The Hollywood Book of Death: The Bizarre, Often Sordid, Passings of More than 125 American Movie and TV Idols

by Parish, James Robert

  On January 20, 1993, Audrey passed away without fanfare. Among her final words were “Remember the children when I’m gone. Please make sure those poor starving babies get enough to eat.” In a simple statement to the press, her son Sean said, “Mother believed in one thing above all. She believed in love.”

  On Sunday, January 24, Audrey was buried in the cemetery at Tolochenaz. Seven hundred villagers stood outside as 120 invited guests attended the services. Among those on hand were Audrey’s first husband, Mel Ferrer; Prince Sadruddin Aga Khan; and actors Roger Moore and Alain Delon. Pallbearers for her unadorned oak coffin included sons Sean and Luca, companion Robert Wolders, designer Hubert de Givenchy, and ex-husband Andrea Dotti. The local mayor, Pierre-Alain Mercier, eulogized, “She was a star in France, England, the United States, Italy. But here she was just another neighbor. I used to see her working on her flowers, like anyone else, and we’d say hello. Everyone knew the same thing about her: she was a person like any other—not at all a star.” Audrey’s grave, atop a small knoll, was marked by a simple pinewood cross reading “Audrey Hepburn. 1929–1993.”

  On January 21, 1993, the day after her death, Audrey could be seen on television in the first installment of a six-part PBS documentary series, “Gardens of the World with Audrey Hepburn,” taped in 1992. On March 29, 1993, she posthumously received the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award, sharing it with Liz Taylor. Audrey’s award was accepted in a moving speech by her son Sean. Several fêtes in Hepburn’s honor followed thereafter, with proceeds donated to UNICEF.

  Perhaps the best tribute to this beloved star came from columnist Rex Reed, who wrote, “In a cruel and imperfect world she was living proof that God could still create perfection.” And as Elizabeth Taylor observed so aptly, “God has a most beautiful new angel.”

  Rock Hudson

  [Roy Harold Scherer Jr.]

  November 17, 1925–October 2, 1985

  At six feet, four inches and 200 pounds, the ruggedly handsome Rock Hudson was Hollywood’s ultimate screen hunk during the 1950s and 1960s. Women swooned over this All-American sex symbol during his two decades of TV, stage, and movie work. But then, in the mid-1980s, he contracted the HIV virus. At first Hudson kept the horrific fact secret, fearful that disclosure would reveal what he had been hiding for so many years—that he was gay. But when he developed full-blown AIDS, Hudson shocked the world by making the deadly diagnosis public. Too sick by this time to deliver the news himself (he was down to 97 pounds), Hudson’s words—dictated to his publicist Dale Olson—were read at a Los Angeles fund-raising affair by actor Burt Lancaster:

  I have . . . been told the media coverage of my own situation has brought enormous international attention to the gravity of this disease in all areas of humanity, and is leading to more research, more contribution of funds, and a better understanding of this disease than ever before.

  I am not happy that I have AIDS. But if that is helping others, I can at least know that my own misfortune has had some positive worth.

  As actress Morgan Fairchild said, “Rock’s illness helped give AIDS a face.” He was the first major star to publicly acknowledge that he was suffering from this disease.

  The future actor was born in Winnetka, Illinois, in 1925, the only son of an auto mechanic named Roy Scherer and his wife Kay (Wood) Scherer. When the boy was four, his father left for California and never returned. His mother later married Wallace Fitzgerald, a former marine officer. Throughout his childhood, Roy’s mother was the boy’s focal figure, as she would be in subsequent years. As a teenager, Roy was so impressed by Jon Hall’s athletic stunts in The Hurricane (1937) that he knew he wanted to be a movie star. After high school, Roy worked as a postal worker until he was drafted into the wartime U.S. Navy in January 1944.

  After his discharge in May 1946, Roy moved to Los Angeles, where he took a job as a truck driver. His photograph came to the attention of talent agent Henry Willson, who renamed him Rock Hudson (later claiming the catchy moniker came from the Rock of Gibraltar and the Hudson River). By 1949, Rock had a $125-a-week contract with Universal Pictures. Along with Tony Curtis and Jeff Chandler, Hudson became a staple in the studio’s action fare. By the time of the tearjerker Magnificent Obsession (1954), the studio was promoting Rock as the “Beefcake Baron.” Hudson had long been leading an active (but secret) gay lifestyle by the time he married, for the sake of his screen image, Willson’s secretary Phyllis Gates in 1955. They divorced less than three years later.

  Hudson gained professional credibility with his Oscar-nominated performance in Giant (1956). But it was his several screen comedies, including the popular Pillow Talk (1959, with Doris Day), that brought Rock to the peak of his career. These comedies led to several other romantic screen farces with such international personalities as Sophia Loren, Gina Lollobrigida, and Leslie Caron.

  Hudson’s studio contract days were over by the mid-1960s, but his fading career was salvaged by a TV detective series, McMillan and Wife (1971-76); it was known as McMillan from 1976 to 1977 after costar Susan St. James quit the program. After it went off the air, he alternated mostly between stage tours (an early example was I Do! I Do! in 1973) and made-for-TV movies, such as The Star Maker (1981). Just before his 56th birthday he underwent heart bypass surgery, later insisting that the strain of his flop television series The Devlin Connection (1982) “undid me.”

  In the fall of 1982, Rock met onetime bartender Marc Christian, who was 28 years Hudson’s junior. The friendship developed into a romance, and Christian moved into the star’s home. But by the time Hudson returned from making The Ambassador abroad, he knew he had AIDS. Because of the stigma, Hudson chose not to reveal his HIV-positive status to anyone—including, apparently, his lover. Determined to keep working despite his failing health, he signed up for a recurring role in the nighttime soap opera Dynasty during its 1984-85 season.

  Rock Hudson has matters in hand, holding a passed-out Leslie Caron, while Norma Varden looks on in A Very Special Favor (1965).

  Courtesy of JC Archives

  Meanwhile, in September 1984, Hudson checked into the Ritz Hotel in Paris while he underwent AIDS treatment at a local hospital. He quit the treatment after six weeks to return to Hollywood for his Dynasty segments; the last of his footage was telecast in March 1985. After filming the show, Hudson remained out of the limelight until July 1985. Then, looking horribly gaunt and much aged, he made a previously agreed-upon appearance on Doris Day’s new cable show dealing with pets.

  A few days later, Rock returned to Paris for further AIDS treatment. On July 21 he collapsed in the Ritz Hotel lobby, and on the 25th, what had been rumored for weeks was finally made public—Rock Hudson had AIDS. At a fee of $300,000, Hudson chartered a private jet to fly him to Los Angeles, where he entered UCLA Medical Center. While the star was struggling with the inevitable, he worked on his autobiography. (All Rock’s earnings from his book went to the newly created Rock Hudson AIDS Research Foundation.)

  By early fall of 1985, Rock was bedridden at The Castle, his Spanish-style estate high up on a ridge on Beverly Crest Drive in Beverly Hills. On September 26, he was so near the end that when Father Terry Sweeney visited the superstar, he gave him last rites. His close pal, actress Martha Raye, stopped by to say farewell. The dying man told her, “Dear heart, don’t cry. . . . I’m ready.” Nancy Walker, who had played the housekeeper on McMillan and Wife, showed up to play a final hand of cards with her friend. On October 1, Hudson’s good friends Pat and Shirley Boone were at the bedside vigil to pray for him. The next day at 9:00 A.M., just as the nurse was adjusting Hudson’s pillow, he sighed, gave a final shudder, and passed away. His body was cremated less than four hours later, and his ashes were scattered at sea on October 20. On the 19th, his longtime friend Elizabeth Taylor was among those hosting an exclusive memorial service at The Castle. Rock’s New York apartment (overlooking Central Park) was sold for $2 million; his Beverly Hills home was placed on the market for $4.7 million. The next April, some
of Rock’s belongings were auctioned at an exclusive Manhattan gallery.

  In 1974, Hudson had created a revocable trust as the beneficiary of his substantial estate, with longtime friend Tom Clark in charge of all possessions. But in August 1984, Rock had added a codicil which revoked Clark’s power in the will. Meanwhile, in late August 1985, Marc Christian had hired an attorney, Marvin Mitchelson. After Hudson’s passing, Christian and Mitchelson filed a lawsuit against the estate and several other individuals for $14 million in damages, claiming that Hudson had irresponsibly failed to disclose his communicable, fatal illness to his lover. In 1989, a Los Angeles Superior Court jury determined that Hudson had engaged in “outrageous conduct” by continuing in a sexual relationship with Christian without telling Christian he had AIDS. It gave a $21.75 million verdict in Christian’s favor. The case judge later reduced the “excessive” award to $5.5 million. The estate appealed, but in August 1991, a private settlement was reached and the appeal was dropped by both sides.

  The next time AIDS would receive so much global attention would be six years later, when the heterosexual sports star Magic Johnson revealed to the world that he was HIV-positive.

  Madeline Kahn

  [Madeline Gail Wolfson]

  September 29, 1942–December 3, 1999

  The delightfully offbeat Madeline Kahn originally dreamed of becoming an opera star. Instead, she “settled” for performing on Broadway in musical comedies and starring in Hollywood film and TV projects. On camera, the lithe talent with the quirky voice seemed to inhabit her own madcap world with rules she made up. The fact that she took humor so seriously made her offbeat appearances in Mel Brooks’s movies of the 1970s, and Bill Cosby’s TV sitcom of the late 1990s, all the funnier. But beneath the comedian and stage singer was a tough person who had survived much over the years. The personal happiness that always seemed to elude her had finally arrived later in life. But before Madeline had time to really enjoy it, she was struck down by cancer.

  Madeline was born in 1942 in Boston, Massachusetts. Her father, Bernard B. Wolfson, went off to serve in World War II while his wife, Paula, and daughter moved to New York City. After the war, Bernard became a dress manufacturer in Manhattan’s garment district. Paula, a frustrated would-be actress and opera singer, soon separated from her spouse. She worked at various times as an usherette, club singer, secretary, and model to support her daughter; Madeline only saw her father occasionally. At age five, she was sent to boarding school. A few years later she returned home when her mother wed Hiller Kahn, a TV repairman. The family moved to Queens, where Mrs. Kahn gave birth to Jeffrey, Madeline’s half-brother, in 1953. (The Kahns would divorce in 1957, when Madeline was 15.)

  Throughout much of her childhood, Madeline was an insecure, often withdrawn child, who spent much of her time letting her imagination run wild. Her mother had always encouraged her musical instincts, though, and had her daughter take lessons in piano, voice, and dance. Madeline made her performance debut singing a duet with a friend on a local radio show.

  At Martin Van Buren High School, Madeline was a loner. She was interested in theater and applied for a scholarship to Hofstra University on Long Island. There she first majored in drama and then switched to speech, planning to become a speech therapist. Nevertheless, she continued with her musical interests, both at school and at a professional opera workshop.

  After graduating, Madeline tried teaching briefly and concluded that she should be on the stage instead. She found work in the chorus of a City Center revival of Kiss Me, Kate (1965) and next sang (light) opera at an upstate New York rep company. Later, Madeline did revue shows at various Manhattan clubs and joined with friend Robert Klein on Broadway for New Faces of 1968. Off-Broadway, she was a hit in the musical Promenade. Next, she had an unhappy experience working with egocentric star Danny Kaye in the Broadway musical Two by Two.

  At age 30, Madeline made her feature-film debut in Peter Bogdanovich’s screwball comedy What’s Up, Doc? (1972). She held her own against the star, Barbra Streisand, and did equally well in Paper Moon (1973); she was Oscar-nominated for playing the floozy in that hit. She wasn’t so fortunate when it came to the movie-musical version of Mame (1974)- Its leading lady, Lucille Ball, first wanted Kahn for the part of Agnes Gooch, but then decided Madeline was too sexy for the role of the pregnant secretary and had her let go.

  Madeline Kahn in 1996.

  © 1996 by Albert L. Ortega

  A chance meeting at a studio cafeteria with filmmaker Mel Brooks led to their deliciously wacky partnership on-screen. He showcased her in his satirical Western, Blazing Saddles (1974), as the loopy, Marlene Dietrich-esque salon entertainer Lili von Shtupp. Madeline’s Oscar-nominated performance led to more roles in Brooks’s movies, including Young Frankenstein (1974), High Anxiety (1977), and History of the World: Part I (1981). Along the way, Kahn joined and then left the cast of the Broadway musical On the Twentieth Century (1978), but she still netted a Tony nomination for her work in it.

  In the 1980s, Madeline didn’t have much luck with either her film work or her two TV series: Oh Madeline (1983-84) and Mr. President (1987-88). She did win an Emmy for her work in the TV special Wanted: A Perfect Guy (1986). She was again nominated for a Tony Award, this time for the New York revival of Born Yesterday (1989, with Ed Asner). That same year both her father and her friend Gilda Radner passed away, leaving more gaps in her life.

  Madeline finally won a Tony Award for playing a Jewish matron, Gorgeous Teitelbaum, in The Sisters Rosensweig in the early 1990s. She also met a man with whom she felt comfortable, attorney John Hansbury. They dated, but maintained separate apartments. Then came her high-visibility role in the mostly African-American cast of Bill Cosby’s new sitcom, Cosby, which debuted in the fall of 1996. As the off-kilter Pauline Fox, friend and business partner of Phylicia Rashad (who played Cosby’s on-camera wife), Kahn again made her mark with the public. In the third season of Cosby, her old friend Robert Klein was on hand as her love interest on the series.

  After taping four episodes in August 1999 for the fourth season of Cosby, Madeline had to take a leave of absence from the sitcom. She had been secretly undergoing chemotherapy and other aggressive treatment for ovarian cancer (which had been first diagnosed in September 1998). Madeline had been using wigs to camouflage her thinning hair and relying on various excuses for her thinness and lack of usual energy. But now she found it too hard to continue with her part, although she had never complained of her pain during rehearsals.

  From August to November of 1999 Madeline was mostly in residence at Mount Sinai Medical Center having cancer treatment, but she refused to be morose. She would have her hair done and makeup applied if she knew friends were coming, and always had show music playing. That October 10th, she and John Hansbury, after 10 years of being together, married. The ceremony was held in the living room of her Park Avenue apartment. Reverend Florence Fleming of Mount Sinai Hospital presided, and Madeline’s brother, Jeff, was best man.

  A few weeks later, on November 4, Madeline went public with her long-kept secret illness, using the occasion to raise public awareness of ovarian cancer. During her last days, a constant flow of friends came to visit her. As each person left, she would offer them a rose “to remember me by.” She passed away on December 3, 1999, at age 57. Her husband and brother were at her side when she died. Never wanting people to cry over her, Madeline requested that no mourner wear black at her memorial service.

  Bill Cosby and the cast of his sitcom deeply missed her, and he dedicated the December 29, 1999, episode (“Loving Madeline”) to her. He showed series clips of the late actress and had cast members talk about their memories of working with Kahn. As a tribute to their fellow cast member, Madeline’s soundstage dressing room was left intact until the series went off the air in 2000. Other tributes included a bench that was dedicated in her honor in Central Park, as well as a memorial gala at Lincoln Center. There, numerous actor friends from her many years in show business
expressed their sadness at losing this great talent. But one of the best tributes to this unique actress, who always excelled in masterful timing, was her final film, Judy Berlin (2000), a project she was thrilled to have lived long enough to make.

  Michael Landon

  [Eugene Maurice Orowitz]

  October 31, 1937–July 1, 1991

  Michael Landon was a man of complex moods and a remarkable hunger for success. He had seen his father, a movie publicist, turned away from Paramount Pictures in 1954 when friends in the industry refused to put in a good word for him. This humiliating situation left a permanent impression on Landon, who resolved, “No matter what I did, I wasn’t going to owe anybody a favor. And I didn’t expect anything from anybody that had to do with business.... I wasn’t going to take any garbage from anybody, either.” The lean and lanky Landon literally grew up in front of the American viewing audience, who took him to heart during his many decades of performing. His sudden death from cancer in 1991, at age 54, was a personal loss felt by millions.

  The future star was born Eugene Orowitz in Forest Hills, New York. His Jewish father was an East Coast film publicist whose livelihood was falling apart; his Irish Catholic mother, Peggy O’Neill, had been a minor musical-comedy stage actress who became suicidal after Eugene’s birth and often expressed her wish that her son were dead, too. Eugene grew up in Collingswood, New Jersey, a predominantly white Protestant town that had scant use for a skinny little Jewish boy. With all his problems at school and in the tension-filled household, the youngster was a bed wetter even into his teen years. His mother chose to publicize her boy’s problem by hanging the bed linen out the window to dry, where any passersby could figure out what had happened. This upsetting chapter of Landon’s life would form the autobiographical background of his made-for-TV movies The Loneliest Runner (1976) and Sam’s Son (1985).