The Trial of Fatty Arbuckle FATTY Wanda Felix Mack Sennett recalled meeting him: "A tremendous man skipped up the steps as lightly as Fred Astaire. He was tremendous, obese --- just plain fat. 'Name's Arbuckle,' he said, 'Roscoe Arbuckle. Call me Fatty! I'm with a stock company. I'm a funnyman and an acrobat. But I could do good in pictures. Whatcha think?' With no warning he went into a featherlight step, clapped his hands, and did a backward somersault as graceful as a girl tumbler." Adela Rogers St. Johns remembered the early days in Hollywood like this: "Everybody loved everybody. There were love affairs going on, and everybody had an excitement about the whole thing that I've never seen since. None of us knew even vaguely what we were doing. None of us knew what this picture business had come to; the greatest form of art and entertainment the world has ever known was put together there for awhile.

It didn't last long but it was great, and here we were, right in the middle of the goldfish bowl, with everybody beginning to look at us." By 1921 Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle was one of the highest paid actor/directors in the motion picture business. But on September 5 of that year, during a weekend party he was throwing at the Saint Francis Hotel in San Francisco, the water in the goldfish bowl turned murky. Virginia Rappe (Rap-pay), a girl attending the party, ran screaming from a bedroom, took sick and died four days later. On September 17 Roscoe Arbuckle was arraigned in San Francisco charged with the rape and murder of Virginia Rappe. The legendary producer, Adolph Zukor (who footed the legal bill) tried to bring in the great trial lawyer, Earl Rogers, father of Adela, but Rogers was in ill health and couldn't take the case. Adela remembered her father speaking to her about Fatty's plight, "They will make it very tough on him, because of his weight.

A man of that enormous fatness being charged with the rape of a young girl will prejudice them, even just the thought of it." Indeed, they made it very tough on the fat man. As Kevin Brownilow puts it in Hollywood: The Pioneers, "District Attorney Matthew Brady ... must have been beside himself. An intensely ambitious man, he planned to run for governor. Here presented to him in the most sensational terms, was the scandal of the century-an apparent open and shut case." The ambitious Mr. Brady had a very helpful ally in William Randolph Hearst --- the undisputed champion of yellow journalism. Early director, and friend of Arbuckle's, Viola Dana recalled, "Hearst was instrumental in wanting the motion picture industry in Northern California (i.e. San Francisco), and instead it settled in Southern California. I think that was part of his motive in crucifying Arbuckle." Hearst crucified Arbuckle for another reason --- circulation ... Hearst was gratified by the Arbuckle scandal; he said later that it had "sold more newspapers than any event since the sinking of the Lusitania." § § § The ugliest twist, one many people are unaware of, is that Arbuckle was completely innocent.

He was set up by a venal woman named Maude Delmont, known as "Madame Black." Delmont would provide girls for parties and then have the girl claim she was raped by a prominent director or producer. Concerned about his career, the victim would submit to Delmont's request for money to keep the story out of the press. When Rappe died a few days after the party, from a condition unrelated to the events at the St. Francis Hotel, Delmont gave Fatty Arbuckle's name to the police. Arbuckle's wife stuck by him throughout the trial --- such was the public's scorn that she was shot at while entering the courthouse --- but the producers in Hollywood forbade his movie friends to testify on his behalf fearing that their careers would be besmirched and that the scandal would cut into profits. After two trials resulted in hung juries, Fatty was acquitted at the third, with a written apology from the jury --- an apology unprecedented in American justice. "Acquittal is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle [they wrote]. We feel that a great injustice has been done him ... there was not the slightest proof adduced to connect him in any way with the commission of a crime.

He was manly throughout the case and told a straightforward story which we all believe. We wish him success and hope that the American people will take the judgment of fourteen men and women that Roscoe Arbuckle is entirely innocent and free from all blame." It was, of course, too little too late. Will Hays, the ex-Postmaster General, had been installed as a kind of overlord-Pope charged with cleaning up the movies for America. As Arbuckle faced his second trial, so Brownilow puts it in his book, Hays went into a sort of metaphorical desert to consult with his conscience ... On April 19, 1922 Will Hays made the first major policy decision of his new job. He banned Roscoe Arbuckle from the screen. Roscoe Arbuckle's career was decimated. The funnyman who'd done handsprings down the steps to introduce himself to Mack Sennett; the fat man who'd two years earlier signed a contract with Adolph Zukor for the astronomical sum of one million dollars a year; the director who'd acted as mentor to his friend Buster Keaton, would never rise again. A scandal fueled entirely by innuendo had been hideously successful.

Fatty's time was past. Arbuckle worked as a director, under another name, on several films after the trials. Keaton suggested he use the name Will B. Good, he did ... almost. Louise Brooks told Kevin Brownilow about working with Arbuckle at that time. He was working under the name William Goodrich. He made no attempt to direct this picture. He sat in his chair like a dead man. He had been very nice and sweetly dead since that scandal had ruined his career. It was such an amazing thing for me to come in to make this picture and to find my director was the great Roscoe Arbuckle. Oh, I thought he was magnificent in films. He was a wonderful dancer --- a wonderful ballroom dancer, in his heyday. It was like floating in the arms of a huge doughnut --- really delightful. Arbuckle died a few years later. § § § In the short history of the motion picture, Fatty Arbuckle is of central importance. His coat and hat were borrowed by a young Charlie Chaplin to create a character that became an American icon.

He was a very close friend of Buster Keaton's and is credited with singlehandedly shepherding Keaton's early film career. That Arbuckle is usually conceived as a minor figure stands as testament to the power of the vendetta directed at him. "Oh, we kept having scandals right along," said Adela Rogers St. Johns. "If you throw into one small town and one small industry, the people who can impress the world with their drama, their sex appeal, with their lovemaking, with all of the big emotional dramatic things that can happen, and you put them all together in one little bowl, you're going to have some explosions. I'm only surprised we had so few." Thanks is due Kevin Brownilow, author of "Hollywood: The Pioneers" and "The Parade's Gone By." I drew on both books extensively as source material for this essay. Also to Marc Wannamaker of the wonderful Bison Archive in Beverly Hills for providing the photograph of Roscoe Arbuckle.

The Skinny on the Fatty Arbuckle Trial | History | Smithsonian Contact Privacy Policy Terms of Use The Skinny on the Fatty Arbuckle Trial When the million-dollar movie comedian faced a manslaughter charge, the jury was indeed scandalized—at how his reputation had been trashed November 8, 2011 Upon his arrest for murder, Roscoe Arbuckle was booked into custody and denied bail. In the summer of 1921, Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle was on top of the world. Paramount Pictures had paid him an unprecedented $3 million over three years to star in 18 silent films, and he’d just signed another million-dollar contract with the studio. The portly comedian’s latest film, Crazy to Marry, was playing in theaters across the country. So his friend Fred Fischbach planned a big party to celebrate, a three-day Labor Day bash at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco. But by the end of the week, Fatty Arbuckle was sitting in Cell No. 12 on “felony row” at the San Francisco Hall of Justice, held without bail in the slaying of a 25-year-old actress named Virginia Rappe.

Crazy to Marry was quickly pulled from theaters, and a nation was outraged to discover a sordid side to the off-screen lives of Hollywood stars. Behind Arbuckle’s troubles was a mysterious woman named Maude Delmont , a witness for the prosecution who would never be called to testify because police and prosecutors knew her story would not hold up on the stand. Yet what she had to say would be more than enough to ruin Arbuckle’s career. The days leading up to the party did not put Arbuckle in the best of moods. He was in Los Angeles having his Pierce-Arrow automobile serviced when he sat down on an acid-soaked rag at the garage. The acid burned through his pants to his buttocks, causing second-degree burns. He was tempted to cancel the trip to San Francisco, but Fischbach would have none of it. He secured a rubber-padded ring for Arbuckle to sit on, and they made the drive up the coast to the St. Francis, where Fischbach had reserved adjoining rooms and a suite.

According to Arbuckle, Fischbach arranged everything from the rooms to the guests to the liquor (despite Prohibition), and on Labor Day, September 5, 1921, Arbuckle awoke to find that he had many uninvited guests. He was still walking around in his pajamas, bathrobe and slippers when he saw Delmont and Rappe and expressed concern that their reputations might alert police to the “gin party.” In Los Angeles, Delmont was known as a madam and blackmailer; Rappe had made a something of a name for herself as a model, clothing designer, aspiring actress and party girl. But the food and booze were flowing by then, the music was playing, and Arbuckle was soon no longer focused on his exhausting work schedule, the burns on his backside or just who all those guests were. What happened in the ensuing hours would play out on the front pages of William Randolph Hearst ’s national chain of newspapers, in lurid headlines, before Arbuckle had a chance to tell his side of the story. Virginia Rappe was 25 years old when she arrived at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco for a Labor Day Weekend party.

Maude Delmont soon painted a sinister portrait of the happy-go-lucky portly prince of silent film. This is what she told the police: After Arbuckle and Rappe had had a few drinks together, he pulled her actress into an adjoining room, saying, “I’ve waited for you five years, and now I’ve got you.” After a half-hour or so, Delmont heard Rappe screaming, so she knocked on and then kicked at the locked door. After a delay, Arbuckle came to the door in his pajamas, wearing Rappe’s hat “cocked at an angle” and smiling his “foolish ‘screen smile.” Behind him, Rappe was sprawled on the bed, moaning. “Arbuckle did it,” the actress said, according to Delmont. Rappe was taken to another room. A doctor was summoned, and he attended to her. She stayed at the hotel for a few days before she was taken to a hospital—where she died, on September 9, of a ruptured bladder. The Hearst papers had a field day with the story—the publisher would later say the Fatty Arbuckle scandal sold more papers than the sinking of the Lusitania.

While sexually assaulting Virginia Rappe, the papers surmised, the 266-pound star had ruptured her bladder; the San Francisco Examiner ran an editorial cartoon titled “They Walked Into His Parlor,” featuring Arbuckle in the middle of a giant spider web with two liquor bottles at hand and seven women caught in the web. Rumors that he had committed sexual depravities began to swirl. Arbuckle turned himself in and was held for three weeks in jail. Police released a mug shot of the dejected actor, photographed in a suit and bow tie, his round face showing nothing of the joy everyone saw on celluloid. He remained silent as the innuendo swelled. Arbuckle’s lawyers insisted he was innocent and requested that the public make no judgment until all the facts were established. But they quickly realized Arbuckle would have to make a statement, and the comedian told a very different story from Maude Delmont’s. After having a few drinks with Virginia Rappe, the actress became “hysterical,” Arbuckle said.

She “complained she could not breathe and then started to tear off her clothes.” At no time, Arbuckle insisted, was he alone with her, and he said he had witnesses to corroborate the point. He found Rappe in his bathroom, vomiting, and he and several other guests tried to revive her from what they believed was intoxication. Eventually, they got her a room of her own where she could recover. Arbuckle was charged with manslaughter and scheduled for trial that November. San Francisco District Attorney Matthew Brady saw the case as the perfect opportunity to jump-start his career in politics, but he was beginning to have trouble with his star witness, Delmont. Sometimes she claimed to be a lifelong friend of Rappe’s; other times, she insisted they’d met just days before the party. She also had a criminal history of fraud and extortion, Brady discovered. Also known as “Madame Black,” Delmont procured young women for parties where wealthy male guests soon found themselves accused of rape and blackmailed into paying Delmont.

Then there was the matter of the telegrams that she sent to attorneys in both San Diego and Los Angeles: “WE HAVE ROSCOE ARBUCKLE IN A HOLE HERE CHANCE TO MAKE SOME MONEY OUT OF HIM.” Still, Brady proceeded to trial. The newspapers never questioned Delmont’s version of events, and they kept flogging Arbuckle. His reputation was in a shambles, even after his friends Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin vouched for his character. But Arbuckle’s lawyers introduced medical evidence showing that Rappe had had a chronic bladder condition, and her autopsy concluded that there “were no marks of violence on the body, no signs that the girl had been attacked in any way.” (The defense also had witnesses with damaging information about Rappe’s past, but Arbuckle wouldn’t let them testify, he said, out of respect for the dead.) The doctor who treated Rappe at the hotel testified that she had told him Arbuckle did not try to sexually assault her, but the prosecutor got the point dismissed as hearsay. Fatty Arbuckle was making $1 million per year in 1921 with Paramount Pictures.

Photo: Wikipedia Arbuckle took the stand in his own defense, and the jurors voted 10-2 for acquittal. When the prosecution tried him a second time, the jury deadlocked again. It wasn’t until the third trial, in March of 1922, that Arbuckle allowed his attorneys to call the witnesses who had known Rappe to the stand. He had little choice; his funds were depleted—he would spend more than $700,000 on his defense—and his career was presumed to be dead. They testified that Rappe had suffered previous abdominal attacks; drank heavily and often disrobed at parties after doing so; was promiscuous, and had an illegitimate daughter. One of them also attacked Maude Delmont as “the complaining witness that never witnessed.” On April 12, 1922, the jury acquitted Arbuckle of manslaughter after deliberating for just five minutes—four of which were used to prepare a statement: Acquittal is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle. We feel that a great injustice has been done to him … there was not the slightest proof adduced to connect him in any way with the commission of a crime.

He was manly throughout the case and told a straightforward story which we all believe. We wish him success and hope that the American people will take the judgment of fourteen men and women that Roscoe Arbuckle is entirely innocent and free from all blame. One week later, Will Hays , whom the motion picture industry hired as a censor to restore its image, banned Fatty Arbuckle from appearing on screen. Hays would change his mind eight months later, but the damage was done. Arbuckle changed his name to William B. Goodrich (Will B. Good) and worked behind the scenes, directing films for friends who remained loyal to him and barely earning a living in the only business he knew. A little more than ten years later, on June 29, 1933, he had a heart attack and died in his hotel room. He was 46. Sources Books: Robert Grant, Joseph Katz, The Great Trials of the Twenties: The Watershed decade in America’s Courtrooms, Sarpedon, 1998. Scott Patrick Johnson, Trials of the Century: An Encyclopedia of Popular Culture and the Law, Greenwood Publishing Group, 2011. Charles F.

Adams, Murder by the Bay: Historic Homicide In and About the City of San Francisco, Quill Driver Books, 2005. Stuart Oderman, Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle: A Biography of the Silent Film Comedian, 1887-1933, McFalrald, 1994. Articles: “Quiz Arbuckle Over Death of Film Actress” Chicago Daily Tribune, Sep. 11, 1921. “Arbuckle Held Without Bail As Murderer” Chicago Daily Tribune, Sep. 12, 1921. “Mrs. Delmont Tells of Arbucle Party” Boston Daily Globe, Sep. 13, 1921. “Many Theathers Ban Arbuckle Pictures” New York Times, Sep. 13, 1921. “Fatty Arbuckle and the Death of Virginia Rappe” by Denise Noe, TruTV Crime Library, . “The Case Against Arbuckle,” “Arbuckle Answers to Girl’s Murder Charge” . Like this article?

Fatty Arbuckle Fatty Arbuckle Location of death: New York City Cause of death: Heart Failure Remains: Cremated (ashes scattered in the Pacific Ocean, off Santa Monica) Gender: Male Nationality: United States Executive summary: Keystone Cop Always chubby, Roscoe Arbuckle was taunted as "Fatty" in childhood and the nickname stuck. He was frequently beaten by his father, who doubted the boy's paternity and eventually abandoned the family. In his teens he worked as a vaudeville comic and singer, and he began working in films in 1909. Eventually he was hired by Mack Sennett 's Keystone Film Company in 1912, where he was a regular in the Keystone Cops shorts, and headlined his own "Fatty and Mabel" series of shorts with Mabel Normand . In a 1913 Keystone short called "A Noise from the Deep", Arbuckle takes what is believed to be cinema's first pie in the face, and the gag was reportedly his own idea.

Often working with his friend Buster Keaton , Arbuckle's star rose even brighter after he started his Comique Film Company, and in 1920 he was signed by Paramount Pictures as Hollywood's first million-dollar-a-year man. For the Labor Day weekend in 1921, Arbuckle's friend Fred Hibbard hosted a three-day party at San Francisco's St Francis Hotel, renting three suites and arranging for a jazz band, catered food, and ample illegal alcoholic beverages. It was by all accounts a weekend of debauchery, and the party gave Arbuckle more lasting fame than any of his films. At about 3:00 on 6 September 1921, he stepped into one of the bedrooms to change his clothes, planning to leave the party with Mae Taub, the daughter-in-law of evangelist Billy Sunday . According to Arbuckle, he found Virginia Rappe , a party guest and long-time friend, weak, sick, and vomiting in the bathroom. He helped her onto the bed, and what happened next is still subject to debate and exaggeration. Rappe complained that she could not breath and began ripping off her clothes.

Arbuckle and another guest, Maude Delmont, argued loudly, after she began pressing ice cubes against Rappe's abdomen and thigh. Arbuckle called for the hotel manager and a doctor for Rappe, but had no apparent inkling that her illness would prove fatal, and he left with Taub within minutes. Rappe died of a ruptured bladder several days later, and as soon as Arbuckle heard of her death, he returned from Los Angeles to San Francisco. He was arrested on 11 September 1921, and tried for manslaughter. The case was covered in gruesome detail and lurid innuendo, with newspapers (especially William Randolph Hearst 's San Francisco Examiner) claiming that the inebriated movie star had ravaged a sweet, innocent girl. The man who had rivaled Charlie Chaplin as America's most popular comic was soon held in general disdain and widely assumed to be guilty. It was whispered that Arbuckle had crushed Rappe with his weight while raping her, or crammed a Coca-Cola bottle or ice cubes up her vagina. To this day Arbuckle's name -- if remembered at all -- is often mentioned in the context of "getting away with murder", but the evidence against him was scant.

Rappe's bladder was actually brought into the courtroom and introduced as evidence, and physicians testified that the damage was not caused by any external object or force. Arbuckle's primary accuser, Delmont, was not called to testify, because her story kept changing. The District Attorney's investigators found that she had previously been involved in numerous extortion plots, and Arbuckle maintained that Delmont had approached him for hush money, and only gone to the police after he refused to pay. He faced trial three times, with two juries unable to reach a verdict, before being acquitted in his third trial. The jury deliberated for six minutes before finding him not guilty, and apparently they spent most of that time composing an extraordinary rebuke to prosecutors, signed unanimously: "Acquittal is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle. We feel that a great injustice has been done him. ... We feel also that it was only our plain duty to give him this exoneration, under the evidence, for there was not the slightest proof adduced to connect him in any way with the commission of a crime." The film business already had an unclean reputation, and the Arbuckle affair was the impetus for appointing former Republican Party chairman Will H.

Hays as Hollywood's point man for morality. Arbuckle's films were ordered withdrawn from circulation, as one of Hays' first acts as President of the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America. But being blacklisted was probably unnecessary -- Paramount had already suspended Arbuckle's contract, and his ruined reputation would have made his lighthearted comedies distasteful to audiences anyway. He disappeared from the screen but continued working in movies, directing dozens of films under the assumed name William B. Goodrich. Returning as Fatty Arbuckle in the early sound era of the 1930s, he starred in a few well-received shorts, and was signed to a studio contract by Jack L. Warner . But Arbuckle's comeback was not to be -- he died of a heart attack before any of his new films had been completed. At the time of his death, he lived at the Alto Nido Apartments in Hollywood, where "Black Dahlia" Elizabeth Short would live ten years later, and where fictional screenwriter Joe Gillis lived in Billy Wilder 's classic Sunset Blvd. Father: William Goodrich Arbuckle Wife: Minta Durfee ("Araminta Estelle Durfee", actress, m.

6-Aug-1908, div. 27-Jan-1925) Wife: Doris Deane (actress, b. 1900, m. 1925, div. 1928, d. 1974) Wife: Addie Dukes McPhail (actress, b. 1905, m. 1932, d. 2003) Hollywood Walk of Fame 6701 Hollywood Blvd. (motion pictures) Murder tried three times for allegedly killing Virginia Rappe (acquitted) Rape Virginia Rappe (acquitted) 'Fatty' Arbuckle and Hollywood's first scandal - BBC News BBC News 'Fatty' Arbuckle and Hollywood's first scandal By Jude Sheerin BBC News, Washington 4 September 2011 Close share panel Media caption'Fatty' Arbuckle in silent film Coney Island, from 1917 Guests to San Francisco's Westin St Francis Hotel still ask to see the room where an infamous bootleg-booze-soused party took place 90 years ago.

The management are happy to show visitors the suite, if it's unoccupied, but they don't know exactly what happened in there on Labor Day in 1921 - no-one does. One thing is clear: In Room 1219 that afternoon, an actress by the name of Virginia Rappe was screaming in agony on a bed. Later that week she was dead. And the man charged with her death was Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, Hollywood's first one-million-dollar star. Public enemy No 1 The case against the silent movies' king of slapstick would be Tinseltown's first major scandal. Image caption The 12th floor hotel suite at the Westin St Francis where Arbuckle and friends partied on Labor Day "This was the guy who discovered Buster Keaton; who helped mentor Charlie Chaplin," says Arbuckle biographer Stuart Oderman. "He had magical comic timing. He was one of the all-time greats." But overnight, the roly-poly buffoon adored by children across America was public enemy number one, and people were spitting in his face outside court.

It was on 5 September 1921, that Arbuckle ended up at a party in a luxury suite on the 12th floor of the St Francis, after taking a break from a hectic filming schedule. Among the guests was Virginia Rappe, a 30-year-old struggling actress who suffered from chronic cystitis, a bladder inflammation. At some point, Arbuckle and Rappe ended up together in a bedroom from where, a few minutes later, her screams were heard. Rape allegation Guests rushed in to find Rappe, fully dressed, writhing in pain on the bed. Media caption'Fatty' Arbuckle in silent film The Waiters' Ball, from 1916. Arbuckle told them - it was a story he always stuck to - that he had gone to use the bathroom where he found Rappe in a drunken faint on the floor. He had merely carried her to the bed and she had fallen off, insisted Arbuckle. But then Rappe uttered the words that would damn the star: "He did this to me." As Arbuckle left the party, revellers initially assumed the actress was just drunk.

But her condition worsened and when she was finally taken to hospital three days later her friend, Bambina Maude Delmont, told the doctor Arbuckle had raped Rappe. A medical examination found no evidence of sexual assault. Death penalty urged A day later Rappe died from peritonitis, caused by a ruptured bladder. Stars still get into trouble - at least Arbuckle didn't have to deal with Twitter Kenneth Turan, LA Times film critic Arbuckle was charged with first-degree murder, eventually reduced to manslaughter. With morality groups demanding he face the death penalty, movie moguls ordered Arbuckle's industry friends to disown him. Los Angeles-based film historian Cari Beauchamp says: "This was the first scandal in Hollywood with box office implications. "Everyone had believed the stars were covered in fairy dust. Now that illusion was shattered and studio bosses were terrified it would destroy Hollywood itself." With no concern for prejudicing the trial, the sensationalist "yellow journalism" Press churned out lurid stories of Tinseltown's depravity alongside coverage of the case. Although Arbuckle was never tried for sexual assault, this notion has endured, largely because of how the trial was reported at the time.

Extortion plot The star, thought to have weighed about 260lb (118kg), was portrayed as a fat brute who had pinned down his prey, rupturing her bladder. A life less ordinary By Joan MyersFilm historian Chicago-born Virginia Rappe (pictured above) was a fashion model and clothes designer. For "relaxation", she competed in automobile races. In 1916 she went to Hollywood, finding work in short comedies, though with limited success. By Labor Day 1921 when she was invited to Arbuckle's hotel suite, her film career had waned. When the scandal broke, Arbuckle's attorneys employed a time-honoured strategy: character assassination. The popular novelist, Gouverneur Morris, editorialising for the San Francisco Call & Post, wrote: "We should learn whether Miss Rappe died as a result of attending the Arbuckle party, or many such parties… it will be the duty of the court to determine whether Miss Rappe was a 'virtuous girl' or a bad girl." It's unlikely that Arbuckle, not known to be a violent man, attacked or deliberately harmed Rappe. The most likely explanation is some accident occurred.

But over the years, adherents came to canonise Arbuckle and demonise Rappe. No aspersion cast on her character was too venomous. This included gossip that she was an alcoholic, a prostitute, had numerous abortions, venereal disease, and - perhaps most absurdly - that she infested Keystone Studios with pubic lice. Luckily for Arbuckle's lawyers, the case was riddled with holes. His chief accuser, Bambina Maude Delmont, was a convicted criminal who had admitted plotting to extort money from him. She never took the stand. And it emerged in court that the prosecution had used intimidation to force several witnesses to testify against Arbuckle. Even so, the actor was tried three times. The first two cases ended in hung juries. After a third trial in 1922, the jury took just a few minutes to unanimously acquit Arbuckle - he was found guilty only of drinking bootleg alcohol. "Acquittal is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle," the jury said in a written apology. "A grave injustice has been done." Although cleared, Arbuckle faced ruinous legal bills and a public still widely convinced of his guilt. He was often heckled in the street.

The case led to the establishing of a Hollywood censorship board, which ruled that Arbuckle should never work in the industry again. Although that ban was later lifted, the actor remained blacklisted unofficially. For Tinseltown, of course, the show went on - it survived the Arbuckle affair, just like it has weathered many other scandals since then. As Los Angeles Times film critic Kenneth Turan says: "Stars still get into trouble and they still need help managing crises. At least Arbuckle didn't have to deal with Twitter." Roscoe Arbuckle spent more than a decade on the comeback trail - during which time he worked under a pseudonym and discovered Bob Hope in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1927. Mystery lingers Arbuckle's rehabilitation was finally complete when Warner Bros offered him a feature-film contract in 1933. Image caption Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle was born into poverty in Kansas After it was signed, he reputedly said: "This is the best day of my life." That night he died of a heart attack in the arms of his third wife. He was 46 years old.

Mississippi-based Arbuckle historian David Pearson says the star was the inspiration to many overweight comics, such as John Belushi, Benny Hill, John Candy and Chris Farley. Like many experts on the case, Pearson is convinced Arbuckle did not harm Rappe. "Arbuckle was just a film star who was in the wrong place at the wrong time," says Pearson. "And he paid for it for the rest of his life. "Rappe was definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time because she wound up dead. It was a double tragedy." But nine decades on, the mystery remains: why did Virginia Rappe die? Roscoe 'Fatty' Arbuckle - Biography - IMDb Roscoe 'Fatty' Arbuckle Biography Showing all 59 items Jump to: Overview (5) | Mini Bio (1) | Spouse (3) | Trade Mark (3) | Trivia (33) | Personal Quotes (12) | Salary (2) Overview (5) 5' 9" (1.75 m) Mini Bio (1) Roscoe Arbuckle, one of nine children, was the baby of the family who weighed a reported 16 pounds at birth.

Born in Smith Center, Kansas, on March 24, 1887, his family moved to California when he was a year old. At age eight he appeared on the stage. His first part was with the Webster-Brown Stock Company. From then until 1913, Roscoe was on the stage, performing as an acrobat, clown and singer. His first real professional engagement was in 1904, singing illustrated songs for Sid Grauman at the Unique Theater in San Jose, CA, at $17.50 a week. He later worked in the Morosco Burbank stock company and traveled through China and Japan with Ferris Hartman. His last appearance on the stage was with Hartman in Yokahama, Japan, in 1913, where he played the Mikado. Back in Hollywood, Arbuckle went to work at Mack Sennett 's Keystone film studio at $40 a week. For the next 3-1/2 years he never starred or even featured, but appeared in hundreds of one-reel comedies. He would play mostly policemen, usually with the Keystone Kops , but he also played different parts.

He would work with Mabel Normand , Ford Sterling , Charles Chaplin , among others, and would learn about the process of making movies from Henry Lehrman , who directed all but two of his pictures. Roscoe was a gentle and genteel man off screen and always believed that Sennett never thought that he was funny. Roscoe never used his weight to get a laugh. He would never be found stuck in a chair or doorway. He was remarkably agile for his size and used that agility to find humor in situations. By 1914 he had begun directing some of his one-reels. The next year he had moved up to two-reels, which meant that he would need to sustain the comedy to be successful--as it turned out, he was. Among his films were Fatty Again (1914), Mabel, Fatty and the Law (1915), Mabel and Fatty's Wash Day (1915), Mabel and Fatty Viewing the World's Fair at San Francisco (1915), Fatty's Reckless Fling (1915), and many more.

For "Mabel and Fatty Viewing the World's Fair at San Francisco", Keystone took the actors to the real World's Fair to use as background; the studio's cost was negligible, while the San Francisco backgrounds made the picture look expensive. By 1917 Roscoe formed a partnership with Joseph M. Schenck , a powerful producer who was also the husband of Norma Talmadge . The company they formed was called Comique and the films that Roscoe made were released through Famous Players on a percentage basis, and soon Arbuckle was making over $1,000 a week. With his own company Roscoe had complete creative control over his productions. He also hired a young performer he met in New York by the name of Buster Keaton . Keaton's film career would start with Roscoe in The Butcher Boy (1917). Roscoe wrote his own stories first, tried them out and then devised funny twists to generate the laughs. His comedy star was second only to Charles Chaplin. With the success of Comique, Paramount asked Roscoe to move from two-reel shorts to full-length features in 1919.

Roscoe's first feature was The Round-Up (1920) and it was successful. It was soon followed by other features, including Brewster's Millions (1921) and Gasoline Gus (1921). Ufortunately, tragedy struck on Labor Day on September 5, 1921 with the arrest and trial of Roscoe Arbuckle on manslaughter charges. Roscoe's roommate had thrown a party in their San Francisco hotel suite, which was crashed by a "starlet" named Virginia Rappe , who fell seriously ill and died three days later from a ruptured bladder. Rappe had accused Arbuckle of raping her prior to passing away, but Rappe had a history of accusing men of rape. The newspapers, led by William Randolph Hearst , used this incident to generate Hollywood's first major scandal.

Roscoe was tried not once but three times for the criminal charges; the trials began in November 1921 and lasted until April 1922; the first two ended with hung juries (the mistrial decision in the second trial was reached on February 3, 1922, the day after Arbuckle's friend and fellow Paramount director William Desmond Taylor was found murdered, and Arbuckle was visibly affected by the news). At his third and final trial in April of 1922, the jury not only returned a "not guilty" verdict but excoriated the prosecution for pursuing a flimsy case with no evidence of Arbuckle having committed any crime; it was at this final trial that the jury went further, writing a personal letter of sympathy and apology to Arbuckle for putting him through this ordeal. He kept it as a treasured memento for the rest of his life. However, Arbuckle's acquittal marked the end of his comedic acting career. Unable to return to the screen, he later found work as a comedy director for Al St.

John , Buster Keaton and others under the pseudonym "William Goodrich" (he was inspired to use this pseudonym by Keaton, who suggested Arbuckle use the name "Will B. Good"). In 1932 producer Samuel Sax signed Roscoe to appear in his very first sound comic short films for Warner Brothers, starting with Hey, Pop! (1932). He completed six shorts and showed the magic and youthful spirit that he had a decade before. With the success of the shorts, Warner Brothers signed Roscoe to a feature film contract, but he died in his sleep on June 29, 1933 , at age 46, the night after he signed the contract. ( 6 August 1908 - 27 January 1925) (divorced) Trade Mark (3) Apart from the fact that he was overweight and thus nicknamed "Fatty," he usually wore bowler-hat and pants whose legs were too short. Rolling perfect cigarettes with a couple quick motions of one hand Remarkable agility and dexterity, especially for a man of his girth Trivia (33) Obese comic actor whose career was ended by a scandal.

Directed under the name William Goodrich. He let it be known that his alternate pseudonym of Will B. Good was evidence of his pledge to walk the straight and narrow. After his career was ruined, Buster Keaton personally supported him as repayment for giving him his break into film. Weighed 300 pounds (ca. 135 kilograms) at the height of his career. Was tried three times for rape and manslaughter of Virginia Rappe . The first trial (November 14-December 4, 1921) ended with the jury deadlocked 10 to 2 in favor of acquittal. The second trial (January 11-February 3, 1922) also ended in a hung jury; this time the majority had ruled against Roscoe - 10 to 2 for conviction. The third trial (March 13-April 12, 1922) finally ended with an acquittal after the jury deliberated for less than 5 minutes compared with 43 hours straight in the first trial and 44 hours in the second trial. Uncle of actor/comedian Al St. John .

It is often reported that Arbuckle's career as an actor ended with the rape trials and that he died forgotten. In fact, Arbuckle was in the midst of starring in a series of successful shorts and was on his way back up when he died. Biography in: "Who's Who in Comedy" by Ronald L. Smith; pg. 21-22. New York: Facts on File, 1992. ISBN 0816023387 An excellent breakdown of the rape/murder scandal is "Frame-Up!: the Untold Story of Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle", by Andy Edmonds. He was the very first actor to be paid a million dollars a year. A screenplay about his life floated around Hollywood for years but never got sold. At one point, John Belushi was considered for the role, then John Candy , then Chris Farley . All three died suddenly and the script has been shelved indefinitely. The legend that his box office clout faltered after the scandal is not entirely true.

Actually his films were making just as much money as they had been before the scandal, the problem was that with all the scathing headlines about him, studios were reluctant about putting him under contract and so he had problems getting work. It was written in his contract that his weight remain above 250 pounds and that he would be given a healthy yearly bonus if he exceeded that by 50 to 100 pounds. He kept his weight well over 300 during his career. Biography in: "American National Biography". Supplement 1, pp. 11-13. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. Some filmographies credit him as co-director of the film Sherlock Jr. (1924). The confusion comes from the fact that Buster Keaton did originally hope to have Arbuckle work as his co-director on the film, but ultimately Arbuckle was still too depressed over the scandal that had nearly ended his career three years earlier, and had become difficult to work with, so Keaton went ahead as the sole director of the film.

The claim that Arbuckle was a co-director on the film was substantiated by Minta Durfee ; however, her claims lose credibility when she also stated that Arbuckle was the sole screenwriter of the film. The script was definitely written by Joseph A. Mitchell , Jean C. Havez and Clyde Bruckman , Keaton's usual team of gag-men from this era. Historians agree there is no credibility to the claim that Arbuckle ever directed so much as a frame of the movie. Met Buster Keaton accidentally one day while strolling down Broadway in New York City with vaudeville veteran Lou Anger . Anger, who was an old stage acquaintance of Keaton's, introduced them. Arbuckle immediately invited Keaton to visit the Colony Studio where he was about start a series of two-reel comedies for Joseph M. Schenck . The famous duo was thusly formed. Had a "wonderful" singing voice and was extremely agile. Is the subject of the novel "I, Fatty" by Jerry Stahl . Started his movie career in 1909 with the Selig Polyscope Company. Joined Keystone Studios as a member of the Keystone Kops in 1913.

Is the only person to have the three top silent film comedians, Charles Chaplin , Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd appear in supporting roles in his films; Chaplin assists Arbuckle in The Knockout (1914); Lloyd is his co-star in Miss Fatty's Seaside Lovers (1915); and Keaton supported him in at least 14 shorts. Although he divorced his first wife Minta Durfee in 1925, they did in fact separate as early as in 1917. Signed a contract for Paramount Pictures in 1920 for $1,000,000. Once owned a quarry in southern California. Two months after he sold the quarry, oil was discovered on the property. Began his career as an entertainer in vaudeville at age 12 in order to survive, after his mother died and his alcoholic father had abandoned him. In 1924, he hired Bob Hope as a "cheap act" for his traveling vaudeville show. After seeing Hope perform at the Bandbox Theater in Cleveland, Arbuckle sensed he would be a major star if he just had the right break.

He contacted some friends in Los Angeles and instructed Hope to do the same. Hope eventually followed his advice and headed west. Arbuckle hated the nickname "Fatty" and insisted that his friends and acquaintances always address him by his real first name, Roscoe. He was the first movie star in America to systematically direct his own films. He directed most of his output from 1914 and onwards. Profiled in "American Classic Screen Profiles" by John C. Tibbets and James M. Welch (2010). In 1927, he was engaged to direct and star a series of comedy shorts for producer Abe Carlos. The films were to be shot in Berlin and distributed internationally, and Arbuckle's then wife Doris Deane was to star with him. The films were never produced, and it's unknown if Arbuckle saw any financial gain from the deal. He was posthumously awarded a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6701 Hollywood Boulevard in Hollywood, California on February 8, 1960.

A fictionalized version of the events that destroyed Arbuckle's career appears in James Ivory 's film The Wild Party (1975) starring James Coco as a silent film star based on the comedian. He was the recipient of the first custard pie to be thrown in a film -A Noise From the Deep (1913) It was thrown by Mabel Normand. Personal Quotes (12) [on his sex-and-murder scandal in 1921] I don't understand it. One minute I'm the guy everybody loves, the next I'm the guy everybody loves to hate. [when he was called "Fatty" off-screen, a nickname he hated] I got a name, you know. [on his first wedding anniversary, shortly before his death] This is the best day of my life. I shall produce nothing that will offend the proprieties whether applied to children or grown-ups. My pictures are turned out with clean hands and therefore with a clear conscience which, like virtue, is its own reward.

Nothing would grieve me more than to have mothers say, "Let's not go there [in cinema] today, Arbuckle is playing and he isn't fit for children to see." I want them to think always otherwise for me, for as long as I can please the kiddies, I don't care who entertains their elders. [on Charles Chaplin ] I have always regretted not having been his partner in a longer film than these one-reelers we made so rapidly. He is a complete comic genius, undoubtedly the only one of our time and he will be the only one who will be still talked about a century from now. I don't believe there is any finer mission on earth than just to make people laugh. My birth and a cyclone blew Smith Center [Kansas] off the map. You only star in movies from picture to picture. If two or three pictures are bad, you're not a star anymore. It's a constant worry. That's why movie people are temperamental. It's a terrible strain! I've never used my weight to get a laugh. That is, used my size as the subject for humor. You never saw me stuck in a doorway or stuck in a chair.

If you'll analyze my pictures you'll see that they're humorous in themselves, except, of course, that the audience remarks about the agility on account of the weight. Titles and trademarks don't count. They're no good unless the picture is funny. How did I become a star? I don't know how it happened. When I look at my old pictures, I can't tell how it happened! No price is too high to pay for a good laugh. A good laugh...is the most worthwhile thing in life. Salary (2) Executed in Error | Perennial Thrillers: Murder, Mystery, Obsession | Secrets of the Dead | PBS Perennial Thrillers: Murder, Mystery, Obsession 0 SHARES Explore more from this episode More On November 9, 1888, the body of 25-year-old Mary Jane Kelly was found inside a lodging house on Dorset Street. Her throat had been slashed, her face mutilated beyond recognition, her chest and abdomen cut open and her internal organs, as well as flesh from her limbs, were left on the bed where she lay. Kelly’s heart was missing and disappeared without a trace.

London Police received a series of letters from a man calling himself “Jack the Ripper” (one of the letters included a part of a human organ) and the name struck a chord with the media and the public. The crimes of “Jack the Ripper” were reported in full detail by the mass media and readily consumed by the general public—and was one of the first crimes to earn the title “Crime of the century.” Over a hundred years later, Jack the Ripper is still the subject of horror stories and films and was an important precedent in the way the media treated the case of Hawley Crippen. “Crime of the century” was a phrase used throughout the twentieth century to describe horrific events that shocked the nation and became part of the media’s fascination. David Berkowitz, Elizabeth Short, Lizzie Borden, Leopold and Loeb, Charles Manson— — they were all the focus of crimes that shocked, and haunted us. They are remembered for their news headlines and rumors at the time as well as their cultural impact. All of the crimes and cases listed below obsessed the news media of the day and well over a century later they still generate books, movies– even the occasional PBS documentary.

The Fatty Arbuckle Scandal – 1920 Crime: Charged for murder Place: St. Francis Hotel, San Francisco Suspect: Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle Victim: Virginia Rappe Sentence: Acquitted Arbuckle threw a small party in his suite at the Hotel St. Francis, during which actress Virginia Rappe suffered a fatal internal injury. Although the evidence showed the bladder rupture was not caused by external force, she claimed Arbuckle sexually assaulted her. “Fatty Arbuckle Sought in Orgy Death,” “An obese Hollywood comedy star takes advantage of a naïve young actress, puncturing her bladder during forced sex,” ran the newspaper headlines. Arbuckle went through three trials and while the third trial acquitted him of all crimes, and the jury issued him an apology, the media destroyed his reputation and film career. Arbuckle died in 1933, after falling into alcoholism, and obscurity.

The Lindbergh Trial – 1932 Victim: Charles Lindbergh Jnr, age 2 Sentence: Executed by electric shock, April 3, 1936 On the night of March 1, 1932, someone snuck into the home of aviation hero Charles Lindbergh and kidnapped his baby son out of his nursery. On May 12, two truck drivers found the child’s body in the woods about four miles away from the Lindbergh mansion. “Lindy baby found dead near home,” ran the newspaper headlines. In all, there were literally thousands of leads followed by the FBI, but eventually 34-year-old German carpenter Bruno Hauptmann was arrested in his car, and tried for the crime. The trial, which the renowned journalist H.L. Mencken called “the greatest story since the Resurrection,” took place in a small town in New Jersey, with hundreds of reporters and spectators. While Hauptmann was found guilty and was electrocuted at Trenton State Prison, his guilt, to this day, remains an unanswered question. The case remains a “Crime of the Century” because it involved Charles Lindbergh the first man to fly the Atlantic in a one-engine airplane.

Hauptmann’s trial, which was filmed and shown in movie theaters, began on February 2, 1935. A number of novels have been published about the trial, as well as several television documentaries including the PBS program, reliving the Lindbergh Case. The Black Dahlia – 1947 Place: Leimert Park, Los Angeles Victim: Elizabeth Short, aged 22 Perpetrator: Unknown On the morning of January 15, 1947, a housewife was pushing a baby carriage along a residential street in South Los Angeles, when something caught her attention. She saw what appeared to be a store mannequin dumped in the grass a few inches from the sidewalk. On closer inspection, it was the body of a young woman, cut in half, and completely drained of blood. The two detectives assigned to the case determined that the murderer had used a knife to cut 3-inch gashes into each corner of her mouth. The sensational nature of the murder resulted in the victim being referred to as the “Black Dahlia” by the Los Angeles press. The victim was identified as 22-year-old Elizabeth ‘Betty’ Short.

“Police seek mad pervert in girl’s death,” ran the Washington Post. In early newspaper reports, the press played up the fact that Short was a struggling actress, and very promiscuous. The Examiner went so far as to call her mother, Phoebe Short, and made up lies about her daughter. They told her that Elizabeth had won a beauty contest, and once they got the got as much personal information as possible from Mrs. Short, the paper informed her that daughter Elizabeth was actually dead. The case generated a huge list of suspects, possible motives, and urban legends. More than 60 years after Elizabeth’s body was found, the case remains unsolved. The famous murder became the subject of movie directed by Brian DePalma based on the 1987 James Ellroy novel “The Black Dahlia.” “What’s amazing about the Black Dahlia, besides the fact that her body is in two parts, and the way her mouth is slashed… she’s displayed in like a horror show,” DePalma said in 2006 ABC interview about his film.

The Murder Of Marilyn Sheppard – 1954 Crime: Murder Victim: Marilyn Sheppard (and her unborn baby) Perpetrator: Unknown On July 4, 1954, Marilyn Sheppard was bludgeoned to death in the bedroom of her home in the Cleveland suburb of Bay Village. Her husband, Dr. Sam Sheppard, was asleep on the sofa downstairs when he said he heard his wife’s screams and ran upstairs to find a man standing over the body of his wife. Within weeks after the murder, the Cleveland press turned against him, and called Sheppard a “liar.” Dr. Sheppard was charged with his wife’s murder, and he spent ten years in the Ohio Penitentiary before he was eventually acquitted. The trial was a national and international sensation in the media, but it eventually destroyed the Sheppard family. Dr. Sheppard eventually drank himself to death, in April 1970, at the age of 46. His son Sam Reese Sheppard sought to clear the family name for his father’s unlawful imprisonment, but the jury ruled that he had failed to prove that his father had been wrongfully imprisoned.

The public has speculated that the case became the inspiration for the 1960s TV series and Oscar-winning film “The Fugitive” in which a doctor, who is wrongly accused of the murder of his wife, goes on the run in order to track down the killer, although the creators of the series and film deny a connection. In Cold Blood – 1959 Date: November 15, 1959 Place: Holcomb, Kansas Victims: Herb Clutter, aged 48; Bonnie Clutter, aged 44; Nancy Clutter, aged 16; Kenyon Clutter, aged 15 Suspects: Perry Smith and Richard Hickock Sentence: Hickock and Smith were hanged on April 14, 1965 at Lansing Correctional Facility Media Coverage: more than 288 stories on the “The Clutter Family” killing to date In November of 1959, four members of the Clutter family of Holcomb, Kansas, were murdered in their home at River Valley Farm by two small-time criminals.

Herb Clutter, his wife and two of their four children were killed, and the fear and suspicion spawned by the crime almost destroyed the entire community. The writer Truman Capote saw a news account of the murders and decided to travel to Holcomb to investigate the case. He researched the town, the victims, the locals and the killers for years, publishing In Cold Blood in 1965, after the murderers Smith and Hickock were executed. Capote broke new ground in literature, and some say he even changed the face of journalism, by writing what he came to call a “nonfiction novel.” The best-selling book was the subject of a 1967 film. Actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman won the 2005 Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of the famed writer in the film Capote, which deals with the writing of In Cold Blood.

The Zodiac Killer – 1968 Date: December 20, 1968 – October 11, 1969 Place: San Francisco, California Victims: David Faraday, Betty Lou Jensen, Darlene Ferrin, Cecillia Ann Shepard and Paul Stine Perpetrator: Unknown On December 20, 1968, teenagers David Faraday and Betty Lou Jensen were parked in a “lover’s lane’ near San Francisco when shots were fired into their car. While both had been murdered, neither victim had been robbed or sexually assaulted, and the police failed to identify a motive or a killer. Then, on July 4, 1969, the gunman struck again, and then again on the afternoon of September 27. Before it was all over, the killer took five lives. The killer wanted to let the police and newspapers know what he had done. Three letters were sent to local newspapers confessing to the murders and including a description of the ammunition. The San Francisco Chronicle received a letter from the “Zodiac Killer” confessing to the crime. Inside the letter was part of the victim’s shirt.

Even though the murders ceased in 1969, the unknown killer continued to taunt the police with phone calls and cryptic messages. And, while the police investigated over 2,500 potential suspects, and the unknown killer claimed responsibility for as many as 37 deaths, the case was never officially solved. Charles Manson Murders – 1969 Date: July 27 – August 9, 1969 Place: Los Angles, California Victims: Gary Hinman, Steven Parent, Sharon Tate, Jay Sebring, Abigail Folger, ‘Votek Frykowski, Leno LaBianca, Rosemary LaBianca Perpetrators: Susan Atkins, Bobby Beausoleil, Clem Crogan, Linda Kasabian, Patricia Krenwinkel, Leslie Van Houten, Charles Watson and Charles Manson Sentence: Death sentences were changed to life imprisonment On the night of August 8, 1969, Charles Manson and friends committed several brutal and bloody murders of actress Sharon Tate and four other people in Hollywood. The leader, ex-con and failed musician, was later found to be responsible for ordering the murder spree—his name was Charles Manson.

During the trial, which started on June 15, 1970, Manson’s followers—followed his every move, even carving swastikas into their foreheads. After the longest trial in US history, the members of Manson’s group were found guilty and sentenced to death, but in 1972 California revoked the death penalty—before Manson or the murderers could be executed. Right after the trial, there were a number of articles written that were favorable to Manson and his followers. For a while, it appeared that he might become some sort of cult hero. While that never really materialized, Manson still receives a large amount of mail, much of it from young followers. There have been several plays about him, movies and documentaries– even an opera. Related resources: Did Fatty Arbuckle Really Rape Virginia Rappe With A Coke Bottle?! | National Enquirer Did Fatty Arbuckle Really Rape Virginia Rappe With A Coke Bottle?!

Mar 9, 2015 @ 13:34PM Mar 9, 2015 @ 13:34PM Funnyman FATTY ARBUCKLE was the biggest thing in Hollywood literally but when he was accused of the heinous rape and murder of a notorious party girl his adoring public wanted him strung up! HE was one of Hollywood’s biggest stars and adored by millions. But silent film funnyman Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle’s good life burst like a balloon when he was charged with murdering aspiring actress Virginia Rappe after a shocking orgy. “I don’t understand it,” Arbuckle said at the time. “One minute, I’m the guy everybody loves, and the next, I’m the guy everybody loves to hate.” His world turned upside down on Sept. 5, 1921, when party girl Rappe fell seriously ill at a San Francisco bash thrown by the rotund actor, who was the first movie star to earn $1 million a year. Ailing Rappe was examined by a doctor who concluded she was suffering from alcohol poisoning after drinking too much bootleg liquor.

But when she died four days later, Rappe’s friend Bambina Maude Delmont, accused Arbuckle of raping the brunette beauty and accidentally crushing her bladder during a drunken sex session! And newspapers of the day propelled by scandal sheet moguls William Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer ran reports that Fatty had penetrated her with a Coke Bottle and/or a champagne bottle. Neither claim was true and it took three trials to prove it. The penny dreadful one-sheets portrayed Arbuckle as a gross pervert who used his weight to overpower innocent girls. In reality, Arbuckle was so shy with women that he was regarded by many, "the most chaste man in pictures". The prosecutor, San Francisco District Attorney Matthew Brady, an intensely ambitious man, made public pronouncements of Arbuckle’s guilt before the trial and pressured witnesses to make false statements. His star witness, Bambina Delmont, had a long criminal record with convictions for racketeering, bigamy, fraud and extortion and allegedly worked the “badger game” – luring men into compromising positions and capturing them in photographs, to be used as evidence in divorce proceedings or for blackmail. Ultimately, the judge found no evidence of rape.

“Arbuckle’s weight will damn him,” predicted friend Earl Rogers. “He’ll no longer be the roly-poly, good-natured, funny 350-pound fat man everybody loves. He’ll become a monster. They’ll never convict him, but this will ruin him.” And the prediction proved tragically true. Arbuckle endured two trials that ended with hung juries before he was acquitted in April 1922 by a jury that also signed a statement of apology for the “great injustice” he had suffered. However, Hollywood was far less forgiving as Fatty turned to alcohol for comfort. Said his first wife Araminta: “Roscoe only seemed to find solace and comfort in a bottle.” The only person who would employ Fatty was his former protégée Buster Keaton. Then on June 28, 1933, Arbuckle finally signed a new film contract with Warner Brothers. “This is the best day of my life,” he crowed. Unfortunately, his joy was short-lived. The penniless comedian died that night at age 46 from a heart attack.

Question: In the Fatty Arbuckle murder case what was the name of the victim
Answer: Virginia