New Year's Letter: A Bit of Heaven in '11

I love those newsletters that people sometimes send with their Christmas cards each year, but most folks make fun of them, at least in my experience.  So, I don't ever send one (the fact that my Christmas cards always feature a picture of myself is cause for enough ridicule).  But perhaps I can duck all that ridicule by, instead, writing a newsy New Year's Note.

2011 was one of my better years in recent memory, though it began with absolutely nothing positive on the horizon.  On January 1st, I had no jobs lined up, and no prospects. 

All that changed at the end of the month, when somebody dropped out of the Olney Theatre's production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, after one rehearsal.  I was working the front desk at our annual local Equity auditions when the casting director, the lovely and talented Brad Watkins, grabbed me by the arm and said, "Get your Equity ass to my theatre at 2:00, you're hired."  I started rehearsal that very day, and had a blast playing dual roles.  Wearing a skanky beard which completely covered my face, I played Joseph's father, Jacob, and in another sequence, I enjoyed a little song-and-dance as Potiphar, a rich Egyptian.

By the time we finished the run, nobody in Joe's Coat  even remembered that I was a replacement.  I was surrounded by some of the strongest singer/dancer/actors in the DC area;  the cast was littered with Helen Hayes winners and nominees, all of them playing one of my sons or one of my wives. 

I really loved the concept of this production (the show itself is not one of my favorites), but more, I was grateful to get the opportunity to work with this big group of talent.

That same audition during which I so unexpectedly snagged the gig at Olney Theatre, I was approached by the artistic director of Wayside Theatre, the lovely and talented Warner Crocker.  "Do you know the play The Nerd?" he asked.  I did not, but he urged me to read it, with an eye to playing a role in his upcoming production.

Several weeks later, I was spending the day as an extra on a big-budget film which was blowing through town (I don't know the name of it, but it's the one with Julianne Moore playing Sarah Palin). 

During the long stretches of boredom, I bumped into an acquaintance, the lovely and talented Bill Diggle.  "What are you working on?" I asked, knowing that he was always working on something.  "The Nerd," he answered.  "Really?" I responded, "I'm getting ready to do it!"  "I know," he said dryly, "I'm directing you in it."  Turns out that Warner was ducking out of directing the play in order to take care of some administrative duties.

No harm was done.  The Nerd turned out to be one of my all-time favorite theatrical experiences.  Warner knew what he was doing when he cast me as the wise-cracking neighbor with a secret agenda; it was the best part I've had in quite a while. 

The experience was capped by the visit of my whole family, who gathered from North Carolina, Georgia, and New York, to celebrate my father's birthday, and to see the show.  A year earlier, the family had gifted me with a very special Christmas present: a donor's brick on the wall of Wayside Theatre. 

Between Joe's Coat and The Nerd, the little independent movie I shot in 2010 was released.  And by "released," I mean it was self-distributed by the producers.  I understand that they had been submitting the film to various festivals around the world, and no one had nibbled.  A Modest Suggestion  can now be purchased here, and streamed here, as a one-week rental on Amazon.  I bought about 8 copies, and gave them as Christmas presents.  Who wouldn't want a Christmas present which starred me?

My unemployment had run out by the time I snagged another unexpected gig in September.  Once again, someone from Olney Theatre had dropped out of a show, though this time, it was a couple of weeks before rehearsal began.  The lovely and talented Brad Watkins put an emergency note on Facebook, asking for suggestions of replacements. 

The role, Carter in Agatha Christie's Witness for the Prosecution, was a very small one, so small that I wondered if Olney was looking for a non-union actor to play it.  Nevertheless, I dropped Brad an email suggesting myself for the role.  A week later, I was auditioning for the director, and a day or so after that, I was offered the gig.

I'll never make fun of Facebook again.

So, for the second time this year, I landed a job because somebody else quit.  Who cares? I had a lovely time with the show, though the timing of the gig caused some challenges with my personal life.  In the midst of rehearsals, I was notified that I was being awarded a subsidized apartment in Manhattan Plaza, an artists' complex right off Times Square in New York. 

It was a flukey lark that I landed on the waiting list for such a place, back in July of 2003.  It took 8 years, but my name finally rose to the top, and on Halloween, I spent my first night in Apt #29G at ManPlaza. 

It still seems like I'm camping when I'm there, as there is no furniture to speak of, and a blowup mattress serves as my sleeping arrangements.  But the opportunity is too good to pass up, so for the foreseeable future, I will be Bi-Urban, splitting my time between NY and DC as duty dictates.

The year ended with my annual trips to Los Angeles and to North Carolina, so I put Real Life on hold for a bit of Holiday Cheer.  Only now is it sinking in, that I should be dipping my toe into the New York lifestyle, whatever that means.  And I'm ending the year right where I started, with no work on the horizon, but this time, I'm not so worried.  (Yet.)  A lot of people would consider 2011 pretty lousy, and I won't argue, but for me, it was a pretty good year.  I can only hope for more of the same.

Monkey Business

Mike

1931-2011

That birth year seems a little suspect to me, and to others too, as it would make this monkey 80 years old at his death.  Even in captivity, which Mike surely was, this would exceed his normal life expectancy by at least 20 years.  Why are we talking about this?  Because Mike the Monkey was better known by this name:

If the story holds true, Mike was one of over 15 chimps to play Tarzan's comic sidekick and snugglebunny.  The character was a highlight of the film series, acting as a comic foil as well as a loyal friend (Cheetah was fabricated by the film makers, as no such character appears in any of the Edgar Rice Burroughs books from which Tarzan the ape-man sprang).The zoo where Mike has been living for about 40 years claims that he was a gregarious, fun-loving chimp, but when he lost his temper, he would fling his feces. 

This temperamental behavior smacks of a star who does not get his way, and rings true to Mia Farrow.  Mia, you'll recall, is the daughter of Maureen O'Sullivan, who played Jane in the series of Tarzan films starring Johnny Weissmuller.  Farrow recalls that her mother referred to Cheetah as "that bastard," as he was always biting her.  The chimp was always affectionate with Weissmuller, however, leading Maureen to speculate that Cheetah was gay. Who else would want to nuzzle a swimmer in a loincloth?

O'Sullivan should have counted her blessings.  She was only bitten.  Apparently, she could have been pummeled with shit.

Hold It Between Your Knees

Bert Schneider

1933-2011

When this film producer died a few weeks ago, nobody had heard from him in decades.  I was a little too young to appreciate him in his prime, which coincided with the countercultural movement of the late 60s and early 70s.  Though he was born into the Hollywood establishment (his father was a muckity-muck at Columbia during the heyday of the studio system), Bert did his best to forge a new path. 

He attended Cornell for a time, and was expelled.  His producing career took off when he teamed with Bob Rafelson to create the phenomenon known as The Monkees.  He helped concoct the off-beat sitcom, which concerned a rock group loosely based on The Beatles, and was partially responsible for the group's swift rise to superstardom.  When he produced the band's film debut, Head, people thought he'd lost his.  The stream-of-consciousness style of the film alienated the fans of the Monkees, and the really cool kids would not be caught dead watching anything starring The Monkees.  The film tanked, but is now considered an authentic period piece.

Bert's biggest contributions were in film, where he guided Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces, and The King of Marvin Gardens, among others, to cult status.  As I said, I was a little too young to appreciate these films, but I've since seen some clips, including that hilarious diner sequence in Five Easy Pieces.  It's sometimes said that this single scene made Jack Nicholson a star.

Bert Schneider's other films of note include The Last Picture Show and Days of Heaven. 

His documentary, Hearts and Minds, was a devastating illustration of the hypocrisy of the Vietnam war, and was the perfect embodiment of his extreme left-wing politics.  It won the Oscar.  Schneider faded from the national consciousness once his style of "in-your-face" film fell out of fashion, and has rarely been heard from since the mid-70s. He died December 12th, at the age of 78. 

Don Quixote of the Latin Quarter

George Whitman



1913-2011

The above picture is not Whitman, of course, but it illustrates his contribution to the literary world.  Born in New Jersey, he served in Paris during WWII, and settled there.  He began lending books to American soldiers, and soon opened a bookstore called Le Mistral.  Located across the street from Notre Dame cathedral, the shop became a home for itinerant writers, who were always offered a spare bed by Whitman.  One such expat tells this story:

"Eyeing me suspiciously, George asked if I was a writer. I said I’d been a college editor, and had aspirations. He said OK... I could have a week on the mattress."

In the early 50s, Whitman befriended Sylvia Beach, who had owned a bookshop of her own, called Shakespeare and Company, before the war.  She reportedly shut down the place rather than sell a copy of James Joyce's Finnegan's Wake to a Nazi soldier.  That shop never reopened, but Whitman eventually purchased Beach's inventory, and changed the name of his shop to Shakespeare and Company, in her honor. 

It's said that the shop, now run by Whitman's daughter, is the most famous bookshop in the world, having been mentioned in countless pieces of literature, and even having appeared in several movies (Woody Allen's recent hit Midnight in Paris, for instance).

Frankly, I had not heard of this place before Whitman's recent death.  I visited Paris when I was 17, and somehow, a musty, cramped bookshop never made it onto my itinerary (though it surely would now).  But in reading the descriptions of the place, it seems to be a spot where one can browse for hours, discovering treasures. 

So why is this guy's death, and his bookstore, on my radar?  It reminds me of the bookshop which features prominently in one of my favorite little films, 13 Charing Cross Road. 

In that spirit, the Yeats quote which adorns the wall at Shakespeare and Company seems apropos:

"Be not inhospitable to strangers,

Lest they be angels in disguise."

George Whitman, proprietor of the most famous bookstore in the world, died December 14th, at the age of 98.

Before The Parade Passes By

Harry Kullijian

1919-2011

When this guy died last week, on the eve of his 92nd birthday, he was a reminder of the adage, "all things come to he who waits."  And boy, did he wait.  He spent some time in the military, serving with distinction in both WWII and Korea, and was a prominent real estate tycoon, then local politician, in the northern California area.  In 2002, he picked up this book:

In it, his high school sweetheart, Carol Channing, mentioned him fondly.  He looked her up, and they began a late-life romance.  They married a year later, and have since been strong advocates for arts education, forming a foundation.  His death from an aneurysm comes just as a documentary about his wife, Larger Than Life, is making the film festival circuit.

The Mayor of 43rd Street

Dan Frazer

1921-2011

My respect for actors who live their lives "in support" is certainly in play here, as this gent was a common face on TV from the 50s through the 90s.  His most recognizable role was probably as Kojak's boss, a long-suffering police captain saddled with a renegade cop. 

He was equally at home with comedy, appearing in a couple of early Woody Allen films (Take the Money and Run, Bananas) and in a slew of sitcoms. 

He played opposite Sidney Poitier in the film which won the latter his Oscar (Lillies of the Field), and in his later career, was a recurring presence on all three New York based Law and Orders.  That New York connection was very real for Frazer, who was born in the Hell's Kitchen neighborhood of Manhattan, and maintained close ties to the region for the rest of his life.  After his spell in LA, he returned to the neighborhood, since renamed "Clinton," and was such a regular presence there that he became known as the Mayor of 43rd Street.

My New York "branch" is in that neighborhood, but that's not the only reason Dan Frazer is on my radar.  For a decade beginning in 1986, he played the no-nonsense chief of police on As The World Turns, and has the distinction of playing opposite Helen Wagner, whom I have mentioned before in these pages, and who is in the Guinness Book as playing the same role longer than any other actor. 

(I've also written about the now-defunct soap, and the significance it played in my life.)  On the show, Frazer became the second husband of the afore-mentioned Wagner (astonishingly, this soap's matriarch lasted the full 54 years of the show's run, but had only two husbands), and was at the center of an Alzheimer's storyline which was a groundbreaker at the time.

Dan Frazer died several weeks ago, at the age of 90.

Friday Dance Party: Anita Lebost

Mary Tyler Moore turned 75 on Wednesday, so it's only fitting that she star in this week's Dance Party (she appeared in an earlier segment here, in which she and Julie Andrews negotiate a quirky elevator).  Everybody knows she was plucked from relatively obscure dance and commercial gigs to portray Dick Van Dyke's wife, back in 1961.  Our Mare won the first of her Emmy awards for her portrayal of the simultaneously wholesome and sexy suburbanite, Laura Petrie. 

She would go on to headline her own series, of course, for which she was duly awarded, and a bit later, she gave one of the most surprising film performances of the 80s, in Robert Redford's Ordinary People (she was nominated for the Oscar for that one, and should have won, too, but Sissy Spacek's Loretta Lynn took the prize).

But this week's Dance Party brings us back to the sitcom which introduced Ms. Moore to the world.  The Dick Van Dyke Show often featured musical numbers, as its star was one of the premiere song-and-dance men of his generation.

 

This particular segment was included in an episode from October of 1963, and concerned the production of an amateur show which Rob was set to direct.  His wife Laura expected to snag the leading role, until a new neighbor gave a pretty explosive audition.  I suppose hilarity ensued, this is one of the many episodes of this series which I do not remember.  The guest star here is Sylvia Lewis, who occasionally helped with choreography on the series, but on this occasion, stepped in front of the camera.  She does her best to hold her own with Van Dyke and Moore.