headlines as the thrice-married actress seeks to make my father husband number four. The press turns their affair into a carnival; the two lovers are unable to even go out of town in order to retain some semblance of privacy. Finally, in October 1952, they call off plans to marry, although three months later Lana goes ahead and divorces her then-husband, wealthy sportsman Bob Topping, when rumors resurface that my father and she still might wed.
While on loan to Paramount in 1953 to star in Sangaree, a 3-D Technicolor drama for Pine-Thomas Studios, Dad meets his match. He falls in love with his luscious, flaming redheaded costar: my mom, Arlene Dahl. He is immediately attracted to her “softness,” the thing he looks for most in a woman. Mom possesses that quality and more, and the fact that her father has raised her with that same old-world philosophy about women makes them a perfect match.
Mom is a Minneapolis native of Norwegian descent who worked various jobs through high school and was active in local theater groups before embarking on a show-business career. After starring on Broadway and in two features for Warner Bros., she finds her greatest success at MGM, just like my father. She costars as the female love interest in many successful feature films for the studio, including The Bride Goes Wild (1948) with Van Johnson and Three Little Words (1950) with Fred Astaire.
Mom becomes Dad’s steady the same year MGM loans them out to costar in their second Pine-Thomas Studios film together, the independent romantic adventure for Melson Pictures Corp., The Diamond Queen. At the same time, my father is seeking his release from his MGM contract after more than four years in the studio’s service. Dad and Arlene are the talk of the town and are treated like Hollywood royalty everywhere they go. Their union does create quite a stir with the media because Mom is not yet divorced from her first husband, actor Lex Barker (who, after divorcing Mom, dates Lana Turner, the woman Dad almost married), and because Father is eleven years her senior.
Their relationship is contentious and rocky during their two-year courtship and even after I am born, as evident in this exchange with a reporter during a November 1953 interview:
“How about some pictures kissing her?” the photographer says to the reporter.
In no mood to act lovey-dovey, Mom, exhausted from her stage performance the night before with José Ferrer in Cyrano de Bergerac, turns away from Dad, who smooches her on the cheek and announces, “The patient will live!”
After considerable coaxing, Mom eventually complies after the reporter asks her, “What plans have you after this show?”
“I guess to get a good rest.”
“Might as well quit fooling around,” the reporter adds. “Do you two have any plans to get married?”
“You’ll be the first one to know it,” Dad says with an unctuous grin.
“Aw, tell her first,” the reporter jokes.
The reporter excuses himself and pulls Dad outside. He asks him the same marriage plans question privately.
Dad says, “We may. We’re thinking it over carefully.”
“Are you free to marry?” the reporter asks.
“Of course. Since October!”
The reporter cracks a smile. “Sorry, but I can’t keep up with you guys.”
“Wait a minute!” Dad says seriously. “One marriage and one divorce ain’t bad! We’ll let you know.”
On June 25, 1954, after deciding they cannot live without each other, they quickly marry in a simple ceremony at the Last Frontier Hotel’s Little Church of the West. Former tennis champion Gene Mako and his wife, Laura (“Larry”), serve as best man and matron of honor.
My parents move into a palatial spread in Bel Air, the same place I briefly call home after coming into this world on January 20, 1958. When Mom goes into labor, Dad is doing what any good actor does: He is working to provide for his family. He is in the middle of rehearsing for NBC’s Jane Wyman Theater (yes, the same Jane Wyman I would costar with years later on Falcon Crest), which is broadcasting live that night, when the hospital calls to tell him, “Mr. Lamas, your wife is about to give birth.”
Like most fathers, Dad always wanted a son. After receiving the news, he sprints from the set despite Jane protesting, “It’s almost show time and we have no second act.”
Turning to her as he runs past her, my father famously hollers, “My son is about to be born. I’m not missing it for anything.”
On April 10, 1958, my parents baptize me at the Church of Religious Science in Hollywood. Laura Mako is my godmother; architect William Pereira is my godfather. Dr. Ernest Holmes, the church’s founder, also attends; Dr. William Hornaday conducts the baptismal ceremony.
My early years are not always easy and happy. I never enjoy the standard Hollywood childhood most second-generation kids of celebrity parents do. In mid-February 1959, a month after my first birthday, Father is suddenly out of the picture when Mom sues him for divorce, claiming she has “lost all contact” with him. After a brief separation, they try to make the marriage work again. On the surface, it appears it is.
But even though my parents share a zest for life, they are polar opposites. Mom is a reserved yet fastidious overachiever; Dad is a gregarious and proud macho man. Mom dresses me impeccably in ruffled shirts and velvet pants; Father talks to and treats me like a little adult.
I come to revere and idolize my father as he whisks me off with him in his sporty Alfa Romeo convertible with the top down, taking me almost everywhere, including to meetings he has in Hollywood. He props me up on a chair, and I listen quietly to him and all these grown-ups talk about the business in my presence as if I am one of the guys. In reality, I am just a two-year-old, wet-behind-the-ears, snot-nosed kid who still pisses in his pants and has no idea what in the hell they are talking about.
Occasionally I also accompany Dad to the sets and locations for productions he is filming. Going to the studio is so surreal and magical. It is like watching a group of adults play dress-up like it’s a real-life Mickey Rooney–Judy Garland Andy Hardy movie unfolding before my eyes. The sets are built and the cast members are in their costumes and makeup, ready to put on the “big show” and help save Farmer Tom from losing his farm.
Even then, I never quite understand what my father does for a living. He rarely talks about acting or moviemaking to me when driving us to the studios. Instead, he is like some kind of wise man on the mountaintop. He readily dispenses his wisdom to me on just about anything and everything, even though I am far too young to understand most of what he is saying. With the bravado that made him famous as an actor, he starts the same way every time: “Lorenzo, you’ll be happy someday; I’m telling you this,” and thrusts his forefinger into the air as if he is acting in a serious melodrama. I become a fast learner in the art of nodding.
I never knew then as I would later that Dad is the kind of person who always puts a positive spin on things. It is his nature. In June 1960, an Associated Press reporter sits down to interview my father and asks him to comment on his marriage to my mom. He famously proclaims that although it has had its share of rough sailing, their marriage is “succeeding” because “too many people in Hollywood forget that they are men and women first, and actors second. They bring their roles home from the studio and try to live them at home. A man is a man and a woman is a woman. No matter if he wins an Academy Award, it means nothing if he does not have understanding at home.”
Father adds, “Women especially are emotional. That is their nature. An actress deals in emotions in her work. If she continues playing the part at home, the result is chaos. Man was meant to be dominant. When an actress’s career zooms higher than her actor husband’s, it is an impossible situation. Soon she starts paying the bills. He cannot stand by and retain his self-respect.”
Because they are in step with the societal norms of the time, including male superiority in the household, Father and Mom have a very traditional marriage. As head of the household, he sets ground rules from the first day. He pays all the bills and lets Mom do whatever