It's So Hard To Type With A Gun In My Mouth (47 page)

Many, many times I think of myself as being blessed despite how much I whine. This was one of those times. While I didn't know it then, I was about to be launched on a nonstop educational tour that would open doors for me and help me eventually get to my goal.

Alan Landsburg was a documentary producer who had worked for David Wolper. He was rather famous within the industry.  As a matter of fact in the movie, "BOB, CAROL, TED AND ALICE" there is a line, "Oh look there's Alan Landsburg." It comes out of nowhere but it's poignant because I later learned one of the characters in the movie was based on Alan.  You see, he had been involved in some of the best documentaries aired on TV at that time but he wanted to do more. And so he set up his own production company to produce movies of the week, specials and TV series. Alan's assistant was Marilyn Lassen. I just don't know how to describe her so you'll get the full impact of how wonderful this woman was. She was a very smart, sincere, handsome woman who had all the qualities of Aunt Bea on Mayberry RFD but the savvy of a businesswoman and the smarts of an educator. She was wildly protective of Alan and devoted to her job like a pit bull. She was simply a wonderful person who was the glue that kept that place not only together but running.

My initial job was doing exactly what I was told. Take this here. Pick this up there. Run this over to this place or that. Now you all know me well enough to know that I'm anal-retentive. If I am given a task not only do I do it but also I find ways to do it better. For instance, we would be xeroxing scripts up the ying-yang on regular Xerox paper. Then we would have to three-hole punch them. This took hours. One day I said to Marilyn, "I wonder if there is three hole paper sold? We could save a lot of time."  The next day a box of three-hole paper was delivered to my desk with a love note from Marilyn. Now this was a simple change in the way things were done but no one had thought of it except Uncle Steve. Marilyn was very impressed. 

When a production company is in production there is no 9 to 5. It's whatever the production needs and since I have no trouble getting up in the morning, I was the first one there and the last to leave. Now you have to remember I think I was earning $70.00 dollars a week. But Marilyn kept her eye on me and would tell the higher ups what I was up to. She never had any children of her own, although she was married, and I think she had sort of a motherly interest in me. I may be wrong. It's my perception or maybe how I'd like to remember it. Yes, it's definitely how I would like to remember it. The truth is she was just doing her job, which was to make that place the best it could be for Alan.

The longer I worked there, the more responsibility I got. There was a producer named Stan Chase who also worked there developing projects. He and I struck up a friendship. He asked me to start reading scripts for him and write a synopsis of what I had read. This was the first indication I had that I had a talent for writing.  As I read these scripts I could tell immediately which were crap and which were gold. There are two scripts that stick out in my mind, one was written by Steve Gordon. It was a Broadway playwright and his script was so funny it made me laugh out loud. After I finished reading it I ran to Stan and said, "Don't even bother having me write a review...just see this guy, he's hysterical."  Now this is after I had written maybe 50 reviews for Stan all basically saying. "This sucks."  Steve was brought in and was given a deal based on my recommendation. Who was Steve Gordon? Only the writer who later went on to write "Arthur" and a slew of other films. Sadly he died in 1982 at the age of 44. But I always felt responsible for being one of the first ones to see his talent and get him started; me, the go-for at Alan Landsburg Productions.  The other script that I remember getting all excited about was "The Land That Time Forgot."  I ran in the day after reading it and said to Stan, "This is classic creature movie. Do something with it." And he did. He optioned it.

There were other neat things that happened to me while working there.  I got to meet Lee Radziwill, sister of Jackie Kennedy Onasis. And on several occasions I was asked to deliver scripts to star's homes. Three stick out in my mind... Walter Matthau who lived in a powder blue Spanish stucco house that was so ugly I could not believe my eyes. Henry Fonda, who lived in a classic mansion in Bel Air and Vincent Minnelli. When I was given the script to bring to him I had no idea who he was. All I knew was I had to deliver a script to a director who lived off Wilshire Blvd near Westwood. When I got there, he invited me in. I was standing in his living room and on the fireplace mantel was a framed picture of Judy Garland. Not a publicity shot, a shot like you and I take of relatives at Thanksgiving. Next to that was Liza's picture. It was then it dawned on me that I was standing in the living room of a legend. When he returned I extended my hand and didn't say anything. He thought I wanted a tip and reached into his pocket. "No-no. I want to shake your hand." He smiled and shook it. Trust me that was worth the $70.00 a week I was earning to have met Vincent Minnelli.

I guess I must have been working there a year or so and Christmas rolled around. Marilyn asked me if there was anything I really wanted for Christmas. I told her, "I'd really like to be able to join SAG." (The actor's union)  She just smiled and said, "Wouldn't we all." Eventually Christmas rolled around and everyone got his or her envelopes with a little bonus money in it... everyone except me. I just thought my position didn't warrant a bonus and while I was a little upset I didn't give it any thought. And then Alan called me into his office. "Steve, you've really done a great job for us. We've got a little special gift for you. We're going to use you on camera in a small part and get you into the union." I could not believe my ears. It was impossible to get into the unions and still is. But Alan Landsburg got me in as a Christmas gift... and I'm still a member to this day and every time I get a residual I thank him in my mind.

Just a side note. Alan had two kids. Valerie Landsburg and a boy, whose name I cannot remember. Valerie must have been about nine when I worked for Alan. I used to pick her up from school for him or drop her off at his house. She was an adorable child who grew up to be a regular on the series "FAME" and later went on to be a well-respected director here in LA.  Valerie and I remain friends to this day, while we don't see as much of each other as we used to, we still have a strong bond. It's nice... these friendships I established over the years.

I continued to work for Alan for another year. I got married and had a child and needed more money. They had given me a raise but at that time I wasn't interested in production. I wanted to be a STAR!  And so when Gary signed me to ICM and my career took off, I eventually left Alan Landsburg Productions to pursue my comedy career. If I had to say I made one mistake in my career it was leaving that job. In just a few years Alan was producing IN SEARCH OF... and tons of other series. I would have had a very lucrative job there if I stayed. Oh well. Just one of many bad choices I made over the years.  However, I can say without any fear of being called a liar, those years at Alan Landsburg Productions were some of my happiest, most productive, most rewarding and certainly most educational I can remember. I look back on them with love and respect.

Now...what the fuck am I going to write about tomorrow?

A sad postscript.

After writing this entry I called Val and we got all caught up. It's always good to hear her voice and know she is doing well. I asked, "How is Marilyn?" And all she said was, "Gone."  And for an instant my eyes welled up as I remembered this wonderful woman who had meant so much to me in the very, very beginning of my career. I so wish I had been told at the time of her death. I would have been there... I guess I'm there now. Thank you Marilyn Lassen! Thank you for everything.

NOVEMBER 16, 2006 -
ELLA FITZGERALD

I remember sleeping in my bed the night before 6th grade. I was crying because I was afraid I would not be able to make it through to the 7th grade.  I guess some fears run deep and long. They certainly do in my case.  So...

It was a hot humid night in New York City. (More NY stories) I was sitting in my one room apartment, the a/c was pumping out at maximum capacity and I was dying of the heat. I filled the bathtub with cold water and just soaked in it for 45 minutes. When I got out of the tub I was drenched within three minutes. That's how humid it was that night.  I had to get out of my apartment and so at about 8 p.m. or so I headed out to nowhere in particular. I just needed to get out into the air. You can't call New York City air "fresh" it's just air and I was out in it.

I headed for Central Park thinking there might be some relief from the heat there. When I got to 58 and 5th I could see crowds of people heading into the park and so I followed. As we got closer to the theater near the zoo, I could hear music. It was jazz and I quickened my pace. Soon I could hear the voice of a singer. It was a mellow, soft, clear as a bell voice. It was Ella Fitzgerald. What I had happened upon was a free concert in the park sponsored by Schlitz Beer.

The arena was packed and I wasn't able to get in but outside the arena was a grassy area where people were just sitting and listening. With Ella, just being in the presence of that voice was enough and so I sat there for two hours just basking in the glory of a legend, that magnificent legend. I heard all the Ella classics that night, she sang them all. Unless you've actually heard Ella Fitzgerald sing live, you haven't heard her sing. Live, there is a connection with her and the audience that only comes with years of practice and with generations of audience idolatry.

The concert ended close to 11 p.m. and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. She did encore after encore and then the lights came up and the crowd was forced to go home.  There were literally thousands of people heading in all directions. I'm not good in crowds. I get claustrophobia and so I just stood in one spot as the crowd moved around me. Like standing up to your waist in a moving stream, the crowd gently moved me along with them. I knew I was headed in the right direction but I wasn't making any effort to fight the crowd or set a course. I was just trying to hold on to my sanity in this sea of humanity.

Suddenly and without warning the crowd lunged forward. There was an excitement in the air that hadn't been there before and I found myself moving at a faster pace. Then as suddenly as it surged forward, it came to a dead stop and parted. And from the darkness this frail, little, African American woman entered into the sea of faces. Her head was down, her eyes looking only at the ground. I remember this picture like it happened yesterday. It was Ella Fitzgerald and she was three feet in front of me. She didn't have her wig on and she was wearing thick glasses. She was tiny. I'm 5'9" she must have been 5'. That's how I remember her, frail, tiny, short. Perhaps she was bent over from the pressure of the crowd but all I can remember is thinking, "Look how little and frail she is."  Her voice had been so powerful on stage!

She moved past me, her eyes darting from person to person. She was like a deer caught in the middle of the highway. She tentatively smiled and nodded her head, then our eyes met. I didn't say anything but she looked at me and said, "Thank you," and was whisked on by her caregivers. The crowd followed her and I was left alone standing on the sidewalk in Central Park. I kept asking myself why did she thank me? What had she seen in me that prompted that response? I started the debate between my ears, "I'm special. No, that's not right. How could I be special? Yes, I'm special she saw it and thanked me."   I decided she felt my love for her and was thanking me for loving her but not coming too close. Truth is she was just saying Thank You to anyone who happened to be in front of her.

This chance meeting started my obsession with Ella Fitzgerald and her music. I have loved that voice ever since that night and when I finally got into the business I tried like hell to get her on every show I ever worked on. It never happened and it saddened me. I wanted to sit with her and hear her stories and laugh at her jokes and just be around greatness.

Many years after she passed I was at a dinner party with a British filmmaker. He was going on about how he had this project and could not get anyone interested in it. How he had some of the finest recordings ever made and not a studio in town would touch his project. What was it? The Ella Fitzgerald Story. It was that night I truly learned how cruel show business is. Because without a doubt this woman was the finest vocalist to ever live, better than Garland, better than Streisand. She was the example the rest should have been held up to.

But show business is not about art; it's about making money. The all mighty dollar rules the decisions on what gets made. I guess that's why there is such crap to be seen. The demographic is 18 to 35 and that group has never heard of Ella Fitzgerald.  And so the studios turn up their noses at a magnificent story.  But it will never happen, not until someone with enough money and enough passion comes along to produce a film about her. Someone with enough money they won't care if it's a financial success, they just want to tell the story for history to document. OPRAH, I'm talkin' to YOU!