How The
Fixer Man Got A Film Well- Hollywood Bingo-Matt Dolan’s Revenge- With Primo
Detective Fiction Writer Dashiell Hammett In Mind
By Zack
James
Matt Dolan
was a “fixer” man. No, not the drug-dealer fixer man famous, or infamous, in
mean streets lore or in the hard-edged short stories of addiction, mostly
heroin (horse, H, boy) by the crusty writer Nelson Algren, he of The Man With The Golden Arm the film
adaptation of which revived Frank Sinatra’s film career, who had that scene
down pat in an earlier age, an age when such addictions were sidebars and not
front page headlines like today. Matt Dolan, called Mack for some reason buried
so far back in childhood that nobody, including Matt knows how he came by that
moniker, was a writer, is a writer who comes in and fixes up some film, some
“picture” as they say in the trade when it is going off the wheels for any
number of a hundred reasons that a script, even if the scriptwriter is the guy
or gal who wrote the thing that the studio paid all that money for but was
getting dragged down because somewhere after production had started the thing
started turning in on itself and the studio, or more likely the producer of the
particular film, would call Mack in to bail the film out, bail the director and
everybody who worked the sets who saw their wages ending if the damn thing
wasn’t “fixed” by guys and gals like
Mack.
Sure there
are a million writers, some good, some bad who write anything from multi-week
best sellers on some publications lists to stinkpots (pardon the old-fashioned
word but it applies to some of the thousands of writings Mack had run through
in his time). Sure there are a million screenwriters, or it seems like it when
they roll the credits, mostly good or were at one time good and were either protected
by the Guild or by somebody in management who owed them something. But there
were, are surprisingly few “fixers” in the whole of the film industry and so
they command high wages (really these days some fixed amount usually in the six
figures agreed to in advance and signed on the dotted line as per Guild
agreement which covers fixers as well as all the other categories of writers
and musicians). Mack was, is among the best and has been since the 1950s when
he broke into the industry and after a few false starts, and disappointments,
got his reputation cemented when he saved the “stinker” High School Confidential.
Mack came up
with the very bright idea that that worthless cautionary tale about high school
kids succumbing to the lure of heroin provided by evil nightclub owners and
other denizens of the back alleys, the fixer man who deserves to roast for a
while in hell just as every junkie should get a free pass to heaven since they
served their collective hells on this planet, needed a big fix to take the
stink off the thing that every kid would reject out of hand because it had the
“voice of authority’ festering in it like some bleeding boil. The way Mack saw
it no kid in his or her right mind was going to sit through their precious
Saturday afternoon double-feature at the local Majestic Theater to be told
stuff they got at home every day for free, and endlessly too. So Mack, a little
younger then than the average screenwriter on the Hollywood scene and savvy to
the role that music, specifically rock and roll music after Elvis and others
broke the ground, came up with the idea of putting the then “hot” rock and roll
mad monk saint Jerry Lee Lewis on the back of a flatbed truck with his piano
and his sidemen and have the truck tooling toward the high school as he played
his flame-throwing song High School
Confidential. The film grossed a ton of money off of a shoestring budget
because all the kids cared about was that scene and then they could go back to
whatever boy-girl thing they were doing the in the dark upstairs balconies.
Mack could name his price after that, usually. All the studios wanted him.
But the
supply and demand stresses of being a fixer put a lot of pressure on Mack,
especially when he was working on some play or screenplay of his own which he
was looking to have produced. One night Mack, who besides being a fixer man
loved the ladies, loved the young ones especially even as he got older, said
they kept him young, or whatever reason older guys give these days for chasing
young skirts (or for older gay guys and lesbian women these days when the great
secret of Hollywood same sex lives has become passe and they too can openly
cavort with the younger set of their sexual identity) , was telling Jack
Callahan, an executive at Excelsior Films, the company that he had the closest
ties to over the previous twenty years
or so over drinks at his favorite watering hole, The Dirty Duck, off of Vine
Street, about how he got his first contract to fix a “stinker” at Excelsior.
At that time
maybe the summer of 1972 Max Stein called him up when he was up in Big Sur
trying to work out some kinks in a screenplay that would later be produced
under the title Love In The Park (and
which made that studio, the now defunct Blue Blaze Films, a ton of money but
not enough to keep the wolves away when they produced a big series of flops,
real stinkers, none of which they saw the wisdom of bringing him or any fixer
in on) and told him that the latest film he was producing, Hurry, My Sweet, was losing steam, needed a fixer man and he had
heard through Harry Swann at Delta Films that Mack was the man he needed. Mack
pleaded prior commitment but Max threw up a number that Mack couldn’t refuse
and so he committed to a two- week stint back down at La Jolla where the film
was shot to try to work something out of the air once again. Max sent him along
with the contract a copy of the screenplay as it was then being worked on.
What the
script was about was an old-time kind of detective story, a genre that was
making a comeback on the screen, after a long absence since the time of the
great black and white film noirs of the 1940s and 1950s. The plotline involved
as those type films always did some nefarious murder (or murders depending on
how grizzly the producer and director though they could take the thing and not
have irate parents banning their kids from spending their dough to see it) to
be solved by a resourceful detective. One hook here was that the hard-boiled
female detective, they always had to be hard-boiled whatever their gender since
the days of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler switched things up back in
the 1920s and 1930s, Patty Lane, being played by veteran screen actress Mara
Whiting.
Another hook
was that the bad guy was a bad gal, Laura Devine, played by the beautiful Gina
Saint-Germain, who had wasted her drug-dealing lover, Gary Lawlor, played by
rising star Sam Lawrence, after he had turned Laura’s sister, Sarah, played by
new comer Sissy Moore, on to drugs and to the streets doing tricks for short
money to feed her habit. The big hook though is that Sarah, after Laura wasted
Gary, was holding five kilos of pure high- grade Columbian cocaine which she
intended to sell to the highest bidder, Laura or anybody else, so she could get
off the streets and feed her own habit in private. Laura putting pure greed
over sisterly love sent some of her boys (and a girl sharpshooter as well) out
to find the sister, find the dope really. Hard-pressed Sarah looked up in the
Los Angeles telephone directory for a detective to help her out, for protection
really, and to broker a deal if necessary and came up with Patty who she thinks
is a guy because the listing of the agency was Pat Lane and Associates. Pretty
standard stuff but Mack could see where Max was a little panicky because if the
theme reflected more contemporary times and concerns it was still a “stinker”
as far as he was concerned.
When Mack
got to the set down in La Jolla not far from the university and close to the
rock-strewn ocean that was playing a nice visual backdrop to the action he told
the director, Josh Lannon well-known for working B films on short money, and
short storyline filling out the meek dialogue with plenty of action, the thing
was a stinker, no question and no amount of action was going to cover-up a
beaten down storyline. Of course Josh took umbrage at that statement saying
that he was given the thing for short money by Max and if Mack could bring it
around well fine, if not then that was that. Mack was used to that kind of
reaction and knowing he had money-man Max’s backing let it ride, let the
ill-tempered director blow off steam.
Of course
Mack also knew that once production was started, once the actors had committed
to their parts as best they could that all the interpersonal problems that face
any collective effort, egos, bruised feelings, hostility, make-shift love, and
desire for bigger roles in the film-and in future films if an actor showed
promise, especially in a stinker came into play. That is where Mack’s fixer
skills and love of younger women got a serious work-out.
About an
hour and a half after Mack got on the set while sitting in an off-stage cubicle
trying to figure out a new hook to make the audience interested enough in any
character to take a chance and see the movie Sissy Moore came into his space.
No question she was a good-looking young woman and as soon as she entered he
had ideas, knowing she had ideas. Tall, slender, red-hair, long legs, not
beautiful, not Gina Saint-Germaine beautiful for even a Hollywood novice knew,
knows that you cannot have two beautiful women on one screen because they will
not stand for it, and the audience won’t either even the women, but the kind of
woman that once the film is over you think about, think about to the exclusion
of the serious beauty.
Sissy had
heard that morning that the famous Mack Dolan was coming to fix the script and
while she was only a new-comer people around the set and around Hollywood said
with some proper training and proper roles she could be somebody. That was all
she needed to know to get her small-town girl (Lima, Ohio) wanting habits on.
She took dead aim at Mack, despite the fact that at the time she was maybe
twenty years younger than him, and he had not due to that huge alcohol and
lately drug consumption aged gracefully,
and coming right up to him so he could smell that gardenia perfume she was
wearing mixed with thoughts of hard sex ahead she laid it on the line (she, as
she told Mack after they had hit the satin sheets over at the Biltmore a few
times, knew through the usually very reliable starlet grapevine that he had a
thing for younger women, with or without the gardenia perfume).
She wanted
her part built up, thought bad ass bad girl Laura in the story, meaning really
Gina, after she wasted Gary was nothing to the whole plot, that she should be
seen more, have more lines around her ability to evade the bad boys Laura sent
after her, played more of a role helping Patty take the heat off of her. In
return Mack could have, as she rather coyly put it, given what she was
offering, he could have anything he wanted from her, anything she had to give.
Now, as Mack
told Jack that night at the Dirty Duck, there are more urban legends about how
famous stars, male and female, yes, males in the then male-dominated management
end, worked their way up the cinematic food chain by “offering anything
somebody in power wanted, anything they had to give” and a fair amount was just
that-urban legend. But even back in 1972 there was plenty of sex being traded
for stardom, or hopes of stardom, or better somebody in power taking advantage
of some youngster’s hopes of stardom before being shunted back to Topeka,
Toledo, or Boise. So Mack made his pact with Sissy, made it tight, and for the
length of his time on the set he got his ashes and whatever else he wanted
hauled by her. This time, unlike a few times before when he was a guy in power
himself playing on some young thing’s hope for stardom, his agreement to get
Sissy more screen time, more to say, was based on what he had seen in the
rushes, had seen that star quality, maybe not the top but she would not have to
sit by the midnight phone hoping for work.
Naturally
the increase of one actor’s role at the expense of another, here Gina, caused
an uproar on the set, caused Gina to say she would not perform at her usual
high level. Mack knew he had Max’s okay, since he had called him after the pact
with Sissy was consummated the first time so he was able to ride it out. Here’s
how: Mack determined that what the film needed with so many good-looking
females was more sex, or in those days when it was still dicey to get too
graphic in sex scenes, was the allure of sex. Now it wasn’t going to be Patty
as the crusading detective ready to save an errant young woman and Gina flat
out refused to do any sex scenes but Sissy, well, Sissy really was up for
anything that would get her up the food chain, especially after Mack put the
bug in her ear that such efforts would enhance her career opportunities.
There wasn’t
much that Mack could do with the script with what was already in the can but
that is when he came up with the idea that would save the damn thing. Sissy
early on as she got more addicted to the drugs Gary was feeding her and was out
doing tricks on the streets got into a situation where some guys Gary knew
propositioned her to come to a poker party with them. She agreed once Gary said
he would “make her well.” So the scene got set up in a smoky hotel room, cards
out, chips out, cigarettes out, drinks out on the table and then Sissy dressed
scantily like a Playboy bunny, popular at the time, without saying a word
starts going provocatively under the table. Nothing showing what is happening
but obviously Sissy is going down to “play the flute” as Mack put it
euphemistically in his stage directions. That B film made a ton of money for
Excelsior because all the kids cared about was that scene once they heard about
it and then they could go back to whatever boy-girl thing they were doing the
in the dark upstairs balconies, go back with a vengeance. That one scene made
Sissy a “hot” property (and forced Gina in a later film to do a “play the
flute” scene more graphically shown than anything Sissy had done) Among the
gossips of the town, among your average red-blooded males out in the
hinterlands Sissy was almost always thereafter called “the flutist” and nobody
had to ask twice who that was or what it meant. Brilliance, Mack, pure
brilliance.
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