What's in Room 101...

The words that all professional writers dread to hear most of all from amateur writers: "I've got this INCREDIBLE idea for a [novel/script] and it'll make us both MILLIONAIRES!!!!!"

The Mystery of Tipping

If we are all expected to unfailingly tip waiters, why aren't they expected to fork over at least five or six bucks if they give us shitty service?

The Mystery of "Greased Lightnin'"

Has there ever been a fouler song that reached more young, impressionable minds than "Greased Lightning" from GREASE? It's wonderful and I mean that without a trace of irony. "It ain't no shit, we'll be gettin' lotsa tit" must have won the hearts and minds of moms, aunts, and grandmas worldwide who were conned into seeing GREASE back in '78. If that wasn't enough "You are supreme, the chicks'll cream," or "I ain't braggin', it's a real pussy wagon!" I know that I'm not the first to point all of this out, but it's still kind of astounding.

In elementary school, I watched as two (female) classmates perform a softened version of "Greased Lightning" in a schoolwide talent show. I once heard "Greased Lightning" played during a fireworks show-- the lyrics had been significantly censored-- "You are supreme... You are supreme"-- not "The chicks'll cream." Better still, in recent network screenings, various words were transposed and Travolta sang "Ain't no floor, I'll be gettin' lotsa door with Greased Lightnin'!" Yet they didn't feel compelled to cut out the "pussy wagon" line.

Amazing.

Go, Greased Lightnin'!

Finley the Magnificent

Here's a photo that I took of William Finley after dinner a few years ago in New York. His expression says it all-- that's Finley's disposition, all the way. He was a dear man.

R.I.P. William Finley

I just received the deeply saddening news that actor William Finley-- the Phantom of the Paradise himself-- died yesterday following surgery. Finley was a ridiculously talented character actor who excelled at playing the weirdest of the weird--  which he LOVED doing (He told me that he hated playing normal characters, especially lawyers). His long-standing association with Brian De Palma produced some extraordinary performances: as Woton, the Vincent Price-ian anti-hero of WOTON'S WAKE, Winslow Leach/The Phantom in PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE, Dr. Breton in SISTERS, and the disfigured madman in THE BLACK DAHLIA. Bill was also exceptionally good in EATEN ALIVE ("Why don't you just put a cigarette out in my EYE?!?"), THE FUNHOUSE, and every other damn thing he was in. He was a dear man and I enjoyed interviewing him and dining with him immensely. He should have been the  modern Peter Lorre... Amazing actor, and a wonderful man.

The Irreplaceable Mr. Fuest-- R.I.P. Robert Fuest

Only minutes ago, I received the incredibly saddening news that British director Robert Fuest has died. Bob was a good friend, and one of the most engaging, funny, upbeat, and imaginative people that I've ever known. On the cover of the French DVD of Bob's film THE FINAL PROGRAMME, the movie is listed as part of a series called "Les Films Inclassables"-- "Unclassifiable Films." Bob's movies WERE that, and much, much more. But Bob himself was very classifiable: pure gold.

Bob's films were wildly stylish, unbelievably inventive, and backed up with a solid grounding in art and design. He never had to resort to aping other people's work-- like the other maverick English directors of his time, Bob created his own visual language. There never has been and never will be another Bob Fuest.

Shortly after my father died, Bob sent me his personal shooting script to THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES as a gift, and inscribed it "This is my script to Dr. Phibes which I think you should have (and I'm sure that Dr. Phibes would, too)." I nearly wept when it arrived-- it was the gesture of loving gentleman and true friend. He is irreplaceable.

Random Groucho story

While I was doing research about George Pal, I got to be friendly with one of his screenwriters, the late Joe Morhaim. Before he did any screenwriting, Joe worked in PR, wrote for TV Guide, and worked in early TV with, among others, Groucho Marx. Like so many others, Joe said that Groucho wasn't easy to work with (hence "Groucho"), but he really loosened up while they were out on the town. At one point, Groucho lit Joe's cigarette with a gorgeous silver lighter. Joe complimented Groucho on it, and Groucho replied, "You like it? Keep it." Joe was taken aback. "Groucho, can I be frank with you?" he asked. "Sure," Groucho said. "You know, when we're out like this, you're such a good-natured, pleasant guy. But you're really hard to work with." "Then gimme the lighter back!" Groucho said. "Fuck you!" Joe told him. And after that, Groucho treated him beautifully. Joe said that they traveled to Arizona together and Groucho used to call him and sing. I envy Joe.