Scouting for THE TALL WOMEN and casting BALLAD OF A BOUNTY HUNTER

From: SO YOU WANT TO MAKE MOVIES

My Life As An Independent Film Producer

by Sidney Pink

Now with the casting completed, we needed only to find locations for the cruel and vicious terrain the script called for. The seven women were going to go through hell as presented in the script, and I intended to impart the feeling of realism required.

There would be no makeup or sophistication about these women except in the opening sequence, where we would allow the two circus performers, played by our Italians, to appear as overblown as people envision circus women to be. The character played by Maria Perschy, a German woman looking for a new life with her husband and babe in arms, could not look glamorous. When her child is killed in the first Indian raid, she goes slightly mad, leaving no room for glamour. Maria Mahor played a Southern belle whose idea of makeup was to pinch her cheeks instead of using rouge. Perla Cristal portrayed a buxom Mexican woman and was not called upon to be anything but earthy, while Crista was a sixteen-year-old Irish refugee, totally naive and unworldly. Anne Baxter played a spinster schoolmarm, brainwashed by her sister and brother-in-law (also members of the caravan) into making the long trek west with the "brides for pioneers" party. This ill-assorted, nothing-in-common group would find themselves involved in a journey that no other women in history had ever faced. Glamour was out, removing the specter of jealousy and calls for the makeup artist that would ordinarily have dogged a picture with so many beautiful and talented actresses.

We sent our production manager and a team to Almeria, where most of FINGER ON THE TRIGGER was shot, with instructions to find the most desolate area in that most barren part of Spain. I armed them with pictures of the Arizona desert and demanded this be duplicated before they returned home. I needed no fewer than five hundred horses and Indians, thirty-six Conestoga wagons, and a dozen buckboards for our caravan. I gave them picture books of the Indians with sketches of the kind of valleys and hills needed for the ambush and fight scenes. Part of tyhe action took place in a cave, and since I refused to have a fake one built in the studio, we needed one large enough to permit the seven women and our camera crew to work in relative comfort. These challenges guaranteed that the production team would be gone a minimum of three weeks, allowing me to get going on the other films we needed to put in production to fulfill our contract commitments.

We soon learned that signing a contract does not automatically assure its fulfillment. Involvement with so many people and so many production headaches at one time guaranteed sleepless nights for our whole crew. Elorietta was busy with his Western, and as I had learned long before, the best way to ensure a completed, acceptable film from him was to leave him to his own devices unless he asked for help. He was on schedule and seemingly happy until he ran into a problem he was unable to resolve.

His script called for a sixteen-year-old actor, and he had been unable to find a Spanish youngster able to master English sufficiently to do the dialogue. He would be at a standstill if he didn't get someone immediately. I resolved that problem quickly by having my fifteen-year-old son Philip play the part. Although Phil had never acted before, his entire life had been spent in and around movie stages, and I figured some of it had to rub off. He played the part as though he had been an actor all his life, and he developed a long-lasting relationship with Elorietta that made my life more simple. Elorietta wanted him on every picture as dialogue director and assistant, and Philip kept me informed of everything that went on in Elorietta's productions without anyone feeling I was spying. Philip did a great job for us and soon made a reputation for himself based on his own talent.

Ernie on GO NAKED IN THE WORLD (1961)

From: ERNIE the autobiography

by Ernest Borgnine

This melodrama starred Tony Francoisa and Gina Lollobrigida. Tony was all right, but we hated Gina. She was difficult to work with. It got to a point where, one time, Tony ran her right into a post at the bottom of the stairs. I mean, he ran her right into it. Kaboom!

That poor director, Randald MacDougall. He wanted to make a shot of her walking on the beach as the sun was going down. Everyone kept saying to her, "Come on, come on, the sun is setting." But she said, "I have to paint my toenails first." Of course, they lost the shot. And they never would have seen her toes. I guess she needed that to get in character of something.

Gina didn't know that I could speak Italian. Her husband was telling her in Italian, "You have to give it more, this guy's too much balls for you." But as she cranked it up, so did I. I knew exactly what she was doing.

I never said a word. Then one night after work, I said to her in perfect Italian, "Senora, di buona notte, era il mio piacere funzionare con voi!" - "Good night, senora, it was a pleasure to work with you."

She turned white down to her painted toes.

Sidney Qualifying for Coproduction Subsidies

Crista Linder in THE TALL WOMEN.

From: SO YOU WANT TO MAKE MOVIES

My Life As An Independent Film Producer

by Sidney Pink

With coproduction companies in two countries ready to go, our next step was to comply with the government regulations in order to participate in their subsidy programs. For THE TALL WOMEN to qualify as an Italian film, we needed either an Italian director or cameraman plus two Italian featured players and an Italian lab. I hired a prize-winning cameraman, Marcello Gatti, and two Italian actresses whom I auditioned and cast in Rome. I selected Rosella Como, an experienced professional who added luster for Italian distribution. Rosella had done some fine work and was well-known in that country. For the second actress, I cast a young well-endowed Italian beauty, Adrianna Ambezzi. Well-endowed was an understatement of her physical attributes; she was a young, more beautiful Sophia Loren, and she fit her part as though it had been written for her.

Our last task was to select a laboratory, and although I had never conceived of a laboratory that would take part in any crooked schemes, I found one in my selection of Techno-Stampa Labs. I was really interested in Technicolor, Roma, but that lab was still using the process of tri-colored matrices, a much more expensive and complicated process that did not fit our budgets. I later learned the folly of trusting a local lab. In any event, we arranged for our Italian print financing with Techno-Stampa, and I returned to Madrid for final casting and principal photography.

Only four parts remained to be cast, and I needed at least three top-quality actresses for the demanding roles that were left. Hoping for a German coproduction, I called Artur Brauner in Germany, who informed me Maria Perschy (a popular German star) was in Spain at the time. Her beauty and talent brought her to the attention of Paramount Studios, who brought her to the states, polished her English, and then miscast her. Disgusted, she gave up her American contract to return to Europe. We contacted her in Torremolinos. She liked the script and was delighted to have the opportunity of working with Anne Baxter.

I was able to get two fine Spanish actresses for two other major roles. Perla Cristal, intelligent and quite beautiful in a very earthy way, became my favorite Spanish actress and appeared in many of the films we made there. Another major role required a performance of Bette Davis quality, so we selected Maria Mahor, a stage actress. The last principal role was filled by a young German star of X-rated films, Crista Linder. It was strange, but this little tart gave the part an innocent, waiflike flavor it needed.

That left only three secondary roles, all for men. For the leading man, who would supply the hint of a romance with Anne Baxter, I selected my mainstay Spanish actor, Gustavo Rojo. He spoke perfect English and had been under contract to MGM for several years where he was being groomed for stardom. I never found out what happened and I never asked him why he left such a promising career, but I was lucky he did. Gustavo Rojo was as handsome as any leading man in the world, and he was a consummate and polished actor. He appeared in almost every movie I produced in Spain.

For the part of the friendly Indian chief, I cast Fernando Hilbeck (of PYRO), and as the vicious Indian, I selected one of Spain's best villains, Luis Prendes (whom I also relied on for many other films, although he spoke no English). He played many villains for me, but then again, when I gave him a sympathetic role in THE CHRISTMAS KID, he played the hell out of it.

Alec Guinness on STAR WARS

From: A POSITIVELY FINAL APPEARANCE

A Journal 1996-98

by Alec Guinness

A refurbished STAR WARS is on somewhere or everywhere. I have no intention of revisiting any galaxy. I shrivel inside each time it is mentioned. Twenty years ago, when the film was first shown, it had a freshness, also a sense of moral good and fun. Then I began to be uneasy at the influence it might be having. The bad penny first dropped in San Francisco when a sweet-faced boy of twelve told me proudly that he had seen STAR WARS over a hundred times. His elegant mother nodded with approval. Looking into the boy's eyes I thought I detected little star-shells of madness beginning to form and I guessed that one day they would explode.

'I would love you to do something for me,' I said.

'Anything! Anything! the boy said rapturously.

'You won't like what I'm going to ask you to do,' I said.

'Anything, sir, anything!'

'Well,' I said, 'do you think you could promise never to see STAR WARS again?'

He burst into tears. His mother drew herself up to an immense height. 'What a dreadful thing to say to a child!' she barked, and dragged the poor kid away. Maybe she was right but I just hope the lad, now in his thirties, is not living in a fantasy world of secondhand, childish banalities.

Sidney forms his own Italian production company.

From: SO YOU WANT TO MAKE MOVIES

My Life As An Independent Film Producer

by Sidney Pink

I returned to Madrid with my signed contracts and a start date for THE TALL WOMEN. Since I was directing the film myself, I needed to get the rest of the productions ready before beginning a personal project. Our second picture was to be Elorietta's WITCH WITHOUT A BROOM starring Jeff Hunter. Elorietta was ready to go on this project, but I was leery of bringing Jeff Hunter to Spain since I had no second picture for him. By contract we had to start his second film no later than two weeks after he finished the first, so I called Jack Gilardi to delay Hunter's starting date and substituted Tab Hunter as the star of FICKLE FINGER OF FATE. I had no director for the picture and I refused to consider a European director for this fast-paced Henaghan script, so I asked Jack to find a young new director for the film. Seto was finishing DRUMS OF TABU, so I authorized Elorietta to do another Western starring Jim Philbrook while I went to work on THE TALL WOMEN.

This script created quite a furor in the European film world. The idea of a Western with an all-female cast intrigued foreign distributors, and coproduction offers came pouring in. It was then I got the idea that was so logical it just had to turn sour. While I was in Rome for FINGER ON THE TRIGGER, I met Lucio Bompani, a production manager whose advice I respected. He was a rarity, since the Italian film world was full of glib, fast-buck entrepreneurs. It was the main reason that country's movie industry was held in such low esteem. Spanish producers coined a saying: "Beware of the Italians - they're so quick that when you shake hands, hurry and count your fingers before they leave to be sure you still have five." Other than Lucio Bompani I never met an Italian moviemaker who could refute that adage.

I brought Lucio to Madrid to explore the possibility of forming our own Italian production company. I had in mind making our entire lineup as Spanish-American-Italian coproductions, thereby qualifying for the Italian film subsidy as well as the Spanish. Lucio agreed to look for a means of accomplishing it and returned to Rome. Ten days later he called with the news he had found a solution, and he suggested I come to Rome for discussions. There he introduced me to the director of a small distribution company, Mirko Purgatori.

Mirko was a tall, bluff and hearty, mustachioed Italian Walter Pidgeon. He looked honest, he had an honest smile, and Lucio conjectured that while he didn't know for sure, he might even be honest. Operating under the "if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it must be a duck" theory, I proposed the formation of a company with Purgatori as the official Italian head and legal owner. He became enthused as soon as he learned of our extremely ambitious program, already planned and financed. There was no need for investment capital by anyone, and he could become a part of it at no risk.

With this news, Mirko became very obsequious, and I was suddenly his "Capo" (Boss). Together we organized Domino Films as an Italian production and distribution company and Mirko agreed to hold all the stock for us. Unfortunately, he was neither a Pepe Lopez Moreno nor an Antonio Sau, and I had reason to regret my reliance on the duck theory. I should have waited.

Ernie on Victor Mature

From: ERNIE the autobiography

by Ernest Borgnine

...DEMETRIUS AND THE GLADIATORS, which was a sequel to a very popular film, THE ROBE. I had to try out with a whole bunch of guys to play the head of the gladiator school. They let the crew pick, and the crew all voted for me. So I got the part, with Victor Mature and the wonderful Susan Hayward heading the cast.

It was a good experience - what boy, even on who was thirty-seven, didn't like playing with swords?...

Susan Hayward was a doll - beautiful, funny, talented, about as unaffected as a superstar could be. Mature was all right. He had been a leading man for five or six years, most famously as Samson in the Cecil B. DeMille picture. He was pleasant and easy to work with, but I don't think he took movie acting all that seriously. He had started on the stage at the Pasadena Playhouse. And it's easy for stage actors to be a little cynical about movies. Instead of doing a show from start to finish, you do it in little pieces. You psych yourself up, the camera rolls for a few minutes, then you go back to your trailer or dressing room and read the paper. It's serious work, but if you screw up, you can do it over again. There isn't the same kind of pressure. A lot of actors don't enjoy film as much as they do the stage, but you get paid so much it's tough to say no. I think Victor was one of those guys. He also had a "me vs. them" attitude towards the studios, which I found out about a year later when we did a picture called VIOLENT SATURDAY. Lee Marvin was in that one, too. One day, Richard Fleischer, the director, asked if Mature would dive underneath a car. The actor said, "No way!"

Fleischer was a little taken aback. "What if we dig a hole underneath there, would you dive then?"

"I'm not going underneath that car!" Victor replied.

He told me later that he refused because he had once done a scene for Columbia and broke his leg on a motorcycle. He wasn't compensated for it, so his attitude was to hell with them all - he wasn't doing anything dangerous.

Lee and I thought he was being a little prissy about it. I mean, this was a different situation for a different director and not really that dangerous. It's part of what an actor is supposed to do. But Victor had his own view, and I guess he was entitled to it.

Not an auspcious start for Sid Pink and Westinghouse.

From: SO YOU WANT TO MAKE MOVIES

My Life As An Independent Film Producer

by Sidney Pink

Pack and Israel released a series of publicity blurbs filling the trades with the triumphant entry of Westinghouse into the world of film production. Suddenly, it seemed I was an employee of Westinghouse and Richard Pack had miraculously become an executive producer. I have a mention to maintain my self-esteem, so I paid little attention to the hoopla generated by Pack.

He convinced McGannon this instant success was easily duplicated, and so he was able to take the first step in empire building: He hired two assistants and now had his own staff. He also received the go-ahead to find other producers for similar deals, the intent being to make WBC a distributor of theatrical movies for television and, of course, to feed their "owned and operated" local stations.

Dick Pack's ambition had always been to become a producer, and his frustrations at having been relegated to minor production tasks now had a chance to correct themselves. He hired Jack Feldman, a mild-mannered, inoffensive young college graduate whose main talents lay in the field of accounting and budget control. Why Westinghouse needed a budget consultant was not immediately apparent to me, since by contract our company had the sole responsiblity for creating and maintaining production budgets. WBC had a fixed cost, and that was all the company could ever be called upon to pay. As it turned out, Jack and I never had any problems since his needs were easily fulfilled and there was never any abrasive action on his part.

For his own assistant, Dick hired Howard Barnes, a graduate of the slimy world of advertising. Howard had worked in several large agencies as a production coordinator, whatever that meant. He apparently had read a lot of books about film production since he was familiar with the jargon, but he had no concept or practical knowledge of the actual process. A smattering of theory mixed with absolute and abysmal ignorance along with driving ambition made him a real monster. He was, of course, pleasant-looking and well spoken, or he could never have survived the ad agencies. Like Dick, he was an experienced survivor of the "ass-kissing, find the soft spot" world of modern corporations. Dick Pack had hired himself a male "Eve".

I had very little respect for Dick Pack's talent, and I did not take kindly to his attempts to add his creative ideas to our program. He was too oily in his approach, and I instinctively mistrusted everything he did. In retrospect, this seems almost paranoid and Howard Barnes did nothing to reduce my uneasiness. Howard's attempts to butter us up made him come off as a hypocritical phoney. Anne Baxter despised him, and none of the actors had a kind word to say about him. I resented comments by Pack, but I positively bristled at any word from Howard Barnes.

This was not an auspicious start for our new joint venture, but Arnold and Peter made me hold my tongue and go along with the new changes. Howard was named production coordinator and was to spend time with us on the set as the liason between our two companies. He was responsible for evaluating any script changes that might be needed to satisfy production demands, but where there was disagreement, his word was not final. It was as stupid as putting a fox in the chicken coop to protect the chickens. If I had retained my sense of humor, I would have probably seen the ridiculousness of the situation and laughed at what had to happen. But in my active dislike for these kinds of parasites, I totally forgot I had a sense of humor and let it get to me.