Ties to the Kremlin? Cannibalism? Getting away with murder? The Hammer
family's unraveling began with leaked texts, but that was just the beginning.
Starting out, the public's scourging of actor Armie Hammer mostly focused on his uncomfortable
sexual fetishes and how it tarnished his Ken doll image. But the accusations grew darker;
women alleged that he was abusive and manipulative. Vanity Fair reported that one
woman said he carved his initials into her pelvis and another woman said she felt scared by him.
His career began to deteriorate. He was replaced on a Jennifer Lopez-led romantic comedy,
forced out of a Paramount Plus series about the making of The Godfather,
and the producers of the already-shot Death on the Nile had trouble promoting
the film and working around Hammer's scenes, according to IndieWire.
But the story didn't start there. News of his dysfunctional family has come to light in the
months since, leading to the conclusion that Armie learned his misbehavior from somewhere.
Heading the exposure of her family's secrets and corruption is Casey Hammer,
Armie's estranged aunt, in the upcoming Discovery+ series "House of Hammer.
"My name is Casey Hammer, and I'm about to reveal the dark, twisted secrets of the Hammer family."
The Hammer family's roots in America are traced back to Julius Hammer, an immigrant from Russia
who ran a business called Allied Drug in New York. Julius Hammer named his son Armand after
the arm-and-hammer symbol of the Socialist Labor Party. He was a founder of the American Communist
Labor Party and one of the major reasons why Armand later rubbed elbows with Vladimir Lenin
and Leonid Brezhnev, according to The New York Times. Julius helped the Soviet Union procure
necessary supplies from the United States in light of embargos. When he was arrested for performing
an abortion in which the patient later died, Armand took over and became the first in command.
He was the main actor for Soviet concessions, allowing him to mine asbestos in the Soviet Union
while he persuaded American companies to invest in the country. He also saved the
Soviet's food industries by shipping them beef and phosphoric acid — which was used in agriculture.
His relationship with the Soviet Union dwindled when Joseph Stalin took over,
despite Lenin's personal appeals to Stalin to trust in Hammer, the Times reported.
But their ties were strengthened once again when Leonid Brezhnev was in power,
and it was around that time that the Kremlin wanted their guy as the American
ambassador to the Soviet Union. Unsurprisingly, the request was denied by the White House.
In 1972, Armand Hammer donated $54,000 to President Richard Nixon's re-election campaign.
This is hardly news in the world of politics and money,
except that Hammer donated the funds under someone else's name, an action that was made illegal that
same year. He delivered the money anonymously through former Montana governor Tim Babcock,
who ended up being fined $1,000. Hammer managed to escape a prison sentence because of health reasons
but was given probation and a dent in his already questionable reputation.
For 13 years, Hammer lobbied the White House to clear his name.
Ronald Reagan, whose administration side-eyed Hammer's Soviet connections, snubbed him.
He was finally pardoned by President George H.W. Bush in 1989. Responses to the action were mixed.
For one, the pardon came after Hammer donated more than $100,000 to Bush and
the Republican Party. But it also didn't help that Hammer's crime was embedded in
one of the most infamous crimes in American politics: Watergate.
"His resignation as the 37th president of the United States takes effect at noon today."
According to the New York Times, Hammer's unfortunately timed donation
came at a fortunate time for the Nixon campaign,
and it's safe to assume the money was used towards the DNC break-in.
Armand Hammer prided himself on being an advocate for world peace as he tried to establish trade
relations between the United States and the Soviet Union. He earned respect from Vladimir Lenin,
who personally called him for help when the Soviet economy became sluggish and told Stalin that a
24-year-old Hammer was someone worth supporting, the Times reported. But the Soviets weren't the
only leaders Hammer wasn't afraid of mingling with. In Libya, he sought after Libyan politicians
and paid for their children's college tuition. Coincidentally, his oil company Occidental won
the country's bid for drilling oil over several other competitors. He also once gifted the
president of Venezuela a bronze statue of Simon Bolivar. But Hammer's influential friendships
extended to Buckingham Palace, specifically Prince Charles. Beginning in the 1970s, Hammer tried to
curry favor with the prince by spending more than $40 million on the royal's favorite charities,
according to the Sydney Morning Herald. Hammer's special treatment reached even Princess Diana as
he flew the both of them on his private jet. The bootlicking must have worked;
Prince Charles nearly named Hammer godfather to Prince William, according to The Guardian.
Occidental Petroleum, the oil giant Armand Hammer chaired until his death in 1990,
was once responsible for the world's worst offshore oil disasters.
The oil platform, Piper Alpha, suffered a leak, leading to an explosion and fire. It resulted
in a mass casualty — of the 226 people working on the platform, 167 people died.
"It's now clear the explosion that ripped
a north sea platform apart was the world's worst oil field disaster."
But communications errors didn't leave Occidental off the hook. The company's safety model was
criticized when it was found to have placed the gas compression units, the source of the leak,
next to an area where people regularly worked. Despite calls to bring Piper
Alpha operators to justice, Occidental didn't receive criminal penalties and paid out $100
million to families of victims. Hammer released a statement, saying he was shocked and grieved.
He personally visited Aberdeen, Scotland, the city nearest Piper Alpha.
A scandalous family history wouldn't be complete without murder. This vice comes courtesy of Armand
Hammer's least favorite heir, Julian Hammer. The incident occurred in 1955 at Julian's birthday
party. The 26-year-old Julian was having an argument with a man named Bruce Whitlock,
a military veteran. They had known each other for 10 years and had once lived together. It was
around this time that one of the two men fell into the other's debt and owed $200. Although it was a
meager amount compared to what Julian had access to, the old gambling debt was brought up again
during the argument and was suddenly doubled to $400 after a coin toss to decide the debt's fate.
Julian shot Whitlock with a .45-caliber revolver.
He told police it was done in self-defense after Whitlock threatened him with a beer
bottle. He cited inappropriate behavior toward his wife as another provocation.
Julian was charged and arraigned, but he didn't need to worry long. Daddy Hammer
came to the rescue and paid a lawyer $50,000 in cash. The charges were eventually dismissed.
The scene at Armand Hammer's will reading was like something out of Succession
combined with Knives Out. Many hapless members of the Hammer family trickled into a Los
Angeles lawyer's office, thinking that the Hammer patriarch left them millions of dollars.
After all, shortly before his death, he had an estimated net worth of $180 million.
But when the will was finally read, all hell broke loose. Armand only left behind
$40 million and shortchanged many members of his family, friends, and charities.
The lawsuits flew in, more than 100 of them. They weren't just from spurned family members.
They were also from companies and foundations who never received payments for their services.
And Armand's mistress, Hilary Gibson, learned she received nothing even after 10 years of
fulfilling his strange demands. She traveled all the way to Switzerland to snatch documentation
that proved Armand's previous promises to her and used it against the Armand estate in her lawsuit.
Armand Hammer had been running the historic New York Knoedler Gallery since 1971,
and when he died in 1990, Michael Hammer took over. But after one client, hedge fund manager
Pierre Lagrange, found that he couldn't resell his Jackson Pollock painting at an auction house,
he sued the gallery. The gallery closed consequently in 2011. Lagrange wasn't the
only victim of fraudulent artwork; 30 such fake paintings, all Abstract Expressionist pieces,
were sold by the gallery between 1994 and 2009.
"An $80 million scandal that has the art world up in arms tonight."
In 2015, Hammer settled three lawsuits involving fake Mark Rothko paintings sold more than a decade
earlier. It's easy to assume that Hammer himself was duped; the fakes came from a fraudulent art
dealer, Glafira Rosales, who was using artwork made by a Chinese immigrant living in Queens.
But the gallery and its director, Ann Freedman, continued to do business with the Rosales even
after her claims on the paintings' histories proved to be untrustworthy.
And Hammer didn't help his own case by personally profiting off of the gallery's parent company,
8-31 Holdings, making him liable to charges of fraud. At one point, he used $2 million of
the company's finances to purchase seven luxury cars, according to ArtNet News.
It's not enough to say that the Hammer men aren't the type of men you'd want
your daughters to marry. Some of the actions Armand, Julian, and Armie have committed border
on being abusive — or are just plain abusive. Armand Hammer was a serial philanderer and had
several mistresses and illegitimate children who came out of the woodwork to claim inheritances,
according to the Washington Post. Armand made promises he didn't keep,
and they were left without a penny. One of his mistresses, Hilary Gibson, had to change her
identity for him and was forced to perform sexual acts she found degrading, Vanity Fair reported.
His son, Julian Hammer, was accused by his own daughter of sexually abusing her. In her book,
Surviving My Birthright, Casey Hammer also alleges that he mistreated various members of the family.
And then there was Armie Hammer. In early 2021,
the Instagram account "House of Effie" began posting private screenshots of his messages
that depicted him fantasizing about cannibalism, mutilation, and enslavement of his sex partners.
"My bed was going to involve showing up at your place
and completely tying you up and incapacitating you."
He also posted salacious content to his private Instagram account with footage of scantily-clad
women. Most alarming was an allegation of rape made by a former lover, resulting in a
LAPD investigation, although TMZ reported that it was unlikely that Armie would get charged.
Armie Hammer's fall from grace has been like nothing we've seen before. Once a venerable actor
who starred in the Academy Award-winning film The Social Network and delivered lines alongside
Leonardo DiCaprio in J. Edgar, Variety recently reported that he was working as a timeshares
salesman. Yes, that's right — An unnamed source told Variety that he has been short on cash
and once managed an apartment complex before selling timeshares. Quotes from his lawyer,
Andrew Brettler, aren't more reassuring. When asked if his client was working a regular job,
Brettler said he didn't know and chastised the media for making fun of his financial state.
By all accounts, he's been cut off by the Hammers and is expected to fend for himself.
Growing up, he felt the pressures of his family name and was expected to uphold a certain image,
so when private messages of his were posted online and he was accused of rape,
he was all but excommunicated.
"I'm just closing my eyes until it ended."
Casey is the daughter of Julian Hammer, Armand's first-born son. She thought she would receive
millions of dollars in inheritance upon Armand's death due to personal
reassurances from the man himself, according to the Washington Post. But when the moment came,
Casey saw only $250,000 while her father was equally snubbed. She sued her brother,
Michael, who now controlled the estate, and settled for an estimated $1.4 million.
While her grandfather's mistress received nearly four times her settlement in another lawsuit,
Casey works as a kitchen designer in a Home Depot, according to Vanity Fair.
She was able to stretch out the $1.4 million over the course of 18 years and now struggles
for money. But lately she has come out in public to speak about her dysfunctional family and its
various transgressions. In her 2015 book Surviving My Birthright, she accused her
father of sexually assaulting her. And in 2021, she signed a deal with a production company to
shed light on her family's drama and abuse for the upcoming documentary multi-episode series
House of Hammer.