Before They Fade from View: The Tragic Real Life Story of Shane Star Alan Ladd

For a short stretch in the 1940s, Alan Ladd was Hollywood’s newest golden boy. Blessed with straw-blond hair and an amiable crinkle around the eyes, he was dashingly photogenic in spite of his short stature. He spent much of the ’30s as an unnamed extra, playing soldiers, sailors and the like. It wasn’t until 1942, when Ladd was 29, that he became a bonafide movie star. His breakout role would be film noir This Gun for Hire, propelling him and his sultry co-star Veronica Lake into huge success. A series of stylish detective films starring the pair followed. Ladd had redefined the hitman forever—rather than a clumsy goon, the archetype became an impassive, shadowy figure with a coldly handsome demeanor. (Alain Delon certainly owes this portion of his career to Ladd.) Ladd was never a romantic lead in the Tyrone Power mold, but he nonetheless became one of the most popular leading men of the decade.
But the road to stardom was a rocky one for the star. By the time he had cultivated the smooth, laconic persona of “The Raven” in his noir roles, he had a reason to seem cynical. Ladd had been raised dirt-poor in Los Angeles by a booze-soaked single mother. After his father died suddenly, he and his mother were left destitute, and Ladd was forced to work at whatever odd jobs he could. From the age of eight, he picked fruit and sold snacks at concession stands. The underside of the glamorous city was familiar indeed to Ladd.
The up-and-comer was working steadily as a grip and an extra at Warner Brothers by the late 1930s. But in 1937, tragedy struck. Ladd’s mother, after asking to borrow money from him, bought poison and drank it in the backseat of his car. She effectively committed suicide in front of her son, who became increasingly reliant on alcohol to cope with the trauma. Around the same time, the twenty-something had also married, divorced, and re-married, with several children to boot. He’d certainly experienced much of life before embracing the insular madness of fame.
Perhaps this was why he was never able to fully commit himself to the luxurious lifestyle of the leading man. Ill-equipped for stardom, the actor was never convinced of his talent nor his attractiveness. Many a costar commented on his manifold insecurities. “I have the face of an aging choirboy and the build of an undernourished featherweight,” he once said. Self-conscious though he was, he worked across several genres before the ’40s came to a close. His All-American looks allowed him to easily fit into westerns, war films and heroic leads. In 1949, he took a shot at actorly seriousness when he played the ultimate WASP: Jay Gatsby. This version of The Great Gatsby was met with mixed-to-negative reviews and a lukewarm box office, which did nothing to quell Ladd’s increasing emotional problems.