THE FORTUNE CHRONICLES   Part Three:  NEW YORK            Page One
by Joe Bonelli   (Copywright 2001 by Joseph H. Bonelli)

After the closing of the Los Angeles production of FORTUNE, I decided to leave L.A. and go to New York in hopes of landing a job with the New York company.  I said farewell to my roommate Bobby Redding who had taken over the role of “Queenie” -- first as a replacement understudy who got me “kicked upstairs” when he took over my understudy position, and then from Michael Greer when he left the L.A. production.
Bobby would come to New York later in the run to take over for Michael there. I started driving to Mississippi, but my car died in the desert near Palm Springs.Undaunted, I sold the car, shipped my things, and set out via thumb.  I was given a ride by a fabulous Tex-Mex car-repossessor named Tony Ortega and spent an interesting half-week touching that profession  (a story for another time!!) until Tony deposited me in San Antonio, Texas.  I thumbed on to New Orleans, eventually made it home,  bussed north to visit a friend in Minnesota and then thumbed to New York, arriving about two or three days before the New York production was scheduled to open.

I walked into a rehearsal and was welcomed by all.  
Unfortunately, there was no opening at the moment, but 24-hours later when I stopped by, I was taken backstage and shown the sound equipment.  Within a short time, I was esconsed with earphones, a cue-d script, and the superb soundtrack created for the New York production of Fortune, by the studio of Gary & Timmy Harris.  It was a good thing I had sat through the preview the night before (which I liked, with reservations), because I
was backstage and at work on the production from that moment.
  
The New York production of Fortune, was very different from that in L.A. 
The atmosphere was completely different.  Whereas in L.A. the play takes place in a seedy, falling-down  dusky-gray jail cell and surroundings (designed by Conrad Penrod), the N.Y. set (by Alan Kimmel) was a spanking-new state-of-the-art (circa 1970), gleaming (thanks to a  brilliant lighting design by up-and-comer Ken Billington) pastel-green nouveau-institutional cage.  What went on in this new cell was quite different, too.  
Sal had had thoughts about the play and had modified much in this new production.  For one thing (and, I think, the most important, thing), the rape scene in Act One had been lengthened.  Originally designed as a thirty-second shocker, the scene had become finely honed in L.A. to bring home the horror of the moment when this relatively innocent young man is brutalized and set on the course that will change him into a “product of the environment.”  But Sal had extended the scene by turning it into a naked struggle under the water that lasted about three minutes.  I personally believe that the scene’s power was blunted by these
changes.  

The cast, with the exception of one leading character, was completely
different.  I will not say one cast or the other was “better” for that is simply not true.  I do believe, however, that the cast as a whole, throughout the run of both productions, blended better in the Los Angeles production.  (I realize my bias having worked so intimately on the continuation of this production throughout the run).  

Sal Mineo did not, of course, act in this production.  The role  played in
Los Angeles by Sal, the character of “Rocky”, was taken  Bartholomew Miro Jr., a  member of the cast of the New York original production of HAIR.  Bart was a very different Rocky, effective but without the intensity that the more charismatic Mineo had brought to the part.