In January 1930, Afton Place in Hollywood was abuzz with news that a Spanish-style apartment block, the Aftonian, was set to open at number 6230. Employees of nearby film studios quickly filled the apartments inside, and the place became synonymous with the film industry, its residents all seeming to have something to do with the business. The building was seen as a delightful place to live, but it was not until several years later that it would become infamous as the unfortunate last residence of tragic film star Marie Prevost.
Born as Mary Bickford Dunn in Sarnia, Ontario, on 8 November 1898, she moved to Denver with her family while still a young child. However, they soon discovered that Colorado was not quite what they were looking for, and it wasn’t long before they moved once more to settle finally in Los Angeles, California. Mary grew up to work as an office secretary, but being in Hollywood meant that acting ambitions were never far from her mind. She did not have to wait long to be discovered, and when the opportunity of working at the Mack Sennett studio arose, Mary jumped at the chance to further her dreams, and left her secretarial days behind her for good.
Becoming known as a bathing beauty under the name Marie Prevost, her star began to rise rapidly, and between 1915 and 1921 she appeared in movies such as Secrets of a Beauty Parlour, His Hidden Purpose and Uncle Tom Without a Cabin. Marie was an ambitious woman with ideas of a great career in films, so by 1921 she had decided to draw a line under her bathing-beauty days, and was then taken under the wing of Irving Thalberg and signed to Universal. Marie worked hard at the great studio and made several movies there, but a desire to move on was never far away, and she soon dumped Universal in favour of Warner Brothers, where she signed a two-year contract at a staggering $1,500 a week.
Unfortunately, just as things were really looking up for Marie, her career threatened to end in scandal before it had properly begun when, in August 1923, a gentleman by the name of Sonny Gerke filed for divorce from his estranged wife, Marie Gerke. It was revealed that the pair in question had married in 1918 and separated in 1922, but while this very run-of-the-mill divorce should not have even caused a ripple in the newspapers, there was something about it that had the reporters intrigued.
The name Sonny Gerke was familiar and a quick glance in the newspaper archives revealed that he had once squired Marie Prevost around town. It was thought at the time that Gerke was no more than a devoted admirer – a beau who took Marie to the occasional dinner or film screening, but nothing more than that. However, it was intriguing that he was divorcing a woman who just happened to have the same first name as the actress, and it was not long before reporters were digging deep into their files to uncover who the mysterious Marie Gerke really was.
They didn’t have to search for long when they discovered that not only was Sonny Gerke the same man who had once dated Marie Prevost, but that his estranged wife Marie Gerke was indeed the now famous actress. The reporters were in shock. They knew that Marie’s current squeeze, actor Kenneth Harlan, was still married but that had been the only thing they knew. Nobody had any inkling that Marie was married and the idea that she had secretly tied the knot – and was now trying quietly to untie it – created a sensation.
Knowing that this revelation was going to cause a major scandal, the press grabbed their notebooks and raced to Coronado where the actress was casually spending some spare time visiting friends. Banging on the door, they were surprised when Marie opened it herself; and they had no hesitation in happily sharing news of the divorce with her.
Marie stood on the doorstep with her mouth open, not knowing exactly what to say; she had been keeping the marriage a secret for years but how could she continue to do so while confronted by hungry newspapermen? In the end, she decided that she had no choice but to confirm that, yes, she was indeed married to Sonny Gerke and it was true that she was now going through what she hoped to be a very private divorce.
Several days later, with revelations of her private life flooding the papers, Marie finally sat down and opened up to a Los Angeles Times reporter. “Really there isn’t anything to tell,” she said. “We were just two foolish children who ran away and married and then separated immediately. And now it’s all over.”
This was not quite the truth, since she had been spotted with Sonny on more than one occasion in the past, but even so, Marie tried to make it clear that everything was very straightforward in both the marriage and the separation. Still, in spite of that, she managed to raise eyebrows by flippantly declaring that she could not even remember the date of the wedding or the name of the minister. She did, however manage to recall that they had met in 1918 and “he was in the Navy at the time”.
“You see,” she explained, “It was during the war and everybody was marrying, but immediately the ceremony was over we both realized what a silly thing we had done.” She then went on to say – quite bizarrely – that even though she had gone through with the ceremony, she had never actually realized she was married. “I never thought about it,” she admitted.
The actress obviously wanted to make light of the marriage and the circumstances surrounding it, but her comments most certainly were not truthful. The marriage had played on her mind and for three months after the ceremony she had wondered how exactly to tell her mother, Hughlina, what she had done. She knew she would not be pleased, and was sure she would be absolutely appalled at the spontaneity of her decision, but finally Marie knew she had to come clean.
Taking a deep breath the young actress opened her mouth and admitted everything to her previously uninformed mother. The woman was astonished at what her foolish daughter had done, and plans for an annulment were immediately arranged. However, for reasons known only to them, it never came to anything, so the couple decided that they would just continue to be friends and occasionally date, though it was agreed that they would never actually live together.
As Marie’s star continued to rise, the fear of a scandal stopped the couple going through with a divorce, as they did not want the newspapers to find out about their secret marriage. However, at one point their cover was almost blown when a reporter got hold of a rumour that the two were actually betrothed. “Don’t be silly,” laughed a nervous Marie, while her concerned mother took it upon herself to issue a complete denial.
Finally, while Marie was happily trying to pretend she wasn’t married, Gerke had had enough of being just good friends, and telephoned the actress to tell her that he’d had enough; he would finally be going through with a divorce. “I knew he was going to sue, but nevertheless I was surprised, and yes – frightened,” she told reporters. Several weeks later Gerke was true to his word and went to court to obtain the official separation. While there he told the judge that Ms Prevost/Mrs Gerke would not object to the proceedings, and admitted that “my wife’s aversion to having the fact that she was married known for fear of injuring her career, was an insurmountable barrier to our domestic happiness”.
What he had neglected to say, however, was that part of the couple’s problem was that Marie loved alcohol more than she had ever loved her estranged husband. Years later, Sonny’s daughter Arden Keevers told author Michael G. Ankerich that her father said very little about the marriage to Marie. However, what he did reveal was that it was very tempestuous and that the actress definitely had a drinking problem during that time.
The divorce between Mrs and Mrs Gerke eventually became final and the scandal died down. Quite amusingly, however, Marie’s next film was entitled The Marriage Circle, which was to be directed by Ernst Lubitsch. She was very optimistic about the part and told reporters, “Mr Lubitsch’s way of directing is so different. All he wants me to do is to be natural, just like I would in real life.” Working with Lubitsch was a fantastic experience for the actress, and she gave him credit for giving her the chance to “get away from the usual, conventional way of doing things”. She was learning much about her abilities as an actress and felt sure that her career was moving in the direction she wanted it to go.
She was right, and from then on Marie’s career went from strength to strength, with starring roles in Kiss Me Again and Up in Mabel’s Room. Not wishing to attract any more attention in the marriage department, she quietly and without fuss wed her sweetheart, Kenneth Harlan, and looked forward to their future together.
Unfortunately, however, everything came crashing down in 1926 when Warner Brothers refused to renew the contracts of both Marie and her husband Harlan. Neither of them could believe it and the couple were left reeling at the unfairness of the decision. They wondered what they could possibly do to rectify the situation, but unfortunately, as it turned out, the renewing of contracts was just the tip of the iceberg; they were about to see just how cruel life could really be.
Just as Marie was getting her career back on track with several film roles, she was left inconsolable when news came through that her mother had been killed in a car accident while travelling from Los Angeles to Palm Beach. Apparently the wheel of the car came apart as she was in New Mexico, causing the vehicle to lose control and eventually overturn. The other passengers were not seriously injured but Hughlina was pronounced dead at the scene after suffering a broken spine and fractured skull.
Marie had been close to her mother and took the news of her death very badly. She began drinking more heavily than ever in an attempt to blank out her pain, but soon found that the alcohol did nothing for her emotions or her nerves. Then just before Christmas, a young girl stepped in front of the car Marie was driving, and although she was able to avert any real disaster, the incident caused the actress to stop driving for a year, taking streetcars to and from work for fear of anything happening while she was behind the wheel.
Marie’s nerves were on edge; thoughts of her mother’s death still played heavily on her mind, and the marriage between herself and Harlan started to crumble. The problems led to a much publicized separation in 1927, and Prevost decided to file for divorce. In court papers, the actress stated that Harlan refused to show any interest in the things she enjoyed; he was inconsiderate; he failed to provide her with reasonable recreation; he did not speak the way husbands should speak; and he became unreasonably jealous and told her that he would have been far happier if he had married somebody else. Newspapers were full of the stories of their divorce but, quite astonishingly, by July 1928 all seemed to have been forgiven and the couple announced that the divorce was off and they were back together again.
Confused reporters crowded into their Beverly Hills mansion to take photographs of the “happy” couple, but reported that while Prevost seemed giddy with excitement, the only word Harlan uttered was “Goof”, said quietly into his wife’s ear. Still, they were anxious to make the relationship work and, hoping to become closer, the two actors embarked on a second honeymoon to New York, but it was not successful; they argued most of the time and by January 1929 the marriage was over for good. Kenneth was polite when asked by reporters what his thoughts were, telling them that Marie was a “fine woman”, that they were still the best of friends, but “we simply could not get along together”.
Marie was more forthright. When asked when she would be getting married again she screwed up her nose. “Not very soon I assure you. Anyway, that is how I feel about it.”
By this time the talkies had come along and while Marie made the transition to sound fairly successfully, like many others she found the technique of acting in front of a microphone more complicated than straightforward silent movies. The pressure put on stars at that time to make the transition without trauma was excruciating for the already nervous actress and it was perhaps no coincidence that with the advent of sound, Marie Prevost was never again the star of a movie.
The actress’s weight started to fluctuate due to her battle with alcohol and her career suffered even more as a result. Gone were the heady days of bathing-beauty roles and dramatic parts, and instead she seemed destined to forever play “the friend” of actors such as Carole Lombard, who worked with her in Hands Across the Table. In that particular film, Marie brought in an amusing performance as Carole’s friend Nona, but it was a fairly small role, not particularly important and certainly not what she was used to playing when she had been a star.
In 1935 Marie hoped for a proper comeback when Warner Brothers agreed to call on her for future acting assignments. It was not the positive experience she hoped for, however, and while she was still only in her thirties, Marie found herself sitting on the “Old Timers’ Table” in the Warners’ Restaurant, chatting to former stars about the “good old days”.
It was at this point that Marie started to realize that her weight would always be an issue if she wanted to obtain good parts. However, instead of cutting back on alcohol, she astonishingly decided to stop eating and instead continued to drink more and more. The actress must surely have known the long-lasting damage that such a habit could bring not only to her career but to her body too, but by this time Marie was completely addicted; she was an alcoholic, but seemed destined never to admit it.
In late 1936 she moved into the Aftonian, at 6230 Afton Place, and in the comfort of her new home Marie spent her time thinking about the old days of Hollywood and playing with her dachshund, Maxie. A dog lover, she filled the apartment with ribbons and pictures of her prize-winning animals, and pinned a note to the door which read, “Please do not knock on this door more than once. It makes my dog bark. If I am in I will hear you as I am not deaf.” Unfortunately, some of the people knocking for attention were not friends but debt collectors, often seen by neighbours banging for attention and grumbling that the actress would not let them in.
Newspapers later reported that Marie Prevost owed money to everyone from dressmakers to tax collectors. In 1935 she had happily announced an inheritance of an estate in Scotland, but nothing came of it and her friend Joan Crawford had to lend her money to get by. She was far too proud to ask her family for help, however, and every time she wrote to her sister Peggy, Marie would always make sure she reported only the good things in her life: “She maintained a brave and cheerful outlook throughout,” her sister later said.
Unfortunately, Marie struggled with her finances for the rest of her life, and several days before her death she was spotted walking down Afton Place to a nearby delicatessen, where she was seen discussing the possibility of redeeming a returned cheque with the sales assistant, Bernard Weiss.
Finally, on 21 January 1937, Marie’s malnourished and alcohol-laden body was irreversibly breaking down. With empty whisky bottles in the sink and two gas heaters burning in the kitchen, Marie removed her shoes and stockings, and lay down on her bed for a nap. There she passed away in the presence of her beloved dog, Maxie; she was a victim of acute alcoholism according to the autopsy report.
Unfortunately, no one discovered that Marie was dead until two days after she had expired, when her dog was heard barking wildly inside the apartment. The building manager, Henrietta Jenks, sent the cleaner, William Bogle, to check on their famous resident, and he let himself in with his pass key. What awaited him was extremely distressing.
Marie was face down on the bed, a robe pulled up over her, and there were significant bites on her arms and legs, where Maxie had desperately tried to awaken his mistress. It was later reported that the dog had actually eaten the legs of Marie Prevost, but photographs of the death scene prove this to be absolutely false. There were large bites, yes, but they look more like the kind of marks made by an animal desperate for his owner to wake up, rather than that of a human-eating canine.
Her sister, former actress Peggy Prevost, rushed to Los Angeles from her home in San Francisco and told reporters that “Marie was too proud to let anyone know of her circumstances. We were never advised.” She then added tearfully that all she knew was that she had lost a wonderful sister, and was deeply sorry that she had been unable to spend the last few hours of her life with her. “There was never anyone who was more devoted to her friends,” Peggy told reporters. “No one more kind and helpful.”
Marie Prevost’s funeral was a quiet affair. Her mother, who had been buried at Forest Lawn eleven years previously, was exhumed, and the two were cremated together in a private ceremony. Her last rites were as low-key as her last days; there were no flowers, no drama, no glitz or glamour. In fact, so quiet was the affair that there is still no proper evidence of where her ashes ended up, though Peggy later claimed that Joan Crawford paid for a plot of land at Hollywood Memorial Cemetery.
The actress had actually taken the news of her friend’s death very badly and was said to have been inconsolable, feeling she was somehow responsible and that she could have – should have – done something to save her. This, it seems, was an emotion felt by many of the people who attended the funeral, most of whom seemed inconsolable at the early passing of their much-loved friend.
Marie’s ex-husband, Kenneth Harlan, was saddened by her passing. “I was upset and shocked to learn of my former wife’s death,” he said, before remarking that he was particularly surprised to hear the circumstances of the way she had died. “We hadn’t been in touch with each other for some time,” he sadly told reporters.
Indeed, it would seem that while previously Harlan had said he hoped they would still be best friends after their divorce, the only real companion Marie Prevost had with her at the time of her death was her dachshund Maxie. It was a sad and tragic end to the life of the one-time bathing beauty, though unfortunately in Hollywood, not a wholly unusual one.