notice!

Hello & welcome! Site is currently under construction 😉 Put on your hard hat and know that I’m working diligently to get this place into tip-top shape. Only the best for Mr. Valentino! Please have a look around with the patience and understanding that building/updating a website is tedious and tiring work sometimes!

- admin

Last updated: 19 January 2022

happy new year!

HNY, everyone! How is it 2022 already? Wow. I just wanted to say that I’ve had many projects, Valentino-related and otherwise, that I’ve been working on… which has slowed down my efforts in getting the site completed. Rest assured that I’ve not forgotten! Just trying to spread around my time on said projects. :) If you visit, thank you for visiting. If you read, thank you for reading. Truly, sincerely, thank you!

- admin

Posted: 19 January 2022

plans for a desktop site in the works?

With the creation of this mobile site, valentin-ohmygod, I’ve been toying with the idea of launching a full, desktop fansite. It’s only an idea right now, I don’t actually know if I’m going to do it. But it’s tempting. Translating the contents of this mobile site to desktop format would be very simple, so you never know… ☺️

Stay tuned…

- admin

Posted: 26 November 2021

Full name:

Rodolfo Alfonso Raffaelo Pierre Filibert
Guglielmi Di Valentina D’Antonguolla

(Phew! ❤️)

(spelling per tcm.com)

Stage name(s):

Rudy spelled his name many different ways over the years, but, of course, the main spelling that stuck, is Rudolph Valentino. Check the filmography tab for all alternate spellings - I included them there, as I find the variations amusing.

• He preferred people address him simply as “Rudy.” His friends did so.

Nicknames:

• “The Latin Lover”
• “The Great Lover”
• “Valentino”

Date of birth:

06 May 1895

Place of birth:

📍Castellaneta | Italy

Nationality:

• Italian-born American
• half Italian (father), half French (mother)

Languages spoken:

Rudy fluently spoke English, Italian, French, and Spanish. It’s possible he spoke other languages as well. (As if he could be any sexier!)

Date of death:

23 August 1926 (age 31)

Location of death:

📍New York City, NY | USA
Polyclinic Hospital

Cause of death:

On 15 August 1926, Rudy collapsed at the Hotel Ambassador in Manhattan (NYC). After an examination, he was diagnosed with appendicitis and gastric ulcers. Surgery was performed. After surgery, Rudy developed peritonitis (inflammation of abdomen/organ lining). There was hope Rudy would pull through, but he developed pleuritis (inflammation of lung lining). He later fell into a coma, and eventually contracted sepsis (severe systemic infection). These conditions are all fairly treatable today, but seeing as this was the year 1926, antibiotics were not yet available (they would come just two years later, in 1928).

Rest In Peace, Italian prince. 🌹

Burial place:

📍Los Angeles, CA | USA
Hollywood Forever Cemetery

* Buried next to June Mathis, American screenwriter. Mathis discovered Rudy, and was a friend & matronly figure to him. At the time of Rudy’s passing, he hadn’t secured a final resting place of any kind. Mathis, having purchased plots in a mausoleum for herself, her mother, and her husband (who she later divorced), offered the available plot for Rudy. It was only meant to be a temporary solution, as a memorial space was to be erected, but plans did not materialize. He remains beside Mathis today (she died not quite a year later, in 1927).

Zodiac sign (sun):

Taurus

Zodiac sign (moon):

Libra

Zodiac sign (rising):

Libra

Height:

Information regarding Rudy’s height varies. His WWI draft card is easily accessible via Ancestry.com, and, on it, his height is recorded, “medium.” I actually found some measurements online (blog) from a respectable tailor who fitted him in 1925. Said measurements would place him at about 6 ft. I personally think he looks a tad shorter - around 5’9” or 5’10” - pretty standard height for a very unique man 🥰

Eye color:

dark brown
(per his WWI draft card)

Hair color:

black
(per his WWI draft card)

Facial markings:

• scar on right cheek
(acquired playing with father’s razor at age 5)

• small mole on left cheek, near nose <3

Other occupations:

(to be edited)

Spouses:

[1] Jean Acker
m. 1919 | d. 1923

[2] Natacha Rambova
m. 1923 | d. 1925

* The Battle of the Sexes (1914)

* only a fragment of the film survives

Release:
US: 12 April 1914

dance extra | uncredited

* My Official Wife (1914)

Release:
US (NYC): 13 July 1914 (premiere)
US: 25 December 1916 (re-release)

extra | uncredited

* La Corsara (1916)

(Italian film)

Release:
Italy: 01 January 1916
Sweden: 14 August 1916

unknown character | unknown credit

* The Quest of Life (1916)

Release:
US: 25 September 1916

extra | uncredited

* The Foolish Virgin (1916)

Release:
US: 26 September 1916
Hungary: 22 January 1917
France: 26 December 1919

extra | uncredited

* Seventeen (1916)

Release:
US: 02 November 1916
US: 13 October 1918 (re-release)
Denmark: 22 December 1919

extra | uncredited

* Alimony (1917)

Release:
US: 03 December 1917

dancer | uncredited

* The Big Little Person (1919)

Release:
US: May 1919

Arthur Endicott | Rodolpho De Valentina

* A Rogue’s Romance (1919)

Release:
US: 09 June 1919

Apache dancer | Rudolph Volantino

* Passion’s Playground (1920)

Release:
US: April 1920
Denmark: 20 March 1922
Portugal: 17 October 1924

Prince Angelo Dello Robbia | Rudolph Valentine

* The Cheater (1920)

Release:
US: 07 June 1920
Denmark: 02 June 1924

Extra | Rudolph Valentino

* Once to Every Woman (1920)

Release:
US: 06 September 1920
France: 17 June 1921

Juliantimo | Rudolph Valentino

* Uncharted Seas (1921)

Release:
US: 25 April 1921
Denmark: 28 August 1922

Frank Underwood | Rudolph Valentino

Rudy and actress Agnes Ayres for “The Sheik”

Rudy and actress Gloria Swanson for
“Beyond the Rocks”

* A Sainted Devil

The stills from this film are incredible, so this one especially hurts. I desperately hope that it will be found one day!

Don Alonzo Castro | Rudolph Valentino

The Hooded Falcon

Project of Rudolph and his wife, Natacha Rambova, that never panned out. Film was never made - concept stills were taken, but no movie footage was shot.

unknown character | unknown credit

Rudy and actress Vilma Banky for “The Eagle”

Rudy and actress Vilma Banky for
“The Son of the Sheik”

Q: Why were so many of Rudy’s films lost?

Sadly, many silent films - not just those Rudy starred in - are lost. Per Wikipedia, the largest cause of silent film loss is intentional destruction. (It’s honestly shocking, I know! 😢) Before the era of television and home videos, films were viewed as having little future value after the end of their theatrical run. Similarly, films were perceived as worthless after the end of the silent era (sound era).

Per smithsonianmag.com, fire doesn’t account for all silent film loss. Films were junked as valueless in the sound era, mislabeled, etc.

✺ [source] ✺

My own notes & research 😆

His eyes speak volumes…

Brilliant smile ☺️

Rudy’s smoldering expressions in “The Son of The Sheik” are devastating 😩👌❤️

For “The Young Rajah” 🤤💘

For “Blood and Sand.” Epic photo.

Rudy’s second wife, Natacha Rambova, introduced him to the occult. They participated in séances and things. Anyway, Rudy believed one of his spirit guides to be a Native American chief named Black Feather. Here he is dressed as him.

I love everything about this photo, haha. Rudy helping with makeup (sweet), the cigarette in one hand, hovering just above the actor’s hair lol. Like, what could go wrong?

Also, Rudy’s ARMS 😍

For “Beyond the Rocks.” I’m convinced that if Rudy had ever played a vampire, he would’ve done a damn good job of it! And THIS would’ve been the perfect look!

Let’s get fit, y’all ☺️

For “The Eagle”

Classically handsome

Lucky camel 😆 He/she looks like they’re smiling, so cute 🥰 I mean, I’d be smiling too if Rudy had his big strong arms around me! 😜

The man loves his camels!

I think this is a concept photo for either “Blood and Sand,” or “The Son of the Sheik.” Not 100% certain, I could be wrong altogether.

😍

For “Blood and Sand”

• had an Irish Wolfhound named Centaur Pendragon, and an Alsatian Doberman named Kabar (Centaur Pendragon?! So nerdy, I love it!)

• came to America in 1913, at age 18

• had a scar on his right cheek - acquired it playing with his father’s razor when he was 5.

a good, close-up view of Rudy’s scar ❤️

• brought the Argentine tango to America

• wrote a poetry book called “Day Dreams”
(Check the links tab to read it online!)

• was powerfully psychic and spiritual, had an avid interest in spiritualism, participated in séances and automatic writing sessions - believed his spirit guides to be the following:

- Black Feather (Native American chief)

- Meselope (Ancient Egyptian)

- Jenny (When Rudy became ill, he called out for a “Jenny.” His second wife, Natacha Rambova, claimed Jenny was the name of one of his spirit guides. She was met with skepticism.)

“Feeling and not acting is what lifts a love scene from commonplace to the realms of realism and romance.”

— Rudolph Valentino.

How does he do it?

When Valentino casts those amorous glances into the upturned eyes of the leading lady and makes all the fan hearts flutter, do you ever wonder how he does it? How, as the saying goes, he gets that way?

We thought you might want to know—we knew we did—so we asked him.

Mr. Valentino was sitting in the editorial office of Movie Weekly editing this issue when we interrupted him to ask the fateful question. He wore a gray suit, and gray clocked socks to match, a platinum chain on one wrist—a Latin custom—and a wrist watch on the other. Yes, fans, he has the slight scar on his cheek that so many questions are asked about, though we hadn’t the nerve to ask him how he got it—even to please Our Public. He speaks with only a slight accent, in the impeccable English well-bred foreigners always use because they learn the language correctly. There! We’re all out of breath answering your questions.

“There’s a momentous question the fans would like to have answered,” we began timidly, approaching the Great Presence. “When you play those hectic love scenes, how do you do it?”

“How do I do it?” he echoed. “Why, the character I am playing does it—it is not myself at all.” We were a little crestfallen. Here we had been all agog to acquire a little technique to use on the other sex.

“Explain,” we insisted.

“I am always embarrassed when I am asked how I play a love scene,” he remarked, though he didn’t look embarrassed. “All I can say is that from the start of the picture I disassociate myself from the character I am to portray and live and love as I imagine he would. While I am making a picture, I cease to be Valentino and become the character I am playing, until the picture is finished.”

“Even at night?”

“Yes, all the time. I always prepare to play a role by first reading the book from which the scenario was adapted. Just reading the script isn’t enough. One needs to get more thoroughly acquainted with the character, to see and feel him as the author feels him. Before making Blood and Sand, I read the book in Spanish—so much of the spirit of a book is lost in translation—and as I read I identified myself with Gallardo. So that by the time we began work on the picture I felt thoroughly in the character of Gallardo. I found myself constantly using his gestures and mannerisms, even after I left the studio at night.”

“But isn’t that rather a nervous strain?” we suggested. “Most persons relax completely at night and forget their work—at least they should.”

“Creative work is not like that,” he reminded us. “If you were writing a novel, would it ever be out of your mind for long? No, you would be planning it, living it, until the novel was finished. It is so with a character I portray in a picture. And when the love scene comes along, it is the character who plays it. I think, as in Blood and Sand—‘I am Gallardo, and I love Dona Sol’; in projecting myself into another personality I can feel his love for this woman.”

“But doesn’t the love scene thrill you?” we ventured. If it doesn’t thrill Valentino himself, he’s the only one immune!

“Gallardo was thrilled, but not Valentino. If Gallardo were not thrilled, the scene could not be sincere. It would not seem real to those who watched.”

additional blurbs:

“When I have just finished playing a love scene,” said Mr. Valentino, “I find that it has used me up emotionally.”

Rudolph Valentino making ardent love to Nita Naldi in “Blood and Sand.” Observe his technique, Boys!

[a photo of Rudy and actress Nita Naldi in a scandalously-close embrace accompanies this text]

footnotes

• This article is originally from a publication called Movie Weekly, dated 11 August 1923. The cost: 10 cents!

• Transcribed by valentin-ohmygod ♥️

We cannot turn back to so little as yesterday. But remembering Valentino, I return to the days when I was a Hollywood movie extra at $3 a day and box lunch, and lived in a small room on Temple and Olive Street next to a synagogue. I covered the somber walls with photos of movie stars, and by a crucifix over the bed, my boyhood idol—Rudolph Valentino.

We cannot shun our destiny. What God has written will come to be. And it was to that one day I would meet Valentino. His real name was Rodolpho Alfonso Raffaello Pierre Filibert Guglielmi de Valentina D’Antonguolla. He selected Rodolpho Valentino for the screen. Friends called him Rudy. We, the young bohemian movie extras, penniless, undefeated romanticists, called him—Valentino.

He arrived in Hollywood, broke. Emmett Flynn gave him his first job as an extra at five dollars a day. Rex Ingram, a great director, selected him for Julio in “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,” and Valentino was a star. After the success of “The Sheik,” he became the great Latin Lover—Valentino was humble in success, yet a man misunderstood. An editorial writer for a Chicago paper called him “a pink powder puff.” Valentino went to Chicago and angrily challenged the writer openly to a duel or fist fight. The challenge was not accepted.

Valentino had dignity, wore elegant English clothes, made bow ties popular, drove fast cars, was a hard-riding horseman, and loved women. We imitated his graceful walk; grew sideburns, pomaded our hair a la Valentino. He grew a beard and it became fashionable. Barbers were alarmed, protested and begged him to shave it off. He introduced the platinum slave bracelet. We wore cheap imitations. He made the tango popular. We danced with beautiful girls who called us—Latin Lovers—a sobriquet we did not contradict.

He was a man of charm, magnetismo, the power to attract, captivate. He brought romance to the screen, and to millions of women. Valentino filled an emptiness. The Heartthrob. Women fainted. I saw him at the El Capitan Theatre in Hollywood. Women screamed hysterically to touch him. They stormed the theater with a vengeance, like the Bastille. It was like a page out of the French Revolution.

Central Casting called for Spanish and Mexican extras to report at Paramount Studio, $3 a day and box lunch. Over a thousand of us were hauled into trucks and driven through the narrow dusty Cahuenga Pass to Lasky Ranch. The picture—Blood and Sand. The star playing the matador—Rudolph Valentino. My father had been a famous matador from Spain. It is an art to be properly dressed for the arena. Often in Mexico I had helped my father. A Spaniard, Jarita, the technical adviser, demanded Valentino to be perfectly dressed as a matador, and knew my background.

He took me to Valentino’s dressing room on the lot. “This boy will help you dress,” Jarita said politely. Valentino smiled, shook my hand, and I trembled. He stood naked, a towel around his trim bronzed body, the slant eyes, a scar on his cheek like a saber cut. I helped him into the taleguilla, the pink stockings, red sash, zapatillas, chaquetilla… All through the ritual he sat motionless, silent, his eyes far away. A tear rolled down his cheek. He brushed it off, lit a cigarette, and walked away.

During lunch a violent fight erupted between the extras. Someone stuck me with a banderilla, and there was blood. Valentino sat under a shady tree with his lady love, exotic Natacha Rambova, as I went by. He saw the blood, cleaned the wound, wrapped his monogrammed handkerchief around my hand and gave me a glass of wine. The lovely lady smiled… the courtesy, gallantry, chivalry of the great; all these things not here anymore. I treasured Valentino’s handkerchief a long time. Then a lovely blonde girl came along and went off with it.

The last time I saw Valentino he was driving the Isotta-Fraschini fast along Sunset Boulevard. I raced my old secondhand Moon Roadster to catch him. I wanted to wave to him. I kept going faster, the car rattling, then a motorcycle cop gave me a ticket for speeding. I appeared in court before Judge Chambers, expecting to pay a fine, but the judge sentenced me to five days in jail. And I never saw Valentino again. Destiny.

But we had a few things in common. We were both Latins, proud of our heritage. We had worked as extras, busboys, been hungry, loved classical music, believed in God. He has slept on a park bench in New York, I on a church bench in Los Angeles. We loved America, became citizens. We were athletic, healthy. We did not believe in drugs or medicine. We drank good wine, and loved women. On the screen we played the same romantic role of Armand Duval in Dumas’—Camille. He with Alla Nazimova. I with Norma Talmadge.

One day he died. He was 31. His death plunged America into a nation of mourners. Women wept with unashamed tears. Two killed themselves that day; a day of vertigo, delirium. A dolorous whisper stunned the land. “Valentino is dead.” The whisper made the heart ache.

After his death I was lauded as one of his successors. A Hollywood weekly heralded: “Gilbert Roland Looms As Valentino’s Successor!” It was absurd. An infamy. No one could replace Valentino. He was not cast of an ordinary mold. This was sacrilege. I resented it. It gave me the coraje (English: courage), that rage I’ve had all my life about injustice. For this was injustice. There could never be another Valentino.

footnotes

• From 22 November 1975 issue of TV Guide

• Credit to Hollywoodland
(allanellenberger.com) for the text

summary

The wealthy and Spanish Ramon Laredo (Rudy) has grown tired of being around fellow social elite. His days have become routine, predictable. The pretentiousness of his lifestyle doesn’t suit his desire - his craving - for adventure.

One day, when Ramon’s plan was to meet with friends for a yacht outing, he winds up being lured away, drugged, and kidnapped instead. When he comes to, he finds himself aboard Captain Kitchell’s ship, and is forced to work for crooked Kitchell.

When the crew finds a sinking ship, Ramon manages to rescue a “man” from said ship, while everyone else is only worried about loot. Turns out, this “man” is actually a woman (Moran) who is dressed down. When Kitchell learns of Moran’s identity, he becomes even more of an azz (lol) than he already was. Ramon must battle Kitchell for Moran’s honor.

initial thoughts

I’d honestly held back on crossing this Valentino film from my watchlist, as the title (imo) isn’t exactly catchy. At least, not as much as some of his other films. So shallow of me, I know, but it’s true. Whenever I’d read the title, I’d have no clue, not an inkling, what it could be about. Moran? Lady Letty? Are these people? Am I stupid? Generational/dated confusion?

Answer: I’m stupid. Moran is an Irish name. It translates from the Irish language as “big,” or “great,” which is fitting for the leading lady: Moran. She’s a good strong character, as evidenced by her ability to be kissed and ever-so-softly touched by RUDOLPH VALENTINO without bursting into flames (a feat I could never conquer).

Sidenote: I’m of Irish ethnicity, which makes my obliviousness all the more palpable. +5 stupid points!

btw: Lady Letty is the name of a ship. Moran literally runs a tight ship, while wearing - gasp - slacks! So daring! So ~scandalous~!

no, really, think about that

A strong female lead, who’s recognized by those around her as a great sea(wo)man. And she wears slacks. In 1922.

Ya gotta love it!

taking the plunge

My Valentino withdrawal symptoms were relentless, my heart yearning, begging for more of his incredible chiseled face on my screen. He’s crack, I tell you. I finally decided to give Letty a spin…

WELL.

My friends, this film is why they say to never judge a book by its cover! Moran of the Lady Letty is so CUTE! And I don’t say that disparagingly! Rudy would absolutely cringe at the thought of someone regarding his work as being “cute.” It’s actually so much more than that, but it WAS cute too. My mind specifically conjures up images of sweet moments shared between Moran and Ramon (Rudy’s character). Him gently brushing her arm… sigh. Such moments were really very thrilling (I need to get out more)!

this made my eyebrows raise

as well as my blood pressure

(Rudy’s arms, roping in water)

well, that’s problematic…

So, we gotta take a moment and discuss Chopstick Charlie, because OH BOY, said character - and the way his title cards were written - did not age well.

(see below)

Yeah. Told you it was a doozy. ALL of his title cards were written like this. It WAS 1922, but that’s no excuse.

Charlie also buys a gift for Moran: a skirt, to take her from “frumpy tomboy” to a “desirable woman,” because 1922 😩 Apparently, it would’ve been outrageous had Moran worn slacks for the WHOLE movie. We wanna be progressive here, not plain reckless! /sarcasm

He’s a sweet character but they did him dirty

in conclusion

Moran of the Lady Letty is such a fun movie! To say it’s a swashbuckling good time would be cheesy. But it really is a swashbuckling good time! An entertaining adventure, an escape from the monotony. Exceeded my expectations, and even included a pinch of romance! Rudy was pretty tame in this, but he IS Valentino, so there was definitely caressing of the romantic sort.

This could be a spoiler, but it really shouldn’t be: at the end of the movie, Moran and Ramon share a sweet kiss on the top deck. Crew members are heading back from land to board ship when they stop short, noticing the lovebirds having a moment. They then snicker amongst themselves, one man remarking that it appears Ramon wasn’t expecting anyone back yet. Something about that scene, I don’t know, it just translated so well. I

Something about that teeny tiny little scene translates so well today. It’s a comedic

Sure people were no different than they are current day but something about scenes like that just blow my mind. It’s why young people should give classic cinema a chance.

That end scene translates so well into today. It’s mind blowing for me when that happens lol (comment from crew that he wasn’t expecting us back yet)