I know, I know... yesterday I promised to tell you what Boston Red Sox slugger Ted Williams and comedian Steve Martin have in common... but I lied. Well, not really. I just wanted to insert this post on old movies because it fit. The answer to this riddle is next, just after these selected short subjects.
Moviola is fictional story I wrote seven years ago about the making of the 1915 romance,
Moon over Miami starring the soon to be famous Vivian St. Claire, a real 'looker.' Movie making back then was a gritty black-and-white art that stole its way into the imaginations of the world. It was made with grand imagination, before such things as computer effects--or even computers, and without sound which is good because Vivian's high pitched voice never would have made the cut. It was what it was and it was beloved.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
MOVIOLA!
As the sun slowly
set over the placid blue ocean ending another perfect day in paradise…
Rip. KRRRASH!
Zzzip.
Dust rose from the
ripple-cut cardboard ‘ocean’ as the copper-colored metal ‘sun’ crashed
ingloriously into ‘the sea’ and rolled off-stage.
“Cut! Cut! CUT!
damn-it! Where the hell is Corky?”
“Here, boss. Here I am.”
“What the hell are
you doing to me Corky? First the beach scenery falls on Vivian. Then this. If
we loose our star, there is no moving picture and we go broke. You tryin’ to
put us out of business? Some right-hand guy you turned out to be, you washed up
old has-been.”
Josh, always the
entrepreneur, founded RockScissorsPaper Studio in 1914, right after he was
dumbfounded by that French ‘moving picture,’ seven years ago. He knew then that
moving pictures would be the next best thing since the stereograph. And Josh
was almost never wrong. “If a guy in
America today hasn’t been broke four times in his life, he will never amount to
nothin,” he told his backers.
”Sorry boss.
That’s why we needed new rope.”
“You know we can’t
afford an extra penny. Now, if you are any good at all, fix that damn thing
before it kills somebody. We gotta finish this scene or we don’t go home
tonight.”
“Washed up old
has-been. That’s what he called me,” said Corky, talking only to himself as he
walked through the dark and rainy night to his trolley stop. “I slave for that
guy… save his ass time and again. If it wasn’t for me, there never would be a
RockScissorsPaper Studio.”
He smiled as he
remembered the first time Josh brought ‘the money’ to have a look-see at the
new studio. “Hell, it was a garage…a dirty, dingy garage with three lights and
one camera. So I made a big sign and hung it on the empty building down the
block. Those yokels never knew the difference.”
He laughed out
loud as he remembered that first movie… Pauline and the Big Bad Wolf. “Vivian
was just a young kid I found on the street. Boy, was she a ‘looker.’
“Hey kid! Wanna be
in movin’ pictures?”
“Yeah! Sure mister.
What is movin’ pictures?”
“I had to find a
wolf costume. OK, so it was a gorilla suit. When I was done with it, it was a
wolf costume. And I had to wear it ‘caus no one else would. It must have been
120 degrees in that thing. But Josh liked it. God. That first movie… seems like
so long ago.”
The next day at
the studio didn’t go much better. Corky, do this! Corky, do that! Where is that
beach ball and sun umbrella Corky? Help Vivian into her costume. Shut that
shade! Get a ladder over here! Can’t you do anything right?
“Shut up!” Corky
exploded. “Shut your mouth up you pompous stuffed walrus. You sit in that chair
and act like you are God. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you!”
The set became
quiet as a graveyard at midnight. Everyone looked at Josh and Corky. Josh
couldn’t believe his ears.
“Well, Corky. If
you can’t take it, then maybe you aren’t as tough as I thought you were. We
have a movie to make here and we have to be done by Friday. Are you going to
shut your big, fat trap and get to work, or are your going to get the hell out?
Corky, stunned at
the turn of events, stood for almost a minute without answering, then turned
and stormed out the door.
The bright sun hit
him like an epiphany.
“What the hell did
I just do? Josh and me, we been together now for almost eight years. The big
jackass can’t do it without me. He doesn’t know how to make the moon rise, find
a canoe, get a street sign or create a saloon from nothin’. Only I can do that.
“But I’m not goin’
back. I can’t go back.”
The movie did not
go well. You can’t make “Moon over Miami” if you have no moon. You can’t row a
canoe if you have no paddle. You can’t have no parking unless you have a ‘No
Parking’ sign.
“Where the hell is
Corky,” screamed Josh as he slammed his clipboard to the floor. Where is that
stupid son-of-a-bitch when I need him.”
“You fired him,
boss,” he was reminded. “You kicked him out.”
“Oh yeah. Good
riddance. That little weasel thinks he owns RockScissorsPaper. He don’t! I do!”
“Want me to go
find him boss?”
“No. Absolutely
not! I never want to see that guy again. Nobody quits on Josh DeMille.”
That night, Vivian
paid Corky a visit. “Remember when you first saw me, Corky,” she reminded him.
“You told me I would be a star. You told me that I would make us all rich.
Remember?
“Yeah,” he said
with a reminiscing smile. “I Remember.”
“Well, you knew
that wasn’t true. You knew that unless we had Josh with his connections and you
with your moxie, we couldn’t do it. We can’t do it alone, Corky. We need you.
Josh needs you.”
“Can’t do it
Vivian. When you tell a guy he’s a washed-up old has-been, you cut him in two.
I won’t be half-a-man and go crawling back. If Mr. Big Shot wants me, then let
him come and ask.”
“Ooooh! You are
just two stubborn jackasses who couldn’t find their way back to the stable if
someone didn’t lead them by the nose.” Frustrated and angry, Vivian slammed the
door behind her as she left.
Somehow, Josh and
crew finished “Moon over Miami” without Corky. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t
good, but it was done. In the early days, sometimes that was enough.
It was part
curiosity, part jealousy that took Corky to the Hollywood Theatre first showing
that next week. He ached to be a part of the festivities. This was the best
time in all moving picture-making and he was on the outside looking in.
Josh saw Corky
across the street. Looking away as he lifted his chin in the air, Josh entered
the theatre.
Hurt, Corky turned
to leave, with one last glance back at what used to be his world. And, as God
is witness, it’s the only way anyone would have seen that small escape of smoke
from one of the side windows. His nose quickly confirmed his worse fear.
“FIRE! The
Hollywood is on fire!”
He bolted across
the street and pushed the theatre door hard, shattering its glass. He yelled to
the astonished monkey-suited doorman, standing with mouth agape.
“FIRE! FIRE! HAVE
SOMEONE CALL THE FIRE STATION LICKETY-SPLIT AND GET EVERYONE OUT OF HERE!”
Corky then disappeared into the building.
Fortunately, the
fire was detected before it was wide-spread and everyone was safely on the
street in front of the theatre, screaming, shrieking, crying, and talking
wildly as the first pumper wagon was pulled ‘round the corner by two hard-breathing horses.
Hours later, the
fire was controlled but the building was gone. And Josh, sitting on the curb in
his tuxedo, now ash-covered and torn, looked like a refugee from the Great War…
a man who had lost everything.
“Vivian. Oh
Vivian. It’s gone. The film is gone.” His authoritative voice was reduced to a
resigned whisper. “All of our money was in that film. Its success was the key
to our next movie. That fire not only burned down the Hollywood Theatre, it
burned down RockScissorsPaper just as surely.”
“Josh,” she
comforted, “It can’t be that bad.”
“We’re done, Viv. That film was our bankroll.”
“Oh, Josh…”
“Mr. DeMille!” the
doorman hollered as he approached. “Mr. DeMille. One of the firemen gave me
this before they left. Said he found it on the seat of the fire wagon.”
“Oh my God. OH MY
GOD! Vivian. Look at this…it’s the film. I can’t believe it. How did it get
there?
“The fireman
didn’t know, Mr. DeMille. It was just there.”
The headline in
the next morning’s Pacific Sun told the story. “Hollywood Theatre Burns to the
Ground: All 150 moving picture fans watching “Moon over Miami” are safe.”
The following day,
the paper interviewed Josh DeMille:
”Miraculously, the
only copy of the film was rescued. We are sure the doorman, modest as he is,
saved it from the flames. It will continue to be shown across town at the
Hippodrome starting tonight.”
When Corky read
that, he threw the paper down in disgust and stared at his now-cold cup of
coffee. “If that jerk don’t know who saved his bacon, I sure as hell won’t tell
him.”
As his anger was
about to turn to tears, he was startled by a knock on the door... and a ‘not
too welcome’ voice.
“Corky… Corky… ”
Josh pleaded from outside. “Please forgive me, my friend. Fate has given me
another chance.”
“Another chance,
DeMille?” questioned Corky skeptically as he now faced Josh. “Another chance to
be a rich man?”
“No. No. No.
Another chance to save a friendship! Will you please come back and be my
partner? I need you. I have always needed you.”
Later, as DeMille
told Vivian, she patted his shoulder and smiled approvingly.
“But why didn’t
you tell him you now know that he rescued the film?”
“I will… someday.
I just didn’t want him to think I was asking forgiveness because he did one
thing and I owed him something. I wanted him to truthfully know that I was
wrong. I took him for granted. It was
because he did so many things…and always has.
And because I owed myself something. His friendship.
“You see, Viv, I
can go broke four times and still end up a rich man… because it’s only money.
But if I loose one true friend, my chance for being truly rich is forever
diminished…by one true friend.”
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