Trouble in “Paradise”

By mid-1986, twenty-eight-year-old Madonna’s musical career was nothing if not monumentally successful; she couldn’t have been happier with the results of her True Blue endeavor — artistically and commercially. Her personal life, however, was not as stellar; her marriage had fallen further into disrepair. The couple seemed to argue over everything, including her refusal to be tested for the HIV virus. At this time, there was much less known about HIV, and also a great deal of discussion about the pros and cons of being tested for it. Today, Madonna — an AIDS activist — would most certainly suggest that a sexually active person be tested for the HIV virus, and often. However, in, she seemed just as confused about the dangers of deadly HIV as most of the population.

“But why should I get tested?” she asked Sean in front of two people from her management company. She was preparing to take “test shots” of the wardrobe that would be seen in a new video. Frustrated, she ran her hands through her new platinum pixie cut. “What if I’m positive?” she asked. “What then? I’m dead, right?”

“Well, if you’re positive then at least I’ll know, won’t I?” Sean said, clearly annoyed at her.

“So, what are you saying?” Madonna pushed on. The two witnesses present became more uncomfortable with the exchange. “Are you saying that you won’t make love to me if I’m [HIV] positive.”

“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

Madonna vanished. A few minutes later, she reappeared wearing a black corset tied tightly in the back with gilded breast cups, mesh stockings and high heels. She looked stunning. She could always manage to make the trashiest of outfits look classic. A designer’s assistant walked out clutching what appeared to be a Norma Kamali fake leopard-skin coat. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked her, his tone tentative. Madonna ignored him.

“Well, then, all the more reason for me not to get tested,” Madonna said, picking up the argument as if she had never left the room.

Sean Penn took a beat to stare at his wife in her unusual wardrobe, perhaps admiring her elegance, her elusiveness, her impeccable style. She studied him, as well. Then, without releasing her gaze on him, Madonna snapped her fingers twice. A subordinate ran to her and placed a freshly lit cigarette between her lips. She puffed away. Sean smiled. “That’s my wife,” he said, dismissing the futile discussion in a tolerant fashion.

“Oh, screw you, Sean,” Madonna said from the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, “not until you get tested.”

In the summer of 1986, the epidemic hit home when artist Martin Burgoyne, a good friend and former roommate of Madonna’s from her New York days, was diagnosed with AIDS. Madonna was devastated. Earlier, as a surprise, Sean had flown Martin and Erica Bell out to Malibu from New York for a party to celebrate the release of “Papa Don’t Preach.” Madonna immediately noticed that Burgoyne was not well. A few weeks later, he called her with the tragic news.

“She was beside herself,” says Melinda Cooper. “From that point on, whenever Martin’s name was mentioned, she would just begin to cry. She leased an apartment for him on West Twelfth Street, so that he could be closer to St. Vincent’s Hospital, where he was being treated. She also arranged to take care of all of his medical bills, which would come to more than $100,000.”

As a last-ditch attempt to save Burgoyne, Madonna asked Sean to fly to Mexico to purchase an experimental drug there, one that was not available in the United States. She hoped the drug would “cure” her friend. Of course, it didn’t. Martin, only twenty-three, died in November 1986, just before Thanksgiving. At his bedside, Madonna held his hand until he passed away. She paid $4,000 for his memorial service.

Sean did what he could to console Madonna after Martin’s death, demonstrating a tender, sympathetic side. However, his all too frequent jealous outbursts had become a significant problem.

One of the first signs that Sean’s sometimes violent temper could be directed not only toward photographers but also toward his own wife had occurred before their wedding when he learned that she had once dated Prince. An argument about the rock star resulted in Sean punching a hole through the wall. Madonna has since said that she was stunned and frightened by the incident. “That’s when I first saw the appearance of the demon,” she said. “I should have known then that there would be trouble.”

However, Freddy DeMann’s assistant, Melinda Cooper, remembers a different story. “I went over to their apartment one day to pick her up for a recording session, and there was this huge hole in the wall,” she says. “So I asked Madonna what happened.”

Madonna told the story as if she was recounting the plot of an exciting soap opera on television. “Oh my God, Melinda,” she said. “Sean found out about me and Prince, and we had this amazing fight. I told him to fuck off, that I can do whatever I want. He was so mad, he left the house, and then I slammed the door behind him. Then, he came back in,” she continued, breathlessly, “and, I swear to Christ, Melinda, he was so mad at me, he punched this hole in the wall. Look at that? Is that cool, or what?”

“That’s cool?” Melinda asked, examining the hole. “Madonna, that is not cool. That’s scary.”

“What are you talking about?” Madonna enthused. “I mean, how much must he love me, to punch a hole in the wall like that.” (A couple of days later, Madonna telephoned Prince and told him to come to her home and fix the hole, “because you’re responsible for it, after all.” As instructed, Prince showed up with plaster, and repaired the hole.)

Now that they were married, Madonna didn’t think Sean’s violent streak was so “cool.” When he became angry, he would grab one of his guns and fire off a string of shots at rabbits or birds. He walked around the house with a loaded .22 tucked into the back of his pants, which seemed to Madonna’s concerned friends, if not to the lady herself, a form of emotional abuse.

One close friend of Sean’s recalls what happened at a dinner party at the Penns’ home. “We were at the pool. Sean had a little too much to drink. Madonna did, too. There was a guy there who had been eyeing her all night. Madonna went over and started flirting with him.”

“What’s this all about?” Sean said bitterly as he walked over to them.

“Oh, get lost, Sean,” Madonna told him. “We’re just talking.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Sean picked up his wife and, in one quick motion, threw her into the pool. The crowd of about thirty seemed stricken. As they watched, Madonna swam leisurely to the shallow end of the pool and then climbed its few steps. Dripping wet and without saying a word, she walked across the patio and into the house. “She never came back out,” recalls the friend.

Earlier in 1986, Madonna and Penn were dining at Helena’s, one of their favorite restaurants in Los Angeles, when an old friend, David Wolinsky (from the group Rufus featuring Chaka Khan), approached her at their table, bent over and gave her an innocent kiss in greeting. Immediately enraged by the gesture, Penn leaped from his chair and attacked Wolinsky, beating and kicking him. The attack ended only when shocked onlookers managed to restrain Penn. Madonna was humiliated. “She looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole,” recalled one witness. “I remember watching her as she glared at Sean and thinking to myself, she’s starting to hate him.”

“He was a hothead,” says David Wolinsky. “I did nothing but greet his wife, someone I knew before he had married her. It was completely unprovoked. I wondered what she was doing married to that creep.”

Though her marriage with Sean seemed to be falling apart, she wasn’t able to focus completely on repairing it for she was a busy woman with a thriving career. Constantly, she was distracted by the business at hand. “There’s no time to figure out how to handle Sean,” she despaired. “I barely have time to sleep.”

Sean Penn had bounced back after the Shanghai Surprise fiasco and was busy at work on a gritty cop film, Colors, with Dennis Hopper. Meanwhile, Madonna was considering several scripts for herself. Influenced by her love for old Hollywood, she was keen to do a remake of Judy Holliday’s smash 1950 comedy Born Yesterday, or Marlene Dietrich’s star-making role in the 1929 drama The Blue Angel. As for new scripts, she was offered something called Blind Date and an early version of Evita (which would remain in development for years). However, she was most eager to appear in a film that had a Carole Lombard screwball-comedy flavor to it. Called Slammer, it was about a madcap blonde, Nikki Finn (Madonna), who, after being released from jail for a crime she did not commit, sets out to find the man who framed her. The usual screwball complications ensue, including chase scenes, mobsters and a 160-pound cougar. A deal was made; filming began in New York. Perhaps because Sean was now awaiting sentence on the assault charges, the name of the movie was changed from Slammer (which, her handlers reasoned, was where Penn was destined) to Who’s That Girl?

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, Sean’s volatile temper continued to get him in trouble when he attacked a thirty-two-year-old actor on the set of Colors. As the young extra knelt on the sidelines with a camera, hoping for a good shot, Sean appeared from seemingly nowhere. He knocked the camera from the extra’s hands. “You bastard,” Sean snarled, “don’t take any pictures of me between takes.” Then, he punched him in the face.