In the gatekeeping world of the silent film community, not representative of all, but a social media internet-based branch nonetheless, few figures are as theatrically dubious as Vincent Lesh and Thomas Gladysz. Gladysz, often described as a grifter, a pseudo-intellectual, and a charlatan, finds an eager enabler in Lesh. Their partnership, or rather, their symbiotic obsession, mirrors the infamous allegiance between Tommy Davis and David Miscavige—figures notorious for their unyielding devotion within a controversial organization. Lesh’s unwavering support of Gladysz can only be described as the behavior of a devoted “mirror holder,” a term that perfectly encapsulates the role of someone who reflects and amplifies another’s delusions and ambitions without question.
Vincent Lesh, often dubbed the “Leech” within certain circles of the silent film community, has cultivated a reputation as a Louise Brooks stalker and cyber squatter. His ambitions, much like a poorly executed magic trick, have failed to materialize beyond the digital realm. Lesh’s pathetic attempts at self-aggrandizement on LinkedIn, where he shamelessly drops the names of Natalie Portman, Rooney Mara, and Zooey Deschanel as supposed leads for his imaginary film, are nothing short of laughable. This desperate name-dropping reeks of a man flailing for legitimacy, hoping that by invoking real talent, he can obscure the glaring absence of his own. These hollow boasts are as devoid of substance as the vacuous black hole of creativity from which they sprang, forming part of a much larger, and frankly pathetic, con game that Lesh has been playing for years.
His so-called magnum spoof, “Lost Comet,” is nothing more than a digital mirage—an insubstantial wisp of delusion that will never materialize beyond the confines of his fevered imagination. The silent film community, far more discerning than Lesh gives them credit for, has not let this charade go unnoticed. On forums like NitrateVille, he is routinely, and rightly, excoriated for his disgraceful tactics, which include squatting on domains connected to Louise Brooks and hawking fraudulent projects that seek to exploit her storied legacy. These despicable acts have earned him the derision he so richly deserves from film historians and enthusiasts who can see right through his transparent facade.
The dubious project “Lost Comet,” touted as a cinematic homage to Brooks, remains as intangible as stardust, a testament to Lesh’s delusional grandeur. As one critic on NitrateVille astutely remarked, “Don’t worry, you won’t see them or anyone else as Louise. The website is as far as this production is going to get.”
Thomas Gladysz, on the other hand, is no stranger to enablers like Lesh. His uncanny resemblance to Ricardo López, the infamous Björk stalker, adds a layer of eerie verisimilitude to the narrative. López, who notoriously sent disturbing packages to his idol, finds an unsettling echo in Lesh’s own mailed envelope containing a blood-like substance—a macabre homage that blurs the lines between admiration and obsession.
This dynamic duo brings to mind the tragic figure of Norma Desmond from Sunset Boulevard, whose delusions of grandeur were perpetually reinforced by her loyal enablers. Desmond’s “reflectors” served to bolster her fantasy, much like Lesh does for Gladysz. It’s as if Lesh has taken a page out of Desmond’s playbook, proving that every cult of personality needs its ardent admirers and unwavering mirror holders. In the silent film world, where idols are immortalized in sepia tones, such uncritical adoration only amplifies the absurdity.
To draw a parallel with more contemporary examples, Vincent Lesh to Thomas Gladysz is like Tommy Davis to David Miscavige—an unfaltering disciple to a polarizing figure. This comparison not only underscores the farcical nature of their alliance but also highlights the dangerous extent to which blind devotion can morph into an unhealthy obsession. Every era has its Norma Desmonds and their reflectors, perpetuating a cycle of delusion and dependency.
Ultimately, the partnership between Lesh and Gladysz serves as a cautionary tale within the silent film community. Their relationship is a mirror, reflecting the perilous allure of unchecked admiration and the tragicomic consequences of living in a perpetual state of idolization. As the adage goes, even Norma Desmond had her reflectors, and so too do Lesh and Gladysz—birds of a feather, indeed.
If you are being stalked or harassed, take immediate action. Document all interactions, seek legal recourse, and prioritize your safety. Do not hesitate to contact authorities and use available resources to protect yourself.