6/25/22
Newsletter22
At 4:47AM it’s still dark but I can see the slightest hint of blue in the sky.
In 1913 Polish Jewish immigrant Sam Goldfish formed a movie company with his brother-in-law, Jesse Lasky, Adolph Zukor, and Cecil B. DeMille, which would ultimately be called Paramount Pictures. Zukor was president of the company and immediately fired Sam Goldfish. Sam then formed a company with a man named Edgar Selwyn, called Goldwyn Pictures. Sam liked the name Goldwyn and took it as his own. That company was quickly purchased and amalgamated with Metro Pictures and Louis B. Mayer Pictures to become Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, of which Sam Goldwyn was never a part. He then formed Samuel Goldwyn Pictures, of which he was total owner and therefore couldn’t be fired. Sam Goldwyn then became the greatest independent producer in Hollywood.
Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto 2 at a point becomes one-hit-wonder Eric Carmen’s song, “All by Myself.”
On Dec. 11, 1938, they began shooting “Gone With the Wind” by burning down all the sets on the RKO-Pathé to make room for their sets. But they put antebellum facades on the buildings and used the footage for the burning of Atlanta. The biggest set they torched was built for DeMille’s 1927 version of “King of Kings” as the Jerusalem gate. It was redressed five years later to become the giant gate on Skull Island in “King Kong.” Meanwhile, every actress in Hollywood had tested for the part of Scarlett O’Hara, and producer David Selznick didn’t like any of them. So, as the burned down the sets that night, Selznick’s brother, Myron, a big-shot agent, showed up with his two newest clients, the husband and wife team of Laurence Olivier and Vivian Leigh. David Selznick met Vivian Leigh and immediately cast her as Scarlett.
On my first day in New Zealand in 1993 to work on “Hercules,” the very kind line producer, Eric, and his wife, Patricia, both from L.A., took me out to dinner. They told me that their passion was collecting old movie posters, and their pride was an enormous original poster of the movie, “Out of the Past.” Patricia said, “I know everything about ‘Out of the Past.’” Eric added, “She does, too.” Being the movie know-it-all that I am, I blurted out, “Who was the cinematographer?” Patricia’s face went blank and she asked, “Do you know?” I said, “Yes. It may even be on your giant poster.” Eventually she gave up and I said, “Nicholas Musuraca.” And so the producer’s wife never liked me for the next eight years.
Three old Jewish men are sitting in a doctor’s office. One says, “Oy, I can’t urinate.” Another says, “You think that’s bad, I can’t defecate.” The third old man says, “I urinate six times a day and I defecate four times a day.” The other men ask, “What’s the problem?” The man says, “I can’t get out of bed.”
We picked up the final stunt shots on my last feature, “Warpath,” in a wooded area in Pontiac, about a half-mile from where I now sit. The crew kept complaining about a bad smell. We moved the crew a couple of times, but the smell just got worse. Finally, a stunt person bounced off a mini-trampoline like they’d just been blown up, landed on a mattress and came to face to face with a human corpse buried beneath some sticks. It was a male murder victim. Now my shoot had to stop because ten police cars arrived and everybody had to fill out police reports. Me and my co-producer, Mike, quickly filled out our reports, then drove off searching for a new location, because our old one was now a crime scene. Because they now had the corpus delicti, the police were quickly able to arrest the murders, the deceased’s girlfriend and her father. Mike and I found a new location, moved the whole company, and completed our day of shooting.
Morning has broken like the first morning. We must fix it.
Just want to drop a note of appreciation: I read this every day, and it's been a great start to my mornings at slightly after the ass crack of dawn. Thanks.