By DICK SIEGEL, NATIONAL ENQUIRER online editor Jan 22, 2015 @ 5:33AM
Femme fatal film icon VERONICA LAKE fell from Hollywood heights to waiting tables in a sleazy women’s only hotel before succumbing to the ravages of alcoholism and mental illness at only age 50.
Veronica Lake was born in Brooklyn, New York on November 14, 1922 as Constance Frances Marie Ockleman. Her father worked for an oil company as a ship employee and died in a tragic oil tanker explosion.
Her ethereal beauty, natural charm coupled with a talent for acting prompted her mother and tubercular step-father to move to Beverly Hills, California, where they enrolled her in the Bliss Hayden School of Acting in Hollywood.
Although Connie had been previously diagnosed as a classic schizophrenic her parents saw acting as a form of treatment for her condition. She soon found work as a bit player in several unremarkable pictures but “Sorority House” director John Farrow (Mia Farrow’s father) saw how her long flowing hair always covered her right eye, creating an hint of allure and mystery. While still a teenager, Farrow introduced her to Paramount producer Arthur Hornblow who promptly changed her name to Veronica Lake.
Veronica’s breakthrough film was “I Wanted Wings” in 1941, a major box office hit.
She then became Paramount’s top female star toplining such classics as “Sullivan’s Travels”, “This Gun for Hire”, The Glass Key”, “So Proudly We Hail” and “I Married A Witch”.
“She was a very gifted girl, but shedidn’t believe she was gifted,” director Rene Clair recalled.
Often paired with diminutive star Alan Ladd, the couple made seven films together. At first it was out of necessity as Ladd was just 5 feet five while Lake was 4 feet 11 inch but the pair had undeniable on-screen chemistry
For a short time during the early 1940s, Veronica was at the height of Hollywood stardom.
During World War Two, the rage for her peek-a-boo bangs became a hazard when women in the defense industry would get their hair caught in machinery. Lake was staged in a publicity picture in which she reacted painfully to her hair getting “caught” in a drill press illustrating her hazardous ‘do. Finally, Lake famously cut her hair and, sadly, her popularity diminished.
By the early 1950’s Lake’s career had hit the skids.
Still battling schizophrenia, and in a state of paranoia, she began drinking heavily. As her mental state deteriorated further, with two failed marriages, Veronica became manic-depressive as her self-destructive addiction to booze pushed her over the edge.
Soon, with no film career and little alimony after an IRS forced bankruptcy, Lake drifted between cheap hotels in New York City. She was arrested several times for public drunkenness and disorderly conduct.
In 1963, a reporter found her working as a barmaid/waitress while living at the seedy all-women’s $7-a-night Martha Washington Hotel in Manhattan. In the hotel bar, Lake was working under an alias — Connie De Toth (“House of Wax” director Andre DeToth had been her second hubby).
Lake had never revealed her true name to her co-workers nor customers although her boss Joe Rauji at the Colonnade Bar knew who she was. “She’s a good girl but she’s had a hard time,” he told a reporter.
Lake later toiled at other bars including Greenwich Village’s famed One Fifth getting a steady paycheck and a never ending stream of booze.
The widely circulated news reports of her plight led to some minor TV and film work but Lake soon made a financial comeback by penning her memoirs.
With the profits from her best selling tell-all, Lake co-produced and starred in her last film, “Flesh Feast” (1970), a micro-budget horror movie with a Nazi-myth storyline. It bombed.
After another failed marriage and brief sojourn in England, Lake returned home.
She was already “pretty far along” when she was admitted to the Fletcher Allen Hospital in Vermont, doctors said.
Finally, in the early morning hours of July 7, 1973, Veronica Lake died from hepatitis and acute renal failure — seemingly alone and forgotten at the age of 50.
That is, until the news broke, when suddenly EVERYONE remembered.
Remember the “good old days” at the drive-in? Yeah, me neither. Apparently, I’ve BEEN to one, but was too young to remember. That would’ve been 1976, so the tail end of the blaxploitation era and the time before home video would make drive-ins moot. Enjoy the memories (or not!) from Flashbak!
An interesting interview with a fascinating man–you’ll get the ins and outs of making truly shoestring budgeted movies ($13,000 in 1971 still didn’t add up to much! To compare: The Three Stooges beat-em-to-the-punch short You Nazty Spy! cost 2-3 times as much in 1939 dollars!) You’ll also learn that they may have had the killer in their hands, but he slipped away. You’ll also get the ins and outs of running a pizza franchise! Enjoy, and also read the rest of the stuff at the Temple of Schlock.
How did Ed Wood get the title of “World’s Worst Director?” (Then again, we’d also have to ask how William “One Shot” Beaudine was at least the runner-up, even though he was once a highly regarded director.) Of course, we can put most of the blame on the doorstep of the Medveds, who deemed Ed “the worst” with their Golden Turkey tome. I can only imagine that they hadn’t seen very many movies from the period they were in, because NONE of the Dolomite movies made the cut, but Trouble Man did?! Why not just throw Super Fly and Shaft in there too, since we’re complaining about blaxploitation films with kick-ass soundtracks…
Anyhoo, where was I going with this? Oh, that Ed Wood wasn’t the world’s worst director–far from it. I can name at least THREE worse directors off the top of my head: Bill Rebane/Herschell Gordon Lewis (Monster-A-Go-Go/Terror at Half Day); Larry Buchanan (Zontar: The Thing From Venus); Coleman Francis (all three of his films); Doris Wishman (Double Agent 73, Let Me Die a Woman); Ted V. Mikels (The Girl in Gold Boots, The Doll Squad)…the list is literally endless!
I think the problem lies with Ed Wood’s films being better than “so bad they’re good.” There’s something about Wood’s films, even the cringetastic Orgy of the Dead and The Revenge of Dr. X that makes them watchable. You’re not yelling at the screen at the stupidity of the writing. (The CLUNKINESS, maybe, but not the stupidity!)
Anyhoo, take a look around the site and enjoy the Den of Geek!
You knew it was coming–there was no way I could talk about Flesh Feast, Hitler, and anti-aging maggots without bringing up #Nazisploitation!
I’d love to think that Flesh Feast (1967, released in 1970) was the first film to explore Nazisploitation, but that would make me forget this…
They Saved Hitler’s Brain (1962)
The Great Dictator
The Nazty Nuisance
And of course, You Nazty Spy!
Of course, it goes without saying…Stooges did it first! But seriously, Nazisploitation was going on even before the world knew of most of the atrocities Hitler (and the allies, but we’re focusing on Hitler/Nazisploitation now) were committing. The “Throw him in a concentrative camp!” joke Moe makes is odd–people were using black humor as the war was going on to stay sane? Granted, that joke was better than the Stooges’ other war efforts, in particular 1944’s No Dough, Boys and The Yoke’s On Me. (That one is particularly ugggggggggggg….)
So, IS there a “true” beginning of Nazisploitation, or is it a case of many people having the same idea at roughly the same time? I’m thinking a little of both, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t a Poverty Poverty Poverty Row studio out there that somehow managed to beat Columbia to the punch and released a short in 1938!
And now for something completely different–a look back at the world of vintage advertising! Whether it’s movies, or meat, retro ads had some…issues. I love meat as much as the next person (maybe more!) but looking at these ads…bring on the broccoli!
While you’re salivating over the meat, take a look at all the other stuff over at Flashbak!
Hoo, boy! Is this a stinker, or is this a stinker? In fact, it stinks so badly, the star of the film didn’t live long enough to see it completed! Pier Angeli committed suicide before filming was completed. Now, I can’t say whether or not this terrible film assisted her decision in any way. In fact, it’s impossible to say–however, if I were already pre-disposed to depression, and I was working on a film like this, or working ANY job that is just gut-bustingly horrible, I might be more inclined to take a few more Nembutals with my champagne dinner.
Now that I’ve gotten you thoroughly depressed, cheer yourself up with a visit to the good folks at the Monster Shack Reviews site. Not only do they have oldy-moldy-goldies like Octaman, they’ve also got modern movies, from the 2010s!