OUTRAGEOUS: PART FOUR
Becoming famous was the high. Being famous is the comedown.
Synopsis: Anna marries the man she loves, but underestimates the public’s reaction to their 63-year age difference. She goes from America’s favorite sex symbol to America’s favorite punchline overnight. Ugh! We start with a wedding, end with a funeral, and begin the biggest court case of her life in between.
1977
A pair of brunette strippers (49 and 19) saunter onto the stage at a titty bar in Houston.
The club goes dark. The spotlight shines on them.
Back-to-back, their fingers held like pistols, they undulate to the Charlie’s Angels theme song.
The older dancer digs her fingernails into her breasts and thighs.
This is Jewell Diane Walker, legendary stripper and socialite. Known in Houston as Lady.
Those fingernails? They’re made of 14-karat gold. No acrylic here, baby.
After all 58 seconds of their scintillating routine, we see J. Howard applauding in the full crowd.
All the men stare at Lady, but J.Howard stares at them. He likes them to notice the attention he gets from her.
She sits right down on his lap and straddles him, familiar. He’s in his late sixties. He looks old but healthy and he’s not using a wheelchair yet.
“They all want you and I’ve got you,” he teases her.
“What about Lucy?” Lady whispers and nods to the stage. The younger dancer, Lady, writhes.
J. Howard waves Lucy over to his driver, whose sitting next to him.
“Lucy is Lady’s daughter,” J. Howard says. “So don’t get into trouble.”
“Hey, don’t tell him that,” Lady starts. “It’s not for everyone to know.”
“Then why do you perform side-by-side?” J. Howard asks.
Lucy sits on the driver’s lap. Begins her weird and wonky table dance. She has her mother’s face, but not her talent.
Lady takes her place on J.Howard’s lap. Mother and daughter give side-by-side lap dances to Dolly Parton’s “Here You Come Again.”
Here you come again
Just when I'm about to make it work without you
You look into my eyes and lie those pretty lies
And pretty soon I'm wonderin' how I came to doubt you
J. Howard reaches between her legs, inside of her, then sucks his fingers. Dramatic. Cunt struck.
1991
We cut to Howard and Lady having lunch at the oil club. A couple decades later. Elegantly dressed. A big hat for her. Suit for him.
She pushes food around her plate, gazes out solemnly.
“You look too good to be sad,” J.Howard tells her. “What’s the matter?”
She shakes her head “no,” sips her water and avoids eye contact...only luring him in closer…
“What is it?” he begs her.
“Well, I love my outfit,” she pouts. “But I wish I had the matching Rolls Royce.”
“But I gave you the black Rolls Royce,” Marshall tells Lady. “And the Tudor Red, the Le Mans Blue. I think they all go with your outfit.”
“Oh you do?” Lady pouts.
Tenses her shoulders. Stares off in the other direction. Classic spoiled brat manipulation.
Next thing you know, they’re at the Rolls Royce dealership. Buying a glossy white Rolls.
Polaroid camera in-hand, the salesman snaps a photo of them both in front of her new car.
“Can you do one just of me?” Lady asks. “We match.”
J. Howard steps out of frame and Lady turns the volume up on her pose.
Later, at home in her best lingerie, Lady resumes an ongoing convo with J. Howard.
“But he’s your friend, you can get me in sooner,” she pleads. “The wait list is insane. Houston’s becoming the hottest city in the world for plastic surgery. It’s inconvenient.”
“You’re already the hottest lady in Houston,” Marshall flirts.
He gets into bed. She gives him puppy dog eyes.
“Okay, fine. I’ll call him tomorrow and write the check,” he promises her. “But I don’t want this.”
“Leave it blank,” she instructs. “You never know what else he might want to tweak.”
She kisses Marshall deeply.
We cut to Lady in surgery. A plastic surgeon works on her face. We see blood and bones.
We hear her heartbeat and the tinny clinks of their tools… until the urgent sound of her heartbeat flatlining takes over.
Lady dies on the plastic surgeon’s table mid-facelift.
OUTRAGEOUS
Thousands of fans crowd around Anna at a GUESS meet-and-greet.
1994
SINGAPORE
She autographs her GUESS advertisements and sometimes their shopping bags.
Eventually, the mob’s energy becomes too much to manage.
Anna looks to her security and he escorts her out, but the chaos soars as they follow her.
Anna dissociates through the screams, cheers and security orders.
Once safe inside her limo, Anna tosses back a Xanax like a pro. Nobody bats an eye.
“That was crazier than Tokyo,” Anna says. “I’ve never been with so many people in my life.”
A fan throws themself up against her window and we hear him smack on the glass.
“Can I just go home?” Anna asks.
In Los Angeles, Anna does business from her hotel room bed. Not home, but more like home..
Sandi hurries in with a bag of burgers as a publicist rattles off media metrics over the phone.
“Paul wants to continue touring as soon as possible,” the publicist adds. “Fans are really receptive to you. Everyone everywhere is talking about GUESS right now. Sales are up.”
“I’m sorry,” Anna says. “I just got overwhelmed. I wasn’t expecting anyone to show up, you know? Let alone so many thousands of people everywhere. I do want to meet everyone. Let’s talk more soon.”
She hangs up the phone before GUESS can press her on a date.
Anna and Sandi eat cheeseburgers, snort benzodiazepines and watch The Beverly Hillbillies.
When Sandi nods off during the movie, Anna kisses her awake.
Still in bed hours later, they watch Ghost together.
As it ends, Anna turns to Sandi and says, “Ditto.”
“Ditto,” Sandi replies.
(This quote from the movie is as close as they’ll ever get to saying “I love you.”)
The next day, Anna peers out of her bedroom curtains, paranoid.
“I swear these same people keep filming me,” Anna tells Sandi.
Sandi peers out the window but sees nothing.
“You keep missin’ them when you look away,” Anna tells her. “You think I’m lying?”
“It’s just that, you were already kinda paranoid before. Like you always thought people were looking at you back then, so I think it’s just worse now,” Sandi says. “It’s a little insane.”
Anna throws clothes and snacks and booze into her suitcase.
“We’re moving to a different hotel,” Anna says.
Sandi gets to packing.
After a bubble bath in the new suite, Sandi pats Anna’s hair dry and brushes it out for her.
Anna snorts an upper and offers some to Sandi.
“No thank you,” Sandi says. “I can’t handle those as well as you.”
Anna snorts up her portion.
Sandi begins blowing Anna’s hair dry when the hotel room phone rings. Anna runs to answer.
“Paw-Paw?” she asks into the phone.
“It’s me,” J.Howard says. “Is this the light of my life?”
“Yes,” Anna coos.
Sandi watches Anna in the mirror. Anna blows her a kiss as she listens to J.Howard.
“I miss you baby,” J. Howard says. “You saved my life, you know that?”
“Yes, I know,” Anna whispers.
Sandi looks on, hands on her hips, fed-up.
Anna covers her end of the phone and whispers to Sandi: “You know he’s like a grandpa to me.”
“Angel, can you please come back to Texas?” J. Howard pleads. “You’ve been so busy, but it’s time.”
We cut to the next morning. Sandi wakes up in the hotel room. Alone. She looks for Anna until she finds a note…
“That was fun! Ditto forever. Yours, Anna.”
Sandi stands still in total disbelief. Then tears the note up.
We cut to the Harry Winston store in Houston. Diamonds galore.
J. Howard watches as Anna tries on pieces of jewelry.
A sales associate chats up J.Howard as another assistant helps Anna.
“You know, I never got to express my condolences when Lady died,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“It was so awful,” J.Howard says. “Just terrible. I thought it was the end of me too, I’ll tell ya.”
A silence hangs.
“Then came my salvation,” J.Howard says, pointing to Anna.
They watch her pose in front of the other associate’s mirror -- in a necklace thick with diamonds.
“I’m just glad you’re happy,” the salesperson says. “We’ve all missed you around here.”
“Me or the commissions?” J.Howard chuckles. “Y’all know I’m a sucker.”
They laugh. Cut to J.Howard signing his receipt. Total cost of this impromptu haul? $2,000,000!
We cut to J.Howard on the pitcher’s mound in his wheelchair -- hurling softballs at Daniel.
Daniel makes contact and hits one out of the park.
Anna cheers as little Daniel rounds the bases.
Marshall beams with pride.
After, they celebrate at Red Lobster -- shoveling shrimp and biscuits.
Inside the restaurant, Anna feels the eyes on her. The stares.
Two people at another table gawk at them, playing “Daughter, granddaughter, or girlfriend?”
“Sometimes when people stare at me, it makes my body feel like lead,” Anna says. “I know I’m not light, but it gets me so heavy.”
“Misery loves company,” J. Howard says. “They’re miserable cuz they don’t look like you.”
Leaving dinner, Anna keeps her head down as she leaves with J. Howard at her side.
The sun sets, pink and orange, over the big ranch he bought for Anna.
Anna yells for Daniel to get in his jammies and meet them in the family room for a movie.
They all sit side-by-side and watch The Sandlot, tossing back popcorn. Laughing. You’d think all three are the same age.
The next morning, the house feels cozy. Wood burns in the fireplace and a breeze flows.
With the chef cooking downstairs, everyone wakes up to the smells of muffins, coffee, bacon.
At breakfast, Anna asks Daniel how he would feel if she married Paw Paw.
Daniel shrugs his shoulders. Keeps eating.
“Paw Paw wants to make our family official,” he says.
“I love the both of you,” J.Howard says.
“He wants to take care of us forever,” Anna says. “And be a real family.”
“Would that make you happy?” J.Howard asks.
They watch Daniel chew. Then swallow.
Finally, he nods yes.
Anna squeezes him.
“Good, because I couldn’t get married without the cutest ring bearer in the world!” Anna squeals.
Then she flashes him her new engagement ring -- 22 carats!
We cut to Anna admiring the ring (and her manicure) in the moments before her wedding.
With a manicured finger, she does the sign of the cross. A bride blessing herself.
As guests trickle into the White Dove Wedding Chapel, we meet Anna’s nemesis:
Pierce Marshall (50-something, conservative) marches in with his wife Elaiine (50s, mousy).
They scan the room, taking note of every over-the-top decoration.
“Even cruder than could be expected,” Pierce snickers.
“Your father isn’t the most refined man,” Elaine sneers. “But she’s the least refined woman.”
They take their seats, front and center.
As Anna, 26, floats down the aisle, J.Howard, 89, attempts to stand at the altar.
His legs buckle.
Anna dips to scoop J.Howard up and support his return to the wheelchair.
J.Howard beams with pride as he gazes at Anna. Even more than usual.
He promises to take care of her and Daniel.
She promises to be the light of his life.
They say “I do.”
As they leave the chapel as husband and wife, someone releases two white doves above them.
Outside, guests begin swigging champagne. Pierce drains his quickly. Grabs another.
“I wish I had my gun,” Pierce mutters.
“What dad?” his young son asks.
“Are you having fun?” Pierce asks him.
Anna swigs champagne during the reception. She sneaks Marshall small sips and bites of food.
Pierce looks on in disgust. His older brother, J. Howard Marshall III, approaches him.
“What are you even doing here?” Pierce asks.
“Anna invited me,” J.Howard III, her new stepson (60ish) tells his brother.
“Mrs. Cleavage thinks she’s becoming one of the richest women in America,” Pierce scoffs.
“Isn’t she?” J.Howard III asks.
“I’ll never let that happen,” Pierce continues.
“We’ll see,” J. Howard III. “Nobody knows better than me how deeply you enjoy keeping wealth from your own family.”
J.Howard III lights a cigarette.
In a moment of silence, the estranged brothers watch as Anna and J.Howard cut the cake.
The band plays. People drink, dance.
Later, still at the reception, J. Howard asks Pierce if he’s seen his bride.
“No, haven’t you?” Pierce asks. “Where is she?”
“I can’t seem to find her, but I’m sure she’s around,” J. Howard says. “I want to cherish every minute of this before it’s all over.”
J. Howard taps his foot in panic. Where’s Anna?
That’s when we see her -- the statuesque beauty in a buttery yellow suit. She’s on her way out...
“Bye darling, thank you for the best wedding,” Anna tells J.Howard. “I’m off to Greece.”
Anna kisses him goodbye and struts toward her chauffeured car, next to her big, hot bodyguard.
J.Howard’s eyes ache with hurt.
Pierce approaches him and watches Anna.
“What about your honeymoon?” Pierce asks. “Your wedding night?”
J.Howard can’t bring himself to say anything. Tears stream into his cake.
“I guess we’ll go another time,” J.Howard chokes. Embarrassed, alone. Doves still above him.
Anna’s limo drives away. She rolls her window down and blows kisses as they drive away.
Meanwhile, J.Howard III looks on and gossips to his wife (30s, blonde) about his dad:
“Financial domination yes, but public humiliation? Not his thing.”
We cut to Anna modeling bikinis in Greece. Clear, blue Mediterranean water. Hot yachties.
It’s all Bain de Soleil tanning gel and champagne for Anna at sea.
Salt in her hair, she passes out in her hotel and sleeps until the next morning.
When Anna wakes up, she hears the phone ring and fetches the breakfast at her door.
She answers. It’s her publicist.
“You’re everywhere,” she tells Anna. “They’re eating you up.”
“Do they like my wedding dress?” Anna asks, blissed out.
“No, it’s bad. You’re a punchline,” the publicist says. “You’re officially the most famous gold digger in the world.”
“Hey!” Anna says.
“I mean, in their eyes,” the publicist says.
“Isn’t all press good press?,” Anna says into the phone.
“GUESS WHO’S A GOLD DIGGER?’” her publicist reads. “It reflects badly on GUESS.”
“What did Paul say?” Anna asks. “Am I fired? Didn’t anyone like my dress? Or the doves?”
“THE BRIDE WEARS CLEAVAGE! PLAYMATE STRIKES GOLD!” she reads to Anna.
“This one’s harmless but still pretty bad, ‘BIG, YOUNG LADY MARRIES SMALL, OLD MAN!”
“They thought I looked big?” Anna whines.
“You were the topic of David Letterman’s Top Ten list last night too. Dating tips,” she tells him.
“Wow,” Anna exclaims. “He’s kinda cute.”
“‘Forget the personal ads, try the intensive-care unit,” the publicist reads.
“As if I haven’t known my husband for years,” Anna retorts.
“Don’t go flashing your ring around on your way home,” the publicist advises.
“They’re just jealous,” Anna says. “What happened to Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend?”
“I love your ring, but 22 carats doesn't make you seem less like a gold digger,” the publicist says.
Back in Houston, Sandi buys cigs at the Stop N Go and sees Anna all over the tabloids.
She grabs one and flips open to the wedding pictures.
There it is… the love of her life married to someone else. Without so much as a kiss goodbye.
“Are you gonna buy that?” a clerk asks.
Sandi tosses the magazine back on the rack and bolts out of the store.
Back in Houston, Anna shows off her huge diamond to the paparazzi. So much for that advice…
At home with J.Howard and Daniel, we see them eat dinner together as a family.
“I didn’t wanna marry you until I made a name for myself,” Anna tells her husband. “And they still think I’m a golddigger.”
“Consider the source,” J.Howard advises. “We don’t get our news from the National Enquirer.”
“I always preferred Star,” Anna adds. “I read it alllll the time as a kid. I like how soft the paper is.”
“Let’s wipe our ass with it,” J.Howard says. “Then it’d be useful for something.”
Daniel giggles.
(J.Howard may not always get exactly what he wants from Anna, but he’s too proud to have outsiders disrespect their relationship like this.)
“I guess I just like being liked,” Anna says.
“But we love you,” J.Howard smiles, nodding to Daniel.
Anna blows them kisses but deep inside… she wonders if that’s enough…
Days later, alone in front of her boudoir mirror, Anna receives a call from her publicist.
“I thought it would die,” the publicist says. “But it’s growing. The wedding is now global news.”
Anna looks at her big pile of tabloids and their nasty headlines about her.
“I get married and all of a sudden I’m a dumb, fat golddigger?” Anna asks. “One day I’m a fucking supermodel and now I’m some hick?”
“Stay calm,” the publicist says. “This will go away, just not anytime soon.”
Anna rattles a Xanax out from its bottle and swallows. Hangs up the phone.
She seeks spiritual guidance from a higher power. Not God! Marilyn Monroe.
Anna makes a little altar with roses, crystals and cards. The centerpiece is a photo of Marilyn.
“Why is everyone being so mean?” Anna asks Marilyn. “I married the only person who ever really loved me. Well, the only man to ever really love me. Maybe this is what I get for...”
Anna stops talking. Can’t say Sandi’s name. Breathes deep before she continues.
“I’m no gold digger,” Anna says. “But since when is gold digging a crime?”
Off screen, we hear J.Howard call out for Anna, “Light of my life?”
“Coming darling,” Anna responds.
She lingers, hopeful for an answer, before she darts off to join her husband in bed.
We cut to J.Howard’s office. A meeting adjourns but Pierce still sits across from him.
“Aren’t you sick of people rolling their eyes at you behind your back?” Pierce asks.
“I want my wife taken care of,” J.Howard says. “Maybe if you stopped rolling your eyes others would follow suit.”
“I can’t believe you’d do this again after we sued Lady,” Pierce tells his dad.
“We didn’t sue Lady, we sued her estate,” Marshall corrects him.
“Lady didn’t love you,” Pierce says. “And neither does this one. ”
“Lady didn’t love me as much as I loved her,” Marshall says. “I was spiteful. Her diaries...”
“Spilled the beans,” Pierce reprises. “Dad, she was fucking everyone. She had one true love and it wasn’t you. After everything you gave her. How can you make the same mistake again?”
“Loving someone is never really a mistake,” Marshall answers. “Vickie’s different.”
“You can’t keep changing your will,” Pierce says. “Please, make a gal-dang prenup next time.”
Pierce heads for the door in a huff.
“No need! I’m gonna die with the most beautiful woman in the world next to me,” Marshall calls.
We cut to Anna on set, in hair and makeup, looking stunning.
“I’ve never read New York Magazine,” Anna tells the hair stylist as he sprays her. “But I’ve heard of it, yes. Hef told me about it.”
“And now you’re gonna be on the cover,” he coos. “Miss American Beauty.”
Anna flips through Vogue and pauses on a Versace campaign full of svelte supermodels.
“Whenever I see other models, they don’t talk to me,” Anna says. “They just stare. I think they’re jealous that I don't have to starve myself to keep my job. At least not yet.”
They laugh.
On set, the photographer leads Anna in front of a white backdrop. She poses in her pastel pink tank, denim cut-offs, and white cowboy boots. Anna’s beauty and grace radiates.
The simple set up emphasizes her charisma and talent.
The crew calls for a camera break.
Anna grabs a handful of Cheez Doodles and slips onee into her mouth one-by-one.
She squats down to stretch while she snacks on her Cheez Doodles.
Suddenly, a flash goes off. The photographer captures her snacking Anna laughs.
She doesn’t think much of it….
At a McDonald’s in Houston, Anna and Daniel enjoy Happy Meals at a booth.
“Eat all your burger and fries or else I’m not getting us cookies,” Anna warns him.
Daniel enjoys his Power Ranger Happy Meal toy and Anna gives him hers.
“You can be the pink one since that’s your favorite color,” Daniel tells Anna.
“OK, which one do you want to be?” Anna asks.
Daniel wonders, murmurs, unable to choose.
“That’s OK, you can be every single one of them,” Anna tells him. “You don’t have to choose.”
As they talk, a dowdy middle-aged woman approaches their booth.
“I’m praying for your son,” she tells Anna.
“Thank you,” Anna smiles. Christian to Christian!
“Yes, I’m praying for him,” she says. “After everything you’ve put him through. With that husband of yours. It’s all sick!”
“Daniel, baby, go play in the ball pit,” Anna tells him.
He gets up but walks slowly, eavesdropping.
“Listen bitch, if you ever talk to me or my son again I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out,” Anna says. “I swear to God!”
“I pray everyday for all the children whose mothers don’t have morals,” the woman says. “What’s happened to this country?”
“Go home and tell it to your cats before I have you removed for harassment,” Anna warns.
“You have a foul mouth,” the woman says. “As I could have guessed from the papers.”
Anna stands up, tall and strong, and gets really close to the woman’s ear.
“Keep on reading about me bitch,” she whispers. “People like you will never stop me.”
Anna watches the woman run out, then cannonballs into the ball pit with Daniel.
We cut to Anna with the New York Magazine cover. Did one of the hundreds of beauty portraits Anna took that day get published? Nope. Just the shot with the Cheez Doodles. Anchored by the headline:
“WHITE TRASH NATION”
Not exactly how Anna, nor her teams at Elite and WMA, expected her image to be portrayed...
Magazine in hand, Anna fumes. Ashamed. Feeling like a poor, fat, unloved, little girl in Mexia...
“How could they do this to me?” Anna roars. “After everything I’ve done to become Anna Nicole Smith? They still want me to feel like shit? I’m a fucking GUESS girl! Did they do this shit to Claudia Schiffer?”
Anna’s lawyer files a suit against New York Magazine and seeks $5 million in damages.
"I guess they just found the picture we chose unflattering," Anna’s publicist reads to her. “That’s what the editor told the press today.”
Back in Houston, J.Howard lays tiny in his huge bed. Anna, in cozy lingerie, drapes across him.
How to Marry a Millionaire (1953) plays on the huge TV in front of them.
We watch the movie along with Anna and J.Howard.
On screen, Lauren Bacall, Betty Grable and Marilyn Monroe play Schatze Page, Loco Dempsey and Pola Debevoise -- all in gowns in a fancy powder room.
The 1935 song “I Got A Feelin' You're Foolin'” plays. The gals dish about their respective dates.
“Who is he?” Betty asks.
“I don’t know, but he hasn’t mentioned anything under a million yet, “ Marilyn says.
“My guy’s real class. Never mentions his wealth, just refers to it,” Lauren says.
“All Mr. Rooster talks about is what a horrible family he’s got, but I’ll say this for him, we haven’t ordered anything yet under $5 a portion,” Betty says.
“If there’s anything leftover, don’t forget to tell the waiter you want to take it home for the dog,” Marilyn says.
Anna giggles as she watches. Trusting but trepidatious, she asks J.Howard something…
“Does everything the magazines and TV shows say about our marriage bug you?” she asks.
J.Howard strokes her forehead.
“No, precious. I know you only married me for my body,” he tells her.
They giggle and she pecks his lips.
Later, Anna spoons Marshall as he sleeps. She squeezes him, cozy. Her guard down. Relaxed.
He snores loudly and she smiles. But then she feels something… wetness. Why is the bed wet?
She rolls away and pulls the covers back. Reveals Marshall’s peed the sheets.
She stands there and watches him. More concerned than disgusted. But a little of both…
Does she wake him or let him sleep? He’s gonna get a bath in the morning…
She picks J.Howard up and places him on the couch with a blanket. He keeps snoring.
Anna tiptoes out of their bedroom and slips into Daniel’s race car bed with him. He holds her.
At breakfast the next morning, there’s no mention of wet sheets.
Anna and Daniel eat real food. Marshall is fed through a tube.
Anna asks Marshall questions about his life so many decades before theirs together.
“What year did you get married the first time?” she asks.
“1931,” he says.
“Oh lord,” she asks, blown away by how long ago that was. Daniel giggles.
“And the second time?” she asks.
“1961,” he says.
“Still before I was born,” she teases. “Why’d you wait so long in between?”
“I was married to Eleanore for 30 years. Then I met Bettye at work. I called her Tiger. Eventually, I left Elaine, married Tiger. We were together for 30 years too, until you know, Alzheimer's…” Marshall explains.
“You’re so loyal, baby,” she says. “Most people can’t stay married for 30 years, let alone twice.”
“That’s not how most people interpret that story,” he laughs.
“I’m jealous we won't have as long, Paw Paw,” she says. “I wish we could be together forever.”
Marshall clasps Anna’s hand.
“But you’re goin’ with me to eternity right here,” he says and brings her hands to his heart.
Soon enough, it’s Christmas ‘94 in Texas.
Anna, Daniel and J.Howard pose for gorgeous photos in front of the tree. All in festive red.
Anna sits behind Marshall on the floor and supports him as he opens gifts from her.
On Christmas morning, Anna drives a four-wheeler around as Marshall holds on to her back. Whee! Daniel trails ahead in one of his own, a big bow still attached to its handles. They race.
Come January, Marshall looks much worse. One night, he really struggles in pain.
Anna stays up with him, whispering prayers and hiding her concerned tears.
Daniel, half-asleep, stumbles in and asks what’s wrong but Anna asks him to go back to bed.
Anna tells J.Howard he needs some vitamins and minerals.
“We gotta replenish you after all that throwing up,” Anna explains.
In the kitchen, she warms up some chicken broth and serves it in a porcelain bowl.
Back in the bedroom, she serves him slurps of it from a silver spoon.
“Do you like this?” she asks. He nods “yes,” unable to speak.
But after another spoonful, Marshall coughs and chokes.
She freaks out, breaks the bowl and burns herself.
“Shit, fuck,” Anna says.
She wraps her arms around him to maybe do the heimlich but she panics about hurting him.
“Oh my God!” Anna exclaims. “Help us! Fuck.”
She shouts for Daniel to call 911 and he sprints to do so like they’ve done drills.
We hear Daniel repeating their address as Marshall loses consciousness.
Anna holds him as she wails and prays.
Soon after, paramedics wheel Marshall out the bedroom as Anna cries on Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel watches the other paramedics work and listens to everything they say.
“His medical ID says he’s to be fed exclusively through a tube,” one paramedic says to the other, their eyes on the broken bowl and silver spoon.
Anna receives a shocking call the next day while out shopping.
Pierce’s lawyer tells Anna his client is now J.Howard’s temporary guardian.
Anna bellows in despair. Tries to call Pierce herself from a dressing room but he won’t answer.
“What have I done to deserve this?” Anna anger-whispers into her phone.
An associate tries to ring up Anna’s purchases, but her Visa is denied.
And the American Express. And the Discover.
Anna tells the shopgirl it’s probably just her business manager protecting her from fraud.
Anna has her driver speed over to the bank. She visits the teller to withdraw money.
“We’re sorry ma’am,” the teller says. “All of your accounts are temporarily frozen.”
Anna smiles, acting richer than ever.
“Oh that’s ok, there must be a misunderstanding,” Anna says.
“Would you like me to look into it further?” the teller asks.
“No, that’s alright,” Anna smiles. “Thank you so much. I’ll see you next time.”
She treads out of the bank and into her town car.
“Answer your goddamn phone Pierce, you pussy! How could you do this to my son?” Anna says into the phone. “What the fuck have I ever done to you?”
Later, Anna shows Daniel a $20 bill at the grocery store and tells him that’s all they can spend.
Daniel treats this like a game, the constraint producing fun.
Anna’s eyes seem to find the most expensive thing on every aisle.
“I always want the best of the best,” Anna tells Daniel. “It’s terrible.”
Anna visits J.Howard at the hospital the next day. He locks eyes with her but can hardly talk.
Anna complains about how Pierce treats her.
“How can I go from $50,000 a month and endless credit cards to nothing?” Anna asks. “It’s not like you guys are poor. It’s pure spite, you know?”
Of course, J.Howard can’t really respond. But that doesn’t stop Anna from trying…
Despite the hospital bed’s many cords, Anna climbs on tops of him and tosses off her top.
She swings her huge breasts until they stick to his small, sweaty face.
“Do you miss your rosebuds?” she asks him.
She grinds her hips as she pulls out a tape recorder from her skirt pocket.
“Do you promise to always take care of Daniel and me?” Anna asks, recorder in hand.
J. Howard remains unresponsive.
“Can you say what you’ve always said? About making sure me and Daniel are taken care of forever?” she asks. “And that’s what’s already in your will? Why am I living with no money?”
Anna shakes her breasts, willing him to speak.
“Come on baby, say it,” Anna pleads.
J.Howard nods, kind of like he wants to, and manages to pucker his lips into a kiss.
“Say it Paw-Paw,” Anna begs.
But it’s too late. Nurses storm in and force her off of him. She kicks as they force her out.
Miserable at home, Daniel brings Anna and the mail.
“Maybe there’s a check,” Anna hopes aloud.
She sees nothing but bills.
“Paw Paw paid my bills for years before we got married,” she tells Daniel. “So how does anyone expect me to just get used to paying them again? How?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel shrugs.
The next time Anna visits J.Howard, she gets stopped by security before she can even see him.
Security must go over the new protocol before she’s allowed entrance.
“Mr. Pierce Marshall has instituted a new order for your visitation,” security begins. “You have 30 minutes a day to spend with Mr. Marshall, supervised by both hospital staff and private security.”
In the room with her husband, Anna feels trapped between panes of glass. She doesn’t know what to say.
By the time she musters up a greeting, a “hi Paw Paw,” security barges in – 30 minutes is up. She must go. It goes on like this daily for weeks, then months. Quick, monitored, impersonal visits. J. Howard barely conscious as Anna begs him to wake up.
Anna’s in LA for the 1995 Academy Awards parties. She arrives to the Vanity Fair party at Morton’s with a date whose not her husband. In a black, rhinestone-encrusted gown, Anna glows. Eager to make everyone love her. She’s visibly lit though. A little drunk and very high. She doesn’t stumble but she surely sways. Other celebrities stop briefly and skip large chunks of the press line. Not Anna.
Anna makes sure she shouts out J.Howard on every inch of the red carpet. She lays it on thick.
“Hello to my husband! I told you to watch TV tonight! Muah!” Anna says into the camera.
Anna enters the room and sees famous faces: Oprah Winfrey telling Barbara Walters she’s her heroine, a young Leonardo DiCaprio hugging Sharon Stone, Herb Ritts chatting up Courtney Love in her white silk dress and crown. She freezes up with nerves.
Anna overcompensates by proceeding right to the bar for a shot. Shots, really.
“We don’t serve shots,” the bartender admits. “Can I put a little soda in that for you?”
“Sure,” Anna smiles. “Give me four.”
During the seated dinner, Anna tries to cut the line in the ladies room. Unable to hold it together, she pisses her pants and vomits right there in line.
We pan up to reveal the woman whose barely missed Anna’s trail of vomit. It’s Dolly Parton. Stunned but kind.
Anna washes her mouth out and returns to the party. Somehow, throwing up has made her more confident, not less. She feels lighter.
Hungover the next day, Anna lounges in the passenger seat of B-movie director Ray Martino’s clunker. They sit in LAX traffic. Anna picks up her publicist’s call.
“I told them the Dolly story was totally baseless,” the publicist says. “But everyone knows you were fucked up beyond belief. You can see it in every picture.”
“At least nobody could tell I peed myself,” Anna remarks. “It’s been a stressful time.”
Anna’s headache worsens with each honk. She hangs up.
Back in Houston, April showers storm outside.
Anna receives a call from J.Howard’s other son, the elder one and namesake - the one already on the outs - J. Howard III.
“Is my brother screwing you too?” J. Howard III asks.
“Well, yeah,” Anna says into the phone.
“How much do you know about my situation with my father?” he asks. “And business?”
“Not so much,” Anna says. “Isn’t everything better now?”
“Exactly,” Howard III says. “But someone won’t accept that. Can you guess who?”
Soon after, Anna and J. Howard III are in court together in Houston.
Together, their lawyers bring forth a tortious interference case against Pierce.
Tortious interference is intentional contract interference. Someone messes with another's business dealing, causing them to suffer economic harm. This is what Anna and Howard Marshall accuse Pierce of doing with J. Howard's estate. They accuse Pierce of excluding both of them from the will despite J. Howard's wishes.
(This marks the beginning of Marshall v. Marshall, a court case that will endure longer than J.Howard, Anna and Pierce’s respective lives. The case is so complicated that the trial won’t begin for years. You will experience it in future chapters. It will reach the Supreme Court.)
Back at J.Howard’s bedside, unsupervised for once, Anna describes her work trip to NYC.
She asks him to stay strong and promises she’ll be back by his side soon.
“I’ll miss you,” Anna says as she looks back at him.
In New York, Anna goes on the Howard Stern radio show for the first time.
She looks fresh, blonde and beautiful, but acts a bit slow, spacey and stoned.
Stern asks her questions about pop culture current events, the OJ trial included.
“No, I don’t think he’s guilty,” Anna purrs. “I don’t believe anything people say anymore.”
Stern threatens to show Anna his small penis and she waits for it. He chickens out.
Stern stares at her beautiful features but can’t help but wonder…
“Did you take something before the show?” he asks.
Anna shakes her head “No,” kind of mad.
“Are you sure you aren’t stoned or something?” he asks.
“I’m positive,” Anna stammers.
Just a few days later, on set modeling, Anna gets a call that brings her to her knees --
Marshall passed away due to complications with pneumonia and stomach cancer.
Anna drops the phone and shrieks from her core.
She convulses in a fit.
“I wasn’t even by his side,” Anna screams. “That’s all he wanted! To die next to me!”
“We’ve got nobody now!” Anna wails. “Nobody!”
“I love you Paw-Paw!” Anna shrieks. “I can’t live without you! I won’t!”
She bangs her body against the ground until her publicist drags her into a cab. Goes crazy.
She admits herself into a hospital where she stays overnight on a psychiatric hold.
Back in Houston, Anna and Pierce meet in court to decide on funeral arrangements. As divided as ever.
The judge orders Marshall’s ashes to be divided between the two of them.
The mortician funnels Marshall’s ashes into two elaborate urns and hands one to Pierce and one to Anna.
The funeral Anna plans happens first, of course. The ceremony is entirely candlelit. Romantic. None of Marshall’s family is there, just Anna’s friends.
Anna wears a white bridal dress to the funeral and her actual wedding veil.
A white pearl rosary nestles between her breasts.
Daniel wears a white tuxedo and carries his tiny, black dog.
Anna consults with the pastor at the lectern before it begins, illuminated by the candles.
A glittery banner over the casket reads: FROM YOUR LADY LOVE.
Two white teddy bears labeled as Mr. and Mrs. J. Howard Marshall II hold court atop the casket.
As the service begins, Anna attempts to read from the Bible but can’t. She only says one line:
“The swords of the just are in the hands of God.”
Her whole body weeps.
The pastor asks the congregation if anyone would like to speak.
Anna’s lawyer rises to comment. She speaks of the great love she witnessed between Anna and Marshall. She’s the only one to comment. Most people in the room can feel how odd that is.
A titan of business and icon in the oil industry and Houston community at large, Marshall could have been eulogized by a lot of people. But instead, it was a single speech. From Mrs. Cleavage’s lawyer.
It’s Anna’s turn to perform next. She climbs up the stage with Daniel at her side. They breathe deep in a preparatory prayer and begin a duet of the Bette Midler hit “Wind Beneath My Wings.”
“You were content to let me shine, that's your way / You always walked a step behind / So, I was the one with all the glory / While you were the one with all the strength,” they sing together.
The performance is as sad as it is odd. The applause is tepid when it ends.
Anna and Daniel take their seats and rejoin everyone in prayer. But Anna can’t take it… Her body crawls with anxiety like there are spiders under her skin. She sprints down the aisle.
When she swings open the church doors, the bird guy releases hundreds of white doves. She collapses on the steps and sobs. The lovebirds circle above her as she cries. All alone.
OUTRAGEOUS