The Celebrity Sex Register

Although professionally acquainted with many actresses, I have learned--unfortunately, the easy way, as an armchair sexual athlete, book open before me--that to make love to a movie star is arrogance, pure folly or a heroic adventure at least as perilous as hang gliding. The crash comes, of course, a decade--perhaps several decades--later, when she brings out her book and tells all the world about you. No, not about your perfect musical pitch or incredible perception, not about your total recall of Shakespeare's sonnets or of selections from Robert Frost. What the lady will remember is your staying power. How good you were, and how often. And expect no mercy for any of your shortcomings. Neither thinning hair nor insufficient funds, temporary impotence nor premature ejaculation can stay these tattle-tales from the ruthless completion of their memoirs.

Is anything sacred today? Very little, it seems. Everyone kisses and tells. Some tell and sue for palimony as well. So many bedroom secrets have already been spilled that comedienne Joan Rivers, as a guest reviewer in The Hollywood Reporter of John Huston's autobiography, began her appraisal by noting: "Hooray! John Huston never slept with Shelley Winters!" Along with Shelley, whose accomplishments are substantial, of course, came Susan Strasberg, Elizabeth Ashley, Evelyn Keyes and a bevy of other bruised but relatively insignificant ministars whose careers held far less interest than their bouts with drugs, booze, bad marriages and the men they had taken to bed. The assumption seems to be that a celebrity "into O.D. sex" (Ashley's line) is automatically newsworthy, or at least worth wading through.

In an effort to create some order out of the sexual chaos found between the hard and the soft covers of innumerable memoirs, confessions, indictments, unauthorized exposés and loosely edited collages of hanky-panky among the high and the mighty, Shirley Sealy's The Celebrity Sex Register appeals openly to the reader's prurient interest without excessive foreplay. It answers directly such questions as who did what and to whom, and whether they did it on a casting couch or in the back of a Rolls or flagrante delicto. With notable exceptions, the emphasis is on an older, golden generation of superstars, whose personal lives may have been as trashy as they were flashy but were seldom irredeemably dull. Most are Hollywood-based, let's face it, because sex in Bel Air and environs has always been more compelling than sex in Buffalo or El Paso.

It's curious but true that many more women than men seem ready to shuck their inhibitions in print, and there lies a subject that Hite or Masters and Johnson might profitably explore. Even when they do take up their pens, menfolk tend to be far more reticent. Eddie Fisher, Stewart Granger and Jackie Cooper were franker than most in their 1981 autobiographies, while John Huston's An Open Book closed the door on a good many pungent details, even to the point of omitting the name of his least favorite wife. Huston may be hooked on the old-world notion that a true gentleman doesn't chase tail, then chuckle about it behind the barn.

What you'll find here are mere daisy chains of indiscretions (see film circles, page 268) to indicate who's had whom and how they link up. Some amazing progressions and striking combinations occur--Jackie Cooper with Joan Crawford, Tyrone Power with Errol Flynn, Howard Hughes with practically everyone but Jackie Cooper and Lassie. The cumulative effect here is like a parlor game, a kind of erotic La Ronde with famous players in for the spin. Happily, nearly everyone scores.

If you are a celebrity yourself, given to impulsive liaisons within your peer group, better line up a literary agent and beat your partner to the punch. Bear in mind that she, or he, may be given a six-figure advance to recall your pathetic, fumbling advances at a patio party in Malibu. Incorrigible debauchees who don't want to find their names in future editions of this almanac may choose several courses of action: (A) Don't sleep with anyone who owns a notebook or a tape recorder; (B) don't sleep with anyone; (C) ask your conquests to sign a preconsummation waiver. Otherwise, just undo those pajama strings and Devil take the fine line between true love and True Britt.

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Circle Number One

Warren Beatty and Susan Strasberg: It was in Rome. Warren had just completed The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone (with Vivien Leigh) and moved in with Susan for what she calls his "vacation." Warren had "a tremendous need to please women as well as conquer them," notes Susan, and his needs could sometimes become urgent. They were at a party at Luchino Visconti's (the Italian director found Beatty "enchanting"), when Warren pulled Susan into a bathroom and locked the door. She laughed nervously, complaining, "Isn't it a little close for that in here?" But Warren managed--very well. When he asked her to go to Paris with him, however, she begged off.

Susan Strasberg and Richard Burton: Young Susan's second Broadway play was Time Remembered, co-starring Burton--who literally swept her off her feet, lifting her into the air, hailing her as his "beautiful Hebrew princess." Out of town with the show, she "longed to consummate things" with Richard, but darn, she'd forgotten to take her diaphragm. Later, after their smash New York opening, she threw herself into the affair "with total abandonment and passion. . . . I did not care about the consequences." Richard sometimes slept with Susan at her parents' place, and she admitted to some guilt at making them coconspirators. But her mother, Paula, was actually delighted, having always dreamed that daughter Susan "would have affairs with the great writers and actors of our generation." Then came the misery of those nights when Burton didn't come. Didn't even call. At play's end, Richard returned to Switzerland--with his wife, Sybil--leaving Susan to "a period of hysteria." Reunited in New York six months later, they drank champagne, had sex. And suddenly, Strasberg began to see that Burton was, well, "human."

Richard Burton and Jean Simmons: On Burton's first trip to Hollywood, in 1951, he and Sybil were long-term house guests of fellow Britons Stewart Granger and his wife, Jean Simmons. Away from the house, Jean and Richard were co-starring in The Robe, and that wicked Welsh charm began to work--as it had on virtually all of Burton's leading ladies. Whatever did or did not happen between the two, the situation remained stable until a New Year's Eve party at which Richard bussed Jean instead of Sybil as the clock struck 12--which prompted mild-mannered Sybil to strike Richard. The Burtons found their own living quarters soon after.

Jean Simmons and Stewart Granger: Granger was 34 and divorced; Simmons was 18 and the most sought-after young actress in England when their "flirtation" began. They made a film together, Adam and Evelyne, and tried to be discreet about their private Eden. As Granger notes, Jean was the darling of the British press, and "I could imagine their reaction to her first love being old swashbuckling Granger." Their engagement was announced on a trip to Hollywood, and it was Cary Grant who suggested that his buddy Howard Hughes might be able to arrange a romantic private wedding for the couple. Soon Stewart and Jean were whisked to Tucson in Hughes's plane; Michael Wilding was whisked in from New York to be their best man. The ceremony was conducted in the home of Hughes's lawyer. Jean giggled, got hysterical and choked on her champagne. That night, Stewart climbed into bed with a book while she fell asleep. "That was a big mistake. . . . I would live to regret it," wrote Granger. Another regret turned out to be the newlyweds' involvement with Hughes--who bought up Simmons' contract and wouldn't let her work for anyone else (thus, she lost Roman Holiday to Audrey Hepburn). Convinced that "the s.o.b." was propositioning his wife, Granger got drunk one night and planned how to murder the billionaire. Instead, they settled their differences through legal action. So did the Grangers--finally pulled apart by acting assignments, frequent separations, economics, incompatibility. They had been married ten years and had a daughter, Tracy. After their 1960 divorce, Granger left his Southern California ranch and returned to England. Jean subsequently married director Richard Brooks. That didn't work, either.

Stewart Granger and Hedy Lamarr: With his buddy Michael Wilding, Granger attended a party in Hedy's hotel suite in Paris. She invited him to tarry after the others left. Alone with the glamorous star, Granger didn't know quite what was expected. Lamarr stared at him in astonished outrage: "My God. I don't believe you want to . . . ! Kings want to. Heads of studios want to. Presidents want to. Why don't you want to?" Granger protested that he did want to. She advised him to hurry, then, because she had a hairdresser's appointment. He undressed and approached her naked body on the bed. "If only she had shut up and stopped giving orders, the ordeal might have been consummated with (continued on page 268) Celebrity Sex Register (continued from page 152) some pleasure. . . . I was starting to become aroused when she gave her last instruction. 'Now, don't come too fast, will you?' That was it." Granger beat a hasty retreat but later had second thoughts. Says he, ruefully, "I mean--Hedy Lamarr."

Hedy Lamarr and John F. Kennedy: "I've met all the great ones," Hedy boasted. Young Kennedy was in liberated Paris; so was she. He called for a date: she said sure, but only if he'd bring her some oranges. (Wartime food rationing was still on.) "An hour later, he was climbing my steps with a brown paper bag full of oranges." After Kennedy delivered. Hedy recalls, they had a wonderful time.

John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe: After both J.F.K. and MM were dead, columnist Earl Wilson reported numerous secret meetings between them during Kennedy's White House years. And a new version of the story comes from a former intimate of Marilyn's, photographer/biographer David Conover. He writes that she called him one night early in 1962 and announced breathlessly, "I did it! I did it! . . . I made it with the Prez." Conover asked. "Who?" She giggled and explained that she had "made it" with President Kennedy, which was something she'd planned and dreamed about. The "historic event" (Conover's words) took place in Palm Springs, at Bing Crosby's house, she told him. "Sometime between midnight and two A.M. We were walking together in the moonlight across the sand dunes. It happened so suddenly. . . ." She sounded thrilled and happy. Conover reports. He advised Marilyn to "play it cool."

Marilyn Monroe and Marlon Brando: In his novel/biography about Monroe, Norman Mailer refers to MM's "curious innocence about sex--once, after going to bed with Marlon Brando, she said next morning to Milton Greene, 'I don't know if I do it the right way."' But then, muses Mailer, "Which of us does know?"

Marlon Brando and Shelley Winters: They became pals and occasional lovers during their early days in New York and later schmoozed around together in Hollywood. One night, when she was on a downer about her long-running affair with the very married Burt Lancaster. Brando took Shelley out for drinks and dinner, told funny stories to lighten the mood. Quoting Shakespeare, he said. "'Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love."' Shelley slapped him for that. "After all, it was my heartbreak. He returned the slap with a kiss, which got so passionate that the maitre de interrupted us with the suggestion that we didn't want the entree after all, and if we wanted to go home. . . . That's exactly what we did." Brando was still at Shelley's at five A.M., when Lancaster started pounding on the door. At her insistence, Marlon escaped via the roof--leaving behind his sneakers. Moments later, as Shelley welcomed Burt into her bedroom. "I started to draw the drapes to shut out the sunrise, and looking down. I saw Marlon limping down Santa Monica Boulevard."

Shelley Winters and Howard Hughes: At a gala New Year's Eve party. Shelley started talking to a tall, skinny fellow in a shiny tux and tennis shoes. She thought he was "some poor guy named Hugh Something," until later, in the powder room. Ava Gardner thanked her for taking Howard Hughes off her hands. He asked Shelley for a date the next day and came by for her at the appointed hour. Shelley's father, a tailor, suggested to Hughes that he "come down to the Peerless Pants Company, where he could get him a new jacket wholesale. One without patches on the elbows. Later Hughes did just that." Shelley's first date with Howard started with dinner in an abandoned restaurant, followed by a screening of Hell's Angels (directed by Hughes, starring Jean Harlow) in an abandoned theater. At the end of the evening, he shook her hand. "I felt a little strange, as if something had happened and I hadn't noticed," writes Shelley. Other strange encounters followed, but Hughes did many favors for Shelley in years to come. Indeed, he was famous for his favors. As is Winters for hers.

Howard Hughes and Debra Paget: For a while in the Fifties, the dark-haired Debra, who was then queen of the costume epics, sported a huge diamond on her left hand. It was identified (by Walter Winchell) as an engagement ring from Howard, who was often engaged but who subsequently married Jean Peters.

Debra Paget and Elvis Presley: She was his co-star in Love Me Tender, Presley's first film. Her cold-shoulder treatment just made his pursuit more intense. Most of their dates were at Debra's home, however, watched over by her strict mom. Debra today admits that Elvis asked her to marry him but her family didn't like the idea. "He was a very sweet, very simple kind of person," she recalls. "He just liked to get on his motorcycle and go off into the night."

Elvis Presley and Natalie Wood: Elvis was on the rebound from the sultry Paget when he met Natalie, "a pixyish teenager in pedal pushers and babushka." Elvis was obviously Mr. Wrong, and she was fascinated. Natalie accepted an invitation for a week's visit in Memphis, "chaperoned" by Nick Adams. Every day it was the same routine: Elvis signing autographs, eating ice cream, cruising the streets in his convertible and signing more autographs. When Natalie asked Elvis why he put up with such an invasion of privacy, he said that he owed his success to his fans; it was his duty. Natalie found Elvis strange. She went home to L.A.

Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty: They were "an item" after Natalie's first marriage to Robert Wagner had ended in divorce. At the same time, coincidentally, Wagner was in London seeing Joan Collins. Beatty's former live-in girl. Warren, sniffed Joan, "had not found it disadvantageous to his burgeoning career to be seen dating Natalie, a major star." Between marriages, in 1964, Natalie starred in Sex and the Single Girl.

(Back to Warren Beatty and Susan Strasberg to close first circle.)

Circle Number Two

Howard Hughes and Errol Flynn: Yes, Howard Hughes and Errol Flynn. One Johnny Meyer, who worked for both Flynn and Hughes at different times but for the same reason (as a pimp, to acquire both male and female hustlers), claims that he actually set Flynn up with Hughes, "in a spirit of outrageousness." Meyer's story, as recounted by Flynn's biographer Charles Higham: The meeting between H.H. and E.F. was in Santa Barbara; it was late at night at a private home. Flynn arrived, looking drunk; then Hughes, "looking right and left and creeping into the house under a heavy felt hat." Later, Meyer drove off "like a bat out of hell," terrified that the "Feds" might close in. "I have no idea whether they went to bed or not," Meyer added, "but I think it is likely."

Errol Flynn and Tyrone Power: Yes, Errol Flynn and Tyrone Power. The source here is again Johnny Meyer, via Higham. Ty was about 24 and his wife, Annabella, was away when he began an affair with the 30-year-old Flynn. They met sporadically and in secret at the home of director Edmund Goulding, known to have homosexual leanings. Meyer assumed that Flynn was the "male" in the relationship, with Ty "very much the female" and very much in love. Although Errol's ruthlessness caused a breakup. Meyer says that their sexual relationship resumed in Mexico after the war, when Ty was ending an affair with "a famous Latin lover of the screen." Again, alas, it did not last long. "Tyrone wanted things done to him Errol found repellent. . . . Errol preferred oral sex with men."

Tyrone Power and Judy Garland: Judy was still an impressionable teenager when she fell hard for Ty, already a big star and, at that time, a World War Two Marine. In order to preserve Judy's wholesome image, L. B. Mayer sent out word that no public mention was to be made of the Power/Garland liaison, "and Louella obeyed." The biographers who write of the two stars have different versions of the affair: Hers say it was a "brief romantic interlude," while his say it was a great love affair that caved in under pressure by MGM--and by the trauma of an abortion. (Or was Judy's only abortion the result of a pregnancy by her first husband, David Rose?) Some Hollywood insiders speculated that Judy and Ty still intended to be married when he returned from the Marine Corps. Instead, he began dating Lana Turner. "It was the ultimate blow to Judy's ego. . . . She would never love anyone again as deeply as she loved Tyrone."

Judy Garland and Jackie Cooper: Because adolescent Judy and Jackie looked good together, MGM and their mothers decided it would be a fine idea if they became "an item." Their arranged dates would include a movie, a soda with two straws. Once, Judy asked Jackie if she could kiss him. He said yes, "and so I was in love." But Judy put an end to the romance when she fell for an "older man" of 16 (Jackie was almost 14). Then one night, long years after their early MGM days. Judy asked Jackie to take her home from a party. He recalls: "We had a rowdy old time. . . . She was a big girl, and I was a big boy, and it was a great night. But I knew that was all it was, and I didn't even try to call her again."

Jackie Cooper and Joan Crawford: Seventeen-year-old Jackie would often visit the Crawford manse to play badminton. She was a friend of his mother's and about the same age. One day, Joan caught Jackie giving her the once-over. She said, provocatively, "You're growing up, aren't you?" Then she told him he'd better go. "Instead, I made a move toward her. . . . She stood up, looked at me appraisingly, then closed all the drapes. And I made love to Joan Crawford, or, rather, she made love to me." The performance was repeated at least eight or nine times over the next six months, says Jackie. "She was an erudite professor of love . . . a wild woman. She would bathe me, powder me, cologne me." At times, Jackie thought Joan quite a "crazy lady." but in lovemaking. "she was all business . . . very organized. When I left, she would put me on her calendar for the next visit." Finally, she told him their affair had to end: he must put it out of his mind, as if "it never happened." Cooper recalled that he held back the urge to blab. When his friends talked about their conquests with some "pimply-faced teenager," he'd nod and think to himself: But I have been with one of the Love Goddesses of the Screen.

Joan Crawford and William Dozier: When she needed an impressive escort for some gala. Joan often called on the noted swinger and talent agent turned producer Dozier. He was with her the night she fell into a snit over the fact that Greg Bautzer (her longtime man) was escorting Ginger Rogers. And then, Dozier had the nerve to ask Babs Stanwyck to dance! Joan left the party alone, and when Dozier tried to see her later, Crawford's maid said that her mistress had retired for the night. Now in a snit himself, he threw a handful of gravel at her bedroom window and left. The next day. Dozier got flowers and an apology from Joan: "Please forgive a poor, frightened little girl."

William Dozier and Joan Fontaine: He was head of RKO Studios when, in May 1946 in Mexico City, he took Joan for his bride. She recalled that the cinco de mayo fireworks were bursting outside their window as "Mrs. William Dozier had a wedding night to remember!" Back in Hollywood, Joan and Bill formed their own production company and, for a while, their lives were filled with happy activity. "We traveled, entertained, chartered yachts. Bill had a Cadillac. I had a four-door Lincoln Continental convertible." When their daughter, Debbie, was less than a year old, however, her parents were going their separate ways. Joan was his second wife; Bill was her second husband.

Joan Fontaine and Aly Khan: The Middle Eastern playboy prince loved movie stars and was just divorcing Rita Hayworth and getting involved with Gene Tierney about the same time he met Joan in Paris. She got the full treatment. First there was Aly's standard "roomful of roses," plus lunch at Maxim's, along with a small present from Cartier's. Then, Joan recounts. "In his Ferrari, we dashed to his horse farms to name his foals. We raced to Deauville, where we galloped along the beach . . . . we attended galas at the casino . . . and swam in the Mediterranean at his villa." God, those were the days.

Aly Khan and Zsa Zsa Gabor: It was in Paris again. And approximately the same time Khan was giving Tierney and Fontaine the big rush. When he met Zsa Zsa, he looked into her sparkling Hungarian eyes and said. "You're one of the few women in America I've longed to meet." The morning after their first dinner date, Zsa Zsa's room was, of course, "filled with roses." She thought the prince charming, debonair and all that. But, as they danced, she remembers. "Somehow I sensed that while our cheeks touched, his eyes were sweeping the room, alert for a new face, a new adventure." Meanwhile, Zsa Zsa would do.

Zsa Zsa Gabor and Greg Bautzer: A showbiz lawyer (Howard Hughes was among his more notable clients), Bautzer was seen with many famous filmland beauties during the Forties and Fifties (and Sixties, Seventies and Eighties, for that matter). Zsa Zsa was one of the many. In fact, Bautzer was her date the night she met husband-to-be Conrad Hilton, the hotelier. However, Gabor's autobiography says less about Greg than about the gown she was wearing at the time--"shimmering dark-blue satin with turquoise embroidery."

Greg Bautzer and Lana Turner: Greg was Lana's first publicized Hollywood affair, and everyone approved--MGM and her mom most of all. The studio liked Bautzer's "maturity" and steadying influence on 19-year-old Lana: Mom liked him because he was rich and good-looking. The couple's engagement was taken for granted. Later, Lana would say: "I was engaged to Greg Bautzer. That is, if anyone can claim actually to be engaged to this astute escape artist." Anyway, their relationship went poof when Lana eloped with Artie Shaw on her 20th birthday (while Betty Grable was back in New York waiting for Shaw to marry her, maybe . . . but that's another story).

Lana Turner and Howard Hughes: Howard and Lana grandly declared that they would announce their engagement after a madcap flight from New York to Los Angeles in Hughes's private plane--with Hughes at the controls, natch. Neither party explained what exactly happened up there in the wild blue yonder, but when the plane touched ground, Hughes and Turner weren't speaking and the engagement was off. When Lana reportedly complained that she'd already had her sheets and towels monogrammed H.H., Howard helpfully said, "Go marry Huntington Hartford."

(Back to Howard Hughes and Errol Flynn to close second circle.)

Circle Number Three

Warren Beatty and Britt Ekland: In her autobiography, Britt just can't say enough about Warren: "The most divine lover of all. . . . Warren could handle women as smoothly as operating an elevator. He knew exactly where to locate the top button. One flick and we were on our way." The way led from a whirlwind time in London to Beatty's pent-house pad atop the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. There, they spent days sunbathing naked on the terrace. "Warren would drift in and out of the suite, making drinks for us and occasionally taking a call from a studio to set up fresh movie deals." Years after. Warren resurfaced in Britt's life, but she had become immune to his charms. "Warren had made himself too available; it seemed to me that practically anyone could have him." And nearly everyone did.

Britt Ekland and Peter Sellers: On their first date, in London, he took her to see The Pink Panther, then back to his hotel for caviar and champagne, marijuana and kisses. Although their debut abed was not exactly awe-inspiring, they tied the knot a few weeks later, in February 1964. Sellers was 38; Britt, 21. Within days, "his incredible affection had soured rapidly into a habitual jealousy," writes Britt, and he forced her to give up her first big movie role and fly to him in Hollywood. In his search for the "ultimate orgasm," she reveals. Sellers often used amyl-nitrite "poppers," which might have brought on the series of devastating heart attacks that almost killed him that spring. He was barely out of the hospital, however, before they were at it again--in the shower. A daughter, Victoria, was born in early 1965: the marriage proceeded on its stormy course until Peter literally threw Britt out of their hotel in Rome in the middle of the night. That's not all, charged Britt: The next day, he got the captain of his yacht, the Bobo, to put all of her belongings on the pier!

Peter Sellers and Mia Farrow: After Britt, Peter found consolation, but only briefly, with Mighty Mia, who had just divorced Frank Sinatra. Britt noted with some irony that after she married Sellers, he forced her to give up a role in the film Guns at Batasi. And who was her replacement? Right. Mia.

Mia Farrow and Frank Sinatra: As the 19-year-old star of the TV series Peyton Place, she was thought of as a "rebellious, unglamorous, unsexy-looking teenager." Sinatra, at 50, was one of the best catches around, and Mia caught him. Frank didn't like all the jokes about their age difference ("He's got ties older than she is"). After an on-again, off-again courtship, they managed to sneak away for a Las Vegas wedding in July of 1966. They seemed so much in love: Frank gave her "a car, a horse, diamonds." But Mia wasn't into expensive baubles. More the flower child than the pampered wife, Mia became captivated by Indian gurus: she took to hanging out at Arthur (a New York discothèque), where, allegedly, one could "get all the guru news." In early 1968. Mia went to India to meditate with the Maharishi, which only widened the growing rift with her husband. "Mia went back to Arthur; Frank stayed on at Jilly's," wrote Earl Wilson. In August 1968. after nearly a year's separation, the couple obtained a Mexican divorce.

Frank Sinatra and Juliet Prowse: Frank adored the statuesque dancer from South Africa and was helpful in advancing her career. But he insisted that she step out of the spotlight if she really wanted to become Mrs. Sinatra. She decided she really didn't want to that much. Their announced engagement was canceled.

Juliet Prowse and Eddie Fisher: When she came to catch his Vegas act, Eddie acknowledged, "I was attracted to her immediately." But Fisher knew that Juliet had been Sinatra's girl, so he phoned Frank to check with him before asking her out. "He gave me his gracious permission," says Eddie. Yeah, OK--but did she? Fisher's batting average hints at another homer.

Eddie Fisher and Marlene Dietrich: Dietrich was preparing to do her Vegas act, and Eddie, at 25, had been doing one for years. He gladly gave her pointers, even introduced her to some songwriters. Grateful. Marlene invited Eddie up for dinner. He writes: "She was the sophisticated older woman and I was the inexperienced boy, just like in one of her own movies, and I was both excited and a little scared. But Marlene knew how to make me feel like a man." That night, which was only the beginning, Eddie discovered that Dietrich's "aura of glamor and mystery" was absolutely real.

Marlene Dietrich and Michael Wilding: Alfred Hitchcock directed Michael and Marlene in Stage Fright, and the two began "a big affair." It was an important one, too. Marlene was eight years older than he; yet his friends remember that he was mad for her and emotionally torn when it came time to choose between Dietrich and Elizabeth Taylor. Auf Wiedersehen.

Michael Wilding and Elizabeth Taylor: The young and determined Miss Taylor candidly admitted that she proposed to Wilding--and even bought her own engagement ring, so sure was she that things would work out. Elizabeth pointed out to him that at 19 (as opposed to Dietrich's 47), she could give Michael the children he'd never had. The wedding took place in 1952; "she wore a dove-gray suit: he wore an air of surprise." Sons Michael, Jr., and Christopher were born, but the Wildings separated, after his Hollywood career "turned to ashes," in 1956. They then became the best of friends, remaining so until Wilding died, in 1979.

Elizabeth Taylor and Nicky Hilton: The 23-year-old son of the chairman of Hilton Hotel Corporation lived in a huge Bel Air estate that looked very impressive to 17-year-old Elizabeth and her ambitious mom. Liz said there was no doubt in her mind that Nicky was the man she wanted to be with the rest of her life. MGM had Helen Rose design dresses for the bride and her attendants; more than 3000 fans waited outside the church when Elizabeth wed Nicky, on May 6, 1950. The European honeymoon was a disaster, with Nicky spending most nights in the gambling casinos. She became hysterical, he grew hostile and "the thing that hurt her most [was] when he began refusing to go to bed with her." The marriage, Elizabeth's first, lasted exactly seven months. MGM demanded the return of the $3500 wedding dress and the bridesmaids' gowns but presumably let Liz keep the shoes. She still had miles to go.

Nicky Hilton and Joan Collins: Joan, who thought of Nicky as "a sexual athlete," recalls that he used to tell girlfriends that among himself, his brother and their father, Conrad, they had "a yard of cock." Joan adds that this vital statistic was not strictly true. She actually thought Nicky a bit weird, noting that he kept track of his lovemaking on a scoreboard. Then there was the paraphernalia on his nightstand: a rosary (the Hiltons were devout Catholics), a gun, pornographic books and "an amazing array of pill bottles." A few years after she knew him, Joan reports, Nicky was dead of a drug overdose.

Joan Collins and Warren Beatty: Joan was 23 and Warren 21; both were newcomers to Hollywood. She caught him staring at her in a Beverly Hills restaurant. Someone told her his name was "Warren Something-or-other. . . . Shirley MacLaine's brother." He had pimples, but, "all in all, he looked rather appealing and vulnerable." He somehow found out her phone number, and the next night, they had dinner together. Driving home. Warren simply announced that he was coming up--for coffee. And so, says Joan, "the die was cast." They became inseparable, "up all night talking, laughing, exploring each other's minds and bodies, and I would stagger to the studio to work on Seven Thieves and he would call me 18 times a day." He called her Butterfly, she called him Bee. In love-making, he was "insatiable." Joan was convinced that he was the man she wanted, and they decided to celebrate their eternal love by getting married. "Only Warren would think of putting an engagement ring in a carton of chopped liver," writes Joan. But, alas, after nearly two years of "loving and fighting" Collins decided she had to end it with Warren. At the time, she asked herself, "What happened to the glorious romantic fun we used to have?"

(Back to Warren Beatty and Britt Ek-land to close third circle.)

Circle Number Four

Warren Beatty and Diane Keaton: Beatty, of course, had had a wide variety of liaisons with lovely ladies before he became the man in Diane's life. And she, of course, had had Woody Allen. According to one analysis, Keaton and Beatty might seem an unlikely pair, "but in reality, they have a lot in common. Like Diane, Warren moved to New York shortly after high school to pursue an acting career . . . he took odd jobs . . . he also got his start on the Broadway stage and then made the transition to movies." Also, both are reputedly very private people who prefer out-of-the-way places and quiet evenings at home. Actually, Diane and Warren weren't seen in each other's company much after the filming of Reds, which he directed and in which they co-starred. But at last report, they were taking long walks together in Central Park, trying to work things out.

Diane Keaton and Woody Allen: She was only 22 and performing on Broadway in Hair when she met cabaret comedian Woody, then 33 and three quarters of an inch shorter than her 5'7". Keaton appeared in five films directed by and/or co-starring Allen, playing characters that were usually more dizzy than brainy--with the notable exception of her role in Interiors. Like Annie Hall, Diane is a kookie WASP chick, and Allen is a neurotic Jewish intellectual. (Think of that scene in Annie Hall in which he tells his analyst that he and his girlfriend hardly make love at all, "not more than three times a week." And she complains to her shrink that he can't seem to get enough sex--demanding it three times a week.) Anyway, what Allen and Keaton had together was obviously great while it lasted. And it lasted, more or less, until Beatty came along.

Woody Allen and Mia Farrow: The reclusive director and the rather flighty, publicity-shy actress have been seen a lot lately at Elaine's--the restaurant that is New York's paparazzo paradise. It has even been rumored that Allen and Farrow plan to marry. It would be her third and his third. If. Now she's starring in an Allen movie.

Mia Farrow and Roman Polanski: When the Polish-French director went on trial in L.A. for "unlawful sexual intercourse" with a 13-year-old girl, Mia was one of the many who sent the judge a character reference. At the time, Polanski was supposed to start directing her next film, Hurricane. (He didn't.) According to Polanski's biographer, "she had had a brief secret romance with Polanski in London the year before and looked forward to renewing it in more tropical surroundings."

Roman Polanski and Catherine Deneuve: The elegantly beautiful French actress gained her first international fame as a murderous psychopath in Polanski's Repulsion, made in London in 1964. Within days of the start of filming, Deneuve became a regular visitor to Polanski's flat in Knightsbridge. She remembers two sides to his character: "On the set he was a brutal tyrant, he would scream the most outrageous, obscene things. . . . At night, the most endearing words came from his mouth."

Catherine Deneuve and Roger Vadim: Although she's now a famous blonde beauty, Deneuve had chestnut hair and "was dancing the Charleston" the night Vadim found her, back in 1962. Mother of his only son, she took a giant step toward superstardom in Vadim's Vice and Virtue the same year. Vadim says he first saw her as "a flayed cat in an ermine coat." Their marriage plans were sidetracked, and his veiled irony hints that blonde ambition may have hastened the inevitable split. Writes Vadim: "She took the rough and the smooth with apparent serenity. I never noticed that she was quietly sharpening her claws."

Roger Vadim and Brigitte Bardot: Bardot was Vadim's first major filmic creation--probably his masterpiece. He was a restless young bohemian with his eye on the main chance; Brigitte, a teen-aged dance student whose extraordinary possibilities were still unplumbed. She preferred ballet to cinema but found Vadim "as handsome as a god." Their clandestine love affair started under her bourgeois family's watchful eye, but to Vadim, "one night with her was worth a lifetime." They were married in 1952. In 1956, he wrapped her in a sheet and made And God Created Woman. The moment she dropped the sheet, Bardot was Big Time. Which boosted Vadim's reputation, too, though he paid a heavy price--losing his delectable wife to her leading man, Jean-Louis Trintignant. BB thought J-L looked like James Dean. (He didn't.) Seeing his marriage and his film finished at the same time, Vadim waxed philosophical, sort of: "I can't have an erection on the set when the woman I love is naked and masturbating or making passionate love to another man." Whatever's right. At any rate, BB and Roger have remained good, good friends to this day, bien sÛr.

Brigitte Bardot and Louis Malle: Brigitte fell in love with yet another director. Malle was at the helm of three of her films, including the quasi-autobiographical Vie Privée (about a suicidal sex symbol and made in 1961., the year after Bardot's own widely publicized effort to end it all) and Viva Maria (1965), with Jeanne Moreau. Both Bardot and Malle went on to other conquests at home and abroad.

Louis Malle and Candice Bergen: After the French director began making movies in the U. S. (starting with Pretty Baby, which put Brooke Shields in a brothel), he became Bergen's first, and current, husband. Malle had been married before and has two children born out of wedlock from earlier liaisons (one with actress Alexandra Stewart). He and Candy married rather suddenly, in 1980, during an apparent hiatus in Malle's touch-and-go relationship with Susan Sarandon, star of Pretty Baby as well as of his more recent hit Atlantic City.

Candice Bergen and Jack Nicholson: The laid-back actor and the Candy-cool blonde were together in Carnal Knowledge, and they evidently shared some. But only for a little while.

Jack Nicholson and Michelle Phillips: The actress/singer was married to Dennis Hopper (a union that lasted for "about a week") when she met Nicholson. And a week") when she met Nicholson. And Dennis remembers that he told Jack, "You'll probably be living with her within three months." Close. Their live-in arrangement lasted roughly three years.

Michelle Phillips and Warren Beatty: It was (and still is) a rare thing, indeed, for Warren Beatty to set up housekeeping with anybody--but he and Michelle (and her daughter, China, from her first marriage, to John Phillips) did have a big house on Mulholland Drive for a few years. (Beatty meanwhile retained his penthouse at the Beverly Wilshire--to entertain out-of-town guests, don't you know.) This is one of the few recorded instances in which Beatty lived with a woman after she'd lived with Jack Nicholson--though it supposedly had happened the other way around. The boys have this sort of friendly competition going, according to Nicholson's biography. Well, why not?

(Back to Warren Beatty and Diane Keaton....)