A TRUE STORY...IN NOT SO FEW WORDS
I
grew up in Waukegan, Illinois, an industrial, blue-collar town on Lake Michigan
about forty miles north of Chicago. In addition to having a deep harbor
suitable for cargo ships and a yacht harbor patronized by yachters throughout
the area because of its reasonable fees, Waukegan is also noted for being the
former home of writer Ray Bradbury, actor Jerry Orbach, comedian and legend
Jack Benny, and the family of actor Vincent Price. In fact, the Price mansions
on Grand Avenue were just a few blocks from my home (my aunt used to live in
one of them after it had been converted to very small apartments) and urban
legend has it that a small graveyard was on the estate, just a few feet from
the sidewalk. Really? Well, all I can say for certain is that there was an area
surrounded by high bushes that looked
like a small graveyard (are those gravestones?). But I digress. (I often do
that. I also change tenses frequently when telling stories. It's a blog, not a
literary masterpiece. Sue me.)
Waukegan's
community theatre group was called Waukegan Community Players, or as everyone
called it, Players or WCP. When I was involved with the group, they typically
produced a season of two plays, one musical and a "bonus" show that
was not part of the official season. The regular shows ran for two weekends;
the bonus show for one. Like theatre groups everywhere, and the industry
itself, Players was rife with politics and favoritism. (Don't start.You know exactly what I'm talking about.) And
like theatre groups everywhere, and the industry itself, Players had its share
of talented folks and its share of untalented folks, who, nevertheless, were
often involved with or cast in productions due to the reigning political landscape.
I bring all of this up because I was so not a member of the inner circle.
I was, and am, opinionated (me??), was vocal about it and did not walk the Players
line. So it was somewhat of a shock when I was chosen to direct Cactus Flower as the first show of
Players' 24th season and the premiere production at its new home in the North
Chicago High School auditorium, a comfortable, mid-sized space with a raked
orchestra and raised mezzanine. Totally unexpected and to this day, I'm not
sure why I got the gig. Again, I digress….
In
the fall of 1979, something else, far more exciting than my upcoming production
of Cactus Flower, was going on. Robert
Redford was filming Ordinary People
in the northern Chicago suburbs, primarily in nearby Lake Forest. In the film,
the characters played by Mary Tyler Moore (brilliant in the role) and Donald
Sutherland (ditto) are seen attending a community theatre production. At the
time, Cactus Flower was the only show
in the area getting ready to open. We were totally gobsmacked when we found out
that the Ordinary People people
wanted to check out our little community theatre production. Like
immediately. Well, this was during the
week of our opening, a very hectic period for any show, but you just don't say
'no' when Hollywood calls, so we arranged to have the OP people come to the final dress.
Final
dress. About twenty minutes into the first act, the OP contingent arrived, including, to our surprise, Robert Redford, and
discreetly took seats mid-orchestra. About thirty minutes later, and just as
discreetly, they left with the exception of R.R. who stood quietly in the
shadows of the lobby door. Why is he standing there?, I thought, not taking the
subtle hint. My best friend and
assistant director, Pat, however, did get it, gave me a sharp nudge and
whispered, "I think he wants to talk to you." Me?
Robert Redford wants to talk to me? Deep breath. I walked up to
him, stuck out my hand, and said, in what I hoped was a breezy, casual,
what?-I-have-to-talk-to-another-star? voice, "Hi, I'm Jeff Geddes. I'm
the director." R.R. smiles and
shakes my hand and says, "Bob Redford." (Well, duh!)
We chatted for a few minutes about the play and some logistics before he
wished me a good opening and started to leave. But then, he stopped, turned
back and asked, "Do you act?"
Whoa! Where did that come
from? I shrugged and replied, "Well, I don't act, as in for a living, but
I've done some stuff in the area, plays, musicals, that sort of
thing." R.R. smiled, said goodbye,
exited and I returned to watching our final dress.
A
couple of days later, I got a call from a woman who identified herself as the
casting director for OP. Lovely, I
thought to myself, why is she calling me?
Well, I found out. "Mr. Redford would like to know if you'd be
interested in reading for him for a small part in Ordinary People."
Sorry? "Uh, sure," I
somehow managed to get out. Casting Director: "Oh, good. He'll be so
pleased." Sorry?? Casting Director: "I know this is short
notice, but would this Wednesday be good for you?" Me: "Uh, sure. Fine." Casting Director: "Wonderful. Just go the south door at
Lake Forest High School at, say, 4? We'll see you then!" Sorry???
Wednesday,
4:00 PM. Lake Forest High School. Not quite sure if this was a joke or not, I
showed up promptly at 4 and gave my name to the doorkeeper, who, much to my
surprise, checked my name off a list and told me which room to go to. After a
few minutes, I meet the casting director. Casting Director: "I tried to reach you, but you must have
already left. Bob's running a bit late. Would you mind waiting?" Me: "Not a problem." Casting Director: "Oh, good." Time ticked by and it was time for yours
truly to visit the men's room. You know where this is headed, right? Mid-poop.
A knock on the door. "Jeff? Bob's
ready to see you now." Awkward! I'm shown to his Winnebago. Inside is R.R.,
the casting director and a few other people. All of them, except Casting
Director, are eating take-out. It's a bit surreal. Me: "Hi, Mr.
Redford." R.R.: "Hey, Jeff. Nice
to see you again. What something to eat?" Me: "Uh, no
thanks." (What?) R.R. "Did Name-of-Casting-Director tell
you about the part I'd like you to read for?" Casting Director: "Oh, my God. I got so
busy with that other thing, I completely forgot to fill Jeff in. I'm so
sorry." Me: "Uh, that's
okay." (As you can tell, I've got an eloquent way with words.) R.R.: "Well, Jeff, I'd like you to read
for the Choir Director. Are you familiar with the story?" I nod yes,
having the good sense to do a quick read of the novel before going to this. R.R.:
"Well, Conrad (the Timothy Hutton role) likes the Choir Director and choir
is important to him. Your scenes would be with Tim and the choir. " I am handed some pages of dialogue. All total
maybe 25 or so lines for the Choir Director. R.R.:"Do you want some time
to look these over?" I glance over them. Me: "No, I'm
good." (What? I'm not good. I'm
usually terrible at cold readings. And, no, I'm not being modest or
self-effacing. I suck at cold readings.)
So it starts. Casting Director, or was it someone else?, reads with me. R.R.
stops me a few times, gives me some direction (okay…like, wow. I'm getting direction from Robert Redford. What the hell?), and asks me to read some bits
again, incorporating his suggestions. And then, it's over. R.R. thanks me for
coming, I mumble my thanks and leave, not at all sure what just happened.
Two
days later I get a call from a very chipper Casting Director who offers me the
part of the Choir Director. Huh? Well, okay, then. Poor Cactus Flower, however, doesn't make it. Logistics, she explains,
couldn't be worked out. (As it turns out, in the final cut of the movie, the
scene at the community theatre performance is only a few seconds long.) From
that point, things moved forward. Somewhere along the line, I signed a contract
and met with the costumer to get measured. And then I waited…and waited…and
waited. Finally, about six weeks later, I got the call requesting my presence
at the high school.
Filming
Day! After checking in with the
doorkeeper, I'm escorted to a long trailer behind the school. There, on one of
the doors, is my name! I have my own
dressing room!! Wowzer! I'm barely in the door when a makeup person comes in
and does her thing, followed by a costuming assistant who does his thing and
then followed by a production assistant who invites me to get some food since
things are running a bit behind. The food was tasty, but no time to savor it,
though, because mid-bite, the production assistant comes back and says:
"Bob's ready for you." I'm
taken to the choir room where R.R. is sitting on top of a table and watching
the real choir director rehearse the choir. Timothy Hutton is not there, but a
somewhat familiar-looking man is standing by the piano. R.R. sees me, smiles,
waves me over and pats the table next to him. R.R., as I sit next to him:
"Hi, Jeff. Nice to see you again."
Me: "Hi, Mr. Redford." R.R.: "Please, call me Bob."
(Okay, seriously, "Call me Bob?”)
We chat for a bit about the part, the choir stops rehearsing and goes on a break.
R.R. calls over the familiar-looking man. R.R.: "Marvin, this is Jeff
Geddes. He'll be playing the Choir Director. Jeff, this is Marvin
Hamlisch.." Oh, yikes! Big fan!
And I tell him so. God, I am such a dork! But wait, it gets dorkier. The three of us
are chatting away when I look up and standing in the doorway are … my parents!! Yep. I don't know how, but somehow Barb and
Cliff managed to convince everyone to let them in to see their darling boy on
the set. (To be truthful, my dad could charm honey out of a very angry bee,
so…) Bob, yes, I'd started calling him Bob, sees the look of horror on my face
and when I tell him about my unexpected visitors, he jumps off the table, asks
to meet them and that's how Barb and Cliff hobnobbed, albeit briefly, with Robert
Redford and Marvin Hamlisch. I was mortified. Bob and Marvin thought it was
adorable. We talked some more, but then something unexpected came up and the
shooting schedule had to be changed. We wouldn't be shooting my stuff that day.
I was sent home and told shooting would be sometime the next day (a Saturday).
Well,
that didn't happen. A production assistant called me early the next afternoon
to tell me the bad news. As near as I could figure out, that morning the high
school choir members had a major hissy fit because their choir director
wasn't going to be used and apparently threw a collective temper tantrum. End
result? I was out; the real choir
director was in. But, I would get two days pay and was thanked profusely for
being so understanding and professional about this strange turn of events. And
with that, my budding film career was nipped. Ah, well.
Footnote:
Make no mistake. This was a bit part, yet, as written, it added a little
something to the film. Or would have had the scenes made the final cut. Oh, the
choir and the choir director were in the film, for about three seconds and the
choir director did yell something to the choir, but actual dialogue? Actual
scenes? No. I'd like to think if I'd played the part, the final cut of Ordinary People would be a minute or so
longer. Jeff, a bit vain, you ask?
Probably. Sue me.
And that's the conclusion of our VERY SPECIAL BLOG POST. Tune in next time for more ... Remembrances of Performances Past.
