Richard Arlen’s story is a wild ride, honestly. He kicked things off as a pilot in the Royal Canadian Flying Corps during World War I, but he never actually saw any combat. After the war, he just sort of drifted—like a lot of folks did back then—and somehow ended up in LA. He landed a gig as a motorcycle messenger at a film lab, which sounds pretty random, but fate had other plans. He wiped out on his bike right at the gates of Paramount, broke his leg, and—get this—the studio took care of him. Turns out, they liked the look of him, tossed him a contract, and just like that, he was in the movies. He started out as an extra in 1925, but didn’t exactly blow people away with his acting chops. Still, he kept at it. The real turning point? William A. Wellman cast him in the silent epic Wings (1927), where he played a pilot alongside Charles 'Buddy' Rogers and Clara Bow. That movie snagged the first-ever Oscar for Best Picture, and Arlen found his niche playing the tough, cynical hero. He worked with Wellman on a few more films and even shared scenes with a young Gary Cooper, who’d later be the star while Arlen took supporting roles. Arlen made the leap to talkies without much fuss, but his career kind of sputtered along, bouncing between studios and B-movies. By the late '30s and '40s, action flicks and war stories were his bread and butter, but hearing loss almost ended things for him. Surgery brought him back in 1949, and he kept at it—westerns, adventures, even TV and commercials. He finally stepped back in the late '60s, but a few last roles sneaked in before he passed away.
So this guy, before he became anything big, actually flew fighter planes during World War I—yeah, with the Royal Canadian Flying Corps. He wasn’t just hanging around on the sidelines, either. He got thrown right into the mess of it, soaring above the trenches, dodging bullets, and pulling all those wild aerial stunts that make you wonder if he was a little bit nuts or just really gutsy. Those early dogfights in those rickety planes? Sketchy as heck, but he pulled through. Flying back then wasn’t some glamorous gig; you basically had to be part daredevil, part mechanic, and a bit lucky if you wanted to make it back down in one piece. Kind of wild to think about, honestly. All that chaos and adrenaline probably shaped the way he handled things later on—kept his cool, stayed sharp, and maybe, just maybe, picked up a taste for adventure that never really faded.
September 1, 1899
5′ 11½″ (1.82 m)
Konidela Ram Charan
St. Paul, Minnesota, USA
Yes, Richard Arlen Jr.
125 years old