The Carpenter

It was the summer of 1988 and Kevin Cross was looking for a place to live. His actress girlfriend Leigh wanted to live in the Hollywood Hills but Los Angeles rents were soaring. "It's too damn expensive," Kevin said. "I'm freelance and you're unemployed. How are we going to afford it?"
     "I had three auditions and a callback last week.  It's only a matter of time."
     "You've been saying that for six months."
     Leigh pouted and Kevin relented.  Their relationship was rocky and maybe a new place above the flatlands of Hollywood was what they needed.
     Kevin scoured the local papers and rental guides. All he could afford was $600 a month and everything north of Sunset Boulevard was more than $1,400. He called a realtor in Laurel Canyon.
     "Do you know anybody who's having a hard time selling their house who might be open to renting?"
     "Well there is this one place..."
     In retrospect, Kevin should have asked some questions.  But he always considered himself a pragmatist and $450 a month sounded pretty good.
     Kevin met the aging realtor halfway up Wonderland Avenue. The home was a two-story stucco townhouse with flaking paint and rusted bars fronting the balcony. It wasn't much to look at but the neighborhood was gorgeous.
     "How long is the lease?"
     "Month to month," the aging realtor said.
     "I'll take it."
     "Don't you want to look inside?"
     "I've seen all I need to see."

     Kevin and Leigh moved in that weekend. There was a bit of a roach problem and the house needed a thorough cleaning but the two were happy with their new digs.

     The nightmares began immediately. Each evening, around 2:30 am, Leigh dreamt of a gray-haired man in his 50's pushing her out of bed. As she stared into his face the man's eyes became blood red and he screamed. Leigh woke up in a cold sweat and Kevin spent the rest of the night trying to calm her down.

     Kevin reasoned that Leigh's dreams had something to do with their recent struggles. Perhaps he was the old man pushing her out of bed. Kevin vowed to be kinder. He bought flowers, cooked dinner and began placing lit candles around the house. Despite his efforts, Leigh's nightmares continued. In one especially horrifying dream the gray-haired man raised a knife and plunged it into Leigh's body. Leigh awoke screaming.

     "We have to move," she said.

     "We're not moving."

     "There's something wrong here."

     "It's the Hollywood Hills.  Isn't this what you wanted?"

     "Either we move together or I go alone. This place is haunted."

     "You're crazy," Kevin said.

     Leigh moved out a week later.

     Kevin was heartbroken but he figured their relationship was doomed anyway.

     A few weeks later on a Saturday morning Kevin was watering plants beside the driveway. A Hollywood Tour Van stopped in front of his house. The tourists stared out the window at Kevin as the driver spoke into a microphone. Kevin couldn't hear what was being said but he reasoned they mistook him for a celebrity. He'd always had a passing resemblance to the actor Richard Dreyfuss.

     The shoe dropped a week later. Kevin was sitting in his living room with a six-pack of beer watching the local news. Suddenly the television screen flashed an image of his townhouse. The TV Anchor spoke with honed gravitas.

     "Tonight marks the seven-year anniversary of the Laurel Canyon Murders. On this night in 1981 four people were savagely murdered in a small home on Wonderland Avenue. The killings involved porn star John Holmes and a local strip club owner who sought revenge for a drug deal gone bad."

     Kevin leaned forward as the television displayed an image of his living room circa 1981, splattered with blood. A body bag rested near the fireplace. Kevin looked toward the very same fireplace just five feet away. A brown stain was visible on the shag carpet. Similar stains dotted the rest of the room.

     "Son of a bitch," Kevin yelled.  He dropped his beer and ran out of the house.

     Though he wore only sandals, shorts and a T-Shirt, he sprinted down Wonderland Avenue as if the house were on fire. He kept running until he reached the realtor's office halfway down Laurel Canyon.

     "What the hell, man? How come you didn't tell me about the murders?"

     The aging realtor was eating a Cup O'Noodles. "Have a seat, please."

     "I don't want a seat. I'm gonna sue your ass."

     "I'm sorry you're upset, sir. But California disclosure laws only apply to home buyers not renters. You have no grounds for a lawsuit."

     "You rented me a possessed house you son of a bitch. My girlfriend left me and tourists think I'm some kind of freak."

     "Calm down, please. We can work something out."

     "What's there to work out? You have me living with psycho ghosts."

     "What would make it right?

     "Huh," Kevin asked.

     "You moved into the house because it was cheap, correct?"

     "Yeah so."

     "So how about if I found you another place for even less?"

     "What is it, some kind of rape house?"

     "Just trust me."

     Two days later Kevin moved into a small bungalow two blocks from the Laurel Canyon Country Store. The place was a bit moldy and it needed a paint job. But it had a backyard and a spacious garage. It also had a lemon tree filled with ripe, beautiful fruit.

     Leigh moved in a week later.

     Kevin asked about the history of the house this time. No murders had happened here. Nor was there a record of torture or kidnapping or animal cruelty. Kevin was confident Leigh would be happy. He also felt the tour vans would stay away. Of course Kevin wasn't crazy about living in Charles Manson's old home. But those were the days when Manson was still trying to make it as a rock star. He hadn't gone off the rails yet. No need to alarm Leigh. Plus, $400 a month was pretty damn good rent. (6" x 6", black ink print)

Midnight Cowboy

Midnight Cowboy marks a turning point in American cinema. It's the only X-Rated movie to ever win a Best Picture Oscar. It also signifies the moment when film shifted from studio control to an independent auteur era.

Dustin Hoffman plays Ratso Rizzo, a crippled, two-bit con artist suffering from consumption. He befriends a sexually ambiguous cowboy gigolo named Joe Buck (played by Jon Voight). Ratso becomes a pimp to Joe Buck's male prostitute and the two struggle to survive on New York's gritty streets. The film is dark and bleak intertwined with subtle humor. The relationship between Hoffman and Voight captures a platonic love between men rarely seen on screen.

When Producer Jerome Hellman was casting the lead roles, he came across Dustin Hoffman performing in an Off-Broadway play called Eh? Hoffman agreed to play Ratso Rizzo but it took a year for screenwriter Waldo Salt to write the script and another year for Hellman and Director John Schlesinger to raise the funds. During that time Hoffman starred in The Graduate and became an overnight star.

After seeing The Graduate, John Schlesinger felt Hoffman was too clean cut and collegiate to play Ratso. Hoffman asked Schlesinger to meet him at a filthy Times Square coffee shop at night. Hoffman came in character dressed in a dirty raincoat with slicked back hair and several days stubble. Hoffman begged for money, unrecognized by Schlesinger. When Hoffman finally revealed himself, Schlesinger agreed that Hoffman would "do quite well."

Hoffman relished the seedy nature of Ratso Rizzo which was the polar opposite of his ultra-preppy Benjamin Braddock character in The Graduate. (Has any actor ever had two greater first roles than Ratso Rizzo and Benjamin Braddock?) When casting the role of Joe Buck, the producers initially considered Warren Beatty, Michael Sarrazin, Lee Majors even Elvis Presley. They scoured Off-Broadway Theater and eventually found Jon Voight.

There was a charged chemistry between Hoffman and Voight. Voight traveled to Texas to study small-town good ole boys, appropriating local wardrobe and a southern accent. Hoffman hung out in the Bowery and studied street people. He obsessed over character details like Ratso's walk and his consumptive cough. He put a stone in his shoe giving him a forced limp and he donned a stained white jacket found in a bus station dumpster.

The film's most memorable scene where Hoffman screams at a cab driver "I'm walking here" was improvised and shot without permits. The drug-fueled warehouse party scene was staged by Andy Warhol and it featured prominent "Factory" personalities Viva, Ultraviolet and Paul Morrissey. Warhol planned to act in the scene himself but shortly before filming he was shot in the stomach by Valerie Solanas.

John Schlesinger needed a theme song for the film.  Bob Dylan wrote "Lay Lady Lay" expressly for the movie but Schlesinger felt it didn't work.  The singer Nilsson proposed the song "I Guess The Lord Must Be In New York City," but Schlesinger preferred Nilsson's cover of the Fred Neil song "Everybody's Talkin'."  The song went on to be a hit and became synonymous with Midnight Cowboy.

When production on Cowboy finally ended, Schlesinger feared the film was a disaster. By the end of the first screening for United Artists when Ratso was dead in the bus with Joe Buck's arm around his shoulders the theater was dead silent. Everyone was crying. The newly-created Ratings Board gave the film an X-Rating due to homosexual overtones, drug use and nudity. Critic Rex Reed wrote that "the film is a collage of screaming, crawling, vomiting humanity" while Roger Ebert scribed "it's a vulgar exercise in fashionable cinema." This only helped spread the buzz. Ticket lines stretched around the block. Audiences gave standing ovations.

Midnight Cowboy received 7 Oscar Nominations and won 3: Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Director and Best Picture. It beat out the favorite Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Today the film is rightly viewed as an American Classic. (5" x 6", black ink print)

Hunter Thompson

Hunter S. Thompson was born in 1937 in Louisville, Kentucky. His father died when he was just 14 driving his mother to alcoholism and leaving the family in poverty. Hunter found escape in athletics and petty crimes.

At age 16, he was jailed for 60 days for robbery which prevented him from graduating high school. Aimless and desperate he enlisted in the Air Force. After serving two years, he took night classes in creative writing. In 1961, he hitchhiked across country and landed a job as security guard at Big Sur Hot Springs (which later became the Esalen Institute).

In 1963 he married Sandra Conklin and the two settled in San Francisco. Thompson immersed himself in California drug and hippie culture and began writing for the Berkeley underground paper The Spyder.

In 1965, The Nation paid Thompson to spend a year riding with the Hell's Angels and writing about his experiences. The Angels demanded a share of Thompson's fees. When he refused they gave him a savage beating. His subsequent book Hell's Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs became a huge success. This led to well-paying writing gigs with the New York Times, Esquire and Harper's.

In 1967, Thompson and his wife bought a home in Woody Creek, Colorado. Thompson was deeply affected by the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy and the police beatings of protesters at the 1968 Democratic Convention. His words became more political and incendiary and his writing style became personal, rambling and manic. The journalist Bill Cardoso labeled this new subjective style as Gonzo Journalism.

In 1971, Rolling Stone hired Thompson to write about the killing of journalist Ruben Salazar by the LA Sheriff's Department. Thompson decided to leave racially-charged Los Angeles and drive to Las Vegas with Mexican-American activist Oscar Acosta. Thompson's impressionistic account of this road trip became his greatest book, Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. The novel is a hilarious drug-filled, hallucinatory rumination on the failure of 1960's counterculture and the "death of the American Dream." Accompanied by expressionistic illustrations from artist Ralph Steadman, Fear And Loathing made Thompson a literary sensation.

Hunter followed this up with Fear And Loathing On the Campaign Trail about his time covering the 1972 presidential campaign. Thompson became a vicious critic of Richard Nixon whom Thompson described as a man "who could shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time." After Nixon's death, Thompson wrote "he was evil in a way that only those who believe in the physical reality of the Devil can understand."

In 1980 Thompson and his wife divorced. Thompson became more isolated and fixated on firearms. His substance abuse continued and his behavior became increasingly erratic. In 1981, he was arrested for drunk driving and "raving" at a Colorado state trooper. He visited Jack Nicholson's house with a massive amplifier and broadcast the sound of a pig being eaten alive by bears while shooting a 9mm semi-automatic rifle at Nicholson's home.

In the 80's, editors began critiquing the quality of Thompson's work. Celebrities like Bill Murray and Johnny Depp made movies of Thompson's books which fueled the "gonzo myth" but Thompson continued to struggle. In 1990, he was accused of sexual assault at his Colorado home. Charges were dismissed though a search of his property turned up drugs and a stash of dynamite. In 2000, Thompson accidentally shot his assistant Deborah Fuller after "mistaking her for a bear" (she lived).

In 2005, plagued by numerous chronic and painful medical conditions, Thompson took his own life by shooting himself in the head. At his funeral his ashes were shot out of a massive cannon with red white and blue fireworks while Norman Greenbaum's song "Spirit In The Sky" played in the background. Johnny Depp paid for the funeral expenses. (5" x 6", black ink print)

Chaplin

It was 1934 and Charlie Chaplin, the world's most beloved movie star, was in a quandary. "Talkies" were all the rage and everyone was waiting for his new movie so they could finally hear the "Tramp" speak. The thought of another silent film was anachronistic.  But Chaplin worried that the universal appeal of his alter ego would be lost if he spoke.

Chaplin was deeply troubled by the Great Depression. "Something is wrong when five million men are out of work in the richest country in the world." After a conversation with Mahatma Gandhi who lamented "machinery with only consideration of profit," an idea took hold in Chaplin's head. He would make a satire on modern industrial life.

The resulting film was Modern Times. The "Tramp" plays a factory worker literally gobbled up by the grinding gears of industry. He struggles to keep up with the ever-accelerating assembly line where he screws nuts onto pieces of machinery. (This scene is later copied in I Love Lucy in the famous chocolate factory episode.) The industrial work overwhelms the "Tramp" and he suffers a nervous breakdown. Chaplin does finally speak in Modern Times in the form of a hilarious song, a mishmash of French-Italian gibberish that pokes fun at "talkies" while still giving audiences a taste of Chaplin's voice.

Today, Modern Times is viewed as a classic but upon it's release it received only mixed reviews and average box office. People did not appreciate Chaplin's politicizing. He was a foreigner after all and the public felt he had no right to speak ill of America which had made him rich and famous. Chaplin couldn't help himself. He'd been raised in poverty in England and he felt a kinship with the poor, the hungry and the downtrodden. He truly believed that capitalism and modern technology was displacing the American worker. If he didn't speak out, who would?

During World War II, Chaplin supported various Soviet-American friendship groups. His social circle included German emigres like Bertolt Brecht who professed pro-Communist views. In 1947, the FBI launched an investigation into Chaplin viewing him as a potential threat to national security. The FBI also leaked stories to gossip columnists like Hedda Hopper who defamed Chaplin in her columns. Based on Modern Times, the House Un-American Activities Committee was convinced that Chaplin was a Communist. Chaplin denied the charges but the political atmosphere was toxic.

In 1952, Chaplin traveled to London with his new wife Oona (the daughter of playwright Eugene O'Neill) to promote his latest film Limelight. A day after his departure, the US Government revoked Chaplin's re-entry permit. Rather than fight the government, Chaplin cut his ties with the United States. He later wrote, "The sooner I was rid of that hate-beleaguered atmosphere the better." Chaplin and Oona moved into an 18th Century mansion in Switzerland overlooking Lake Geneva. They had eight children and spent the rest of their lives together.

In 1972, the Academy gave Chaplin an honorary award for his contribution to film. He returned to the US for the first time in 20 years and was given a 12-minute standing ovation at the Oscars. Chaplin was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 1975. He died in his sleep from a stroke in 1977 at age 88. A year after his death, Chaplin's coffin was dug up and stolen by two unemployed immigrants. Chaplin's body was held for ransom but Oona refused to be extorted. The immigrants were captured and Chaplin's coffin was found in a field in a nearby village. He was reburied in a cemetery in Vevey, Switzerland. (6" x 6", black ink print)

Billy Wilder

Billy Wilder is one of Hollywood's all-time great filmmakers. His movies ranged from film noir to screwball comedy and they were known for tight plots and memorable dialogue. Wilder despised sentiment and he sought to tell stories as simply and elegantly as possible. To Wilder, "the best director is one you don't see."

Billy Wilder was born in Austria-Hungary in 1906. He was raised in Vienna where he became a newspaper reporter and a paid dancer. At age 20, he moved to Berlin and became a screenwriter in the burgeoning German film industry. Wilder was Jewish and with the rise of the Nazis he escaped to Paris. His mother, sister, stepfather and grandmother stayed in Germany and all died in concentration camps.

Wilder moved to Hollywood in 1936 where he roomed with fellow German Peter Lorre at the Chateau Marmont. Wilder and Lorre ate Campbell's Soup each day to keep from starving. Wilder's hero was German refugee filmmaker Ernst Lubitsch. Wilder was hired as a contract writer at Paramount where he teamed with Charles Brackett, a writing partnership that would last 14 years. Wilder and Brackett co-wrote two films for Lubitsch: Bluebeard's Eighth Wife and Ninotchka. Wilder would later credit Lubitsch for teaching him all he knew about film. (A sign on Wilder's office wall read: "How would Lubitsch do it?") Wanting to protect the integrity of his screenplays, Wilder became a director. His first directorial effort was The Major and the Minor with Ginger Rogers and Ray Milland. ("Why don't you get out of that wet coat and into a dry martini?")

In 1944, Wilder made what many consider to be the first true film noir: Double Indemnity. The film established the noir conventions of venetian-blind lighting and voiceover narration. Wilder's writing partner on Double Indemnity was novelist Raymond Chandler. The two despised each other and Wilder's observations of Chandler's obsessive drinking led to Wilder making The Lost Weekend, Hollywood's first serious depiction of alcoholism. During production, Wilder fell in love with actress Audrey Young who played a hatcheck girl. The two would marry and remain together for 53 years.

In 1950, Wilder made the classic masterpiece Sunset Boulevard. The film is edgy and cynical and depicts the dark side of Hollywood. At an industry screening, MGM boss Louis Mayer complained to Wilder, "You have disgraced the industry that made and fed you! You should be tarred and feathered and run out of Hollywood!" Wilder replied to Mayer, one of the most powerful men in Hollywood, "Go fuck yourself!"

In 1957, Wilder teamed with a new writer, I.A.L. Diamond. The Wilder/Diamond team would pen the classic films The Seven Year Itch, Some Like It Hot and Wilder's personal favorite, The Apartment. Wilder was considered an actor's director. He directed 14 different actors in Oscar-Nominated performances. His favorites were Jack Lemmon, William Holden and Fred MacMurray. He did not get along with Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney or Marilyn Monroe. Wilder said of Monroe, "I have never met anybody as mean as Marilyn or as fabulous on screen."

Wilder's last film was Buddy, Buddy in 1981. His career spanned 50 years and 60+ films. Wilder was an avid art collector who owned works from Picasso, Miro, George Grosz and Egon Schiele. He sold his collection in 1989 for $34 million. Billy Wilder died of pneumonia in 2002 at age 95. (5" x 7" black ink print)

The Open Road

When automobiles first appeared in the early 1900's, they could only be enjoyed by the rich and privileged. The few available roads were either cobblestone or dirt "mudtraps." Private for-profit auto clubs emerged to build roads accessible only to members.

With the advent of Henry Ford's Model T in 1908, cars became available to the masses. Cities and towns built their own asphalt roads but there was no organization on a national level. The Federal Highway Act of 1925 sought to resolve confusion between state and local routes. Highways were given a standard numerical designation--north to south highways were odd numbered, west to east highways were even numbered. Redundant numerical highways were renamed.

The automobile industry struggled during the Depression and World War II but the early 1950's saw a major increase in car ownership. Road trips emerged as a desired vacation choice and a spate of new businesses were born: gas stations, roadside diners, repair shops and highway motels. President Eisenhower argued that in the event of a foreign invasion the army would need highways to transport troops and supplies across the country. He passed the National Interstate & Defense Highway Act of 1956 which authorized the creation of 41,000 miles of highways. Today the US highway system totals more than 157,000 miles.

I love road trips. My favorite trek is driving north on Highway 1 up the California Coast. I stop for chicken pot pie at Linn's in Cambria, go jade-hunting at Jade Cove in Lucia then hike through the redwoods in Big Sur. There's something magical and liberating about leaving the city behind and taking unknown roads through small towns and the beautiful back country. You're filled with a sense of possibility and you never know where a mysterious road might lead. It can be scary too, but that's part of the adventure. The open road beckons and the lucky few heed the call. (5" x 10", black ink print)

Pacino

When Francis Ford Coppola and Paramount Pictures set out to cast the role of Michael Corleone in The Godfather, they had a disagreement. The studio wanted Robert Redford, Warren Beatty or Ryan O'Neal. Coppola wanted an unknown Italian American actor. At the time, Al Pacino had just one starring film role to his credit playing a heroine addict in The Panic In Needle Park. Coppola brought Pacino in for multiple auditions but Pacino kept blowing his lines. Producer Robert Evans referred to Pacino as "that little dwarf" and he told Coppola "a runt will not play Michael." Evans was concerned that Pacino's short stature would be a problem since Sonny Corleone was originally to be played by six foot four actor Carmine Caridi.

Coppola continued to audition actors for Michael including Robert DeNiro, Dustin Hoffman, Jack Nicholson, David Carradine and Martin Sheen. The studios began pushing James Caan for Michael but he wasn't Sicilian enough for Coppola (Caan is Jewish). Coppola threatened to quit if Pacino didn't get the role; Evans agreed as long as Caan was cast as Sonny.

A few weeks into production, Coppola began having second thoughts.  He was concerned that Pacino was playing the role as too meek and mild. "You're not cutting it for me kid," Coppola told Pacino. True to his Actors Studio training, Pacino was allowing himself time to discover who Michael was as a character. Marlon Brando understood Pacino's method acting approach. He intervened on Pacino's behalf and urged Coppola to keep him.

The scene that saved Pacino's job was the restaurant scene where Michael retrieves a gun from the bathroom and kills Sollozzo and the corrupt cop McCluskey. The scene is a tour de force of brilliant acting. Michael and Sollozzo converse in Italian with no subtitles. Since the audience doesn't know what the actors are saying, they are forced to focus full attention on Pacino's eyes, his sagging shoulders, the way he subtly moves his head to conceal his inner turmoil. The scene depicts the moment that Michael transforms from a naive young man to a vicious mob boss. It's also the moment that Al Pacino transforms from unknown actor to movie star.

Pacino was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor for The Godfather. He has since been nominated for eight Acting Oscars winning once for Scent Of A Woman. Pacino's salary for The Godfather was just $35,000. Two years later, his salary for Godfather II increased to $500K + 10% of the gross after break-even. For Godfather III, Pacino initially demanded $7 million. Coppola was so infuriated he threatened to write a new script that opened with Michael Corleone's funeral. Pacino settled for $5 million. (4" x 6" black ink print)