Roscoe Conkling
"Fatty" Arbuckle, the prototype fat comic, predecessor
of John Candy, Chris Farley, and dozens more, was born March
24, 1887, in Smith Center, Kansas.
Sadly, he
is far better known these days for his role (or non-role) in
a notorious party and death, than for his film career. Incidentally,
his friends never called him "Fatty."
By 1917,
Arbuckle had formed his own production company and was instrumental
in developing the career of Buster Keaton. He was one of the
highest paid stars in Hollywood. Indeed, everything seemed to
be going great for Roscoe until the infamous Labor Day party
of 1921, held at San Francisco's St. Francis Hotel.
One of the
party guests was an actress named Virginia Rappé, a young
woman who had five abortions before the age of sixteen. Rappé
and her lover, Henry 'Pathé' Lehrman, had been thrown
off the Keystone lot because of known venereal disease problems.
Along with
Rappé came 'Bambina' Maude Delmont, against whom California
police had filed at least 50 counts of extortion, bigamy, fraud,
and racketeering. Delmont was also known as a 'professional
correspondent,' for blackmailers.
Neither
Rappé nor Delmont were invited by Arbuckle to the party.
In fact, Arbuckle didn't invite anyone, since he wasn't the
host. Arbuckle had voiced concern about Rappé and Delmont
even being present, since their lowly reputation might cause
the party to be raided.
At 3:00
p.m., Roscoe Arbuckle decided to leave the party. He entered
his bedroom to change clothes. When he tried to enter the adjoining
bathroom, he found Virginia Rappé passed out on the bathroom
floor. Arbuckle picked up Rappé, and placed her on the
bed. She asked for a glass of water, which he gave her. At 3:10
p.m., Arbuckle left, fully clothed, to get help. When he returned
with others, they found Virginia Rappé, fully clothed,
and screaming in pain.
After belting
down 10 shots of hard liquor, Maude Delmont staggered in. The
hotel management was called, and Virginia Rappé was carried,
by Roscoe, to a nearby room. Maude Delmont followed, and passed
out on another bed. At this point, everyone assumed that Rappé
was suffering from nothing more than the effects of too much
liquor or an attack of slight illness. Arbuckle then left the
party to go sightseeing with a friend.
Four days
later, Virginia Rappé died of peritonitis, brought on
by a rupture of her Fallopian tubes, complicated by pus accumulation
in the tubes from gonorrhea.
Maude Delmont
came up with a different reason for Virginia's death: She went
to the San Francisco Police, and filed charges that Roscoe Arbuckle
had raped and caused the death of Virginia Rappé!
Later that
day, Roscoe was arrested for murder.
At this,
the national press - led by William Randolph Hearst's San Francisco
Examiner - had a field day. Banner headlines, proclaiming lurid
innuendoes about Arbuckle's private life, while portraying Rappé
as a latter day Virgin Mary, filled newspaper dailies throughout
the nation for weeks. Later, W. R. Hearst would brag that he'd
sold more newspapers on the Arbuckle case than on the sinking
of the Lusitania.
The public
reaction to these headlines was swift and brutal. Women's groups
across the United States condemned Arbuckle for his "immorality."
As far as the public was concerned, Roscoe Arbuckle had already
been found guilty of murder.
Meanwhile,
San Francisco's District Attorney Matthew Brady - basking in
the publicity of a murder trial that would only be matched by
the O. J. Simpson trial of 1994 - found out that his key witness,
Maude Delmont, was lying. Every time Delmont talked about what
happened in the hotel room, she gave a different story. Nevertheless,
Brady insisted on going forward with the case.
Judge Sylvain
Lazarus found Brady's case so weak that he had the charges reduced
from murder to manslaughter. He might have dropped them completely,
had it not been for the public uproar.
Roscoe remained
in shock. "I don't understand it," he said. "One
minute I'm the guy everybody loves, the next I'm the guy everybody
loves to hate."
On November
28, 1921, Roscoe Arbuckle took the stand and testified. District
Attorney Brady failed - in any way - to shake Arbuckle's testimony.
At the trial,
medical experts - for the prosecution and defense - agreed that
Virginia Rappé had died of a ruptured bladder, there
were signs of acute peritonitis, that Virginia Rappé
must have been in pain before the party, and that the ruptured
bladder was not caused by an outside source.
On December
4 - after 22 ballots - the jury returned, announcing that it
was hung, 11-1 for acquittal. D. A. Brady insisted on trying
Roscoe a second time. This jury was also hung.
On April
12, 1922, Arbuckle was acquitted in the third trial, and the
jury went out of its way to proclaim his total innocence.
Yet, on
April 18th, Roscoe Arbuckle became the first actor ever to be
blacklisted. Used as a scapegoat by Will Hays (president of
the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America) for
the ills of Hollywood, Roscoe found himself unemployable.
In 1925,
it was decided that Roscoe would be allowed to direct comedies,
as long as he didn't use his real name. He chose the alias "William
Goodrich," (or Will B. Good) after his father William Goodrich
Arbuckle. Arbuckle would use the Goodrich alias until 1932.
In early
1932, Arbuckle was signed to star in six two reel short comedies
by Jack Warner. Based on their success, he was signed by Warner
Brothers to make a feature length film--on June 28, 1933. But
coming eleven years after the needless blacklisting and constant
emotional stress, it was too little, too late.
Roscoe Arbuckle
died from heart failure, the very next day.
Buster Keaton
said that he died from a broken heart, and he was right.