7/15/22
Newsletter42
The Ass Crack of Dawn
Since I’ve been telling John Ford tales, here’s the most important one: in 1951, at the height of the “Red Scare,” HUAC, and the Hollywood blacklist, the Director’s Guild of America (my union) had a special meeting. The DGA’s president, Joseph Mankiewicz, was 41, a lefty, and the hottest director in town. The conservative, right wing, led by Cecil B. DeMille, took the stage. They demanded that every member of the guild sign a loyalty oath to America. Mankiewicz was against it, but lost control of the overcrowded meeting. Suddenly, a voice from the back of the room spoke up. It was the custom to say your name and position when you spoke at a meeting. A little man in dirty dungarees, untied sneakers, a fisherman’s cap, and chewing on a handkerchief, stood up and said, “My name is John Ford and I make westerns.” Ford never went to DGA meetings. He turned to DeMille and said, “C.B., you and me have been in Hollywood longer than anyone here. We’ve been here since before the beginning. And you make pictures that people love. But politically, C.B., you’ve got your head up your ass. Now I say we all back our president, don’t sign any loyalty oaths, and get the hell out of here.” DeMille’s suggestion was shot down, and that was the end of the discussion.
My old buddy Justin, inspired by this newsletter, added: if Ella Fitzgerald married Darth Vader, she’d be Ella Vader.
The last shot of “Evil Dead 2” is of Bruce out in front of the castle. The camera pulls back above a crowd of people all chanting, “Hail he who fell from sky,” and lifting their swords in the air. The shot ends with a single sword and gloved hand rising up right in front of the lens – that’s my hand. As we were sitting around waiting for this shot to be set up, I sat talking with the producer, Rob Tapert, and Bruce’s stunt man, John Casino. John looked a lot like Bruce, but bigger and stronger. I asked him what other films he’d worked on. He listed them off, then got to “Back to School.” I said, “I don’t remember any stunts in that film.” John said, “I was in the big bar fight scene.” I said, “I don’t remember a big bar fight.” John said, “That’s because they cut it out.” Being a smartass, I shot back, “I guess they must’ve been good stunts.” John rose to his feet, stepped forward so he was now looming over me, pointed down into my face and hissed, “They were great stunts, asshole!” and stomped away. Rob Tapert nearly busted a gut he was laughing so hard, and said, “Leave it to you to make enemies with the biggest guy on the set.” Luckily, later that day Sam Raimi showed me some of the footage. In one scene John Casino falls down the steps into the cellar and it’s a good stunt. The next time I saw him I said, “Hey, John, that was a great stunt you did falling down the stairs.” He said, “Yeah, that’s because I’m a good stunt man.” And, thankfully, he wasn’t mad at me anymore.
One of my favorite director-writers is George Seaton, who grew up in Detroit. He became well-known (in Hollywood) when he won an Oscar for his script, “Miracle on 34th Street,” which he also directed. Seaton wrote and directed a lot of good movies, like: “Mr. 880” (with young Burt Lancaster), “Anything Can Happen” (a wonderful film) “But Not For Me” (one of Clark Gable’s last good movies), “Teacher’s Pet,” (a charming, terrific film, Clark Gable’s last good movie, and Gig Young won the Oscar for Supporting Actor), and many others. George Seaton capped off his long career in 1970 by writing and directing “Airport” (also with Burt Lancaster), the first film that started a decade of “Disaster films.” “Airport” is by far the best of all of them. Helen Hayes, who was quite old, won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. As she went up on stage to get the award, she tripped on the steps and fell flat on her face. And that’s why attractive young women and men escort the actors on and off stage at the Oscars.
The sky is light and cloudless. I think I can just see a bit of sun poking through the trees. Today is the first day of the rest of my life.