Positive Memories and Impressions of Jacqueline Bisset

I was dismayed to see all the negative comments and ridicule directed at Jacqueline Bisset ever since she gave her admittedly unfocused, slightly profane, and eccentric acceptance speech at Sunday's Golden Globe awards for winning Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Series, Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television for the BBC drama "Dancing on the Edge" (2013).  A lot of people on the internet commented that they thought she was unintelligent, inebriated, haughty and crazy.  And I'm not here to criticize people who might have reacted that way because I certainly have negative reactions to the way other celebrities have behaved when they rub me the wrong way.  (But, usually, to evoke my ire, it takes more than just three minutes of rambling talk to get me to hate a celebrity.)  It just saddened me that, to a lot of people, that may be their only impression of Jacqueline Bisset because I dealt with her personally several years ago when I was working on a book interviewing actresses of the 1960s.  Because of the prolificacy of her career, having worked with some major directors and leading men, Bisset was probably the most successful of all the actresses I interviewed.  I sincerely appreciated that she agreed to let me interview her.  I also will never forget how she treated me with respect, always regarded me as a grown up adult, and never condescended to me the way other actresses did.

The thing about her, which I think the public may have forgotten or may have gotten the wrong impression of this week, is that she was one of the most intelligent, thoughtful, articulate individuals I have ever encountered in my life.  It took awhile before we could actually set up the interview.  She received my query letter in the mail and called me personally on the phone to chat about it.  After a few minutes of allowing me to explain who I was, what I was trying to accomplish, and who else I had interviewed, she agreed to do the interview.  I offered to send her some questions in advance, which other actresses had demanded so that they would know what I would be asking, but Bisset said that that was not necessary.  The impression I came away with was that, if there was a question I might have asked that she didn't like, she felt confident enough to be able to handle it by being direct with me about it and decline answering it.  It was a refreshing contrast to other actresses who seemed uptight with me about what subjects I might bring up that they gave the impression that they wouldn't be able to know how to deal with it and, as a result, they often acted in a weird, evasive manner with me concerning what topics I might pose to them.  I am sincere when I say that I've dealt with actresses who are truly weird, crazy, self-centered, narcissistic, airheaded, delusional, and pretentious...and Jacqueline Bisset was not one of them.

Over the next few months, she stayed in contact with me and let me know when she thought she would be in Los Angeles so we could try and schedule the interview.  One time, I received a voice message from her when she was staying in London.  She had finished a film in Europe, and thought she would be back in town by that point, but decided to stop over in London, if I remember correctly, to visit with her brother.  She apologized she had not returned when she had originally said she would, gave me an approximate date as to when she thought she would be back in town, and asked me to follow-up with her then.  This might not seem like much, but it was a stark contrast to some other actresses who would play games and not be forthcoming as to their intent and purpose with regards to trying to schedule time for me to interview them.

When I finally did schedule an interview with her, she called the day before we were to meet because she had come down with a cold and had laryngitis.  She apologized sincerely and asked me to get in touch with her in a week to reschedule.  Before we ended the call, I distinctly remember her barely being able to speak anymore, but she said, "Thank you for understanding.  Please forgive me."  I remember being surprised she even said that because other 1960s-era actresses I dealt with would never have bothered considering whether cancelling at the last minute might have caused an inconvenience.  Eventually, weeks later, we did do the interview at her home one afternoon, where she served me tea and I spoke with her for almost three hours.  What I remember most is the fact that she started the interview talking at length about her parents--her father was a Scottish doctor and her mother was a French attorney--and how she missed them and how they taught her strong values that have helped her hold onto the priorities that are important to her and not lose her identity while working in show business.

At one point, when we were discussing European film directors of the 1960s, she seemed surprised that someone my age had heard of them because I was so young.  I told her that my father--who passed away a year and a half ago from battling lung cancer but who was a Chinese opera musician--was kind of a renaissance man who instilled in his kids an appreciation for the arts and for politics and history and current events.  She asked me, "Don't you miss being able to talk with him like that?"  At the time, he was still alive so I told her, "I see him all the time!"  She responded by saying "You're lucky, you really are" and described to me how she misses her conversations with her father, how engaged he was about life and about other people, and she reminded me to always appreciate my parents and family.  After my father passed away, her words resonated with me even more deeply than before.  She was not narcissistic because she often talked about other people in her life who had made a great impression on her, in stark contrast to some other 1960s-era actresses who only talked with me about themselves.  At one point, she even sort of turned the interview around on me and started asking me about more of my life and background, my experiences in college, and asking about how young people now behave in social settings because she was fascinated with how the dating and courtship rituals have changed since when she was a teenager and in her 20s.  (I remember having to steer the conversation back to discussing her and her career, as I didn't want to use up my limited time with her by talking that much about myself!)

I found her to be a very substantial and thoughtful person, with no ego.  It was interesting that some people, who saw the speech, interpreted from her mannerisms and gestures that she was egotistical, which surprised me, because she was one of the least self-aggrandizing actresses I ever dealt with.  At one point, when I was telling her about dealing with other actresses who had a negative opinion about some of the actresses I already interviewed, and as a result didn't want to be associated with them by being in my book, she explained why she agreed to do the interview.  She explained that, even if she hadn't heard of everyone I had interviewed, she reasoned that she didn't know, or work with, or watched the work of, everybody who was working back in the 1960s, and it wasn't up to her to judge the career accomplishments of others.  Bisset fully acknowledged that, to a significant portion of the population, the other women I interviewed are indeed important and accomplished actresses.  She agreed to do the interview because she thought the subject I was writing about had merit, and she didn't let the fact that she wasn't familiar with all the actresses I had interviewed deter her from speaking with me (which other actresses had or, at the very least, made a fuss over).

I do admit that I was surprised that Bisset wasn't more prepared on Sunday night when she gave her speech, because she was always so articulate and thoughtful and insightful about not only her career, but also about how Hollywood has changed during the course of her career.  Bisset was someone who clearly understood the business aspect of show business, which I realized other actresses I dealt with rarely grasped because the others appeared flighty with regards to how they handled their careers and finances.  I always found her one of the shrewdest and most media savvy of any actress I dealt with because she definitely was conscientious about how the media had changed over the last several decades.  I also felt, based on my dealings with her, that Bisset is a realist who does not have any delusions about herself or her career.  So I don't know what to make of the speech she gave.  I think what happened on Sunday night could best be described as a "perfect storm" where, despite her best efforts, everything came together in a way that was less than ideal the moment her name was announced as the winner.  That being said, my impression is that Jacqueline Bisset is a very genuine human being.  There were no airs, calculation, or subterfuge about her and, whenever she spoke, it was always in a very sincere and honest and unaffected manner.  I think, if her speech struck people as "strange," it's because she wasn't putting on airs at all, and she was being completely unfiltered.  I think she was just surprised she had won and, according to her later statements, she hadn't expected her category to come up so soon in the program.  That, combined with the fact that they seated her so far from the stage, contributed to the "deer in the headlights" quality that people seem to be responding to.  I also believe that, the fact she didn't have a speech prepared, undermines the comments of some individuals who thought she was behaving like a diva.  Having known other frustrated actresses who are still waiting for that moment to be called to the stage to win their award (and how they appear to have already rehearsed in their minds what they plan to say once they get there), I think Bisset's speech demonstrates how she doesn't spend her life waiting for that sort of affirmation or acclaim because, if she had, she would've already known what to say that night.  (As a point of contrast, another actress I interviewed, in responding to my question regarding whether she was satisfied with all she had accomplished, said, "No, I still need to win the Oscar, because I've already won everything else."  Bisset never said anything as presumptuous or self-aggrandizing as that with me.)

I also remember how, with self-effacing candor and humor, Bisset recalled how she moved to Hollywood in 1967 after she signed a picture deal with 20th Century-Fox and that she worried for many years that she might end up "going Hollywood" and losing all the values that her parents had raised her with.  She said she used to wonder how it would happen with other actors that they changed drastically and negatively once they arrived in Hollywood.  She used to ask herself whether she had the strength of character to be able to live and work in Hollywood, and not pick up any bad traits from the environment, and have enough perspective to go back home to England if her career did not work out and earn a living at a regular job back there.  She told me that for years she used to ask herself if she had "gone Hollywood" yet.  She often concluded that she didn't believe that she had, but sensed that it could still happen, so she was always on guard about it in order to ensure that she held onto her sense of identity.  She acknowledged, while laughing good-naturedly about it, that she finally allowed herself to relax about it around the time she turned 50 years old because she figured she had been in Hollywood nearly 30 years by then, and that if she was going to "go Hollywood" it would have already happened by that point.

The other thing I remember about Bisset was that she appeared to have a lot of integrity.  Even though she had high standards with regards to what she considered a good film, she was also a realist.  She knew it was difficult to have any sort of success as an actress in as competitive an industry as Hollywood, and recognized how, despite best efforts, sometimes every actor ends up in a film that isn't very good.  There was no sense of entitlement about herself that I sometimes encountered with other actresses.  Despite her frustrations at the limited opportunities for mature actresses in Hollywood, I sensed that she knew she was fortunate to still be working.  She was one of the smartest actresses I ever met with regards to understanding the business end of Hollywood.  I learned a lot from her about maintaining a decorum of maturity and professionalism that I try to apply to my own life and career.  In particular, I recall an anecdote she shared about a boyfriend she had when she was a teenager in London who used to call her an "ignoramus" all the time.  She knew she wasn't an ignoramus, but when he called her that it really challenged her to prove to herself that she was not.  She said to me, "The odd insult, or criticism, really isn't so bad.  It can be very motivating and it's good to continually be challenged.  If people told you all your life that you're wonderful and brilliant, why would you ever bother improving yourself?"  I always remembered that statement.  It really made an impression on me, which is why I always try to be receptive to constructive criticism in all aspects of my life, because it can only help you improve.

What I also appreciated about Bisset was the fact that she didn't self-indulgently criticize the "bad" movies in her career.  She completely appreciated and recognized the acclaimed films she had appeared in, but concurrently didn't needlessly disparage the bad, or unsuccessful, ones because she felt that every professional experience--whether it was a TV movie or a flop feature film--was a worthwhile experience where she learned a valuable lesson, or made a lifelong friend, or was a particularly pleasurable working experience that was a happy time in her life.  I admired how she didn't take a bad movie in her career as somehow being a personal reflection upon herself, which other actresses self-indulgently do, and found value in flops like "When Time Ran Out..." (1980) or "Inchon!" (1982).  As I mentioned earlier, there was no sense of entitlement about herself and she often spoke about how lucky she was to have been in the films she has made, and worked with the directors and stars that she has throughout her career.

Which is why I thought it strange that people appeared to get the wrong impression of Bisset when they reacted to the portion of her speech where she said "I want to thank people who have given me joy, and there are many who have given me sh-t.  I say like my mother.  What did she say?  She used to say, 'go to hell or don't come back!'" because of the way they misinterpreted that remark to indicate she was someone who was bitter, had a chip on her shoulder, or had an axe to grind.  Hank Stuever of the Washington Post summarized that perception and reaction when he wrote, "At a loss for words, Bisset soon found some, reaching back across decades of apparent show-biz hurt and neglect, to the chagrin of the person at the control board tasked with muting out bad words."  The reason I interpreted that portion of her speech differently from others is that, in my experience, Bisset had the least-victimized mentality of any of the 1960s-era actresses I interviewed.  In contrast to others--who openly shared with me their hurt, hate, and resentment over losing out on key movie roles that they thought would have catapulted them to greater stardom; how they were treated cruelly by co-stars, directors, or the property master; or were cheated out of their life savings by unscrupulous agents, managers, or ex-spouses--Bisset had none of that "woe is me" attitude when discussing her life and career with me.

In fact, Bisset shared with me how she felt she was well treated by 20th Century-Fox when she had a long-term picture deal with them in the 1960s, and that they never put her into any movies she didn't want to do and always allowed her to work with other studios.  Bisset recalled how, many years later, a former Fox executive told her that the studio enjoyed working with her because she was always so polite with them that she brought out the best in people and, as such, they never wanted to force her into any movies she wasn't keen on appearing in.  Having dealt with her first-hand, I understood why the Fox executives responded positively to her civility.  This was in contrast to her contemporaries, who often complained to me about being under contract to the studios, and how they openly complained about it at the time, and how they resented being forced into films they didn't want to appear in, and not being allowed to work for other studios, as if it were some great tragedy.  Bisset's anecdote taught me how being civil, yet assertive, with people can help go a long way towards building allies and accomplishing goals, rather than creating turmoil and conflict and alienating individuals.  I got the impression that she's someone who knows how to take care of herself and hasn't done things to open herself up to being victimized.  I admit I'm not a close confidante of hers, but based on my experience with her I'd be surprised if she perceived herself that way, especially because of how she described her and her brother were raised by their parents to be mature individuals who took responsibility for their lives.  She did acknowledge one or two instances in her career where things did not go so well with specific people she worked with, but there was no hate or resentment on her part when she described them, and those anecdotes were nothing compared to the dozens and dozens of archenemies and perceived wrongs that other 1960s-era actresses shared with me.  My impression is that Bisset knows she is fortunate and I think she was just trying to make a joke when she made that aforementioned statement during her acceptance speech and people are reading more into it than is actually there.

I think Bisset's sensible outlook on her life and career was the reason why my late friend, the acclaimed production designer and producer Polly Platt, spoke so highly about Bisset.  Polly had big likes and big dislikes in terms of the people she worked with throughout her career.  Bisset was one of the few people--along with Ben Johnson and Lois Chiles--that Polly without reservation praised as a collaborative working professional and as a human being.  (Polly wasn't alone--almost every other 1960s actress I dealt with had only positive things to say about Bisset, which is amazing because so many of them were ready to criticize one another, but they appeared to reserve their criticism when it came to Bisset.)  I remember Polly telling me a story about how she worked with Bisset on "The Thief Who Came to Dinner" (1973) and how Bisset had no comprehension of how beautiful she really is, and the effect she had on people.  Polly felt that Bisset didn't have the narcissism or ego of other actors she worked with.  I think this has to do with something that Bisset shared with me--that her idea of beauty and perfection was the French film star Jeanne Moreau.  She really admires Moreau and how comfortable she is in her own skin.  Bisset said to me that she doesn't want to have a facelift and look plastic because, even though she realizes that one's appearance is important in the profession she is working in, she also wants to retain a sense of being genuine so that the people important to her in her personal life still respect her as an individual.

When the interview wound down, Bisset thanked me for the time and research I put into preparing for it and for asking detailed questions.  She said she enjoyed getting to know me and recognized that I had prepared at length for the interview and wasn't just asking her generalized questions.  I guess I was surprised because other actresses rarely thanked me for having prepared or researched to get ready for the interview.  It was as if they expected that I would have watched every film or TV appearance before I met with them--and they're correct to expect me to be ready--but few really took the time to make note of it as Bisset did.  I got the impression that day that she's a very decent, conscientious human being.  She didn't play games and never messed with me like some of the other 1960s actresses had, was always above board and direct, and was thoughtful and considerate.  I guess one thing that surprises me about the reaction to her speech was the level of schadenfreude and vitriol directed at Bisset.  Aside from saying the word "sh-t" in her speech, she wasn't cruel or offensive or really do anything to warrant the level of ridicule and derision expressed by columnists or people commenting online.  I wanted as much as anyone to see her hit it out of the park, but I think the reaction to the speech was completely disproportionate to what actually occurred.  I can sort of understand it if the vitriol was directed at someone who was consistently and vocally obnoxious, but that's not Bisset. 

I don't want to give the impression that I am bosom buddies with Jacqueline Bisset because I haven't been in touch with her for years.  I remember that, a week after I interviewed her, she called me at home to say that she had spoken with her friend Ursula Andress, who lived in Rome, and tried to persuade Ms. Andress to let me interview her.  Bisset said that, she wasn't sure Andress had decided to do it, but wanted to give me her phone number and contact information and said I was welcome to contact her directly.  (I did reach out to Andress, but was never able to connect with her.)  Nevertheless, it was a thoughtful gesure on Bisset's part considering she had already given me quite a bit of her time.  The last time I heard from her was several Christmases ago.  She had sent me a Christmas card and hoped I was doing well and asked what I was up to, and commented on a few things that had happened in her life.  Anyway, I'm not sharing this story to try and impress you that I was able to interview Jacqueline Bisset, or other 1960s actresses, when I was working on that book project, because I admit it sounds kind of obnoxious and self-aggrandizing.  (And if I am opening myself up for ridicule for sharing my positive memories and impressions of her, well so be it.)  I simply wanted to provide another perspective about her which appears to have gotten lost this week after her unforgettable acceptance speech at the Golden Globes.  What I regret the most is the fact that Bisset's Golden Globe win, which was richly deserved both for that performance and for her lengthy career, has been overshadowed by a lot of nasty comments that really aren't warranted in the larger scheme of things. 

If there is a bright side to this, it's that I got the impression in my dealings with her that Jacqueline Bisset is a strong, sensible person who is able to laugh at herself and I think she'll ride out this controversy in the long run.  (It's been more than 2 days since her speech--and to date she hasn't rushed out any press release out of any fear or concern for damage control--so it's entirely possible she's unfazed by the attention and I hope that that's the case.  But I also recognize that Bisset, like the rest of us, is a sensitive human being and I wouldn't blame her if some of the comments directed at her could be taken to heart.)  More importantly, if there's anything positive to be gained from this, hopefully it'll allow a lot of people who may not be familiar with Bisset to become more acquainted with her and her work.  I think one reason why the fallout from her speech appeared to be so negative is because, even though she remains a very prolific actress, especially in independent films and TV movies, she admittedly hasn't had a major hit movie in awhile.  It's possible that a lot of younger people in their 20s probably haven't seen her in Francois Truffaut's "Day for Night" (1973), or "Airport" (1970), or "Bullitt" (1968), or "Murder on the Orient Express (1974) or "Rich and Famous" (1981) or "Under the Volcano" (1984) and don't realize what a sophisticated, earthy, winning presence she is as an actress (and why so many of us who remember her heyday in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s have such a positive opinion about her).  Hopefully, they will now. 

An Appraisal of Neil Sedaka's "Wheeling West Virginia"

Neil Sedaka is a recording artist I used to take for granted, but whom I have grown to deeply appreciate in recent years as I began to realize the full extent of his talents and accomplishments.  He is a great singer and entertainer but is also an amazing composer and pianist.  Sedaka has a level-headed maturity that allowed him to survive the ups and downs of his long show business career, but also possesses a refreshing child-like innocence and sense of awe about the world that allows him to continue composing and performing songs that have great depth and resonance to them.  I am in awe of the longevity and diversity of his music career.  Of the songs he recorded, I think "Laughter in the Rain" is probably his masterpiece, but there are many, many songs he either wrote or recorded that also deserve praise.  For instance, I really like the songs that he and Howard Greenfield wrote for the 1960 movie "Where the Boys Are," both the title song and the lesser known "Turn on the Sunshine" that Connie Francis sings in the nightclub.  The lyrics to both songs are not only fun and catchy, but they also have genuine feeling and emotion attached to them as well.  Sedaka himself comes across as a level-headed, accessible human being in his interviews, and I am happy to see that he is still recording, still performing, and doesn't seem anywhere close to retiring.

A Neil Sedaka song that I became familiar with just recently was his 1970 recording "Wheeling West Virginia" that he co-wrote with his frequent and longtime collaborator Howard Greenfield.  As I listened to the song, its lyrics resonated with me on many levels.  Even though the song was a hit in Australia at the time of its release, it doesn't appear to be as famous of some of Sedaka's other hits.  However, I think the song's central story of a successful Hollywood movie star originally from Wheeling, West Virginia who complains about the pressures and demands and hectic work schedule that his career entails, and how it evokes introspective self-reflection as to whether he is still in-touch with the person he once was back in his hometown, is one that is relevant and applicable to any and all individuals who are working in demanding, high-profile, and stressful careers.  The themes and concerns associated with the song are as relevant to, say, Washington, DC attorneys and politicos as much as it does with Hollywood actors and entertainers.  As with the works of all great artists, Sedaka's song resonates deeply beyond just the surface level.

For the uninitiated, the lyrics for "Wheeling, West Virginia" go like this:

Laurel to Sunset, freeway to Culver,
Racin' my MG down to MGM.
Sittin' in make-up tryin' to wake up
Gotta be on the set at eight a.m.
For one more day of make believin',
One more day of playin' the star,
One more day of endless pretendin',
Do ya know who you are?

Where is the guy from Wheelin' West Virginia
Why did he have to roam
So far away from Wheelin' West Virginia,
Thousands of miles from home.

Lawyers' fees and agents' commission,
Everybody's waitin' to be fed.
Uncle Sam is right there beside you,
Come on boy, ya got to make the bread.
For one more day of make believin',
One more day of playin' the star,
One more day of endless pretendin',
Do ya know who you are?

Where is the guy from Wheelin' West Virginia
Why did he have to roam
So far away from Wheelin' West Virginia,
Thousands of miles from home.

Culver to freeway, Sunset to Laurel,
Racin' my MG back from MGM.
Early to bed to be up at dawnin',
Gotta be on the set at eight a.m.
For one more day of make believin',
One more day of playin' the star,
one more day of endless pretendin',
But that's all you are.
Gone is the guy from Wheelin' West Virginia,
Gone is the world he used to know.
There's no such place as Wheelin' West Virginia,
It faded long ago. 

 
Years ago, before I moved to DC for law school, I was working on a book interviewing actresses who worked in movies and television during the 1960s.  They often described to me what it was like to work in the last decade of the traditional Hollywood studio system, and how they sometimes had doubts as to whether this life that they had suddenly found themselves living was the life they were destined to lead.  I was reminded of them as I listened to Neil Sedaka's song "Wheeling West Virginia."  The energy, excitement, hustle and bustle of Los Angeles and Hollywood of the late 1960s/early 1970s comes vividly to life with the thrilling imagery of Sedaka and Greenfield's lyrics.  With a satirical sense of humor, they peel back the glamorous facade of show business to reveal the mundane realities of successful actors who still have to drive themselves to work everyday, film all day at the studio from morning till night, and then drive home and go to bed early to prepare for the next day of shooting without any kind of personal life, and still have to earn enough money to employ agents and managers and to pay their taxes, all the while wondering if they have lost touch with who they used to be before they achieved this level of success.

 
The song reminded me of an anecdote that Jacqueline Bisset, who was one of the actresses I interviewed, shared with me when I spoke with her.  With self-effacing candor and humor, Bisset recalled how she moved to Hollywood in 1967 after she signed a picture deal with 20th Century-Fox and that she worried for many years that she might end up "going Hollywood" and losing all the values that her parents, who she deeply respected, had raised her with.  She said she used to wonder how it would happen with other actors that they changed drastically and negatively once they arrived in Hollywood.  She used to ask herself whether she had the strength of character to be able to live and work in Hollywood, and not pick up any bad traits from the environment, and have enough perspective to go back home to England if her career did not work out and earn a living at a regular job back there.  For years, she used to ask herself if she had "gone Hollywood" yet.  She often concluded that didn't believe that she had, but sensed that it could still happen, so she was always on guard about it in order to ensure that she held onto her sense of identity.  She acknowledged that she finally allowed herself to relax about it around the time she turned 50 years old because she figured she had been in Hollywood nearly 30 years by then, and that if she was going to "go Hollywood" it would have already happened by that point. 

It's too bad that the central character in Sedaka's song "Wheeling West Virginia" never met Jacqueline Bisset and got pointers from her on how to maintain a strong sense of identity about oneself, because it sounds like he went through the same kind of introspection as did Bisset in real life but without going about it in a constructive and proactive way like she did.  Instead of setting standards and goals for himself in terms of what sort of individual he wanted to be in Hollywood, like Bisset did, the protagonist in "Wheeling West Virginia" comes across as an individual who got swept up in success so quickly that he never asked himself what it was he truly wanted out of being a movie star.  Was it the fame and prestige?  Was it financial success?  Was it artistic accomplishment?  We don't know because it's clear that he doesn't know either.  At one point, the lyrics say "For one more day of make believin'/One more day of playin' the star/One more day of endless pretendin'/Do ya know who you are?" which suggests that the central character in the song doesn't really enjoy acting as a craft in terms of exploring the different sides and nuances of a character, which is why he seems unable to find any sort of satisfaction or fulfillment in his work.  It's apparent from the song that being an actor is only helping to create a sense of self-doubt as to his real identity.

"Wheeling West Virginia" has a deceptively whimsical and joyous beat to it thanks to the exuberance of Sedaka's performance.  But underneath it all, Sedaka also projects a wistful and melancholy mood as the central character in the song begins to idealize, and become nostalgic, about his hometown of Wheeling, West Virginia and how much simpler his life seemed back then.  When I listen to the song, I sense a character who regrets taking his hometown roots for granted, and how that lack of grounding and of being out-of-touch with his origins has led to him become someone who is rootless and dissatisfied with his success in Hollywood.  Clearly this fictional character was not reflective of Neil Sedaka himself as he has often discussed his childhood growing up in Brooklyn and how his parents worked hard to buy a piano and pay for music lessons so he could refine his talents.  One reason I've always liked Sedaka is that he knows who he is and how his family and background played an incredibly important role in helping to shape his success.  It's this sense of grounding and of understanding the importance of his origins that allowed Sedaka to have the perspective and initiative that helped him to forge the career and accomplishments that he has richly earned.

I imagine that "Wheeling West Virginia" was probably Sedaka's bemused, yet compassionate, observation of what other successful actors and entertainers he encountered during his career up to that point was experiencing in their lives (similar to what Jacqueline Bisset observed about her peers and environment once she arrived in Hollywood in 1967).  I'm sure Neil Sedaka never thought in his life that he would ever be compared with Jacqueline Bisset but I think the comparison has validity because, in my dealings with her, I found Bisset to be a realist and I sense that Sedaka is one as well.  At the end of the song "Wheeling West Virginia," the lyrics of the song say "Gone is the guy from Wheelin' West Virginia/Gone is the world he used to know/There's no place as Wheelin' West Virginia/It Faded Long Ago."  In the finale verse, "There's no such place as Wheelin' West Virginia/It Faded Long Ago," Sedaka slows the tempo of the song and brings it to an abrupt halt, almost as if the main character of the song has come to a sudden, painful epiphany that this idealized romanticization of his home town is just an illusion and that Wheeling West Virginia itself probably had its share of responsibilities, pressures and stress just like Hollywood does.  It's because of subtle and insightful nuances such as these, which is characteristic of all of Neil Sedaka's work as a singer and composer throughout his incredible 55-plus year career, that his music continues to resonate with us. 

Jacqueline Bisset Saves the Day in "Inchon!"

A movie that has always intrigued me, both because of what went on on-screen and off-, was the notorious Korean War epic "Inchon!" (1982) produced by the Reverend Sun Myung Moon's Unification Church.  The stories that went on behind the scenes on that film, as well as the bad reviews it received at the time, created an aura of mystery and intrigue surrounding the movie that makes me surprised that no one has ever attempted to write an in-depth book about it, much less released it on DVD containing all of its versions running different lengths as well as extras detailing the production history of it.  When I finally got to see the movie, years after it bombed at the box office, I was surprised that it didn't quite live up to my expectations of ineptitude as I had imagined.  It was indeed an uneven and bloated production, with an amazingly bizarre performance by Laurence Olivier as General Douglas MacArthur, but it had enough color and spectacle that it was never boring.  I kept expecting to chuckle at embarrassing moments, but I didn't probably because I sensed a level of earnest sincerity behind the whole enterprise that didn't warrant the contempt it had somehow engendered through the years.

What kept me engaged in the movie was the surprisingly touching subplot involving Jacqueline Bisset's character.  Bisset plays Barbara Hallsworth, the estranged wife of Marine Major Frank Hallsworth (Ben Gazzara) who is having an affair with a Korean woman Lim (Karen Kahn).  Barbara is living near the 38th Parallel and running an interior design business from Philadelphia.  The day the Communist North Korean soldiers move past the 38th parallel into South Korea, she is busy shopping for furniture for her clients when she learns of the Communists' advancement into the South.  She and her chauffeur escape in their Ford Woody station wagon as they proceed South to the American Embassy in Seoul, but he is killed by a North Korean plane firing from overhead.  As Barbara continues her journey by herself, she encounters an elderly Korean man who entrusts his five orphaned granddaughters with Barbara.  At first frustrated and annoyed with the responsibility of caring for these children that have been thrust upon her, Barbara eventually bonds with these Korean girls as they help bring a sense of purpose to her life that had been absent before.

Barbara and the girls encounter various dangers throughout their journey, including narrowly escaping a collapsing bridge that had been blown up by the South Koreans so that the Communists, who had been shelling and advancing upon the bridge, can't take possession of it.  Barbara also shoots a North Korean soldier between the eyes when he tries to confiscate her station wagon.  Along the way, they pick up a young Korean woman Mila (Lydia Lei) who was planning to get married, and has been separated from her fiancee, when the Communists began their advancement.  Barbara, Mila and the girls eventually arrive at a Mission run by the U.N. where they briefly take refuge and then move on to Pusan where Barbara is reunited with her husband.  After U.S. Troops are able to drive out the North Korean forces, Barbara bids a sad farewell to the five Korean girls as she and Frank reconcile.

Years ago, before I moved East for law school, I had the opportunity to interview Jacqueline Bisset for a book I was working on regarding 1960s-era actresses.  Bisset was one of the most intelligent people I ever met in my life, let alone one of the most intelligent actresses I encountered while conducting interviews for this book project.  She was as friendly and down-to-earth as her reputation indicated, with a refreshing sense of humor and humility about herself.  Even though she had high standards with regards to what she considered a good film, she was also a realist.  She knew it was difficult to have any sort of success as an actress in as competitive an industry as Hollywood, and realized that, despite best efforts, sometimes every actor ends up in a film that isn't very good.  There was no sense of entitlement about herself that I sometimes encountered with other actresses.  Despite her frustrations at the limited opportunities for mature actresses in Hollywood, I sensed that she knew she was fortunate to still be working.  She was one of the smartest actresses I ever met with regards to understanding the business end of Hollywood.  I learned a lot from her about maintaining a decorum of maturity and professionalism that I try to apply to my own life and career.

What was refreshing about her was that she didn't trash the Irwin Allen disaster movie "When Time Ran Out..." (1980) or "Inchon!" when I asked her about them.  She knew that they had been badly received, but acknowledged that she enjoyed making them and that everyone involved did their best.  She explained that she agreed to make "Inchon!" when the director, Terence Young, met with her personally after she had originally turned the script down.  He urged her to reconsider.  Bisset didn't like the overall script, but liked the subplot that had been devised for her character Barbara and agreed to do the film on that basis.  She said she enjoyed working in South Korea and loved working with Lydia Lei and the five Korean girls who played the orphans in her vignette.  At the time I spoke with her, she said she hadn't seen "Inchon!" but welcomed the opportunity to watch it someday because she was curious at how it turned out.  Bisset shared a funny anecdote about a woman approaching her not long after the release telling her that she loved "Inchon!"  Bisset was startled because she had heard nothing but bad things about it, and then found out that the woman was referring to the lavish premiere party the producers threw for it at the Cannes Film Festival, not the film itself.  She explained at the end of the interview that she has no regrets about "Inchon!" or "When Time Ran Out..." or other films she made that may not have turned out as well as she had hoped because she always found something good about the experience of every film she worked on.  I admired how she didn't take a bad movie in her career as somehow being a personal reflection upon herself, which other actresses self-indulgently do.

And there's no reason for Bisset to be embarrassed because she does good work in "Inchon!" and does indeed have the best subplot in the movie.  Barbara's storyline is one of the few that seems to have a clear objective and purpose in comparison to the other muddled narratives in the movie.  When we first encounter Barbara in the story, she's kind of haughty, self-centered and aristocratic.  She's haggling over the prices of antique Korean furniture with an antique dealer when she suddenly learns that the North Koreans have crossed the 38th Parallel, causing her to flee immediately.  She's only concerned for her own hide and doesn't seem overly upset when her driver is killed.  When she encounters the elderly Korean grandfather, as she is trying to cross a crowded bridge, who asks her to take his five granddaughters to safety, she selfishly refuses to help them until they climb into her car against her permission.  So her initial involvement with the Korean girls was hardly out of the goodness of her heart.  She even goes so far as to yell at them, when they climb into her station wagon, "Hey, what the Hell do you think you're doing?!  Come on, get out of there!  Quick!  Sir, get these little bastards out of here!"  Even after they climb into her car, she tells them they have to get out once they're safely across the other side of the bridge.

 

Eventually, however, Barbara's innate decency emerges as she and the Korean girls and, later, the young Korean woman Mila bond over the course of their journey.  Some of the best action sequences in the movie are the ones involving Barbara and the children, including the sequence on the bridge when the South Koreans blow it up.  The station wagon containing Barbara and the children teeters precariously over the edge until a group of South Korean soldiers help pull it to safety.  Later, when they encounter the Communist soldier who attempts to confiscate their vehicle, Barbara calmly shoots him between the eyes and floors the accelerator until they've escaped the Communists.  By the time the car has broken down, and Barbara is trying vainly to get it started up again, we see her holding her right hand up, with her fingers crossed for good luck, as the Korean children hold up their hands, with their fingers crossed as well, in a collective act of praying for good luck that the engine of the car will eventually turn over.  The gesture indicates Barbara's gradually softening feelings towards the children and also about her own lessening sense of entitlement.

When one of her husband's enlisted colleagues, Sergeant Henderson (Richard Roundtree) encounters Barbara and helps fix the engine of her car, he addresses her as "Mrs. Hallsworth."  Barbara appears indignant at his mock-formailty and asks him "What's this 'Mrs. Hallsworth' bit?"  Henderson explains, "You know, officer's wife, rich Philadelphia lady," and Barbara responds, "Right now, I'm just a woman with five kids, stuck in the middle of a war."  Henderson realizes that Barbara's experiences with the children have begun to change her from a selfish and entitled person, to someone with considerably more substance.  He jokes, "You're a bit dusty, quite a bit warmer, I must say motherhood quite becomes you."  Barbara is further humbled when she learns from Henderson that her husband Frank, who she assumed didn't care about her, has been busy trying to locate her since the fighting started.  As she gets into the car, she tells Henderson that she plans to "head south, all the way to Pusan.  It'll be safer for the kids.  And if that sounds noble, it isn't.  Maybe I just want Frank to know that I don't need him."  After what she has encountered, Barbara realizes that, at that moment, survival, and the safety of the children, is more important than being concerned about the future of her troubled marriage.

One of the (intentionally) funniest scenes in "Inchon!" has Barbara driving the car as the Korean girls yell and fight amongst themselves for crackers from a care package that Henderson has given them so they can eat.  She yells at them to settle down saying, "Oh, OK, you guys!  Keep it down or you'll have to walk all the way!  You hear!"  As she looks in the rearview mirror, she sees one of the youngest children mimicking her harsh, scolding nature.  Barbara honks the horn to tell her to cut it out and everyone gets silent in the car.  Barbara tries hard to suppress her smile as she bursts into laughter because the little girl has imitated her quite succinctly.  They all laugh together as Barbara grabs one of the crackers and begins to truly feel at-ease with these children.  Bisset and the Korean children have great chemistry together in this scene, and it's easy to see that she sincerely enjoyed working with them.

Throughout "Inchon!" we see how Barbara starts becoming genuinely concerned for their well-being and the well-being of the other refugees.  At one point, Barbara stops the car when she notices the bodies of American and South Korean soldiers strewn along the roadside.  She urges the oldest girl to engage the other children in games so that they aren't traumatized by the horrors surrounding them.  As she goes to help Mila, the young Korean refugee who was supposed to get married that day, tend to the wounded soldiers, she seems concerned about the bruises on Mila's face and asks where they came from.  As Mila tears up her wedding dress to make bandages to help the wounded American soldiers, she faints from exhaustion, and a concerned Barbara drags the girl to her car so that she can join them on their journey South to Seoul.  After Barbara and the girls arrive at the U.N. Mission, she originally intends to make the remainder of her trip alone, but realizes that she can't easily part company with Mila and the children just yet and brings them along with her to Pusan where she reunites with her husband.  When Barbara arrives in Pusan, and is greeted by a Turkish General (Gabriele Ferzetti), who asks "And whose, may I ask, are these young children?," Barbara proudly proclaims, "Mine." 

That night, Barbara has a scene where she tucks the children, who are sleeping side-by-side in an extremely wide bed, in at night.  She tells them, "Now, everyone, fast asleep!  Or I'll be back, and you'll see!"  As she walks out of the room, the girls start to laugh and Barbara jokingly scolds them "Now you all, don't you imitate me when my back's turned!"  It could have been a really corny scene, but Bisset and the Korean children pull it off thanks to the genuine warmth emanating from them that allows it to be a touching, rather than cloying, moment.  Because Barbara has changed so much, her reunion right after this with her husband Frank turns out to be less acrimonious than we would have expected it to be given his adultery and her lingering animosity towards him.  They argue, but Bisset and Ben Gazzara do a good job demonstrating how much they still love each other.  Even though they hash it out over the reasons he started having the affair with the Korean woman, Lim, and her boredom and frustration being an officer's wife, at the end of the scene Barbara has enough perspective to say "Look, Frank.  Tomorrow you're going to be off, wherever it is.  You've got problems of your own.  Let's leave ours for the moment.  And, later, when you come back, you tell me the way you want it and that's the way it'll be."  Barbara realizes that, with the war brewing around them, right now isn't the time to go over a litany of each other's shortcomings as spouses and that they can deal with it later when they have the luxury of considering their future.

At the end of the movie, after the American and South Korean forces have driven out the North Korean forces, Barbara and Mila bid farewell to the Korean children at an orphanage in Seoul.  As the bell rings for the children to attend class, the youngest of the children runs up to Barbara and hands her a drawing that the girls of made of Barbara, the five children, and their car, with a crayon scrawl saying "We Love You Babira."  Barbara brushes back tears as she tells Mila, "I don't have yellow hair."  After nearly 2 and a half hours of haphazardly staged epic battle sequences, and political posturing, the movie elicits some genuinely touching emotions with this quiet little moment.  Some people have scoffed that the drawing is awful and hilarious, but there's a simple sincerity to the moment that would have come across more clearly had it been contained in a much better movie.  In isolation from the rest of "Inchon!," however, the gesture works fine because of the heart that Jacqueline Bisset, Lydia Lei and the Korean children (who, unfortunately, are unbilled in the credits) invests in it.  If more of the movie was built around the Barbara storyline or, at the very least, had the same care and attention paid to it, perhaps it might not have been as critically reviled upon release.  The only thing that makes me slightly unsatisfied by the ending is that I'm a bit surprised that, after everything they've gone through, Barbara and her husband Frank don't adopt the children, rather than leaving them at the orphanage before returning to the United States.  However, since the rest of the movie has a lot of problems, I guess it would be unfair to quibble about a minor issue in what was, otherwise, the best storyline that "Inchon!" had going for it. 

William Holden Gave His All Even "When Time Ran Out..."

I recently came across an interesting segment of "The Tonight Show" starring Johnny Carson from 1980 with Carson interviewing William Holden while he's on the show to promote his latest film "When Time Ran Out..." (1980), a terrible Irwin Allen-produced disaster film about tourists on a Pacific island fleeing in terror from an erupting volcano.  With shoddy special effects, mostly indifferent performances (especially by Paul Newman), slow pacing, and bad writing, "When Time Ran Out..." is the sort of film that makes people cynical about Hollywood filmmaking since it was produced as part of a deal Irwin Allen made with Warner Brothers to make a series of disaster movies that included "The Swarm" (1978), "Beyond the Poseidon Adventure" (1979) and countless made-for-TV movies.  My understanding is that Paul Newman and William Holden only appeared in the movie to fulfill their contractual obligation to do another disaster epic for Irwin Allen after making "The Towering Inferno" (1974) for him.  By the time "When Time Ran Out..." was made, the genre had run its course and Warner Brothers had become impatient with Allen to such a degree that they purportedly cut the budget of the movie in mid-production, thus explaining the threadbare production values and special effects.  I've read that Holden didn't like the film at all, particularly as he got billing below Paul Newman, as well as the fact that leading lady Jacqueline Bisset doesn't end up with his character at the end, but with Newman's.  I also recall reading in Bob Thomas' biography of William Holden that he drank heavily throughout the production of "When Time Ran Out..." and that that alarmed the filmmakers since the film entailed difficult stunts and locations.  As such, it was apparent that this was hardly one of Holden's proudest accomplishments as an actor.

Which is why I marveled at how charming and enthusiastic Holden was while being interviewed by Johnny Carson about the film.  After discussing his interest in African conservation and wildlife, and sharing an anecdote about making "Sunset Blvd" (1950), Holden finally gets around to discussing "When Time Ran Out..."  He describes his character and the storyline of the movie with great ease, and even goes so far as to say "It's quite exciting with a marvelous cast...good company and it's an exciting show" which I imagine must have taken a level of intestinal fortitude for Holden to say because anyone who has ever seen "When Time Ran Out..." knows that it's hardly an "exciting" movie.  Holden even jokes, when Johnny Carson points out that Mount Saint Helens had just erupted in real life, that "Irwin Allen plays long shots.  He makes this picture a year in-advance and then the day before the picture comes out Mount Saint Helens blows up.  You see, it's working...He made a picture, 'Poseidon Adventure' and I think it was the Queen Elizabeth turned over in the bay of Hong Kong.  And then we made 'Towering Inferno' and they were very obliging, the skyscraper in San Paulo, Brazil burned down."  Carson then jokes "You're not accusing anyone are you?" and Holden slyly responds "No, no..." as the two chuckle amongst themselves.  Nevertheless, I admired Holden's humility and professionalism to not denigrate the movie publicly the way so many movie stars and celebrities are apt to do these days.  Some people might say that he was being a hypocrite for not expressing his true feelings about the film, but I disagree.  Holden knew that he agreed to make "When Time Ran Out..." and that he took the money for it, and he was hardly a struggling actor trying to pay his bills at the time.  It would have been much more hypocritical, in my opinion, if he made the movie, got paid for it, and trashed it at the time of the release when the studio was still hoping to recoup its expenditures from it.  Years later, upon reflection, he would have been allowed to express his true feelings after the success or failure of the movie had already been determined by the marketplace.

Unfortunately, Holden never had that chance to be candid about "When Time Ran Out..." because he unexpectedly died a year and a half later from an accidental head injury sustained at his home in Los Angeles.  As such, "When Time Ran Out..." ended up being the penultimate performance of a talented and charismatic actor who graced some of the finest movies Hollywood has ever made.  I've always liked William Holden for his charm and warmth on-screen.  Like James Stewart, he had the courage to play unsympathetic characters that went against his natural screen image.  He was never afraid to show the sleazy and corruptible side to his characters, but we still cared about them because his innate charm still came through.  I also liked him for the fact that he grew up in South Pasadena, California--not far from where I grew up--and that knowledge gave me hope that talent and initiative might someday get me out of the San Gabriel Valley (and it has).  Nevertheless, Holden needn't make any excuses for "When Time Ran Out..." because, even though it's a terrible movie, Holden still gives it his all.  While no one in the film could be accused of giving their best performances in it, Holden still does fine work, and has about three or four scenes that allow him to demonstrate what he was capable of as an actor.  That's more than can be said for top-billed star Paul Newman, who sleepwalks his way through the movie, barely able to contain his obvious contempt for the material.

There's a scene at the beginning of the movie, where the jet carrying Holden and Jacqueline Bisset is about to land on the tropical Pacific island where Holden's character, a hotel magnate named Shelby Gilmore, has built his latest resort hotel.  He is there to inspect it while accompanied by his public relations manager, Kay Kirby, played by Bisset.  In the backstory of the movie, Holden's character is deeply in love with Bisset, but she is still in love with oil wildcatter Paul Newman, who she met and was romantically involved with while on an earlier visit to the island.  The pilot tells them that they are making their "final approach" to the island, which inspires Holden to make his "final approach" with Bisset.  He takes out a ringbox and asks her to marry him.  She tells him she can't and that he knows it is because she's still in love with Paul Newman's character.  Holden responds, "But he's not the marrying kind."  Bisset chuckles and tries to change the subject and make light of the situation by commenting that the same can't be said about Holden's much-married, and much-divorced, character.  Bisset muses aloud whether she would be his fifth, sixth or even seventh wife if she were to marry him.  Holden looks at Bisset intently and simply says "The last."  It's a simple line of dialogue, but Holden proved that he still possessed enough romantic sex appeal in this scene so that he delivers it with the requisite amount of love and sincerity.  Because of the fine work between Bisset, a real trouper and sincere professional if there ever was one, and Holden in this scene, you sense how Kay Kirby has affected Shelby Gilmore in ways that his earlier wives had not, and that he sincerely knows that she is the love of his life.  Even though the years of drinking have caused Holden to look much older than he was at the time, Holden still has enough presence to give Paul Newman's character a run for his money while competing for Bisset's hand in marriage.

Later in the film, Holden's character confronts his hotel general manager and business partner, Bob Spangler, played by James Franciscus.  Holden tells Franciscus that he has concerns about the safety of the tourists on the island due to alarming reports about the volcano's stability.  Holden angrily tells him, "Bob, I'm in the partner business.  I can't be in 64 resorts at the same time.  I have to rely on what my partner's tell me.  Up to a point.  And if I come to feel they're lying, I call in the cards."  Franciscus' character bluffs and calls his geologist, who tells him that the volcano is unstable and can erupt any moment and that they better evacuate the island immediately.  The smug and sleazy Franciscus hands the phone over to Holden, in an act of defiance to challenge Holden's authority over him.  Holden takes the phone, looks at Franciscus intently and responds "As I said before, I trust my partners.  Up to a point."  Holden then hangs up the phone and walks out.  Holden's character realizes that Franciscus is bluffing him, and that taking the call would be pointless because he already knows what the truth is.  You can tell that he's not going to waste another minute on Franciscus.  Holden establishes his character as a tough, no-nonsense businessman who doesn't suffer fools gladly.  Even though the role was hardly up to his standards as an actor, Holden still brings a sense of authority and gravitas to establish that Shelby Gilmore is a man who won't tolerate Franciscus' foolishness any longer.

Probably Holden's most touching moments in the film are with Veronica Hamel, who plays Nikki Spangler, the wife of James Franciscus' character.  In the storyline, we learn that Nikki is the goddaughter of Holden's character, and that he loves her deeply as if she were his own child.  We also learn that Franciscus' character only married Nikki in order to get to Holden's character to convince him to build a resort on that island.  When Holden and Hamel's character are reunited at the beginning of the film, and he tells her that he just saw her mother recently and that she's becoming almost as beautiful as she is, there's a warmth and familiarity emanating between the two actors which convinces you that they really are like family.  Later in the film, after the volcano has erupted, and Paul Newman's character has proposed evacuating the resort and moving everyone to higher ground on the other side of the island, Holden's character goes to Nikki's suite.  She had fallen off her horse and sprained her ankle when the volcano erupted and is resting.  Holden urgently tells her to get dressed and that they're leaving for the other side of the island.  When Hamel's character learns that her husband doesn't want anyone to evacuate the resort, she tells Holden that if her husband feels that way, he must be right and that they are safe at the resort.

Holden tells her, "I don't care what he says.  You're my responsibility and I'm taking you with me."  Hamel's character responds, "Shelby, you know my place is with him.  Right or wrong."  Holden tries to reason with Hamel, telling her, "We'll argue about that later.  Now, are you coming or do I have to carry you?"  When Hamel again refuses to leave, Holden grabs Hamel and bluntly tells her "Don't you understand?  He only married you so he could get to me!"  Hamel tearfully tells him she doesn't believe him and that "I'm not going to go with you!" as she wrests herself away from him.  Holden becomes frustrated that he can't make Hamel see the truth, and that he's lost her forever.  Before he walks out the door, Holden turns around, looks intently at Hamel, and quietly says with gravitas and sadness, "Goodbye Nikki."  Flush with anger from arguing with her, Holden's character calms down and regains his composure as he realizes that this is the last time he will ever see her again.  Holden and Hamel's performances bring a surprising level of poignancy to this subplot that make it one of the better scenes in the movie. 

Throughout "When Time Ran Out...", William Holden rises above the cliched and hackneyed storyline of the movie to make Shelby Gilmore a sympathetic and intelligent character, with strength and resolve.  His presence never becomes campy or foolish in the course of the story.  Despite his wealth and power, he remains a heroic and admirable character, one who is concerned about the safety of others rather than his own personal comfort and security.  At the end of the film, after the rag-tag group of survivors have witnessed the destruction of the resort by the volcano, Holden has a quiet moment listening to Burgess Meredith's character grieve for his wife.  Holden listens with compassion and sympathy, but we realize that he is also grieving at that moment for his goddaughter, Nikki.  Holden is subtle in that scene and allows those expressive eyes and his handsome face to convey his feelings of sadness to the audience.  In contrast, Paul Newman makes absolutely no effort to bring any feeling or depth to his character.  It's clear that Newman is on autopilot throughout "When Time Ran Out..." and, if it's true that Holden was annoyed that Newman got top-billing and won the girl in the end, I can't honestly blame him considering how he still delivered the goods despite the bad script he had to contend with, and his own personal issues at the time.  Holden's fine performance brings to "When Time Ran Out..." a few nicely acted little vignettes that stand out from the rest of the movie surrounding it.  Time may have sadly run out in William Holden's life when he made this film, but his talent, screen presence, and professionalism continue to live on.