Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, September 1921 · page 48 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #27 — page 48: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This satirical piece attacks the hypocrisy of film industry figures responding to the Virginia Rappe death scandal (involving comedian Fatty Arbuckle). The author criticizes how Broadway insiders eagerly blame Arbuckle for all Hollywood scandals while distancing themselves. The main target is "Pathe" Lehrmann, a director who publicly condemned Arbuckle's morals in newspaper columns—despite being engaged to the deceased victim. Lehrmann sneered that Arbuckle's rise from poverty (cleaning spittoons in Arizona) to wealth explained his supposed depravity. The satire's punch: the author claims to remember Lehrmann before his own rise in the industry, when he lived in "east side lodging house[s]"—suggesting Lehrmann himself came from humble origins. Therefore, he's hardly positioned to moralize about class and character to someone with a similar background. The piece exposes Lehrmann's self-righteous hypocrisy and the double standards of newly-wealthy Hollywood figures judging their peers.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
46 Captain Billy's Whiz Bang The movie people in New York feel somewhat dismayed because of Charley's interview with a British newspaper man regarding Fatty Arbuckle and the killing of Virginia Rappe in San Francisco. The disposition of the movie actors on Broadway is to pile the guilt of every movie scandal that has occurred since the beginning of time upon Fatty's robust shoulders and let him sink. I was amused, however, when “Pathe” Lehrmann rushed into the New York papers after the killing and raved for a couple of columns upon the deplorable condition of Fatty's morals in relation to women. It seems that “Pathe” was engaged to the deceased young lady. He is now Owen Moore's director at a studio in this city. Among the several things, that “Pathe” says about Fatty Arbuckle is that Fatty used to clean spittoons in Arizona. “This,” remarks “Pathe” witheringly, “Is what happens when we take people out of the gutter and make them millionaires.” Well, maybe so; maybe so. But I have a distinct recollection of “Pathe” Lehrmann before he got into the Rolls-Royce class. In an east side lodging house, Lehrmann is not so very convincing as the one to stare coldly at Fatty across the cold chasm of class inferiority.