The Baby Maker (1970, James Bridges)

It's unfortunate that Barbara Hershey's early career was dogged by bad publicity relating to her free-spirited ways and temporary name change to Barbara Seagull because it overshadowed her fine, early-career work in films such as Frank Perry's Last Summer, Paul Williams' Dealing, and James Bridges' The Baby Maker.  If and when the Warner Archive is able to locate the elements to properly restore Last Summer, they will have nearly cornered the market on the early feature films of Hershey, as they have already released the aforementioned Dealing and The Baby Maker, as well as Lee H. Katzin's Heaven With a Gun (Hershey's feature debut).

 
With that out of the way, I'd like to delve a little more into Bridges' The Baby Maker, as I'm a longtime admirer of this filmmaker and I've only recently--finally--caught up with, this, his first feature film.  In the title role is Hershey, playing a sweet-natured college dropout happily living in free love squalor with her layabout, aspiring leather craftsman boyfriend (a very young Scott Glenn in his feature debut)--what Peter Boyle's Joe would disdainfully refer to as "HIPPIES!"--in a ramshackle Santa Monica (I believe) apartment / storefront.  Hershey's Tish is matched up by elderly fixer Mrs. Culnick (Lili Valenty) with square, upper-middle class couple Suzanne and Jay Wilcox (Collin Wilcox and Sam Groom) to carry Jay's baby.  What could easily come off exploitative and sleazy, is instead handled with a lot of sensitivity and nuance. 

The then-new concept of surrogate motherhood is no longer envelope-pushing, nor does the suburbanite vs. hippie dynamic carry the same weight, but these aspects are still fascinating to me in an anthropological sort of way.  Unlike, say, Clint Eastwood's Breezy, though, Bridges' portrayal of the youth culture feels more knowing and even-handed.  More importantly, in spite of these dated elements, Bridges' story, characters, sense of place, and knack for convincingly realistic depictions of SoCal folk remain in full force over 40 years later.  Tish's maturation, her growing bond with Suzanne and Jay, and her burgeoning personal strength...the way these things were portrayed by Hershey and Bridges was incredibly moving to me.  Forgive the hyperbole, but Hershey is incandescent here.  It's a great, unsung performance.  We've seen many birth scenes dramatized over the years, but I can't recall an actress so convincingly portraying the pain of childbirth and truly putting aside personal vanity, as Hershey does here.  This is the first of Bridges' progressively-conceived and well-written female leads, followed by the likes of Jane Fonda in The China Syndrome, Debra Winger in Mike's Murder, and Jamie Lee Curtis in Perfect.

Now, after I've just listed Tish as one of Bridges' strong female characters, I'll take a step backward for a moment to comment on just how naturally beautiful Hershey is in this film...it's enough to make me genuinely sad that it was Hershey who would be credited with the collagen implant craze, when she had her lips injected for Beaches.

The rest of the cast is superb as well, with Groom and the late Wilcox (who also appeared in Bridges' September 30, 1955) registering quite strongly after they initially appear as stiff as their characters, but it's due to their abilities and Bridges' tendency to dispel stereotypes, that they emerge well-rounded and quite sympathetic.

Bridges deserves credit for unearthing Glenn, who appears startlingly young and beautiful here, for this, his actual film debut, and then--years later--when Glenn emerged from a two-year hiatus from Hollywood in Bridges' Urban Cowboy, the "debut" of the second, more fruitful part of his onscreen career.  Glenn is alternately charming and abhorrent as Tad, reflecting the oft-mentioned (by me, anyway) New American Cinema brand of realism and honesty...may it rest in peace.

Glenn and Hershey hang out on Santa Monica Pier years before Hershey's harrowing moments there with Michael Douglas in Falling Down.

Some other noteworthy Bridges-ian things that I liked in The Baby Maker:

* Valenty's Mrs. Culnick, an elderly, wealthy, and forward-thinking mother figure of unsaid European (possibly Jewish) origin who lives alone in a fancy house in the hills and has connections with the hippie counterculture.  It is through Tish's radical friend Charlotte (Jeannie Berlin) that Mrs. Culnick meets Tish.  Seeing the underclass Tish visit Mrs. Culnick's posh house high above the city is reminiscent of underclass Mike sleeping at motherly music producer Paul Winfield's mountaintop manse in Bridges' Mike's Murder.  Like Winfield's character (based on Winfield himself), I suspect Mrs. Culnick is also based on someone Bridges knew in real life.

* The experimental movie and flashing light-watching party attended by Tish, Tad, and assorted other riffraff, which is like the 1970 equivalent of the punk / New Wave performance art party put on by Richard (Dan Shor) in Mike's Murder.

Odds and Ends:

*Part of the aforementioned "anthropological" stuff: I really enjoyed and must mention the scenes with Berlin's Charlotte and her fellow commune dwellers, particularly the piece of agitprop anti-gun public theater that they stage outside of a toy store.

*It's been awhile since I've watched Cisco Pike with Kristoffersen, Hackman, and Black, but, as I recall it, Kris and Karen's Venice Beach grungy abode reminds me of Scott and Barbara's pad.  There's lot of interesting-looking locations in The Baby Maker, something Angelinos should have a fun time spotting and ID'ing, which I can't do with any authority, being a New Yorker.

*'70s Hollywood aficionados will appreciate the appearance of Helena Kallianotes, belly dancer (which she demonstrates in The Baby Maker) and sometime actress.  She's in the famed diner scene in Five Easy Pieces, William Castle's Shanks, Rafelson's Stay Hungry and Head, and a few others.

*Future Motel Hell and CHiPs co-star Paul Linke appears in a couple of amusing scenes as one of Glenn's whacked-out pals.

Befitting its low-budget origins with another studio (National General), it's unsurprising that the Warner Archive's no-frills DVD-R comes from an un-restored, aged source.  Almost looks like a release print, but I couldn't say anything definitively, of course.  It's in the correct OAR, which is good, and, frankly, I'm surprised this (unjustly) forgotten, low-profile film came so early in the Warner Archive timeline.  If not one of the initial releases of the label in March 2009, it's close.  Again, due to its non-WB origins, it's not surprising, though no less disappointing, that there is no original theatrical trailer attached to this DVD-R.  Overall, though, The Baby Maker is firmly in my wheelhouse so I hope some others check this disc out.  Now, someone please get that Bridges retrospective off the ground!

Japanese Herald Gallery: Cruising

As most longtime readers here know, I collect Japanese heralds (programs) and I like William Friedkin's Cruising.  So, it was inevitable that I'd acquire the Cruising program at some point and post some pics here.

Leave it to the Japanese to trumpet or fetishize certain aspects of Western films and culture that would be handled more delicately, so to speak, on these shores.  Take the Cruising herald, which contains a shopping guide to leatherman accoutrements, a "Cruiging" map of leather bars in lower Manhattan circa '79 - '80, as well as tabloid clippings from the post-Cruising shooting deaths at the Ramrod in November '80.

I wish the text of this program, in particular, was in English because, based on the images, it appears there is a lot of focus on the soundtrack, locations, and real-life controversies (i.e. protests against the film and the aforementioned shootings). 

Friedkin meets his public.

The original Warner DVD of Cruising is out-of-print.  It's recently been reissued by the Warner Archive as a manufactured-on-demand (MOD) DVD-R.  That disc contains all the bonus content (commentary, trailer, doc) that the original pressed DVD had.

Camera in the Sun

Have a look at my friend Christian's thoroughly interesting, well-researched blog Camera in the Sun.  If you visit now, you'll find a familiar face at the top of the site.  We had a good chat about "Dirty Old New York" and other things, which you can read there, along with interviews with the likes of Monte Hellman and William Lustig among many others.

Dirty Old New York aka Fun City, Part III

Dirty Old New York aka Fun City continues with the third, but not final, installment.  Parts I and II have been updated recently.  Dirty Old New York Subway is here.

As it turns out, there will be a Part IV, which is already about halfway done.  Perhaps that will be a good place to stop.  I will continue to augment previous pieces, if I come across footage that fits too well to exclude.

Dirty Old New York aka Fun City

I continue my Dirty Old New York video essay series with Dirty Old New York aka Fun City, Part I and Part II.  Dirty Old New York Subway can be seen here.

All shots are connected by at least one of the following: location, film, character, actor, signage, recurring object, or recurring motif.  Try and see how many of these connections you can spot and how many films you can identify.  This is a fluid piece and probably will be revised and / or supplemented with additional footage.  I'm going to wrap this up with a forthcoming Part III.



I've tried to source everything from 16x9 DVDs, but have had to compromise this standard in some cases.

"Who Is That Guy?!": Steve Inwood

Guesting on an episode of Wonder Woman.

A face, if not a name, that should be familiar to fans of several prominent "Dirty New York"-lensed films of the early '80s, Steve Inwood seemingly left the scene as quickly as he arrived.  In truth, according to his IMDb page, Inwood hung around in the industry in guest spots and telefilms until 1997.  After that, he entered a life completely out of the public eye and information on him is scant.  But, for a few years in the late '70s and early '80s, Inwood was a reliable presence in feature films shot in New York, making a strong impression even in small roles, while showcasing a distinctive charisma and range. 

With Ben Gazzara on A Question of Honor, a 1982 telefilm.

In the 1977 Frank Sinatra telefilm Contract on Cherry Street, Inwood is part of a very impressive  ensemble of players, playing a low-level junkie informant.  With his gaunt features, greasy hair, and whiny New Yawkese, Inwood rather effectively evinces the rat-like, desperate qualities of this pathetic figure.  With beard, Inwood briefly appears as a self-assured New York fashion designer-turned-murder victim in William Friedkin's Cruising.  A brief appearance it is, but it's an interesting role, that of a successful fashion entrepreneur by day who looks for sexual hook-ups in gay peep show booths on 42nd Street after hours.  Inwood is very good here, charming and confident when we first see him at his tony Madison Avenue shop, as he closes up for the weekend, then more wary, as he goes incognito at a peep show arcade that looks a lot like one seen in Robert Butler's Night of the Juggler, also from 1980, and also featuring Inwood.  He figures heavily in one of the darkest moments in Alan Parker's Fame, as a predatory Times Square "photographer" who convinces Irene Cara to pose topless for him.  In the following year's Prince of the City, Inwood has what might be his best role, as Mario Vincente, the Rudy Giuliani-inspired assistant U.S. attorney who empathizes and works with Detective Daniel Ciello (Treat Williams) as he struggles to come clean about his role in widespread police department corruption.  These roles culminated with Inwood's fourth-billing as the ego-maniacal Broadway producer in Sylvester Stallone's Staying Alive, the critically-skewered, though financially successful sequel to Saturday Night Fever. 

As Jesse in Staying Alive.

Perhaps if Staying Alive had been a better film Inwood's next feature film part, the starring role, would have been in something more reputable than Grizzly II: The Concert.  A troubled production shot in Hungary, it attracted a fine roster of players around Inwood, including Deborah Raffin, Louise Fletcher, Laura Dern, Jack Starrett, Charles Cyphers, Marc Alaimo, Dick Anthony Williams, young George Clooney and Charlie Sheen, and John Rhys-Davies, who had this to say about Inwood in an AV Club interview:

"Now, as far as Steve… well, to begin with, is he still alive?  Poor fellow.  He was very handsome, very strong, but he had one or two problems, and I guess coming off the near-superstardom of Staying Alive, it made him… perhaps overvalue his contribution a little bit."

From there, Inwood's career mostly consisted of television guest spots, along with a few supporting parts in telefilms and direct-to-video features.  The trail ends after 1997.  Did Inwood get too big for his britches or burn bridges, as Rhys-Davies indicates in his quote, leading to his career decline, or did general industry trends make his type unfashionable?  Whatever the cause, it's unfortunate that Inwood didn't continue on the path he was on in the early '80s, because his was a face and persona that fit well with the gritty, reality-based NY features and telefilms of that time, and even if he wasn't quite a viable leading man, his talent and versatility should have translated into a more extensive career as a character player.

With Shawnee Smith in the 1985 television film Crime of Innocence.

Lost in the Lost 40 Minutes

As the credits of William Friedkin's Cruising roll, you'll see the names of James Hayden and Ray Vitte, but you won't see them in the actual picture.  That's because Hayden, tantalizingly credited as "Cockpit Coke Man," and Vitte, whose name appears in a block of performers with no assigned character names, appear to have been removed entirely from the final cut of the film.  I suspect that both actors were part of the fabled 40 minutes that Friedkin excised from the film prior to its initial theatrical release by UA and Lorimar in February 1980.  Sometime between then and Warner Bros.' purchase of Lorimar's holdings in 1989, those 40 minutes were discarded and seemingly lost forever.  This is doubly tragic because not only does it deprive fans of the film of even more Cruising, but it deprives audiences of additional performances from Hayden and Vitte, two promising young actors whose lives and careers were cut way too short.  I haven't seen James Franco and Travis Mathews' Interior. Leather Bar., a re-imagining of the missing 40 minutes, but I'd guess that Hayden and Vitte were not on their radar when they undertook their project.  Thirty years ago, though, it would be surprising if an actor in Franco's place wasn't aware of Hayden and Vitte.

Ray Vitte as he appeared in his biggest feature role, Bobby Speed, in Robert Klane's Thank God It's Friday.

I was too young to know of their work when they were alive, but as a teenager in the early to mid-'90s, I discovered Hayden in Once Upon a Time in America and Vitte in films such as Thank God It's Friday, Car Wash, and Up in Smoke.  As these films became favorites of mine, I was drawn to the charismatic, handsome Hayden and Vitte and when I researched these actors, I was saddened to learn that both died extremely young, in 1983, before they were able to build the bodies of work that their talents were worthy of.

James Hayden (middle) in his breakthrough role in the 1983 Broadway revival of David Mamet's American Buffalo, opposite Al Pacino and J.J. Johnston.

When I finally saw Cruising a few years later at Film Forum, I was surprised to see Hayden and Vitte in the credits and figured I'd missed them somewhere in the crowds of hedonistic young men who appear throughout the the film.  After repeated viewings, I confirmed to myself that I hadn't actually missed them somewhere and that they simply weren't in the final (and only available) version of the film.  It was within the next couple or three years that Friedkin began talking about a missing 40 minutes in interviews; there was hope that he'd be able to locate and re-integrate some or all of that footage into a new version of the film for DVD.  As it turns out that, that footage is no longer extant and the filmed record of the "Cockpit Coke Man" and unnamed Ray Vitte character appears to be gone for good.

Hayden (middle), backstage with Pacino and unidentified friend.

There is an excellent, in-depth New York magazine profile of Hayden, archived here, that goes into much further detail about the actor's humble beginnings, fast rise, and untimely passing...

Hayden (second from left), in his most significant film role, as Patsy in Leone's Once Upon a Time in America.

In short, Hayden was coming off acclaimed Broadway turns in a revival of Arthur Miller's A View From the Bridge and David Mamet's American Buffalo, supporting Al Pacino, and had a role in the upcoming Sergio Leone gangster epic Once Upon a Time in America, opposite Robert De Niro, when he succumbed to a heroin overdose in the early morning hours of November 8, 1983.  He was a few weeks shy of his 30th birthday.  Bold-faced names at his Queens funeral included co-star and close friend Al Pacino and Mickey Rourke (who dedicated his performance in The Pope of Greenwich Village to Hayden).  Hayden had recently been accepted by his friend Lee Strasberg into the Actor's Studio.  On the young actor's passing, Arvin Brown, who directed him in his two major theatrical roles, characterized him as a "great artist" and "genius," whom he compared to a young Meryl Streep.

With De Niro on location in Italy.

Hayden was a Brooklyn boy, whose working-class background would suggest an acting career was unlikely, but after a stint in the army as a 17 year-old in the waning years of Vietnam, he entered the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, supported himself with the usual odd jobs, and eventually ingratiated himself with the company of David Rabe's The Basic Training of Pavlo Hummel starring Pacino.  He was allowed to clean up backstage and cultivated a friendship with Pacino, which likely led to his role in Cruising.*  A few years later, Hayden was starring opposite Pacino and J.J. Johnston in the revival of Mamet's American Buffalo.  Famously loyal to his friends, Pacino would lobby hard for Hayden to get the role of Manny in Scarface, but the Black Irish Hayden was deemed less suited to the role than Steven Bauer.  Hayden, though, quickly got over that setback by landing a key role as a member of De Niro and James Woods' gang in Leone's Once Upon a Time in America.

Hayden doesn't necessarily get any big, "look at me," moments in the Leone film (those belong to the stars, Woods, in particular), but I've always been especially fond of the glee mixed with cold-blooded efficiency that he displays as he surprises Burt Young's rather despicable mafioso, Joe.  It's his chance to step out of the shadow of De Niro and Woods.

On the underrated The First Deadly Sin with Sinatra.

But, there was a dark side to Hayden and he struggled for years with a heroin addiction that started when he was a teenager in the Army and which he kept hidden from most.  So it was with sad irony that Hayden would die from an overdose while talking long distance with his wife just hours after receiving standing ovations for his performance as a junkie in American Buffalo.  Hayden had once told a reporter that the greatest tragedy of Vietnam was the widespread drug problems that tormented soldiers brought back with them.  Even though he had been spared a tour in-country himself, the still-impressionable teen apparently picked up a drug habit through his contact with returning servicemen. He spent his remaining years battling this addiction while also trying to help his lifelong best friend kick his own debilitating drug dependency, a battle they both sadly lost.  Hayden didn't live to see the release of Once Upon a Time in America and his death prompts the inevitable "What might have been?" question, as does the death of his Cruising compatriot Vitte.

As Rodolpho in Miller's A View From the Bridge (with Saundra Santiago) in a performance he dedicated to the memory of his late best friend Michael Kukul.

*Hayden's good friend Jay Acovone would land the pivotal role of Skip Lee in Cruising and famously cry out, "Who is that guy?!" during the infamous interrogation scene.

Jay Acovone, as Skip Lee, being threatened with the ominous-sounding "floating ball" test in Cruising.

A fellow New York native, Ray Vitte did most of his professional work in television and film on the other coast, so Cruising stands out in his abbreviated filmography as one of the only films or television episodes he shot in New York.   I would love to know how Vitte came to be in New York for the 1979 production of the film and what his part entailed, and wonder if Mr. Friedkin has any recollection of the up-and-coming actor on Cruising.

As Bobby Speed in publicity still for Thank God It's Friday.

A few years prior, he appeared on Broadway in Ron Milner's What the Wine-Sellers By, directed by Michael Schultz (Car Wash), alongside a host of notable black actors of the day.

An early head shot.

According to a 1977 Soul Magazine profile, Vitte got his professional start in a play at the Scorpio Rising Theatre in the early '70s, which was followed by several years of solid episodic work and small to medium-sized roles in a number of Hollywood features, including Airport '75, Mother, Juggs, & Speed, Nine to Five, A Force of One, Heart Beat, in addition to the aforementioned films.

This profile of Vitte presents a man who credits "the Creator" for the good things in his life and who also believed in the power of pyramids, after being introduced to that form of spirituality by the legendary Gloria Swanson on the set of Airport '75.

There is not as much easily accessible information about Vitte's off-camera life and even the questionable circumstances of his death, following a struggle with the LAPD, are frustratingly murky and incomplete.  On February 20, 1983, after what was described as some kind of mental breakdown in his Studio City home, in which Vitte was heard loudly ranting and "religious shouting" for some 12 hours, police officers were called to the residence by neighbors.  In the process of being apprehended by the police and after a physical altercation, the unarmed Vitte died, a death officially attributed to "liver degeneration as well as heart failure."  The Vitte family and attorney Johnny Cochran brought forth a lawsuit disputing that official story, but I don't the know the particulars of the case or what kind of resolution there was, if any.  Vitte had spent time in the hospital earlier that month with a high fever, which may have contributed to his mental state on the day he died, but he had no drugs in his system at the time of death, and friends, including Donna Summer, and family attested to the fact that he was not a drug user.  There was a struggle with police, but authorities described his injuries from the fight as "superficial."  It certainly sounds like another well-earned black eye for the LAPD, but, as I said, details are scant.  Times obit and Jet article on Vitte's death.  Vitte was 33.

As Geronimo, in Car Wash, with Richard Pryor.

In the pieces that I've seen Vitte in, he easily essays the part of fun-loving and, sometimes, wild dude, with the good looks, charm, and comic timing to make it look easy.  I'm interested to see more of his dramatic work, which would be represented in his episodic gigs on hour-long dramas such as Harry O, now available via Warner Archive.

Sporting a great look in Car Wash.

As with Hayden, it's natural to wonder what might have been with Vitte, had he lived. We'll never know that answer, but with renewed interest in Friedkin and Cruising, due to his recently-published memoir and Franco's Interior. Leather Bar, perhaps we can at least get a clearer picture of Hayden and Vitte's roles in that lost 40 minutes.

With Nick Nolte (as Neal Cassady) on John Byrum's Heart Beat.