In his new biography, "The Secret Life of Bob Hope" (Barricade; $21.99), writer Arthur Marx -- Groucho's son -- acknowledges Hope's place in the Hollywood pantheon. But he also portrays the private Hope as a determined man who elbowed his way out of an impoverished childhood to create a persona that made him rich and famous -- and lured to his bedroom some of the most beautiful women in Hollywood.
Among the allegations that have Hollywood insiders reaching for the index to see if they're named in the book:
That Hope's screen persona of the leering lecher is closer to his real personality than is his carefully groomed public image, and that he bedded not only local trollops but Las Vegas showgirls and some of his film co-stars, also.
Marx alleges that these activities continued into the mid-1980s. His list
of Hope's liaisons includes Rhonda Fleming, Gloria DeHaven, Janis Paige,
Joey Heatherton, Marilyn Maxwell (in photo with Hope), Barbara Payton, Johnine Leigh Avery (Miss
World USA 1968) and pro golfer Jeanne Carmen.
Other allegations:
That a female publicist who was also a Hope paramour committed suicide after he fired and rejected her.
That Hope and Bing Crosby used to trade casual sex partners, each introducing the other to women they thought were particularly good in bed.
That Hope rented apartments near his Toluca Lake home so he could visit his mistresses during his midnight strolls.
That Hope tormented his underpaid writers with middle-of-the-night demands for fresh "ad libs," and tossed their paychecks -- folded into paper airplanes -- down to them from the balcony of his office to watch them scramble for their money.
That Dolores Hope, a devout Catholic, was aware of her husband's philandering but, for the most part, looked the other way.
That Hope was secretly married to an early stage partner, before his six-decade marriage to Dolores -- and that a daughter, financially supported by the Hopes, may have been born from that earlier union.
That Hope's real estate timing -- he shrewdly bought up thousands of acres in the San Fernando Valley in the 1950s -- was as finely honed as his comedy.
Angry and upset
If Hope himself has taken note of the furor, he has done so in private.
Hope spokesman Ward Grant said recently, "The Hopes still will not dignify this book with a response. For my own part, I'm angry, upset."
Grant also told the Associated Press last week that there would be no comment but went on only to describe the book as "just a lot of old stuff, nothing new."
During an interview, Marx conceded that some of the information is old but said it never has been put in a book.
"(Several previous biographers) told me that their publishers had asked them not to put any of this stuff in," he said.
But Marx does not know whether the prohibition came from the publishers themselves, or whether Hope had used his influence to prevent publication.
"Hope did have a strong hand, reaching out, stopping a lot of (negative information). But I guess either his hand is weakening now, or he doesn't give a damn," he said.
"I think he's controlled everything pretty well," Marx said. "I'm surprised he's kept his people who work for him quiet. A good source I've found were the writers."
Writing for Bob Hope was a specialized skill, "sort of like writing a sitcom," Marx said. "My father once said, 'He's not really a comedian, but he's a good translator of other people's jokes.' "
Over the years, Hope has used reams of gags from an army of writers.
"He'd rather have 10 cheap writers than two expensive writers," Marx said, "but there was a period where he wasn't getting what he liked, and he hired three or four more-expensive writers. But he always ended up having outside writers and people sending him jokes -- and all these jokes ended up in your script, and they didn't fit the characters you'd written.
"He didn't feel secure without a joke. That's the insecurity of the comedian."
Over the hill
Marx and his writing partner, Bob Fisher, worked on four films for Hope: "Eight on the Lam," "A Global Affair," "I'll Take Sweden" and "Cancel My Reservation," which Marx said was the second to last picture Hope made. "I can't say they were his worst pictures, but they weren't very good," Marx said. "It was just, I thought, that he was a little over the hill for making those kind of movies."
Marx recounts those experiences in detail in "The Secret Life of Bob Hope," and he gained insights for the book from the contacts he made at that time. "The fact that I had a personal relationship helped," he noted, "because I was able to recount things that Louis Shurr, his agent, had told me about Hope and his women -- never knowing I was going to write a book about it."
In fact, Marx first tried to write a book about Hope in the early 1970s.
"I was going to do a book for Norton. But they came to me and said we would prefer that I don't do the bad things about him. And I said, well, then, what's the point of writing a book? I don't want to do another book that's just, 'I was a big hit here, I was a big hit there.'
"If you don't want me to do an honest biography about him, I won't do it at all."
Marx switched the topic of his book contract to Sam Goldwyn, and the Hope project was shelved.
He suggested the Hope book again in 1986 and 1987. "I had a good outline on it," he remembered, but his agent "didn't seem to be able to get any interest in it from the publishers. I guess nobody wanted to attack this idol, this icon."
Body of work
Marx found a large body of work about Hope's life, including a detailed biography, by former Hope spokesman William Faith.
"To tell the truth, when I first started to do this, I almost said, 'Maybe I shouldn't write this book, there are so many books about him,' " Marx recalled. But a thorough reading told him that the entire story -- and especially the role of the women in Hope's life -- was still to be told.
Marx believes that the book that finally emerged is a fair portrayal of Hope's complicated life. "I don't consider myself attacking him, but I did try to tell the truth about him."
As the son of Groucho Marx, the author was familiar with Hope long before he wrote for the comedian. "I remember him coming to our house once when we lived in Beverly Hills. I was about 13 or 14. I remember him sitting in our playroom talking to my father."
But Marx said it was difficult to feel close to Hope.
"He was sort of bright, but everyone I know felt that he was a kind of cold person, not the warm person that you think you see on television. Not standoffish or unfriendly . . . aloof. Let's say it this way: 'Cold like a killer.' If he didn't like you, he'd fire you."
Marx attributed this distance to a problem stemming from Hope's early poverty, as one of the younger sons of a large family. Hope's father was an alcoholic, and his mother took in boarders to support the family.
But Marx does not denigrate Hope's talent.
"I think he was very funny in the beginning. I think he was great with Crosby when they were doing the Road pictures -- although they did too many of them, which is what always happens with sequels. I think "The Facts of Life," with Lucille Ball, was a very funny picture. And I think he did the Academy Awards better than anyone I've seen, when he was good and sharp."
Marx expects mixed reviews from Hope's wide audience.
"Some of the older people who felt he did a magnificent job in World War II -- and he did a good job of entertaining the troops -- probably think I attacked him unfairly. Although I don't know if they all will . . . But I think the younger people will like what I've written."
And how does he think Hope will feel about the book? "I don't know if he'll read it. I think he's going to ignore it. I think he'll do what he's done so far.
"I hope he doesn't show it to Dolores. Even though she knows it, she probably won't like it. There's something about seeing something in print that hits you more than just hearing about it."
But, Marx, said, "I wasn't really out to attack him. I just wanted to tell the story that nobody really knew, except for a few people."
And, he asserted: "It's a fair book. I think it's a true picture of his life. Let someone else judge whether I've hurt his image or not. I don't think I have, and I don't think you can, he's so big. But I think a lot of people will read the book -- at least I hope so."