4/28/23
Newsletter #320
The Crack of Dawn
A credit you don’t see anymore is, “Introducing.” Generally, the credit was used for young, new, up-and-coming actors, who nine times out of ten didn’t amount to anything. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) has, “And Introducing Geoffrey Horne,” who plays the young, inexperienced soldier who isn’t sure he can kill with a knife. He’s OK, but how did he get the part? Geoffrey Horne had no film career at all after that. Ben Hur (1959) has, “And Introducing Haya Harareet,” who was also OK, too, and similarly had no career after that.
One example of the Introducing credit that amuses me is in the film Zulu (1964). The credit reads, “And Introducing Michael Caine.” Michael Caine makes a credited appearance eight years earlier in an interesting, cheap film called, A Hill in Korea (1956). The film’s American title is, Hell in Korea. The film has almost the same plot as Zulu – a small number of soldiers are surrounded by a huge number of enemy soldiers and somehow manage to live through it. Other actors who appear extremely early in their careers in this small, forgotten film, A Hill in Korea, are: Robert Shaw, Stephen Boyd, and Stanley Baker. Eight years later Stanley Baker would co-star with Michael Caine in Zulu.
Another “And Introducing” credit that’s silly is in Lawrence of Arabia (1962). It says, “And Introducing Peter O’Toole as T.E. Lawrence.” That’s swell, except Peter O’Toole had already co-starred in the A-film, The Day They Robbed the Bank of England (1960), two years earlier. Unlike Michael Caine who had one or two lines in A Hill in Korea, Peter O’Toole (with a black beard) is the second-lead in The Day They Robbed the Bank of England.
Groucho Marx said of Peter O’Toole, “He has a double phallic name.”
On Groucho Marx’s TV show, You Bet Your Life, he made fun of everybody, including really big names like Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein, for instance. In his own inimitable way, Groucho would glom onto something that he thought was funny, then beat it into the dirt until we all thought it was funny. Poor Richard Rogers. When these two men walked out on stage to meet Groucho, they had the biggest run of enormously successful Broadway shows of anyone ever: Oklahoma!, Carousel, The King and I, Pal Joey, South Pacific, and The Sound of Music, in a row. Groucho didn’t care. He found his joke right away, then never let up. I must paraphrase.
GM: So, what’re your names?
OH: I’m Oscar Hammerstein.
RR: I’m Richard Rogers.
GM: Did you say, Roy Rogers?
RR: No, Groucho, I’m Richard Rogers.
GM: Well why didn’t you say so? Did you bring Trigger?
RR: I’m not Roy Rogers, I’m Richard Rogers.
GM: And what do you fellas do for a living?
RR: We write songs.
GM: Cowboy songs?
RR: No . . .
Etc. Once Groucho found his joke he was unrelenting. The favorite in our offices in Ferndale, where we “Detroit Mafia” guys made Evil Dead, Thou Shalt Not Kill…Except, Crimewave, and Evil Dead II, was Groucho interviewing the Swedish wrestler, Tor Johnson. Scott Spiegel had the show on cassette tape and played it as often as humanly possible. Tor Johnson played the monster in Edward D. Wood, Jr.’s films, Bride of the Monster (1955) and Plan 9 From Outer Space (1959).
GM: So, Tor, what do you do?
TJ: I play a monster.
GM: You play a mouse?
TJ: No, I play a monster.
GM: Well, why didn’t you say so? Tor, what are your measurements?
TJ: My chest is sixty-eight, my stoma-waistline is fifty-two.
GM: We have the same measurements. You and my Buick.
We listened to that tape so many times, and repeated those lines so often, they made it into our movies. In Cleveland Smith Bounty Hunter (1981), when Bruce is being beaten up by a giant native – engendering one of Scott’s and my better lines, “Put me down, U-bangi” – in the looping where Bruce added his grunts and groans, he also added, “My stoma-waistline.”
But the greatest thing I ever done seen on You Bet Your Life was when Groucho had Francis X. Bushman on the show. Francis X. Bushman’s most famous part was as Messala in the 1925 Ben Hur. Bushman was a big, handsome guy with a broad chest who was an enormous movie star for over a decade, 1915-1925. He made over a million dollars a year (which was really good money back then), then got completely wiped out in the 1929 crash. And then didn’t cut it in the talkies, either, even though he had a good voice, and his career was over. That’s Hollywood.
So, Mr. Bushman was about 80 when he was on Groucho’s show and he looked great. Tall, white-haired, he still had a big broad chest. Groucho was no youngster, he was about 65, but he was still 15 years younger than Bushman. It’s the only time I remember Groucho being so impressed he was not speechless, he was jokeless. After complimenting the crap out of Bushman, Groucho asked . . .
GM: How many pictures did you make?
FXB: Over 700 Groucho.
Groucho’s eyes widened like he was hearing the impossible.
GM: 700? My brothers and I made 18 pictures.
FXB: Over 700. And I did my own stunts, including the chariot race in Ben Hur.
Groucho’s show ran from 1947 (on radio) to 1961. BTW, Groucho was the only one on TV to shoot an hour on film, then only show 30-minutes. That way he didn’t have to watch out for what he said and they could cut anything objectionable out before they aired. I’ve never seen any of this footage, nor has anyone else – it was undoubtedly shit-canned – but there were all sorts of stories. One I like is a housewife is the guest and Groucho says, “Tell me about yourself.” She says, “I have ten kids and I love to talk.” Groucho turned into the camera, waggled his ridiculous eyebrows, and said, “I have a solution that will end both of your problems.”
And thus a new day dawns.