THE rich, the famous, the stars, the beautiful people. Sooner or later, they all kick the bucket.
And it's not too surprising that so many of those who lived a rumbustious life that far exceeded the studio publicity machine's wildest dreams, should have died in circumstances as macabre as any of their movies.
Suicide, murder, ''accidents'', disease - all claimed their victims with no respect for fame or fortune. Penniless or fabulously wealthy, ravaged by illness or in the bloom of youth, the final casting call gathered up them all.
And on one of the most bizarre tours available in the utterly bizarre metropolis of Hollywood, they're all on stage again for a last bow.
''Director of Undertakings'' Matthew (Maffew) Anderson parades a cheeky Cockney accent that strikes just the right irreverent tone as he chauffeurs the metallic grey 1968 Cadillac Hearse along Hollywood Boulevard, at the start of a two hour jaunt which might be titled ''The Day of the Living Dead.'' Started by a former embalmer, Grave Line Tours goes one better than those which peek over the garden gates' of the homes of stars who are still flesh and blood. It satisfies that inner yearning to prove that the screen legends and demigods were human after all.
And it is also a good starting point for any visitor to Los Angeles who wants to set the city in context. Style triumphs over substance here, you are only as good as your last picture, and nobody lasts forever.
