TEN QUESTIONS & ANSWERS
FOR
…SUCH CREATURES IN!
By
Bruce J Starin
Throughout your lengthy career in show business you have come into contact with a huge variety of people, places and situations… How did you remember them all?
After telling an early mentor of mine who was a working writer for a network police drama, I had been hired as a Social Director on a thousand passenger cruise ship, he had three simple words of advice, that proved to be unbelievably prophetic, “Keep a notebook!”
I came to learn a notebook differs from a diary or a memo pad as it isn’t simply a depository of quick notes, impressions, expressions, and anything else that might occur in the day-to-day dealings with self-important passengers, or locals who considered anyone off the ship was a millionaire and therefore ripe for what they considered petty exploitation, occasionally bordering on grand larceny. You have to remember in most countries I visited, any petty criminals were considered guilty until proven innocent. The mere accusation by a visitor of a misdeed by a local was met with a head bashing, or worse. Everything was quickly jotted down in a notebook I carried in my back pocket, to be expanded upon at a more convenient time after attempting to bail drunken rowdy passengers out of a local jail.
A number of your experiences as well as the famous people you approached seemed to require a bit of nerve, or “chutzpah” on your part. What prompted you to take that path?
I recall two quotes by famous men that when combined result in a major impetus for my life. The first belongs to actor Spencer Tracy who was once asked what makes a great actor. The irascible actor replied, “You say your lines, you get paid, and you don’t bump into the furniture!” Couple that with Henry David Thoreau’s interesting observation, “Most men live lives of quiet desperation…” and you have created a population of boring souls who never step out of line or agree to experience any sort of challenging situation. Much to the chagrin of all who know me, that has never been my reason for living, and it seems most people pursuing lives in show business agree. Hence the result of writing my third book, “…Such Creatures In!”
Considering the title of this your third book, what is it’s derivation?
In Shakespeare’s play The Tempest we are introduced to a magical wizard, Prospero and his virginal daughter named Miranda. So virginal and protected was Prospero’s daughter that he magically arranged for his daughter to never set her eyes on a virile eligible bachelor while living on their small purposely secluded island in the middle of an ocean. One day after a storm, or tempest, unbeknown to him, a group of shipwrecked sailors were thrown up on the beach of his otherwise deserted isle. While wrestling and arguing with each other, Prospero’s wide eyed daughter Miranda pops up from behind a rock and for the first time in her life lays eyes on the gamboling males running amok, and utters the famous words, “Oh brave new world that hath such creatures in!”
Originally, I wanted that entire line to be the title of my book but was told by my publisher it was too long to fit on the spine, along with my name and the publisher’s logo. Hence, the shortened version, “…Such Creatures In!”
As a writer, when did you realize it was always wisest to “speak your truth”?
Prior to accepting a position with a new network called “America’s Talking” an offshoot of cable’s CNBC, I was told the man who ran the network was an arch conservative, just right of Atilla the Hun in his political point of view, named Roger Ailes. I was originally hired to produce one show called “Pork” designed to be an expose of excess government spending on any number of projects and programs. A few weeks into production, Roger called me into his office and said there was a position opening for a network Executive Producer responsible for overseeing the production of eight talk and light entertainment shows. But before awarding me the promotion he wanted to know if “my head was on straight” or not to mince words, a Republican. I told him outright asking such a question was illegal and he replied he was well aware of that, but if I wanted the gig I should answer the damn question. I told him my political affiliation was as a Non-Partisan voter as there were planks of both parties I agreed with, and even more I disagreed with. We chatted about specifics for a few moments, and he decided I was a liberal conservative, whatever that is other than an oxymoron.
“Roger,” I said, speaking my truth, “you can call me anything you want but shithead, but I’m not changing my political affiliations just to get a gig. I can’t do that.” I excused myself politely and left his corner office.
The next day it was announced I would be a new Executive Producer for the America’s Talking Cable Network, responsible for overseeing the production of eight talk shows. I guess Roger was impressed. Not that it mattered much as the network went out of business about a year later and was renamed MSNBC. I suppose the powers that be grew tired of Roger’s blatant political agenda. Rupert Murdoch and Fox News, on the other hand, thought he was gods “fair and balanced” gift to domestic and world news. The rest was history as well as Roger being “amicably” fired from Fox News for philandering with every secretary who entered his office.
Who was the most memorable celebrity you wrote about?
Simply stated the most memorable celebrity, or at least celebrity in her own mind, had to be billboard diva Angelyne. During the eighties and nineties billboards began popping up all across Los Angeles, Hollywood and Beverly Hills primarily, depicting a very buxom young woman, with bright red pouting lips, wearing a skintight latex outfit and oversized sunglasses, sitting or actually leaning seductively against the hood of a hot pink corvette. At the time I was producing a pilot for a game show producer who had won seven Emmy Awards for various popular game shows airing on network television. I was tasked with finding out if Angelyne would be interested in hosting the pilot we were working on. I put the word out that I wanted to meet with her, and after a few days I was contacted by “her people”. They set up a meeting at the Starbucks coffee shop in the Malibu Country Mart, a small shopping center catering to the celebrities residing in the Malibu Colony and environs.
I bought her a large latte and we sat down and talked about the project. She was actually way more verbose than I ever expected and went on and on about her professional film and tv credits as well as her political career – she actually ran for governor of the great state of California garnering a few votes from her fans. She didn’t win, she told me with a pout and a sip of her latte. I thanked her profusely for being so forthcoming. I then casually mentioned I did some research about her prior to our meeting, and I wanted to know if there was any truth to the matter that she was actually born in Poland to Holocaust survivors who survived the Skarzysko-Kamienna concentration camp. She and her family were resettled in Israel after the war, eventually immigrating to the United States settling in Los Angeles’s Fairfax District where she changed her birth name of Ronia Tamar Goldberg, to Renee Tami Goldberg ending up at James Monroe High School in the San Fernando Valley.
Miss Angelyne (née Goldberg) gave me a long cold stare, finished her latte with a slurp, slammed the empty cup on the table with disdain, walked out of the coffee shop, got into her pink Corvette and drove off , burning rubber, as she roared off into the Malibu sunset. Ahhh, Los Angeles, the epicenter of re-invention. You gotta’ love it.
Who or what was the strangest production situation you were ever found involved with?
Without a doubt the strangest group of folks who hired me has to be Vince McMahon and his then called World Wrestling Federation. I was hired to bring their production styles into the 21st Century as the terminology and techniques they used to produce their elaborate shows were all self-taught. In other words, the first person to come in contact with a new piece of equipment or technology simply figured out how to operate it - and coined the terminology to go along with it. The only problem with such creativity is if the WWF attempted to sell their product to another broadcast entity – no one knew what they were talking about. When I pointed out to various people the proper term for a piece of equipment or a television technique, I was told, “That’s not what we call it. You don’t understand our “culture”. Unfortunately neither did any of their broadcast customers or carriers.
Couple their bizarre production techniques, with a cast and crew consisting of an assortment of three-to-five-hundred-pound human behemoths who had the delicacy in the ring of ballet dancers, able to fly through the air – or throw their opponents into a turnbuckle with astounding grace and style. The boys, as they were called, spent their offstage preparation time shaving their underarms or applying all sorts of character makeup in accordance to their characters and appropriate elaborate costumes. The overall milieu of the backstage area seemed reminiscent of a film by Fellini.
The one question that remained with me after realizing my task was futile and rendering my resignation, was simple. How come these huge men and women regardless of how opponents punched, stomped, twisted, threw, or gouged each other – none of these superstars, performing some two hundred to two hundred and fifty nights per year. – never experience a visible physical injury – or even raise the slightest bruise. Imagine that!
Who or what would you consider your most bizarre encounter?
After being elected to president of my school’s alumni association in Los Angeles, I was approached by a couple who was in my graduating class. While in school I knew both of them quite well. The woman appeared with me in a number of shows and was a talented actor and singer. Her husband, a diminutive little fellow possessed a balding pate in spite of his youth. He possessed a rapier wit and made a living in town as a “punch-up” writer, called in to spruce up lagging sitcoms with additional jokes and laughter producing gags.
We hit it off with them and one evening they invited us to their lavish apartment for dinner. After a gourmet meal, the host challenged me to a few rounds of backgammon, very popular at the time and his wife took my wife into their bedroom as she wanted to share something with her. After an hour or so, they returned to the living room, my wife pale as a sheet, asked to go home as she wasn’t feeling very well.
While driving home my wife burst out between hysterical laughter, that the lady of the house supplemented their income by serving as a black latex and leather clad dominatrix – with numerous famous Hollywood males as her clients. Her professional popularity may have explained the late model Mercedes sports car she used to tool around town. The couple also converted part of their garage into a dungeon, available for clients willing to pay quite a bit extra for “specialized treatment” utilizing racks, chains and a trapeze or two.
Truly, the strangest couple we have ever met.
Who was the most threatening celebrity you ever had to deal with?
I was hired by a game show company as a writer for a new version of the Grouch Marx classic television show, “You Bet Your Life”. This version of the show starred comedy legend Buddy Hacket as the host. At first, he was the quintessential professional, always on time and cracking up the staff and crew with his many stories and experiences. The problem was if something didn’t go his way or he wanted to change a facet of the production, he would place his hands on his hips spreading open his sport coat, to reveal a pistol tucked in the waist band of his polyester slacks. As if the sight of a gun wasn’t threatening enough, he would then add, with his blubbering delivery, “Do as I say, or I’ll blow your fucking balls off!” Couldn’t really argue with that.
Who would you say was the nicest celebrity you ever had to deal with?
Prior to the birth of my daughter almost forty years ago, my wife was scheduled for a new state-of-the-art procedure at the time, at the Cedars Sinai Medical Center in Beverly Hills, called “Ultra-Sound”. In the waiting room, the nurse, with a personality of Nurse Ratchet from One Flew Overed the Cuckoo’s Nest presented us with seven small bottles of Evian water on a tray and said my wife had to drink them all without urinating, within the next sixty minutes. Like in any bizarre situation we both started laughing uncontrollably.
A pleasant looking woman was sitting in a far corner of the waiting room, who was also well on her way of downing her seven bottles of Evian. She raised her frosty plastic bottle to us as a toast, and we all started laughing once again. She too was quite pregnant, rose laboriously and walked over and sat down with her tray of waters on the sofa next to my wife. The two of them got on immediately laughing and chortling as they downed the bottles of water, both starting to act as if they were drinking straight gin or vodka.
Eventually Nurse Ratchet reappeared and asked my wife’s new best friend if she had finished drinking all her water – and actually shook each bottle to make sure they were empty. Convinced they were, she then said, “Okay Mrs. Presley, follow me please.”
My wife, feeling characteristically bold asked, “Mrs. Presley? In that as in Priscilla?” and started laughing once again at her clever joke.
Unfazed, Mrs. Presley turned to my wife and said, with a wink and pleasant smile “Yes, it is.” And she dutifully followed the cranky nurse out of the waiting room.
My wife and I looked at each other and in shocked amazement realized we had just been cavorting with Priscilla Presley, ex-wife of The King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley.
You have interviewed and worked with hundreds of people in the course of your long career, who would you say was the most memorable.
Without a doubt the strangest and most memorable interview I ever had was with a young fellow who was cast as a contestant on The Dating Game. At the time I was the head writer and one of my duties was interviewing the contestants just prior to their appearance for an interesting fact about their life we could use as a talking point when being interviewed by our host at the beginning of the show.
This one bespeckled, pimply young lad had nothing. Talking to him was like, to use the cliché, playing racquet ball against a mattress. As much as I dug and inquired and questioned, he couldn’t think of anything. Finally as a Hail Mary, I told the kid if he couldn’t think of anything interesting we might have to replace him on the show. This threat seemed to prod his memory, and finally, he said in a monotone, “My mother thought I was a tumor.”
“Say that again.” I asked, not sure I had heard him correctly.
“Before I was born, my mother thought I was a tumor.” he said again, not cracking the slightest smile or exhibiting a modicum of personality, he wasn’t joking.
Keeping my laughter in check I ran out and found the senior producer and told him about the kid’s answer.
“That’s gold, you idiot! Book him immediately before he forgets his name!” screamed the senior producer, laughing like a maniac. The rest was history.