Stahl creates an ingenious structure: Fatty is unreeling his life into a tape recorder in exchange for the shots of heroin he craves. And what a tale it is! Stahl's a fabulous writer, tunneling deep into Fatty's mind, creating a richly sympathetic voice that veers from wisecracks to woe, all brilliantly illuminating the humanity behind the clown mask, and revealing a man starving for love. We see Fatty growing up, abused by the father he's desperate to please. There are snappy you-are-there profiles of the Keystone Cops and of Fatty's comrades Buster Keaton, Douglas Fairbanks, and Charlie Chaplin. Arbuckle shows us how he became a star of family entertainment, beloved by fans, and adored by women, whom he can't quite adore back because of one secret -- he's impotent.
Hollywood in its heyday meant wild parties, throwaway wealth, and everyone doing what they damn well pleased, which of course meant the morality police made an entrance. Suddenly girls in risqu bathing suits were crowded into paddy wagons and Prohibition was corking all the champagne. Hollywood was Sin City, and clearly someone had to pay.
And who better than Fatty? He was a movie star, rich, powerful, and larger than life. A party was in full swing at his hotel, and Rappe, a known ''blackout drinker" who was given to screaming and tearing off her clothes when drunk, crashed it. Fatty found her vomiting in his bathroom and set her on his bed, hovering over her to clean her up, rouse her, and get her out of there. Opportunity -- or rather Maude Delmont, ''a bad bag of applesauce" known for blackmail and extortion -- knocked, screamed, and accused impotent Fatty of rape. Four days later, Rappe was dead of a ruptured bladder, and Fatty was put on trial for her murder.
