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Panic—Elizabeth Taylor

The booing began just sporadically as the woman in a pink, embroidered cotton dress walked out of the shadows that had darkened the aisle into the glaring lights that beat down on the canvas ring and the seats around ringside. She was alone. As she...

That’s Hollywood For You

I know Debbie Reynolds and Harry Karl hold hands at the movies. I watched them. . . . Zsa Zsa turned square; she admits on the jacket of her book that she didn’t write her autobiography. . . . Call me what you will, but...

A Quiet Afternoon With Janet Leigh And Tony Curtis

“A swimming pool?” Janet asked. “When we don’t have any living-room furniture?” Tony just nodded and looked around the living room in their new Palm Springs home. “It’ll give you a rest,” he’d said. “We’ll live outdoors around the pool, no cooking, cold food and...

Edd Byrnes

Edd Byrnes heard a girl’s high-pitched giggle, and then he heard a man’s voice, mean and nasty, like a dull but deadly knife: “Kookie, we’re gonna mash your face—so even your own mother won’t know you!” He heard everything: the man’s words, the girl’s giggle...

Elvis Presley, What Are You Scared Of?

This time they weren’t going through the back way. The big, black Lincoln Continental rolled up to the front entrance of The Cloister, the famous nitery on Hollywood’s Sunset Strip. Three young men stepped out of the limousine, and then Elvis. He was healthily tanned,...