The custodian pressed his finger to his lips. Fuller nodded and followed him down the corridor to a door. There he waited as the man cracked it, just enough to catch a glimpse beyond its breadth. Slowly the door opened a little bit wider and a little bit more until the man was behind it and Fuller was through it.
Now he was in the grand foyer, where he’d been once before–where he’d been given the boot. From the foyer he walked directly to the Gold Room and through one of its ornate double doors.
Sure enough, there it was, polished to a pearly perfection, gleaming between heaps of splendid arrangements. As Fuller approached the dais he felt an uncomfortable flutter in his chest and a restriction of air; the overwhelming scent of floral didn’t help. Eighteen was much too young to be having a heart attack. He raised the massive lid.
It was just as the custodian said. The flowing waves of bleached blonde hair. The regal yet approachable slope of the nose. The sensuous mouth. The delicate hands folded across the fine fabric of a glamorous evening dress.
Fuller carefully closed the lid. Then he slipped out he same way he’d came in. Stealthily. Once on the street, he ran to the nearest phone and dropped a nickle into it. Shainmark, the editor New York Evening Graphic, answered.
“It’s true,” Fuller wheezed into the mouthpiece. “It’s her.”
“You’re absolutely sure? It’s Jeanne Eagels in the casket?” Shainmark quizzed.
“Yeah. It’s her.”
“Wait for me in the alley. I’m coming over there to see for myself,” Shainmark growled. “This is big, kid.”
“Yeah,” Fuller said.
He walked back to the alley excited but sad. This day, October 3, 1929, Samuel Fuller would remember for the rest of his life.
∼
In the 1920’s Jeanne Eagels was the most celebrated actress of stage and screen, and one of the world’s most beautiful women. Throngs thrilled to her theatrics, especially on Broadway where her portrayal of prostitute Sadie Thompson in the production of John Colton’s Rain, brought people to their feet in droves of ovations and adulation. To this day, she owns the role of the tough talking sailor’s trollop who seeks mercy from a pious missionary who is dangerously unfit to give it.
Ms. Eagels lived her by her own famous words, “Never deny. Never explain. Say nothing and become a legend.” And her philosophy proved correct; she drove her fans and the press into a frenzy of procuring and consuming every tidbit of information about her.
But poor health and compulsive behavior fueled a hotter fame than she bargained for, one that even her considerable talent could not tame. Chronic pain from a severe sinus blockage and an exhaustive touring schedule drove her to seek pain medications and street drugs, including heroin, just as it whetted an already strong appetite for drink. Rumors of this and of a prolific love life circulated like wildfire through tabloids such as the New York Evening Graphic where Samuel Fuller, a well read, ambitious high school dropout worked as a cub reporter.
Though he was new to the status of reporter, Fuller was already a veteran of the newsroom. In 1924, when he was all of thirteen years old he became a copy-boy (a teenager who literally ran copy from the reporters hands to various editors) for the William Randolph Hearst owned New York Evening Journal. From there he graduated to personal copy-boy for the Journal’s editor in chief, Arthur Brisbane. Through Brisbane, Fuller met the famed newspaper mogul who he found to be nothing like the character, Foster Kane, in Orson Welles Citizen Kane. He described Hearst in his excellent autobiography, The Third Face: My Tale of Writing, Fighting and Filmmaking,
“…in came a tall, heavyset man with oblique eyebrows and very sad eyes. When he talked he made birdlike noises. There was nothing pompous about him except for his very expensive-looking dark suit.”
Nor did he find Hearts’ mistress, actress, Marion Davies to be anything like her inspired character. About her, Fuller wrote,
“The one thing about Citizen Kane that irked me was the way Welles handled Marion Davis…I’d seen her on several occasions at Hearst’s apartment. Contrary to Kane’s empty headed Susan, Marion was smart, charming and funny.”
Although Fuller had apprenticed in the rarefied, highly respected air of the Journal, he jumped at the chance to produce his own bylines–and for a heftier paycheck–when, in 1928, he was approached by the New York Evening Graphic, a lurid tabloid featuring explicit crime scene photos and salacious headlines. There he quickly gained a reputation as a reporter with a knack for the sensational while covering suicide “jumpers.”
From photo journalists, Fuller learned to watch the feet of a prospective jumper poised on the ledge of a building. If the jumper shuffled his feet closer to the edge it usually meant bad news–so to speak. Then the photographers would time their shot so they would catch the jumper in mid air. From there it was up to Fuller to match the intensity of the photograph with his copy. He achieved this, not only by his skill as writer, but by shrewdly befriending the cops and technicians on the scene. When he asked for the suicide note he rarely walked away empty handed.
But it was more than just a calculating nature that prodded Fuller to rub shoulders with the working class. He broke bread with them because he was one of them. As such, he did not aspire to the power and grandeur of William Randolph Hearst, or to that of his mentor, Arthur Brisbane; he thirsted for the approval of the cogs that turned the wheel. The journalists.
Moreover, he empathized with the denizens of the street–the con artists, the prostitutes and the numbers runners that he covered. In them he saw apparitions of what might have been, if not for the hardworking, steady hand of his widowed mother who pleaded with him–to no avail–not to dropout when he was expelled for aiding and abetting a New York Evening Graphic story on teenage sex at the very high school he attended.
And so it was only fitting that his scoop on the heroin overdose death of Jeanne Eagels came by way of a custodian working at the funeral parlor where her body lay. Fuller had met the man while working on a story about the predatory and discriminating nature of the undertaking business.
As he waited for his editor in the alley behind the parlor he wrestled with the emotional turmoil of a journalist’s ethics and the morals taught to him by his mother. On one hand, he was happy about the opportunity to break the biggest story of his brief, but already brimming life. On the other, he mourned the loss of the talented, strong willed actress from Kansas City who had risen like a flaming, shooting star only to crash and burn on the pinnacle of her career at thirty-five years old. Within this conflict Samuel Fuller would find a gray zone in which he would abide and mine for the rest of his life.
“I’ll always remember the angelic expression on Jeanne Eagels’ face in that godforsaken coffin. Through her, I understood for the first time the quicksand nature of fame, a seductive mistress I’d never court.” Samuel Fuller-A Third Face: My Tale of Writing, Fighting and Filmmaking
To be cont’d…
Samuel Fuller is a true American icon…..can’t wait to see what comes next!!
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Glad you like it–so far. Thanks for reading, Michael.
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I recently found a copy of his fine war film “The Big Red One” which is one of Lee Marvin’s finest performances.
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I agree. You could really see Marvin’s process. I mean that as a compliment. He was really thinking and reacting the way his character would. He filled the silences.
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Lee Marvin was so good…..so unused to not seeing his films all over TV like we did growing up.
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Fabulous, Pam. I could see it all.
And I know nothing about the events, so I’m keen to read more.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Thank you, Pete. You may not know the name Samuel Fuller, but I bet you know some of the movies he directed. The Naked Kiss. White Dog. Pick up on South Street. The Big Red One…to name just a few.
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I’m looking forward to the next one Pam…thanks again.
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Thank you, Max, for reading.
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Pam, as always, I enjoy your storytelling. Looking forward to what comes next.
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Samuel Fuller was a interesting man who lived a fascinating life. I admire him very much, except for his penchant for taking the Lord’s name in vain. He was at forefront of journalism, pulp fiction, the liberation of the Nazi Falkenau death camp, as well as his legendary career as a film director. He also received the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart. I think you would be interested in looking into his life, DW. I offer him to you as you offered Flannery O’Conner to me.
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If you had to recommend the best starting point (apart from your blog, of course), what would you recommend?
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That’s hard. I would start with his first film, The Steel Helmet. From there I’d go to Pick Up on South Street; the Shock Corridor; then The Naked Kiss; then the The Big Red One. That’s my trajectory. There are many of his films that I haven’t seen.
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Thank you, Pam. I’m slow to get to things…but usually pretty persistent 🙂
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Hi Pam, I hope all is well with you and yours. Wanted to let you know I (finally) finished The Steel Helmet today. I never have enough free time to watch a whole movie, so I had to do it in two sittings. I found it very powerful and the ending “This story never ends” – wow! Thanks so much for the suggestion.
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Hi DW. Nice to hear from you. I’m pleased that you enjoyed The Steel Helmet. It is a very powerful film.
Racism is a recurrent theme in Fuller’s movies. He confronts it head on, just as he confronts the realities of war. Fuller abhorred sugar-coating. His religion was traditional journalistic standards–present the facts and let the people decide how they feel about it.
He made the Steel Helmet on a thread bear budget in ten days. He constructed a tank from plywood and cast the movie with mostly extras. A major studio was interested in his script (he wrote it) and they would have paid him handsomely for it, but they didn’t want him to direct it and they wanted John Wayne to star in it. Fuller flat out refused. Some people criticize the film as amateur–and it is. It was Fuller’s 3rd film. But that quality lends itself to the raw starkness, yes, sometimes, lawless desperation of war. Fuller was a witness to war. The Steel Helmet is the newsprint.
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Great start so far Pam 🙂 So many interesting details and when you mentioned Citizen Kane in this article, it reminded me of Fuller’s 1952 low-budget masterpiece Park Row, which is a newspaper drama and some people (those who have seen it) have often implied that it is Citizen Kane on a low-budget. Interesting isn’t it? 🙂 Anyway, keep up the great work as always 🙂
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Yes. I find Samuel Fuller to be a fascinating study. I haven’t seen Park Row yet, but I will. Thanks for stopping by.
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Not familiar with Sam Fuller or Jeanne Eagels. Fascinating as usual. Journalism is such an interesting world–or used to be. I’m reading a book called The Imperfectionists about a small paper in Rome and the lives of the ex-patriots who work there. What a constant hustle–I could never do it. And then the guy goes on to direct movies. Such brightly burning personalities, and they’re so three-dimmensional under your thoughtful writing.
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That’s very kind. I appreciate the praise, especially when it comes from a writer ( like you) that I respect.
Fuller is wonderfully fascinating. I love him so. He’s self taught at everything he did. He was unorthodox at everything he did. That’s true talent. He didn’t throw out the playbook, he never had one–so he created his own.
However. even though he was a tabloid journalist–he learned by watching the best in the field at The Journal. So he did have some formal training there and he could have stayed there under Arthur Brisbane’s tutelage, but Brisbane would have him graduate gradually from the bottom to the top and that’s not Fuller. Fuller dove in and just started swimming. God love him.
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That’s probably what it takes a lot of the time–if not all–to be really great at what you do. Sink or swim. I admire that a lot (since I’m terrible at picking up things on the fly, generally).
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Great early look at Fuller. He’s a favorite. PARK ROW is one of my favorite newspaper themed films. It’s a great look at heyday of the NY newspaper world and their wars. 40 Guns, The Steel Helmet, Fixed Bayonets, Pickup on South Street,Underworld USA, Shock Corridor, The Big Red One, and the controversial White Dog are all worth seeing.
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Fuller is amazing. I’m in love with him. I haven’t seen Park Row, but I need to. Haven’t seen White Dog either. There are several of his films that I have not seen.
I’m going to write about The Naked Kiss. I love that movie. I find it fascinating.
I’m glad that you are a Fuller fan–I was sure you would be. Thanks for commenting.
–Pam
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Would have loved to of sat on a porch with him smoking fat cigars and drinking Kentucky bourbon as he just told story after story. So many awesome films that inspired me through the infancy of my blog. Shock Corridor, Naked Kiss, House of Bamboo, The Steel Helmet, Pick Up On South Street. To name just a small few. All perfect in different ways. Still got a long way to go but his work is amazing. Yep I’d love to have sat there just listening. Can you imagine the stories he would have. Well you sure do. What a great article Pam
Oppft!!! the jumpers bit. All poised and ready, knowing that fateful shot was coming.
Shamed to say I didn’t know of Jeanne Eagels. Just read about her on Wiki. Very sad!
Of course I’m looking forward to part two. You left us hungry! you story tease!!
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Yay, Mikey! I knew you’d be a Fuller fan. If you were to direct a movie, I bet you’d be an instinctual craftsman/artist like he was.
I could see you and Fuller knocking back a few with Cuban toros in your hands. Ha! If only that could be…I wish Fuller was still with us. I love him so.
You’ve got to read his autobiography, The Third Face. It’s brilliant!
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I’m gonna look into The Third Face right now Pam. Sounds like a perfect addition to the wolf den.
I’m honored you would think that, of me directing that is! But more than likely it would turn into some crazed art house project looking something like folk singers Mulligan & O’Hare. LOL
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I don’t know what to say, Mikey…I’m overcome…Ha! It’s over my head. British humor so often is. I do love Absolutely Fabulous, though. Drugs, alcohol and embarrassment in the 80s. I can relate. Ha!
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I just love how run with it. Your account of the biography is probably better than the book. Your writing and blog are unique.
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Thanks Cindy. Nooo…Samuel Fuller’s s autobiography The Third Face is fantastic. You would love it, I’m sure. Fuller was a novelist too…a pulp novelist so his voice is this unique combination of a journalistic restraint–he was trained in straight journalism though he diverted into the tabloids–and dramatic flourishes. He was an amazing man. I love him.
Thanks for reading.
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Thanks for turning me on to him. I would enjoy The Third Face, no doubt!
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