Room 1219: Fatty Arbuckle, The Mysterious Death Of Virginia Rappe, And The Scandal That Changed Hollywood - Plot & Excerpts
We were all young, the air in Southern California was like wine. Our business was also young and growing like nothing ever seen before. —BUSTER KEATON It was in June 1919 when—among his daily deluge of autograph requests, unsolicited story suggestions, pleas for donations, and fawning praise from around the globe—Roscoe Arbuckle received a letter signed with a number: Dear Mr. Arbuckle, I have just been sentenced to twelve years in this prison for burglary and now that my head is shaved and I’ve got the stripes on, I don’t think they were joking. I used to drive a taxi cab in New York and you occasionally rode with me. It is only a step from driving a taxi to second story work and my foot slipped. I told all the boys here in this prison that I knew you and they asked me to write and invite you to come down here and entertain us some evening. Please come, Mr. Arbuckle. Anything you do will be appreciated because it is very dull here. Subsequently, Arbuckle, accompanied by Lou Anger and a few Comique players and escorted by armed guards, strode through the gates of a California penitentiary.
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