Bob and I rented the DVD of Hollywoodland on Saturday evening. The film tells the story of George Reeves, who played Superman on TV in the 50s, focusing particularly on the actor's last day on earth and whether his death was a suicide, as ruled by the coroner, or murder. I loved the movie's 50s period detail, and the intertwined narratives of George's rise to fame and the investigation of his demise by a seedy private detective worked well. I didn't feel the second half of the movie quite lived up to the potential of the first half, because the pacing slowed and the story of the detective's personal life was ho-hum, but I still wholeheartedly recommend the movie, especially if you're into Hollywood history. Ben Affleck did a fine job of portraying Reeves, much better than I'd expected.
So, I've been having a horrible time with my allergies and haven't been getting out much, but I didn't feel too badly on Sunday evening and was getting a bit of cabin fever, when a whim hit. Let's go for a ride into Beverly Hills and find the house occupied by Mr. Reeves on that unfortunate day. Hubby wasn't as excited by the prospect as I was (he's the sane one, after all :-), but he humored me, and off we went. We had a nice ride through Hollywood, down Sunset Boulevard (which is an amazing canyon of giant billboards), and into Beverly Hills, where we found the house. We stopped at Greenblatt's deli for take-out on the way back, cruised Hollywood Boulevard, and then hopped on the freeway. It actually turned into a nice evening.
Here's a picture of the house where Mr. Reeves met his end. It's modest by current Beverly Hills standards.