In the beginning it didn't much matter where you made a movie. The motion picture was a gimmick nobody took very seriously, and the vaudeville houses used them to chase out customers between shows. When the customers started to linger, an industry was born.
TORONTO, Canada - Joy Bang told me to meet her at her place, over at the Strip above a boutique, and when I got there she was being towed along the sidewalk by a large dog named Tai, which meant, she said, "dog" in a language I didn't catch.
This is a memory of the summer of 1969 from the location of "Waterloo," now at the Roosevelt.
STOCKHOLM, Sweden - The premiere of Jan Troell's "The Emigrants" was held in the Roda Kvarn, a cozy little jewelbox of a theater that was built in 1915, when Swedish silent films were finding an international audience. But Troell's film wasn't merely post-silent; it was post-Bergman, post-sex, post- the image of Swedish films in the 1960s.
"Oh, what a funny thing happened this afternoon," Melina Mercouri said, curling her feet beneath her and her voice around me. "A man came to interview me from the newspaper and I said, let me make you feel at home. What can 1 do for you? And he said, Peel me a grape. I peeled a grape and I fed it to him." She smiled wickedly. "A little bit at a time. Now I ask what can I do for you?"
James Wong Howe settled himself into a swivel chair on the stage of the Carnegie Theater, looked around, and asked it they could turn the house lights up. That's Jimmy Howe for you: Before you shoot a scene, you light it first.
"A water bed?" Robert Mitchum said. "What would that be? A bed filled with water?"
Carrie Snodgress had invited her parents to join her for the Thursday fashion luncheon at the Pump Room, and now they were looking at a model wearing something long and slinky from Saks Fifth Avenue.
MALIBU, 1970 -- The door flew open from inside, revealing Lee Marvin in a torrid embrace, bent over Michelle Triola, a fond hand on her rump. "Love!" he said. "It's all love in this house. Nothing but love. All you need is love . . ."
HOLLYWOOD -- "Make a reservation at Le Bistro," Groucho Marx said over the telephone. "And make sure you make the reservation. I went there once with some schnook from Life who thought you could walk right in. And for God's sake make sure it's even open on Sunday. If it isn't, make a reservation at the Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills Hotel. To me it's just a device to get a free lunch. If I mention 'Minnie's Boys,' it will be strictly by accident. And for God's sake don't bring along any gadgets, any of that electronic gear...."