Moose Murdered: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Broadway Bomb (23 page)

As he’d threatened last night at the Dakota, John pronounced that all further previews would be suspended until a replacement was found. And we wouldn’t bother calling Joan Copeland’s agent. Her absence bespoke volumes.

Eve would be let go first thing in the morning. Bret would be phoned, who would in turn call Glenn to give Eve official notice. The cast would continue to draw full salary. The rental on the O’Neill would continue to be paid.

We all sat in silence for quite some time.

“Knockers up!” said John at last, quoting Snooks.

Home again we went, Dennis and I, and spent quite some time just holding the dog, holding each other, and trying as best we could to keep our heads above water as the steady downpour of despair continued. We fully realized the precariousness of the situation. The budget simply could not withstand any sort of extended suspension of previews. We remembered how long it had taken to negotiate with the other cast members, and here we were looking for somebody to rush into a pivotal role, learn it in a week, and save the play by mid-February. The prospect of closing down completely must be looking awfully good to the producers right now.

The thought of opening the show and being panned by the critics was awful enough. But to have come this far and not to open at all . . . that was simply unacceptable.

Unacceptable.

On top of all this, Dennis and I had both been discerning a growing doubt in Ricka about the show itself. Her allegiance was to John, of course, so we found a little encouragement by his continued conviction that the show
did
work. God knows where he was finding this conviction, but we weren’t knocking it.

Another night of sleeplessness at 85 Fourth Avenue.

The news swept through the New York theatrical community at an unbelievable speed. Bret was phoned sometime during midmorning. The gossip columnist Liz Smith (the “Grand Dame of Dish”) was first with the story on her Live at Five segment on WNBC. “Something called
Moose Murders,
” she reported, “which was to open next Monday, will not—its star, Eve Arden, has dropped out—so who knows what the future of this show will be?”

We returned from dinner to find several messages from Amy Pagnozzi of the
New York Post
: “We understand that Eve Arden has been fired. Please call in reference to this!”

Betty Lee’s official press release used the phrase “withdrew amicably due to artistic differences.” Eve’s departure, it was stressed, was a mutual decision. All concerned began to scramble to save face. Unfortunately, most of us were wholly unprepared to deal with the onslaught of harassment from the press. Ms. Pagnozzi, in particular, was relentless. Along with Dennis and me, she phoned Jerry, June, and Ricka. Betty Lee strongly advised Ricka not to avoid her but to graciously take her call and simply stick to the agreed on talking points in the press release.

The
Post
wanted a story, however, and a better story than a simple explanation of “artistic differences” would provide. There were rampant street rumors. June was convinced that both the
Post
and the
New York Daily News
had planted reporters in the audience Saturday night.

Wednesday’s press ran the gamut. The
Times
had a very small article buried in Section C, using the wording of the press release. The
News
ran an article by Patricia O’Haire, using some of the material from an earlier interview with Eve. O’Haire also wrote the following:

“According to rumors around Broadway, the producers are believed to be talking to Polly Bergen, who hasn’t been on stage here for quite a while, either, and Elaine Stritch, who has been living in London a number of years.”

The article also quoted Eve: “I wasn’t as sure about returning here as was my manager—whom I’ve been with almost as long as I’ve been with my husband. I had read the script and liked it. I wanted some things changed, but I felt this could be fun. What decided me was when the producers agreed that I could do it for six months only.”

But it was Amy Pagnozzi’s article in the
Post
that was both the most truthful and the most damaging. “A Star Is Shorn,” screamed the headline, “as Producer’s Cast Eve from ‘Moose.’”

Bad enough, but here’s the lead: “Eve Arden, set to make her Broadway comeback after a 42 year absence, has been fired by the producers of ‘Moose Murders.’”

It was this last sentence, along with the verb
fired
that set Bret Adams into a frenzy. He called Ricka and let loose his full agent’s wrath, promising legal trouble forthwith. According to Ricka, he was blaming her for the thrust of Amy’s article, despite knowing full well this tabloid’s loose stance on accuracy when it came to celebrity gossip. John assured the uncustomarily intimidated Ricka that Adams’s abuse was being specifically used to gain political leverage—he knew she (Ricka) was a far easier target than the Post itself.

June knew Amy slightly, and told us she was an ambitious
(duh)
twenty-something who knew how to get to the top
(duh, again)
. Amy had told her during their own early-morning phone conversation that Ricka had advised her to call the cast members directly. She was good.

Nasty little rumors about Eve’s alleged drinking habits were also circulating now, along with other sordid tidbits about the star’s personal habits. Suddenly we were news—and not very pretty news. Force Ten fielded hundreds of calls, and we were all advised to keep our answering machines on.

I made two attempts to contact Eve at the Wyndham, and both times was told there was “no answer” at her room. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that she was unwilling or uninterested in speaking to me, since we’d never really “clicked” since those first few torturous hours in Beverly Hills. About the only cast member who’d managed to do so with her—as far as I could tell—was Scott—for whatever reasons. I suspect because he was treating her a lot like Hans Christian Andersen, and reveling in all her fantastic stories. With me, though, Eve had remained distant and impenetrable. One of the most telling signs of her discomfort during this project had been the glazed expression she’d employed throughout most of the rehearsals. She rarely even broke into a smile. I suspected even then that I would always hold at least a little resentment toward her, for never once acknowledging the work I put into the show to cater to all her “ideas.” I felt then (and still do, truth be told) that she took all this for granted, as if I’d been employed to render exactly this sort of service.

But this ultimate frosty shoulder really resonated deeply. It hurt like hell. Because I also felt profoundly sorry for this extremely gracious and gentle lady, who had found herself enduring such obvious agony day after day. Not only the chagrin of not being able to cut it on stage, but the burden of steadfastly maintaining a vibrant image for her public. She could never just schlep out of the Wyndham to put in her day’s work, she had to spend hours with her makeup and wardrobe, as if she was preparing for a big Hollywood epic. The Eve Arden persona was formidable, and her pride—at least at first—matched it. To see both shattered during those two previews was unspeakably sad.

Although I was never to see or speak to Eve again, the press reported that she would be staying in New York to finish her book. I wondered if
Moose Murders
would be a chapter, or even a mention. More likely, I decided, the play was destined to be permanently stricken from her résumé.

Rehearsal was called for eleven on Wednesday morning. Suzanne stood in for Hedda as the search for Eve’s replacement continued.

As the News reported, Stuart did contact Elaine Stritch, whose availability was confirmed. She’d recently lost her husband, though, and wanted to return to the theater for “therapeutic” reasons, which did not portend well under these urgent circumstances. We did finally hear from Joan Copeland’s agent, who told us what we’d already surmised: Miss Copeland had indeed made a hasty and unannounced exit after Monday’s performance, fully convinced that the play didn’t work “with or
without
Eve.” Anne Francine, likewise, was no longer interested. Peg Murray was also represented by Bret Adams, so we didn’t even bother attempting to contact her.

Stuart suggested Jane Powell; he’d directed her in the past and knew her to be a quick study. Ricka called her early in the morning, just as she was going out the door, and made arrangements to have a “serious conversation” later that evening.

While we waited for those negotiations, Stuart began to push Holland Taylor. Her critically acclaimed run in
Breakfast with Les and Bess
had recently ended at the Hudson Guild, and we were told she had experience stepping into projects on short notice. Her manager was sent a script immediately, and, by midafternoon, he had notified Ricka that he “loved it.” (Ever notice how many people in this business
love
things? We’re all so affectionate.) He was handing it right over to Miss Taylor.

Unfortunately, news of Jane Powell’s “involvement” had already leaked out. And the very next morning, The
News
ran another article by Patricia O’Haire with the headline “Will Powell Go Straight?”

“Jane Powell,” the article began, “the movie and musical comedy star, ‘has been approached’ about taking over Eve Arden’s role in ‘Moose Murders,’ the new comedy-mystery.”

Within this article, Miss Powell was quoted as saying: “I’d love to do a straight play. But I haven’t read the script on this one and I don’t know anything about it. I’d love to do a musical, too, if one came along, but I’d prefer a straight play.”

We get it, Jane. These days, with billing, you’d consider a
high wire act
; so don’t count you out.

Poor Jane (or
fortunate
Jane, whichever way you want to look at it) was contacted that same morning and told that “legal problems” had caused a delay. The producers were sorry for any “misunderstanding.” The insouciant star of
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
was completely amicable.

Hours after this conversation had taken place, the cast members of
Moose Murders
were all phoned individually to be informed that the new Hedda Holloway was to be Holland Taylor.

Nick, I think, was the most elated, since he had been most noticeably affected by Eve’s disability on stage.

“I can finally have some fun with that last scene!” he told me outside the theater late that afternoon, as we admired a collage of production shots featuring Eve Arden—all of which, of course, would now have to be replaced, along with all the ads, the marquee, the posters, and the Playbills.

The resulting press regarding Holland’s selection made things look pretty damn cheerful, and we could sense a rekindling of public interest. We thought Liz Smith was being a little snippy, though, when she reported in her Thursday column that “Kaye Ballard will host a Sunday luncheon at The Common Good for pal Eve Arden (they starred in
The Mothers-in-Law
together). Eve’s children are coming in from California in spite of the fact that mom has dropped out of B’way’s
Moose Murders
. Eve is a major talent and somebody should come up with a good play for her in a hurry.”

We were all now experts at identifying even the most benign implications, so this and the Dame of Dish’s initial referral of “something called
Moose Murders
” made us really defensive. So much so that we went whining about her to Betty Lee.