THE FORTUNE CHRONICLES PART TWO b.

A number of interesting things happened during the run of the play. Sal's sweet and beautiful Weimeraner dog Dov (named, of course, for his rolein Exodus), was a regular member of our theatre family.  He stayed in Sal's dressing room during performances. 

At the beginning of the third act of Fortune, it is Christmas Eve and regulations in the prison are relaxed. The cell door stands open as Queenie
and Mona rehearse their parts in the Prison Christmas Show.  The Guard sits on stage watching and everyone is relaxed and human for the only time in the play. As Queenie (can't remember if it was Greer or Redding---Queenie got upstaged for once!!!!) was spouting some comedic spiel, into the cell wandered the gorgeous dog.  He looked around and trotted over to Sal to be petted. Tom Reese, in total character as the Guard, jumped up and sternly called to the dog. "Dov!!! Dov Landau!!!  What are you doing out of the office???  Get back to the office right now!!"  Dov looked at Tom and wagged his tale.  Tom said, not unkindly but sternly: " Now!!! Go on back to the office NOW!!! DOV!!" The dog wagged his tale and trotted obediently off stage where we grabbed him and took him back to the "office," in this case, Sal's dressing room.
Tom had taken a moment that could have broken down the  barrier between audience and player, between reality and theatrical illusion of reality, and instinctively and professionally, turned it into a believable stage moment that NO ONE in the audience knew wasn't a regular part of the show. This takes real control.  Tom Reese, sadly no longer with us, is the finest example of that "plug-away-at-it" character actor that is the backbone of the film, tv and theatre world.  You see these guys all the time, yet can't call their name.  They are totally dependable, believable in many roles though essentially the same, and WORK ALL THE TIME!!!!!!

As much as I revere the memory of Sal and the friendly working relationships with one-day-to-be-stars Don Johnson and Tommy Lee Jones that I had during my two runs with Fortune, it is "Tom Reese" that, as an actor, I long to be. The Tom Reeses are the backbone of the acting industry. I guarantee you that all of you who watch ANY old television regularly, would recognize this guy's face INSTANTLY!!!! He was a real pro!!

Before Sal stopped performing the role of Rocky, he took a week off to go to Hawaii and attend the World Premiere of his latest film (which he did solely for the money), a dreadful, big-budget mishmash called KRAKATOA, EAST OF JAVA (later retitled VOLCANO--- it didn't help!).  This monumental waste of talent such as Sal and Maximilian Schell, had been filmed in the gigantic widescreen process known as Cinerama----a process that can ONLY be experienced properly in a theatre performance---telling about it doesn't work! When Sal returned, he told us that he hated the picture so much that he stood up in the middle and yelled out:  "This is the worst piece of s--t I've ever seen in my life!!" and walked out!!! While it makes a great story, it is NOT the sort of thing that encouraged mainstream Hollywood to slip Sal back into the fold.

Shortly thereafter, Sal was invited to the Hollywood premiere (I guess they never learn!!) of the same film at the Cinerama Dome on Sunset Boulevard near Vine Street.  The event was to be covered by The Steve Allen Show, at the time a typical interview and entertainment syndicated show, co-hosted by that great musician and Tonight Show pioneer, and his wife, actress Jayne Meadows.
Sal conceived a great publicity stunt for the premiere.  He got some off duty cops (amazing, considering...well, you'll see) and a medium-sized, plain van. Then he got Tom  Reese and his understudy together and they handcuffed Sal and the rest of the cast, Bobby, Gary and Don, together, and off they went.
As they piled into the back of the van and started for the Dome---about three or four miles away-- the rest of us prepared for the evening's performance as usual. Later Bobby told me what ensued..
As the van pulled away, Sal suggested that the four in the van (the two "guards" were up front), share his smoke (NOT one of his Kool's) and off they roared!!! We got the stage ready quickly and piled into the bar to see the arrival, which was on live tv in Southern California.  When the van pulled up with a POLICE ESCORT, no one quite knew what was going on.  Then, out steps Sal WITH THREE GUYS (rather space-y, it seemed!) HANDCUFFED to him!!!  Jayne Meadows had no choice but to interview Sal and have him introduce the others.  Steve Allen asked bemused questions from somewhere in limbo.  I remember Bobby looking around, wondering where that voice was coming from. In the bar at the theatre, we were all on the floor in hysterics. They got back in the van and roared away.  By this time, we had an audience assembling and it took the cast awhile to return.  It got to be 15 minutes after curtain was due to go up and they still weren't back.  We had explained to the audience what was going on and they were patient, but beginning to squirm. At last, after another ten or so minutes, I spotted the still escorted van coming down La Cieniga Boulevard.  I waved them down and directed them to the side of the theatre where a big double door opened directly into the auditorium, by the stage right proscenium arch. I threw open the doors and said to Sal and the three STONED actors:  "You're ON!!!" and ran in shouting, "They're coming! They're coming!! He's bringing 'em back!!!" Sal and company entered, crossed amidst relieved applause that they didn't acknowledge (of course), and entered the stage via the stage left into-the-audience stairs.  They went upstage to the cell entrance, were locked in by The Guard (Reese) and the show began!!! Except for a few bobbled lines at the beginning, the performance was teriffic!!!! The audience LOVED being in on this gigantic Hollywood joke!!!! During the course of the run, we became acquainted with a film director who specialized in second-unit work (going out and filming backgrounds, etc.) named Michael Coyte.  Michael owned an apartment building above the Sunset Strip, near the Whisky-a-Go-Go.  We often went there as a large group for after performance parties.  Lots of other young Hollywood folk would come. Teddy, Timmy and Mickey Rooney Jr. were regulars.  Coyte had a 16-mm projector (no video tapes in those days, folks!) and would show films.  We would eat (great buffet spreads!!) and drink (booze!! booze!! booze!!) andwatch a movie.  On a particular off-night Monday we all congregated at Coyte's for an Academy Award party.
One day Micheal Coyte ran into Sal at the grocery.  He invited us all over that night for a gathering, saying he had rented a Mineo movie and we would all have a blast.
Sal didn't bother to tell us.  Only he and one other went.  Michael was stuck with tons of food.
When he asked Sal where everyone was, Sal said, "Here!!" It turned out that Sal didn't want to sit through (and hear comments from all of us, about) TONKA!!! (Sorry, folks!  Sal hated TONKA!)

Early one evening I stopped at the Rexall store where I got props for the show and where we all ate regularly in the coffee shop. I was exiting through the coffee shop with my package when I saw Sal at a table.  He waved me over to join him and a handsome young man. "This is David," he said.  We all had coffee and, as it was raining (most unusual) Sal asked if I could take him to the theatre in my car and drop David at his.  "Sure," I said. I dropped Sal and took David to his car.  David had seen the show and enjoyed it.  I invited him back to join us for some after-theatre socializing, but he stated that he really didn't like to hang around shows unless he was in them. (This is TOTALLY understandable to anyone in the theatre.  No matter how welcome you seem, it is always a family that you are not a part of.) I dropped David off and returned to the theatre. About a year and a half later I was in Mississippi and happened to see a familiar looking young guy on an episode of The FBI.  I was talking to Sal on the phone soon after and mentioned that I had seen this kid, and wondered if he was the same David I had met. "That's right," said Sal.  "He's up for a series." He was indeed.  Not long after, the series premiered and EVERYONE (the young girls, at least!!!) in America knew David Cassidy!!! Don Johnson went on vacation for a week while Sal was out of town.  At the time, Don had no understudy, so it was agreed that Mona's understudy, a young guy named Michael Tracy, would learn Smitty's part and go on for the week Don was out.  Unfortunately, the odds caught up with everyone. At the week's first performance on Tuesday, the crucial, choreographed fight scene involving the four prisoners, went awry.  Gary Tigerman, playing Mona, received an eye injury.  Bobby Redding playing Queenie, cut his back on a coathook and required stitches. They were both out by doctor's orders, for the rest of the week. Fortunately, no one else was hurt, and Bobby's understudy Robin (can't remember his last name!) went on as Queenie,  but there was now NO actor to play Mona, as Michael Tracy, Mona's understudy, was playing Smitty.. Lenny Marsal, the stage manager, came to me on Wednesday morning.  Did I think I could step into the role and play it for the rest of the week? Having worked on, by now, about 200 performances and having conducted about 100 understudy rehearsals, I felt I could pull it off. So, on I went and, if I say so myself, did a pretty good job of the role. The truth is, I found my part in Fortune.  Mona was an excellent role for me and, I believe if I had lost some weight, that I could have had a good crack at it for New York.  Many in the company said they were very impressed with my interpretation of the role. But, I tell ya!!!!  When you are being slapped around for two hours by several people who are louder and bigger than you, it is NOT hard to react in character!!! My big regrets were that Sal didn't get to see me (though he told me that he heard glowing things and was proud and the he knew I could do it anyway!) , and that I didn't have the sense to say to him:  "Okay, I saved the show. Now you owe it to me to put me on in ONE performance with you and the rest of the originals in the last two weeks run."  I think he would have done it if I had asked. Oh, well!!!! Regrets! This, folks, is the perfect example of "The show must go on!" About a month or six weeks before the show closed, a young couple came to the show. They were Kenneth Waissman and Maxine Fox who were from New York, and who were forming a production team.  They were interested in a New York production of Fortune, as their maiden voyage as a producing team. (This started a pattern with Waissman/Fox of finding already existing properties, honing them, and bringing them to New York.  More in Part Three!!) As the show had evolved drastically from its opening, there was no working script.  Stage Manager Lennie Marsal and I spent an entire night in an office, dictating the script from an original and laboriously constructing a "blow-by-blow" description of the production as it existed at the time. Ken and Maxine took the script and went back to New York to find backers. Moe Weiss and his co-producer, Sal's manager Phil Gitelman (wonderful man!!!) decided that the show had run its course by about the beginning of July, 1968.  The decision was made to close the show.  They decided to invite the original cast back (including Sal, of course) to complete the run. Roger Garrett was unable to do so but Don Johnson (who had also left a few weeks before), Tom Reese, Gary Tigerman and Michael Greer, finished the run triumphantly, a few weeks later. It was during this period that I fetched Don Johnson from his exit to see the man walking on the moon.. It was also during this last run that we were shocked and horrified over the brutal murders of Sharon Tate and her friends, and that of the LaBianca family shortly thereafter, by the minions of the monster of the era, one Charles Manson. We all wondered if any of us had crossed paths with any of this strange "family." In Hollywood, we probably did!! The Los Angeles production of Fortune and Men's Eyes was a milestone in the American theatre.  Never before had a person pranced about nude onstage, let alone simulated a sex act. But the show that had shocked at first was, a few short months later, being patronized by intelligent high school groups.  Parents and administrators had decided that the message was too important to ignore. Bobby Redding and I moved to the Valley. Then I decided that I would go back to Mississippi and New Orleans for awhile. Yet, always in the back of my mind, was the idea that I belonged with Fortune in New York. And that's where I wound up. 

After hitchhiking across the country!!!!!  Halfway south!!!  Halfway north!!!! And by mid-September of 1969, I walked into the door of Stage 73  on Third Avenue in New York, a couple of preview nights before the official opening of Sal Mineo's Fortune and Men's Eyes!! They had no job for me. But, twenty-four hours later, they did. I sat, once again, at the sound board, and prepared for another run. But that's   ANOTHER story!!!!

Read the next installment of the Fortune Chronicles