Morbid Fascination
In the world of the
tabloids, all last days are either tragic or brave--or preferably both. Take
two of the long deathwatches now preoccupying the tabs. "Bed-ridden Sinatra's
Brave Last Days," reads the headline of a Star story that begins, "Frail
and feeble Frank Sinatra spends his tragic last days mostly flat on his back."
In May, the National Enquirer 's cover read "Bob Hope's Tragic Last Days"
and inside told of his "Brave Last Goodbye."
This
article demonstrates a frequent tabloid dilemma. While death is inevitable, it
is not predictable. A few tough old celebrities stubbornly refuse to make each
day their last. In June the Enquirer announced that Katherine Hepburn
was unlikely to make it through the month (but she's still around). And in
November the Enquirer had to resurrect the aged comedian Hope. "Bob
Hope's Amazing Comeback," it announced. "He's turning back the clock at 94."
Sinatra's Brave Last Days have now stretched to a year. More in annoyance than
in sorrow, it seems, both the Enquirer and the Star are
predicting the Chairman of the Board won't preside over his 82 nd
birthday Dec. 12. The Globe is conceding he might make it, but insists
that this will be "Brave Sinatra's Last Birthday."
The tabloids are modern versions of the Art of Dying
manuals of the Middle Ages, which instructed people on how to die properly. In
the medieval world, death was not something to be feared or hidden but rather,
a public event, a crucial stage of life that needed to be anticipated and
mastered. When death arrives at a celebrity bedside today, the tabs defy modern
squeamishness and take you there to chronicle--and judge--the end. A good
death, the Enquirer concluded, was had by Jimmy Stewart. Though the star
had become a recluse, refusing to see his friends following the death of his
wife, Gloria, he did keep up a telephone relationship with the Enquirer .
In a series of interviews about his impending death he told the Enquirer
that he would miss his children, but added, "It's time they started living
their own lives and not have to worry about this old man." The Enquirer
detailed his last meals (peanut butter and jelly for lunch and Cornish game hen
and carrots for dinner) and the final treatments for a blood clot in his right
leg. Amazingly, Stewart talked to the publication only four hours before he
died, saying, "This isn't a sad day--it's for the best."
Robert
Mitchum's death wasn't as uplifting as Stewart's, but the tabloids gave him
credit for departing honestly. Despite lung cancer and emphysema--and the fact
that he used an oxygen tank to breathe--on his last night Mitchum got out of
bed for a cigarette, reported the Globe , and one of his last meals was a
six-martini lunch. Like Stewart, Mitchum also took the Enquirer 's calls
until the end. In an interview, the publication did an organ-by-organ
assessment of the dying star. After asking about his lungs and his liver, the
Enquirer inquired if Mitchum had any other health problems. "Yeah, I've
got terminal dandruff on my eyebrows," he replied. He also told them, "I've led
a very full life, a good life, and I don't want to ruin it by prolonging it any
further. I'm ready to meet my maker."
In tabloids as in foxholes, there are no
atheists. Many celebrities have specific plans for the next life. Stewart's
last words, says the Enquirer , were, "I'm going to be with Gloria now."
According to last week's Star , Sinatra hopes to reassemble a heavenly
version of the Rat Pack. A Sinatra friend told the publication that the singer
says he has spoken with Sammy Davis Jr., Peter Lawford, and Dean Martin
recently. He is also sweating his final judgment. "St. Peter's going to have to
do a double-take when I get there, but I'm hoping to squeak by," he reportedly
said. And Katherine Hepburn just wants to be reunited with her great love,
Spencer Tracy, said the Enquirer in its greatly exaggerated report of
her supposedly final days. She sleeps in his nightshirt, a Hepburn friend told
the Enquirer , and sits around reliving old memories and "murmuring
'Spencah.' " Country singer Johnny Cash, who the tabloids say is unlikely to
recover from a deadly Parkinson's-like disease, said, according to the
Globe , "I always expected my good friend Rev. Billy Graham would be
waiting for me in heaven. Now it looks like I'll get there first to greet
him."
The
tabloids abhor sudden departures, especially unnatural ones, which almost by
definition are bad deaths. Diana is the ultimate example of this. When singer
John Denver died piloting his own plane, the Enquirer and Globe
both saw things the same way. "Depressed & Boozing, He Gambled With His
Life," said the Enquirer 's headline. "John Denver's Death-Wish Tragedy,"
said the Globe . But Denver pulled off a good death after all, according
to the Star cover line: "John Denver's Heroic Last Seconds." Inside we
learn, "Hero John Denver Steered Crippled Plane Away From Crowded Streets."
Just to reassure readers that he died well, the Star quotes him as
having said in an interview, "I want to be lucky and die doing what I love
most--flying."
The tabloids also like to cover how still-healthy
celebrities might make it to their deathbeds. Dramatic weight gains, in
particular, are seen as a come-hither gesture to the grim reaper. The
Globe recently described comedian Chris Farley, who they say weighs 375
pounds, as "a heart attack waiting to happen," and 300-pound Marlon Brando as
"a walking time bomb." Actress Tyne Daley has packed on 30 pounds, says the
Star , and a "a source" worries that "her heart may give out from
carrying so much weight."
Then there
are celebrities who appear to have a power over death. According to the
Enquirer , "Evidence is mounting that country music brings people out of
comas!" The tabloid tells how LeAnn Rimes sang her hit "Blue" to a comatose
7-year-old, who then opened her eyes for the first time since a car accident.
Recordings of Bryan White and Alabama have had similar effects on two other
comatose car-accident victims, says the Enquirer .
For the tabloids, no celebrity death is ever
final. Breaking a 16-year silence about Natalie Wood's mysterious drowning
death, actor Christopher Walken says that nothing unusual took place the night
she disappeared off her docked yacht, the Star reports. This
nonrevelation gives the publication a chance to rehash other accounts that
claim that Walken and Robert Wagner (Wood's husband) got in a fight over her,
following which she stomped off in anger, never again to be seen alive. And
then there is the unsolved 19-year-old murder case of Hogan's Heroes
star Bob Crane. The Star doesn't explain that one either, but it does
report on a séance conducted by 1,000 fans to put Crane's spirit to rest.
Anniversaries can also prompt a reassessment of a demise. For Elvis'
20 th the Star concluded that the King "Could Have Been
Saved."
There is one mysterious
death that has been haunting the country for the past 24 years that the
Globe does solve. It turns out that Mr. Ed, the talking horse, died of a
drug overdose. A horse sitter mistakenly thought Mr. Ed was having a seizure
and gave him a tranquilizer. The horse died within hours. Though the
Globe doesn't say so, it was surely an end that was both tragic and
brave.
