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I probably saw a great deal more of Samson than I usually would after he invited Kenneth Anger to rent his front house, remarking with some authority that he would “certainly live to regret it.” The main house was large enough to accommodate Kenneth’s ever- growing collection of movie memorabilia, not to mention books, tapes, antiques and costumes for works in progress. Kenneth was flushed with money at the time, not a good sign as he always prided himself on being a spendthrift and he made good on that, believe you me. No sooner had he moved in than he began major redecorating. First he repainted all the rooms different colors, just like the rooms in Poe’s “Masque of the Red Death.” The carpets were midnight blue and he meticulously glued gold and silver stars and planets to the ceiling, completing the effect with expert lighting as only a film director could. After dedicating a room to his first love, Rudolph Valentino, Ken was ready to rock… Now that Kenneth had his pleasure dome installed, all he needed was a Lucifer to share it with, so within two months Kenneth found a likely lad in a hunky 22-year-old ex- marine with a knack for dealing drugs, who moved in for the duration. The happy couple then purchased an expensive dog whose breed I just can’t remember anymore; needless to say it was exotic. Within weeks of all this domestic bliss, Kenneth had two major problems on his hands. Number one was his racism. Having gone unchecked in New York, it was in full flood in LA, and he soon found himself a prisoner in that house after dark as he pissed off a Latino gang that shot his dog and then trashed the front porch. This of course worried Samson to distraction, not that he felt any differently than Kenneth, he just never let his true feeling be known, especially in a neighborhood that was already by then (1988) over half Latino. The next bit of bad news involved his companion the ex-marine, who was caught selling drugs across from Hollywood High school and arrested. Fortunately I knew this gay attorney, Harry Weiss, whom we all met on the set of SEXTETTE with Mae West. Mr. Weiss was a legend in West Hollywood gay life as a “self-styled sultan with his own private harem of studs”. When he was not an attorney to the “stars” he was always on the prowl for a good time. Harry did his best and finally the kid got let out of jail and promptly moved back to the Midwest. All of this drama took its toll on Kenneth and within six month he, too, moved out of the house he had spent thousands of dollars redecorating, leaving Samson to moan about how “absolutely no one will rent this place now.” This incident put a strain on the long relationship between these two men that lasted almost until Samson’s death.

It is amazing to me how so many intelligent people throughout my time in Hollywood could never SEE beyond the superficial when it came to someone like Samson De Brier. For example one of the most noteworthy things about Samson and his legacy were the celebrity salons that made his reputation. The house where so many glorious salons were held was now not unlike the banquet hall where Miss Haversham was to have her wedding dinner a ruin.

I can still see his shack now (since he never lived in the front house which he rented out). The back house was like a shack in some backward part of the Ozarks, the porch filled with old newspapers and junk piled high, with no sign of getting smaller anytime soon. The Kitchen was the filthiest I think I have ever seen, with a sink so filled with mire that the idea that Samson actually still prepared meals there was simply inconceivable to me. Samson was sometimes referred to in the LA press as “The American version of Quentin Crisp.” What a blasphemy is all I can say, since gay rights would mean nothing to someone as self-centered and out of touch as Samson. Crisp was a brilliant personality, a gay icon the likes of which we will most likely never see again. Samson De Brier was in comparison not a man who ever allowed his sexuality to get in his way, nor did he really stand for anything other than self-indulgence. His only virtues were his imagination and his ability to see genius in other people. Samson De Brier would never be a martyr to Gay Rights, on that you can depend.

I always loved the story my friend Richard Lamparski told me about a meeting he had worked out for Samson to come face to face with his so-called counterpart when Crisp was in Los Angeles doing his one man show, and was more than gracious in making time in his schedule to go out to Sam’s house and have tea. Well, when the day arrived and they made the pilgrimage to Sam’s, he was nowhere to be found. Samson could not bring himself to meet the real deal when it appeared at his front door. Samson had lived a lifetime pretending to be famous and eccentric, yet he knew in his heart of hearts he was no Quentin Crisp.

Samson kept a daily diary, all recorded in that spidery script of his, and I am sure if one were to begin to read it in earnest it would not be unlike reading Warhol’s diary, filled with nasty observations about people who thought they were his friends. When Samson was still living he always bragged about its publication, but this was never to be, and perhaps it is for the best although it might have shed some light, however fabricated, on just who this man thought he was. Steven Arnold was another artist who fell under the spell of La Perversa. I can recall vividly how Steven would sit at Samson’s feet in that crowded, dust-filled parlor with two lamps doing their best with 40 watt bulbs, as Samson read from his favorite passages of the diary. This would of course be the Parisian section from the early twenties, filled with references to a love affair between De Brier and Andre Gide, who died in 1951. There is no proof such a relationship existed outside of this diary, so once again time works against the truth. I do believe he knew the tragic Ramon Navarro, since he was around Hollywood during the same time as Ramon. Whether he also knew the two hustlers who killed him we will never really know. I always wondered why Kenneth never quoted Samson in any of his books on Hollywood as he surely must have known some tidbits that would be of interest to the infamous author of two editions of ‘Hollywood Babylon.’

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