Ramon Novarro

Mexican-American actor Ramon Novarro (1899-1968) was promoted as 'The Latin Lover' and became one of the top box office attractions of the 1920s and early 1930s. In 1925 he appeared in his most famous role, as the title character in Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (Fred Niblo, 1925). He later co-starred with Norma Shearer in The Student Prince in Old Heidelberg (Ernst Lubitsch, 1927) and with Greta Garbo in Mata Hari (George Fitzmaurice, 1931). Novarro also worked in the European cinema. In 1968 he was murdered by two young hustlers.


German postcard by Ross Verlag, Berlin, no. 1036/2. Photo: Bragaglia / Phoebus Film. Ramon Novarro in Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (Fred Niblo, 1925).


Italian postcard by Ed. Vettori, Bologna, no. 932. Ramon Novarro held a sketch for the period piece Scaramouche (Rex Ingram, 1923), in which Novarro had the title role. The film, produced by Metro Pictures, was based on a novel by Rafael Sabatini and co-starred Lewis Stone and Alice Terry.


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 1486/2, 1927-1928. Photo: MGM / ParUfaMet. Ramon Novarro in The Midshipman (Christy Cabanne, 1925)


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 2021/1, 1927-1928. Photo: Fanamet. Ramon Novarro in Lovers? (John M. Stahl, 1927).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 4907/2, 1929-1930. Photo: MGM. Publicity still for The Pagan (W.S. Van Dyke, 1929).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 4907/3, 1929-1930. Photo: MGM. Ramon Novarro in The Flying Fleet (George W. Hill, 1929).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 7805/1, 1932-1933. Photo: MGM. Ramon Novarro in The Barbarian / A Night in Cairo (Sam Wood, 1933).

The new Valentino

Ramon Novarro was born Jose Ramón Gil Samaniego in 1899 in Durango, Mexico. His parents were Leonor (Gavilan) and Dr. Mariano N. Samaniego Siqueiros, a wealthy dentist. Ramon and his family moved to Los Angeles in 1913, as refugees from the Mexican Revolution. He was a second cousin of the Mexican film star Dolores del Rio.

The family's wealth having been left behind, young Novarro took on several odd jobs, ranging from ballet dancer, piano teacher and singing waiter. In 1917, he became a film extra. Ramon worked as an extra until director Rex Ingram cast him as the lovable scoundrel Rupert of Hentzau in The Prisoner of Zenda (1922) with Lewis Stone and Alice Terry. Ramon scored an immediate hit. He was billed as Ramon Samaniegos and Terry suggested that he would change his name to Novarro. And so he did.

Ramon Novarro worked with Ingram in his next four films. Ingram again teamed him with Terry and Stone in the successful costume adventure Scaramouche (Rex Ingram, 1923). Novarro played a law student who becomes an outlaw French revolutionary when he decides to avenge the unjust killing of his friend. Ron Oliver at IMDb: "Novarro, taking the hero role this time, proved he was no flash in the pan. Equally adept as a sensitive lover or duelling revolutionary, with this performance, Novarro was catapulted to Hollywood's upper ranks."

Novarro's rising popularity among female moviegoers resulted in his being billed as the 'New Valentino' and as 'The Latin Lover'. In 1925 he appeared in his most famous role, as Judah Ben-Hur in Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (Fred Niblo, 1925). At IMDb, John Nicolaus reviews: "I found Ramon Navarro far more likeable in the title role than Charlton Heston. Like with most silent films, Navarro is a bit over the top, but he's still portrayed as an honest and kind, yet proud figure. He also has a very kind face, which helps the audience 'fall' for this guy."

With Valentino's death in 1926, Novarro became the screen's leading Latin actor. He co-starred with Norma Shearer in The Student Prince in Old Heidelberg (Ernst Lubitsch, 1927). Lubitsch made an enjoyable Viennese fairy tale in which Novarro played a cloistered, overprotected Austrian prince who falls in love with a down-to-earth barmaid (Shearer). Ron Oliver at IMDb: "This wonderful, exuberant, heartbreaking film - one of the last major movies of the Silent Era - is a scintillating example of the artistry of director Ernst Lubitsch. Filled with wry humour & aching pathos, Lubitsch tells a tale which is a persuasive paean to the power of the talkless film. Ramon Novarro, always eager to please his audience, brings great charm to the title role. Although about 10 years too old to be playing a typical university freshman, he nonetheless brings tremendous enthusiasm to the role."


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 697/5, 1919-1924. Photo: BAFAG (British-American-Films A.G.). Ramon Novarro and Barbara la Marr in The Prisoner of Zenda (Rex Ingram, 1922).


Swedish postcard by Axel Eliassons Konstförlag, Stockholm, no. 361. Barbara la Marr and Ramon Novarro in Trifling Women (Rex Ingram, 1922). Collection: Marlene Pilaete.


Italian postcard by G.B. Falci, Milano, no. 457. Ramon Novaro in Scaramouche (Rex Ingram, 1923).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, Berlin, no. 784/1. Photo: Bafag. Alice Terry and Ramon Novarro in Where the Pavement Ends (Rex Ingram, 1923).


Austrian postcard by Iris Verlag, no. 715/6. Photo: FaNaMet. Publicity still for Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (Fred Niblo, 1925).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 1722/1, 1927-1928. Photo: Arthur Ziehm, Berlin. Novarro is dressed in the attire of his film A Lover's Oath (Ferdinand P. Earle, 1925), based on Edward Fitzgerald's The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia. From this film, only a short clip remains.


Austrian postcard by Iris Verlag, no. 5326. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro in The Road to Romance (John S. Robertson, 1927).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 98/9. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Publicity still for The Student Prince of Old Heidelberg (Ernst Lubitsch, 1927).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 3774/2, 1928-1929. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Publicity still for A Certain Young Man (Hobart Henley, 1928) with Marceline Day.


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 3775/1, 1928-1929. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Joan Crawford and Ramon Novarro in Across to Singapore (William Nigh, 1928).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 3926/2, 1928-1929. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro during the making of The Flying Fleet (George W. Hill, 1929).

Savagely beaten by two young hustlers

At the peak of his success in the late 1920s and early 1930s, Ramon Novarro was earning more than US$100,000 per film. His first talking picture was Call of the Flesh (Charles Brabin, 1930), where he sang and danced the tango. He continued to appear in musicals, but his popularity was slipping. MGM insisted on giving their Mexican star a wide range of ethnic parts, everything from a carefree South Seas native in The Pagan (W.S. Van Dyke, 1929) to a wealthy Indian jewel merchant in Son of India (Jacques Feyder, 1931).

He was not given many top-notch assignments, but he did star with Greta Garbo in Mata Hari (George Fitzmaurice, 1931), a semi-fictionalised account of the life of the exotic dancer who was accused of spying for Germany during World War I. She falls in love for the first and only time in her life when she meets dazzlingly handsome Lieutenant Ramon Novarro. Ron Oliver at IMDb: "Ramon Novarro, who receives co-equal billing with Garbo, had been an important movie celebrity far longer than she, but her rising sun tended to obscure most other stars in her orbit and Novarro has to work hard to get much notice in their joint scenes. As always, MGM's chameleon actor (this time he plays a Russian) gives a very competent performance, but as a romantic pair they make a rather unusual couple - which simply means that Novarro's sexual ambiguity is perfectly mirrored by Garbo's intrinsic androgyny."

Mata Hari was a success, but soon Novarro's career began to fade fast. In 1935 he left MGM and appeared on Broadway in a show that quickly flopped. Though wealthy enough not to need work, Novarro was restless when not before the cameras. His later career consisted mostly of cameos. In Europe, he was still popular. In France, he starred in La comédie du bonheur / Comedy of Happiness (Marcel L'Herbier, 1940) opposite Michel Simon. He also appeared in the Italian version, Ecco la felicità (Marcel L'Herbier, 1940). In Mexico, he starred in La virgen que forjó una patria / The Saint That Forged a Country (Julio Bracho, 1942).

After the war, Novarro returned to Hollywood as a supporting actor and appeared in such films as We Were Strangers (John Huston, 1949) and the Film Noir The Big Steal (Don Siegel, 1949), starring Robert Mitchum. His last film was Heller in Pink Tights (George Cukor, 1960) with Sophia Loren. Later he guest-starred in TV series such as Rawhide (1964), Bonanza (1965) and The High Chaparral (1968).

Ramon Novarro was troubled all his life by his conflicted feelings toward his Roman Catholic religion and his homosexuality. His life-long struggle with alcoholism is often traced to these issues. He was romantically involved with journalist Herbert Howe, who was also his publicist in the late 1920s. In 1968, Novarro was savagely beaten in his North Hollywood home by two young hustlers, the brothers Paul and Tom Ferguson, aged 22 and 17. They had heard - in error - that a large sum of money was locked away somewhere in his home. They never found any money, and Novarro was discovered dead the next day by his servant. Novarro died as a result of asphyxiation—having choked to death on his own blood after being beaten. He was less than four months away from what would have been his 70th birthday.


British postcard by Ross Verlag Foreign, no. 3773/2, 1928-1929. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro in Forbidden Hours (Harry Beaumont, 1928).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, Berlin, no. 4908/1, 1929-1930. Photo: MGM. Publicity still for Devil-May-Care (Sidney Franklin, 1929).


British postcard in the Picturegoer Series, London, no. 516. Ramon Novarro and Dorothy Jordan in Call of the Flesh (Charles Brabin, 1930).


American postcard by Fotofolio, NY, NY, no. GH8. Photo: George Hurrell / Creative Art Images, Hollywood. Caption: Ramon Novarro, 1931. Publicity still for Daybreak (Jacques Feyder, 1931).


Dutch postcard, no. 300. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro and Greta Garbo in Mata Hari (George Fitzmaurice, 1931).


German postcard by Ross Verlag / Ballerini & Fratini, Firenze, no. 535/2. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro in Son of India (Jacques Feyder, 1931).


Spanish collector's card in the series Estampas del cinema, no. 59, by Editorial Gráfica Barcelona, series 8, 1931, no. 3 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro and Rosita Ballesteros in Sevilla de mis amores / La Sevillana (Ramon Novarro, 1931).


Dutch postcard, no. 477. Photo: Metro Goldwyn Mayer. Ramon Novarro and Helen Hayes in The Son-Daughter (Clarence Brown, 1932).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 6931/1, 1931-1932. Photo: Metro Goldwyn Mayer. Ramon Novarro in Huddle (Sam Wood, 1932).


Dutch postcard, no. 499. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Publicity still for The Barbarian (Sam Wood, 1933) with Myrna Loy.


Dutch postcard, no. 600. Photo: M.G.M. Jeanette MacDonald and Ramon Novarro in The Cat and the Fiddle (William K. Howard, 1934).


British postcard in the Film Weekly. Photo: MGM. Ramon Novarro and Lupe Velez in Laughing Boy (W.S. Van Dyke, 1934). It was the only film Novarro regretted having made, as he looked unconvincing as a Navajo Indian. Still, as Samuel Wilson remarked in 2018, "Lupe Velez's performance and an unusually complex portrait of Native American life make Laughing Boy worth a look regardless of its consequences for its star's career." It was Novarro's one but last film at MGM before his contract there expired. The film was also no success at the box office.


British postcard in the Film Partners series, no. P. 155. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro and Evelyn Laye in The Night is Young (Dudley Murphy, 1935), based on a story by Vicki Baum.


British postcard by Foto-Roff in the Black and Whites Gallery, London, no. 1060. Photo: George Hurrell, 1929 / Kobal Collection.

Source: Hal Erickson (AllMovie - Page now defunct), Tony Fontana (IMDb), TCM, Wikipedia and IMDb.

Sevilla de mis amores (1931)

Mexican-American actor Ramon Novarro (1899-1968) was a popular Latin Lover of the 1920s and early 1930s. Sevilla de mis amores/La Sevillana (1930) was Novarro's first film direction and fully spoken and sung in Spanish. It was the alternate-language version of the musical Call of the Flesh (1930), directed by Charles Brabin. Novarro also co-directed with Yvan Noé a French version, Le chanteur de Séville (1931). The process of filming alternate-language versions was common in the American film industry in the early 1930s and continued until improved dubbing technology became available. Novarro appears in both alternate versions, reprising his role as Juan de Dios Carbajal. Ivo Blom collected a series of eight Spanish collectors cards of the Spanish version.


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 57, series 8, 1931, no. 1 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Conchita Montenegro and Ramon Novarro in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 58, series 8, 1931, no. 2 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Conchita Montenegro in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 59, series 8, 1931, no. 3 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro and Rosita Ballesteros in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 60, series 8, 1931, no. 4 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).

Peering over the convent wall to the cantina

Sevilla de mis amores/La Sevillana (1930) marked Novarro's first performance in Spanish, his first language. Ramon Novarro plays Juan de Dios, a young Spaniard from a poor working-class background. Juan is a cantina performer in Seville, singing and dancing with his partner Lola (Rosita Ballesteros). They have a contentious professional and personal relationship. She is jealous and cannot tolerate his constant flirting.

Juan aspires to become a serious opera singer, under the tutelage of Estaban (José Soriano Viosca). Once the greatest impresario in Spain himself, Estaban lost everything because of the same reckless behaviour that Juan now exhibits. Estaban is trying to quell that behaviour in Juan.

Estaban's plan is to get one of his old contacts in Madrid, an impresario (Michael Vavitch), to manage Juan's career to get him serious singing gigs, leading to that fame and fortune Esteban once used to have. It's love at first sight when Juan meets Maria Consuelo Vargas (Conchita Montenegro).

What he initially doesn't know is that their meeting was by no accident, as she, a postulant at St. Agustín convent who just escaped from that life, had been mesmerised by him and his singing every time she saw him as she peered over the convent wall to the cantina. As she tells him that she has no home, he takes her in.

When Juan learns that Maria Consuela used to be a nun in training, he has to decide whether to marry her as is his wont or try to get her back to the convent. Factored into his decision may be her brother, Army Captain Enrique Vargas (Martin Garralaga), who believes she is destined to be married to God, jealous Lola, and his and Estaban's own aspirations for his singing career.

The plot was based on a story by Dorothy Farnum. The art direction was by Cedric Gibbons, cinematography by Merritt B. Gerstad. The film cost $103,437 and had its American release at the Teatro Califórnia Internacionale in Los Angeles on 5 December 1930, and its Spanish premiere in Barcelona, on 4 April 1931. Sevilla de mis amores (1930) and Le chanteur de Séville (1931) were filmed using a different crew and supporting cast on the same sets at MGM Studios as Call of the Flesh (1930). A German-language version, also to be directed by Novarro, was never filmed for financial reasons.

Sevilla de mis amores (1930) is credited with boosting the career of the then 19-years-old Conchita Montenegro. Novarro's mother, Leonor Pérez Gavilán de Samaniego, makes her only film appearance as Mother Superior of the convent. Ramón Guerrero, who appears in the film, translated the original screenplay, and Novarro translated the song lyrics, assisted by Herbert Stothart.


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 61, series 8, 1931, no. 5 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro and Conchita Montenegro in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 62, series 8, 1931, no. 6 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro and Conchita Montenegro in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 63, series 8, 1931, no. 7 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Rosita Ballesteros and Conchita Montenegro in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).


Spanish collectors card by Editorial Grafica Barcelona in the Estampas del cinema series, no. 64, series 8, 1931, no. 8 of 8. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Ramon Novarro in Sevilla de mis amores (Ramon Novarro, 1931).

Sources: Wikipedia and IMDb.

Was Rex Ingram a visionary filmmaker or a dangerous maverick?

After a hiccup last Thursday, we continue our Summer series on more or less recent film books. In 'Rex Ingram - Visionary director of the Silent Screen' (2014), Irish scholar Ruth Barton explores the life and legacy of the pioneering filmmaker Rex Ingram (1893-1950). Alongside D. W. Griffith, Cecil B. De Mille, and Erich von Stroheim, he was one of the greatest artists of silent Hollywood. Ingram directed such smash hits as The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921), The Prisoner of Zenda (1922), and Scaramouche (1923). His films made stars of Rudolph Valentino, Ramón Novarro, and Alice Terry ― who also became his second wife. After Scaramouche, Ingram went into a self-imposed exile on the French Riviera. Thanks to his box office successes, Ingram's career flourished throughout the 1920s, although Louis B. Mayer regarded him as a dangerous maverick. Or was he a visionary filmmaker?


British postcard in the Picturegoer Series, London, no. 137a.


British postcard in the Picturegoer Series, London, no. 137.


Rex Ingram and Alice Terry. German postcard by Ross Verlag, Berlin, no. 807/1, 1925-1926. Photo: Bafag.


Italian postcard by Ed. A. Traldi, no. 88. Photo: Le grandi films Virginio Rebua, Milano. The postcard claims this is Ramon Novarro, but it is Rex Ingram. Ingram directed Novarro in various early 1920s films, such as The Prisoner of Zenda (1922), Where the Pavement Ends (1923), Scaramouche (1923), and The Arab (1924).


Book cover for Ruth Barton, 'Rex Ingram - Visionary director of the silent screen' (2014). Publisher: University Press of Kentucky.

A fascination for the bizarre and the grotesque

Rex Ingram was born in 1893 as Reginald Ingram Montgomery Hitchcock in Rathmines, now part of Dublin, Ireland. He spent much of his adolescence living in the Old Rectory, Kinnitty, Birr, County Offaly where his father was the Church of Ireland rector. When the sensitive Rex was 15, his sickly mother died. Biographer Ruth Barton suggests that this led to his later portraying women as either pure-hearted souls or tempting sirens. Barton had access to Ingram's memoirs which gave her insight into his life. Her book focuses on telling the compelling narrative of Ingram’s life and links it often with his work.

Ingram's father tried to push him into business, but Rex wanted to be an artist. After failing to get into Trinity College Dublin, much to his father’s shame, he emigrated in 1911 to the United States. He was 18 and studied briefly sculpture at the Yale University School of Art, where he also contributed to The Yale Record, a campus humour magazine. In New York, Rex met the son of inventor and film pioneer Thomas Edison, and he decided to move into the new movie business. From 1913, the handsome young Irishman acted in silent films for the Edison studios, and in 1915, he took his mother’s name, Ingram, as his surname. So interestingly he changed Hitchcock into Ingram to break into the cinema! Barton however suggests that the name change was meant as a firm break with his father's ambitions for him.

After Edison, he worked with legendary director D.W. Griffith at the Biograph Studios for a while. Ingram later also worked for Vitagraph, Fox and Universal. Soon he took on writing, producing and directing jobs, directing mainly action or supernatural films. His first film as producer-director was the romantic drama The Great Problem (Rex Ingram, 1916) with Violet Mersereau. In his following films such as Black Orchids (Rex Ingram, 1917) with Cleo Madison, The Little Terror (Rex Ingram, 1917) and The Flower of Doom (Rex Ingram, 1917), he showed a fascination for the bizarre and the grotesque. In 1920, Rex Ingram moved to Metro. There, he was under the supervision of executive June Mathis. Together, they hired young Italian immigrant dancer Rudolph Valentino to star in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Rex Ingram, 1921) opposite Alice Terry. Valentino's film's sizzling tango sequence turned the film into a smash hit. Mathis and Ingram would make four films together, also Hearts are Trump (Rex Ingram, 1920) again with Alice Terry, The Conquering Power (Rex Ingram, 1921) with Valentino and Terry, and Turn to the Right (Rex Ingram, 1922).

After Valentino left Metro for Paramount, Rex Ingram needed a new leading man and took a chance on a young, handsome Mexican, who would become Ramon Novarro. With his role as the villain Rupert von Hentzau in The Prisoner of Zenda (Rex Ingram, 1922) he became Ingram's new star. Ingram also gathered a steady technical crew around him. Very important for his films would be cameraman John Seitz, who invented the matte painting. Also important for Ingram's films was his editor, Grant Whytock. Ruth Barton describes how Ingram and his crew worked. The Prisoner of Zenda features careful lighting, well-placed props, and a novel 3-D effect. In one shot, two soldiers drink and play cards. Behind them, to the right, a military statue stands out, in focus. Still farther back in the room, and to the left, a young man plays the piano. It is Ramon Novarro. Almost a painting, the effect is multi-dimensional.

On 5 November 1921, Ingram and Alice Terry were married in Adobe Flores in South Pasadena. It was on a Saturday and they sneaked off the set of The Prisoner of Zenda (Rex Ingram, 1922) without telling anyone. The next day they saw three films and went back to work on Monday. When the film was completed, they went to San Francisco for their honeymoon. Ruth Barton speaks of his rumoured bisexuality, but it remains unconfirmed. In his work, you can see undertones of what was probably an actively bisexual life. Ingram's films contain splendid flashes of macabre fantasy, such as the ride of the Four Horsemen in the Valentino epic, or the 'ghoul visions' that bring about the death of the miser in The Conquering Power (Rex Ingram, 1921). His more or less mystical bent was later apparent in Mare Nostrum (Rex Ingram, 1926) and The Garden of Allah (Rex Ingram, 1927), which he filmed in the Mediterranean and North Africa, respectively.


Vintage postcard. Rudolph Valentino in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Rex Ingram, 1921). Madariaga "The Centaur" (Pomeroy Cannon), the richest man in Argentine, and his grandson, the handsome tango dancer Julio (Rudolph Valentino).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 748/1. Photo: Bafag. Rudolph Valentino and Alice Terry in The Conquering Power (Rex Ingram, 1921).


Spanish collectors card by Chocolate Amatller, Series EE, artist no. 40, no. 82.


Spanish collectors card by Chocolate Amatller, Series EE, artist no. 41, no. 83. Lewis Stone In The Prisoner of Zenda (Rex Ingram, 1922).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 679/4. Photo: Bafag. Lewis Stone as Rudolph Rassendyll and Alice Terry as Princess Flavia in The Prisoner of Zenda (Rex Ingram, 1922). Stuart Holmes is the man in black on the right. The Bismarck-like guy behind Terry is the actor Robert Edeson, who plays Colonel Sapt. Behind him is actor Malcolm McGregor, who plays Captain Fritz von Tarlenheim. Both are the loyal aids of the King, defending him against his evil half-brother Michael (Stuart Holmes) and his plotting cronies: his mistress Antoinette (Barbara la Marr) and Rupert von Hentzau (Ramon Novarro). Trying to stop a coup by Michael, who has abducted and imprisoned the real king, Sapt and Tarlenheim arrange for a lookalike cousin of the king to be crowned (which we see on this card). The substitute king falls in love with Princess Flavia but he cannot tell the truth... Stone played both the King and his lookalike.


Italian postcard by G.B. Falci, Milano, no. 447. Ramon Novarro and Alice Terry in the Metro Pictures production Scaramouche (Rex Ingram, 1923).


Italian postcard by G.B. Falci, Milano, no. 457. Ramon Novaro in Scaramouche (Rex Ingram, 1923).

Converting to the Islam

In 1923, the restless Rex Ingram and Alice Terry relocated to the French Riviera. They hired the Victorine Studio, a small studio in Nice and made several films on location in North Africa, Spain, and Italy for MGM and other studios. Outside the view of Louis B. Mayer, the new head of MGM, and the movie moguls he created such films as Mare Nostrum (Rex Ingram, 1926), The Garden of Allah (Rex Ingram, 1927) and The Three Passions (Rex Ingram, 1929).

Was Ingram indeed the dangerous maverick which Mayer saw in him? Or was he the true visionary, as Ruth Barton writes? To be honest, I personally can't judge this while I did not see enough films by Ingram yet. During the 1920s, film critics praised the pictorial qualities of his work but also commented on the lack of dramatic pacing and the unrounded characterisation. These faults were more and more apparent in his last films. Barton convinced me that Ingram was a complex figure who could not be easily categorised. His temperament was volatile and his working periods at the various studios were short. Invariably, he fell out with superiors and co-workers. Barton describes him as a charming, talented but also difficult and demanding artist. The more earth-bound Alice Terry kept the tyrannical perfectionist on track. She even co-directed his films in difficult periods.

In 1926, Ingram made The Magician, starring Paul 'Der Golem' Wegener. Although Wegener's acting was already old-fashioned, Ingram slowly builds the film to a rousing climax. Flashing lightning surrounds an old castle, where the magician battles the young hero (Ivan Petrovich). Earlier, the young heroine (Alice Terry) is transported to an underworld dreamland, complete with Pan, the Devil, and a host of partially dressed dancers. The Magician was successful, but Louis B. Mayer ended Ingram's career at MGM.

Amongst those who worked for Ingram at MGM on the Riviera during this period was the young Michael Powell, who later went on to direct (with Emeric Pressburger) The Red Shoes (1948) and other classics, and technician Leonti Planskoy. By Powell's own account, Ingram was a major influence on him, especially in its themes of illusion, dreaming, magic and the surreal. Also director David Lean said he was indebted to Ingram. MGM studio chief Dore Schary listed the top creative people in Hollywood as D. W. Griffith, Ingram, Cecil B. DeMille and Erich von Stroheim (in declining order of importance). Von Stroheim however called Ingram the "world's greatest director..." The coming of sound forced Ingram to relinquish his studios in Nice. Rather than equip them for talking pictures, he chose instead to travel and pursue a writing career. Rex Ingram made only one sound film, Baroud/Love in Morocco (Rex Ingram, Alice Terry, 1932-1933) with Pierre Batcheff, filmed for Gaumont British Pictures in Morocco. The film was not a commercial success and Ingram, only forty years old, left the film business. He returned to Los Angeles to work as a sculptor and writer.

Interested in Islam as early as 1927, Rex Ingram converted to the faith in 1933. He spent his later years travelling across the wind-swept North African desert, often alone. He also became an avid collector of ancient artefacts. In his last years, he also planned a biography on the life of Haitian leader Toussaint, but it was never filmed. Ironically, Sergei M. Eisenstein, who was planning a biopic on Toussaint, also didn't make his film. Suffering from high blood pressure, Rex Ingram died in 1950 of a cerebral hemorrhage in North Hollywood, at the age of 58. He was interred in the Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Glendale, California. Ingram married twice, first to actress Doris Pawn in 1917; this ended in divorce in 1920. He then married Alice Terry in 1921, with whom he remained for the rest of his life. Both marriages were childless. Terry inherited his estate of $200,000, including rare artworks, old swords, and ancient guns.

For his contribution to the motion picture industry, Rex Ingram has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1651 Vine Street. And there is this insightful and entertaining biography by Ruth Barton, it's a joy to read. Dangerous maverick or visionary film director? I guess he was both, with Erich von Stroheim and Orson Welles to keep him excellent company.


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 1033/2. Photo: Phoebus Film. Alice Terry in Scaramouche (Rex Ingram, 1923).


German postcard by Ross Verlag. Photo: Metro / Phoebus. A scene from Scaramouche (Rex Ingram, 1923), depicting the French Revolution: Danton (George Siegmann) leading the mob.


Italian postcard by Ballerini & Fratini, Florence, no. 426. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn, Roma. Antonio Moreno and Alice Terry in Mare Nostrum (Rex Ingram, 1926).


Romanian postcard. Antonio Moreno and Alice Terry in Mare Nostrum (Rex Ingram, 1926).


French postcard by Cinémagazine-Edition, no. 132. Photo: Ivan Petrovich in The Magician (Rex Ingram, 1926).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 2014/1, 1927-1928. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) / FaNaMet. Paul Wegener in The Magician (Rex Ingram, 1926).


French postcard by Editions Cinémagazines, no. 161. Paul Wegener in The Magician (Rex Ingram, 1926).


French postcard by Editions Cinémagazine, no. 193. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Alice Terry in The Garden of Allah (Rex Ingram, 1927).


British postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 3538/1. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Alice Terry and Ivan Petrovich in The Garden of Allah (Rex Ingram, 1927).


German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 4854/1, 1929-1930. Photo: United Artists. Ivan Petrovich and Alice Terry in The Three Passions (Rex Ingram, 1928). Collection: Geoffrey Donaldson Institute.

Sources: Book, Brian McIlroy (Estudiosirlandeses), Stephen Totterdell (Film Ireland - Page now defunct), Rex Ingram website, Wikipedia and IMDb.

This post was last updated on 6 November 2024.