The myths, magic, fable and fantasy splattered throughout the few short blocks of Central Hollywood would put a medieval fairytale to shame. A rich sense of nostalgia pervades the area, giving it an appeal no measure of tourists or souvenir postcard stands can diminish. Although you’re much more likely to find a porno theater than spot a real star, the decline which blighted Hollywood from the early 1960s is fast receding, with all manner of new investment and redevelopment projects, which may have at least a chance of success. Nevertheless the place still gets hairy after dark, with adolescents cruising Hollywood Boulevard in customized cars and occasional petty criminals on the prowl for the odd pocketbook.
The natural place to begin exploring Hollywood Boulevard is the junction of Hollywood and Vine – the classic location for budding stars to be mythically “spotted” by big-shot directors and whisked off to fame and fortune. At 6608 Hollywood Blvd, the purple and pink Frederick’s of Hollywood has been (under-) clothing Hollywood’s sex goddesses since 1947, as well as mortal bodies all over the world via mail order. Inside, the lingerie museum (daily 10am–6pm, Fri open until 9.45pm; free) displays some of the company’s best corsets, bras and panties, donated by happy big-name wearers ranging from Lana Turner to Cher.
A little further on, the Egyptian Theater at no. 6708 was financed by impresario Sid Grauman, in a modest attempt to re-create the Temple of Thebes. The very first Hollywood premiere (Robin Hood) took place here in 1922. Now owned by the city, Grauman’s Thebes has recently been reborn as home to American Cinematheque, a film preservation and exhibition group that presents film festivals and hourly showings of a touristy documentary extolling the fact and fantasy behind Hollywood. No Hollywood visitor will want to miss the mundane yet magical foot and hand prints in the concrete concourse of the 1927 Mann’s Chinese Theatre at 6925 Hollywood Blvd. Actress Norma Talmadge (supposedly by accident) trod in wet cement while visiting the construction site, and the practice has continued ever since, starting with Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks Sr, at the opening of King of Kings, and recently involving stars such as Al Pacino. Through the halcyon decades, this was the spot for movie first-nights. As for the building, it’s an odd western version of a classical Chinese temple, replete with dodgy Chinese motifs and upturned dragon tail flanks.
The Roosevelt Hotel opposite was movieland’s first luxury hotel, its Cinegrill restaurant hosting the likes of W C Fields and F Scott Fitzgerald, not to mention hangers-on like Ronald Reagan and the alleged ghost of 1950s-era actor Montgomery Clift. In 1929 the first Oscars were presented here, beginning the long tradition of Hollywood rewarding itself in the absence of honors from elsewhere.
Despite the beliefs of some of their loopiest fans, even the biggest Hollywood stars have been mortal; the many LA cemeteries that hold their tombs get at least as many visitors as the city’s museums. In the southeast corner of the Hollywood Memorial Cemetery, near Santa Monica Boulevard and Gower Street, a mausoleum contains the resting place of Rudolph Valentino, the celebrated screen lover who died aged just 31 in 1926. To this day on each anniversary of his passing (August 23), at least one “Lady in Black” – as his posthumous devotees are known – will likely be found mourning. The achingly ostentatious memorial to Douglas Fairbanks Sr, who with his wife Mary Pickford did much to introduce social snobbery among movie-making people, is just outside. Also on view are the graves of Hollywood’s more recently deceased inhabitants: an increasingly large population of Russian and Armenian immigrants.