’s splashy movie queen gown, she found her simple black too drab. When Orry-Kelly refused to give her another, Louella screamed, swore, threatened, and threw a full-fledged tantrum. Finally, the temperamental designer, who was accustomed to having his way—even with stars—pretended to give in. The result: He designed a gown for Louella that made her look like a large floating island.”

  Weeks later, Reagan, a fellow by-product of Dixon, Illinois, escorted a very nervous Parsons to a screening of their newest film. “In the dark theater that awful night, I thought I heard a local critic laugh loudly when I appeared on the screen,” she later wrote.

  Grabbing Reagan’s hand, she rushed, sobbing, out of the theater and into the street. “I have never been so unhappy in my life.”