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The
Rant
July 1, 2004
The other day I was listening to a CBC Radio interview that Weekend AM host, Ramona Dearing did with actor, Andy Jones, who was telling about an encounter he had several years ago with the great writer, Samuel Beckett (Waiting for Godot). Apparently, one day while Andy was rehearsing a show called Pilk's Madhouse in the upstairs performance space at the Royal Court Theatre in London, Beckett, who was rehearsing Albert Finney in Godot downstairs in the main theatre, stood at the back of the upstairs room while Andy did a scene from Madhouse. Samuel observed for a time, said nothing, and eventually quietly left the room. Not quite a close encounter of the third kind, but not bad. After all, how many thespians can claim their work was seen by a god like Samuel Beckett?
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| Samuel Beckett |
I can understand why Andy, in particular, was impressed by this chance meeting with an icon like Beckett. After all, Jones is an actor who's actually read Beckett, unlike some today who might think Shakespeare is a new band or club. Anyway, this Andy interview got me thinking about my own brushes with the 'famous' or, perhaps, semi-famous? (Jones definitely has me trumped with the Sam Beckett thing.) First, let me say that I have run into many famous people over the years as a result of wandering the halls at the CBC. For example, I have been quite near Pierre Elliott Trudeau and Jean Chretien. Trudeau was shorter than I'd expected, but very well dressed. Chretien was taller and wearing a suit that looked like it had been slept in. His tie was askew as well...like William F. Buckley's permanently skewed neckwear. Oh, and Chubby Checker was not all that 'chubby'. (God rest his soul.) Ooops, I almost forgot, when I was host of Weekend AM in the late seventies I did do a one on one, in person interview with the great Sir Michael Redgrave (The Browning Version, The Importance of Being Ernest). Okay, so he's no Sam Beckett, but still, not too shabby.
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| Lester Bowles Pearson |
Apart from the encounters with celebrities at my work, I have also (as a private citizen) run into my share of swells over the years. It began when I was about ten, in the mid-sixties. My father took me to the terminal (a novelty then) at St. John's Airport where, as luck should have it, the Prime Minister of Canada was arriving. It was the Right Honorable Lester Bowles Pearson. (For those of you who have been wondering about the viability of minority governments...Pearson is regarded as having been one of the country's finest Prime Ministers, and he never - not even once - had a majority government!) We stood on the sidelines as the great man walked by. Just as he was about to pass me, my father pushed me forward and Mr.Pearson gave me a big smile and held out his soft warm hand for me to shake. He had one of the kindest faces I have ever seen. I was thrilled to bits. I liked Pearson a lot.
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| David Janssen (foreground) and Barry Morse |
In 1974 I was travelling in the United Kingdom with a friend. We spent about a week in London, one of the most interesting large cities in the world. One day, not far from Trafalgar Square, I found myself window shopping in a large store window. I was staring at some jewelry on display when I sensed someone coming alongside to join me in window shopping. I paid no attention at first, but then I saw my neighbour's reflection in the glass. It was unmistakable! I was staring at the face of Lieutenant Phillip Gerard, the man I used to watch every week relentlessly hunting poor David Janssen (a.k.a. Dr. Richard Kimble) on the television series, The Fugitive. His real name is Barry Morse. It sounds silly, but for a split second I felt like the innocent Richard Kimble. My first impulse was to turn on my heel and get the hell out of there before he slapped the cuffs on me. But then I heard him speak to his lady companion and I was brought back to reality. He had a British accent! I was stunned. On television he sounded thoroughly American, but then I reminded myself he was an actor...an actor who played an American cop on an American television show. It was all fake. I realized that he could probably sound authentically Russian or French with equal ease. But I didn't care, because I had quite literally rubbed shoulders with a bonifide TV star!
One evening, a few years later, I was attending a family dinner at a fairly good upstairs restaurant called Sergio's. It was across the street from the Courthouse on Water Street in St. John's on the second floor of the structure that will be forever known to me as the 'Musical Clock Building'. The dinner was for my sister, Betty, who was visiting from her home...Montreal. At the time (1977) Michael Anderson was filming a movie in St. John's and environs called Orca. It starred Richard Harris and Bo Derek. Seated across from us at Sergio's that evening were two of the lesser stars of the movie. I recognized the great journeyman actor, Keenan Wynn, while my sister (slightly older) also identified his once famous dinner companion, Don 'Red' Barry. He used to be a fairly significant cowboy star back in the Gene Autry and Rex Allen days. For me, Keenan Wynn was clearly the 'star' but I think my sister was just as thrilled to see Red Barry.
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| Keenan Wynn in Orca |
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| Cowboy star, Don 'Red' Barry |
Over the course of their meal they got quite boisterous but remained pleasant enough. Chasing killer whales must have been tense work, so I guess they needed to let off a little steam. No doubt the several beverages they consumed helped too. They noticed us gawking at them, like people who had never seen moving picture stars before (which was mostly true). However, I think Keenan mistook my attractive sister's glances for something a little more amorous. The next thing we new, Keenan Wynn was towering over us with the much shorter Red Barry in tow. Wynn mumbled something to my sister, bent over, took her hand and kissed the back of it. She politely accepted this gesture but quickly acknowledged Mr. Barry, letting him know she was fully aware of his special status within the firmament of cowboy stars. He seemed quite charmed and quickly began apologizing for any inconvenience or annoyance they might have caused. Keenan (by now teetering in a worrisome manner after his display of gallantry) seemed to lose his tongue. Barry allowed they had been imbibing a tad strenuously in celebration of the day's successful shoot and seemed very protective of his friend Keenan. I got the impression this was not the first time he had acted as Keenan's minder/navigator. After a brief exchange between sister and Red, while I sat gobsmacked and dumbfounded by this Hollywood moment, the cowboy and his charge got on their horses and rode off into the sunset, albeit a lttle wobbly.
Having one chance encounter with a movie star is remarkable. However, in the case of James Woods (The Onion Field, Joshua Then and Now), I had two, both in different cities and years apart. One evening in 1984 I was walking up trendy St. Catherine's Street in Montreal, heading back to my hotel when I noticed a man and woman coming up the sidewalk toward me from the opposite direction. They were linked arm in arm. He was wearing a dark overcoat with the collar turned up. I recognized his face right away. It was James Woods - a lean and hungry looking James Woods. If you saw Joshua Then and Now you'll know what I mean because that's why he was in Montreal at the time. He was making that movie. We passed each other quietly, without a ripple. I wanted to say something to Mr. Lean and Hungry, but again, nada would come out. So, let's flash ahead about fifteen years...
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| James Woods |
It's Toronto, the mid 1990's. I am having lunch at a sidewalk table on a beautiful summer's day at one of Toronto's best Italian restaurants in Little Italy. A smart looking waiter in white apron with perfect dark skin and long black tie is pouring me a glass of Chianti. The sun is brilliant. Suddenly, from the dark interior recesses of the same restaurant I hear the voice of...James Woods. His voice is spirited, full of energy, happy. He is chatting gregariously with patrons as he makes his way toward the front of the restaurant and my sidewalk table. Trailing along with him are a group of stunningly beautiful women. They all look like models. It turns out they are all actresses working on a movie with him. I quickly try to think of something smart to say like, "Hey Jimmy, fancy meeting you again!" However, before I have my chance he makes a sharp right turn and exits through an opening between tables. A convoy of mini vans was waiting for him and his beauties. As he walked toward the waiting economy vehicle, I couldn't help but notice how the sudden exposure to sunlight seemed to wash away his 'star' aura. He quickly looked quite ordinary to me, even a little shabby. But what I vividly remember, (and this will sound strange), was his elbows. The skin of his elbows was dark, sagging loose and dry. In short, they looked awful. I have often wondered why it was that he had never thought to use a good moisturizer on those elbows. Go figure.
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| Wayne Gretzky |
Wayne Gretzky was another of my famous people encounters. Once again I was in Montreal, this time walking up Crescent Street in the heart of the downtown on a beautiful summer's afternoon. It was early in Gretzky's career. I pause for a moment to take in the scene. Then I see a ring of very muscular men pass in front of me. To be honest, they looked like delegates to a body building convention. However, when they got close to me I noticed that precisely in the middle of this gaggle of giants was a slight-framed, thin little fellow wearing a white tee shirt and short pants. I am convinced a good gust of wind would have blown him all the way to Kansas. Of course, it was Wayne Gretzky. I had not pictured the 'Great One' having a body quite that unimpressive. However, I quickly realized why he was his own 'no roughing' zone. The beefy friends were apparently his personal body guards, hired by Oilers owner Peter Pocklington to protect his and the NHL's most valuable property. A young Quebecer, seeing the flash of recognition on my face, said to me excitedly as Gretzky went by, "Steve Podborski! Right?"...Not able to disappoint, I simply said, "Yep."
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| Jon Voigt |
There are not many stars today who actually look like stars but, by God, about four years ago I saw one in the flesh. I was having dinner one evening with some friends at a new restaurant in Toronto called The Brownstone. It was and may still be on Yonge Street. Seated just a couple of tables away and facing me was a group of young black men and women, all looking very cool in leather jackets, with lots of expensive jewelry and accessories. With them (looking a little out of place) but obviously enjoying the company of his friends was a well-dressed white man with light hair. At first I could not believe I was actually dining next to this man, but I was. Then he stood up to leave and walked a little closer to me. He was tall and regal looking. He wore a beautifully tailored dark blue suit with white shirt and tie. He had chiseled features, was tanned, fit, and had an aura about him. I was, without a doubt, looking at a man who was a real movie star, like the ones from Hollywood's golden age. The man's name?...Jon Voigt (Midnight Cowboy, Runaway Train). Believe it or not, my friends didn't notice him, and like the person who is afraid to make a move for fear a rare bird will disappear before he gets a picture, I opted to say nothing about him to my friends until he had left the restaurant. I somehow thought if I brought attention to him I would scare him away, and I must admit, I was enjoying dining so close to this Hollywood icon. Was it selfish of me not to share my info with my friends?...Nah.
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| William Hurt in Rare Birds |
Finally, speaking of Rare Birds, I will tell you that a couple of years ago I spent an entire day working alongside the Oscar winning actor and Newsweek Magazine cover subject, William Hurt. We were together roughly nine hours.It was a thrill for me and the handful of other people who shared the day with William. (He called me Karl and I called him William. YES!!) I won't tell you more because I promised to protect the man's privacy...(I know. You're dying to know more. But, what can I say? Sometimes life's like that. Sorry.) Of course, this won't impress Andy Jones one bit because he starred in Rare Birds with Hurt. As a matter of fact, you could say he stole the picture from the Oscar winner....Oh, by the way, did I mention that I once met the great actor and playwright...Andy Jones?
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