‘Do you want to keep him?’ the realtor asked.
Did I want to keep him? The more creatures on four legs, the better! I even stopped counting the cats who would be moving with me.
There were also two wonderful coyote-cross pups who ended up staying after my horse caretaker found them by the side of the road one day. I named them Paco and Quita. I also rescued several other dogs from pet shops where the poor babies were stuck in too-small cages and could barely turn around in their sad, cramped conditions. In a blink, they were roaming my property, running free and giving me grateful licks.
Then a girlfriend from England called wondering if I could take in her beloved English setter. Sure! What was one more? Nine dogs including the coyote pups, six horses, a bunch of cats . . .
It was heaven – and it was mine.
My dream house was a wonderful sanctuary for me, but soon I would be leaving it to go on tour. I savoured those last days, waking up in the morning to the wild birds who came calling, and riding up into the hills on my beloved horses with my pack of dogs following me. On my ride, I passed my huge veggie garden where I grew corn, tomatoes, potatoes and various other things I ate to maintain a healthy lifestyle, even before that was on everyone’s mind. My exercise was riding, dance class, tennis, hot yoga and hiking those hills.
The house cost about $365,000 for three acres and the buildings. That seemed like an incredibly large amount of money to me at that time, but now it sounds so ridiculous when you hear about real estate prices in the same area. Recently, that same house was sold for $10 million! Years after I sold it, I went back to look at it when it came on the market again. Yes, I felt a few pangs of nostalgia, but I believe in moving forward in life – and never back.
Memories are what you carry with you forever. That’s why moving forward is the healthiest and most enriching path because you bring the past moments along, but still forge brave, new territory. Think of it this way: the earth is constantly changing. We are part of her – Gaia – so we should also change. It’s just not realistic to think that anything will stay the same, because we don’t control anything. I believe it’s such a gift to embrace change.
You step in the river and you go with the flow.
Another thing I loved about that house was the privacy it offered me as my career hit new heights. I loved my fans, but a part of me needed some ‘just me’ time.
A few so-called fans didn’t agree – and wanted to get a bit too personal.
I had my first stalker at this time, and it was just so odd. This was in the days before the internet, and Mr Stalker kept sending me weird and threatening letters by mail. I didn’t read them. My security people did and it was a bit upsetting. The fact that he knew where I lived freaked me out, so I had 24/7 security at the house run by the master, Gavin de Becker.
Mr Stalker would not be deterred on his quest to meet Sandy, though. Luckily, the police finally caught this person on a traffic misdemeanour while I was on the road (thank God!). The creepiest part was that the police found a list of people he wanted to kill and my name was on it. He had already killed his entire family. Scary, scary stuff!
On my security team’s advice, I took a vacation to Hawaii. While I was catching some rays on the beach, another stalker climbed the fence surrounding my Malibu home and broke in. Gavin’s men were on the case and found this stranger relaxing in my bed. How she got in there remains a mystery. I was just glad that I wasn’t in that bed when she slipped inside the house.
Despite the minor downsides of celebrity, I continued touring, while struggling to find my next movie. After Grease was released, Alan Carr spoke to me about a film he was producing called Can’t Stop the Music.
‘You would be perfect for it,’ he said for the second, third and fourth time.
I loved Alan and will always be grateful to him, but this time I didn’t agree. The script just didn’t seem right for me and I had to decline. The film, starring the Village People, would eventually find its female star in Valerie Perrine. Alan was a bit peeved for a bit, and didn’t talk to me for years, but he eventually got over it and we remained good friends until his passing in 1999.
Reporters kept asking me when I would do my next film, but I still didn’t have a movie project in the works.
Then, in 1979, I got a call from my agent who said that there was another project featuring fantastic music in which I could play a muse. It was called Xanadu and the script was surreal and different, exploring new territory. The name ‘Xanadu’ was a direct reference to the summer capital of Kublai Khan’s Yuan empire and was prominent in the poem ‘Kubla Khan’ by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. (In Xanadu did Kubla Khan / A stately pleasure-dome decree.)
The movie musical took a leap from the source material. It would address the roller-disco craze that first swept Venice Beach in California and then the rest of the country. In fact, there were several competing roller-disco projects in the works, and the producers were determined that Xanadu would be the first one out the gate.
I wasn’t given a script, but rather a twenty-page outline, and it did sound fresh, entertaining and intriguing. I also liked that Xanadu would take audiences into a mesmerising fantasy world, and I appreciated that there was no violence in it. More than anything, I identified with the message about dreams coming true.
My muse character Kira was on a mission to help a man named Sonny Malone (who was cast late and played by actor Michael Beck) fulfil his dreams in a place that was an actualisation of his wishes. An older man named Danny McGuire (also uncast at the time I got the offer) would help them along the way. A bit of movie trivia: I suggested Aussie actor Mel Gibson for the role of Sonny. I had met Mel a few times and he was always very charming to me. He had also just made the movie Mad Max and I could see that he was going to be a huge star. The producers didn’t see it that way and turned the idea down. Can you believe it? However, Michael Beck, who’d just finished a movie called The Warriors, was a great choice.
Xanadu blended an old-fashioned musical with larger-than-life, otherworldly elements, and included massive, way ahead of their time dance numbers, tightrope walkers and even jugglers. This was all thanks to choreographer Kenny Ortega and his vision.
I was told that the group ELO had agreed to do the music and immediately I asked if John Farrar could write my songs. Director Robert Greenwald quickly agreed and John ended up writing some of my favourite songs of all time for Xanadu, including ‘Magic’ and the ballad ‘Suddenly’ along with ‘Dancin’,’ ‘Suspended in Time’ and ‘Whenever You’re Away from Me’. I sang ‘Suddenly’ with my dear friend and mentor Sir Cliff Richard. After Cliff had been so wonderful to me early in my career introducing me to English audiences, I had the opportunity to return the favour, which was wonderful.
One night Robert went to the home of the great Gene Kelly to offer him the role of Danny. I loved that Gene Kelly, legend, committed to the movie through a handshake deal at his front door. Gene also mentioned that he had a few conditions. For starters, he refused to sing or ‘touch one toe’, which meant that the legendary man of movement was refusing to dance in the movie.
Robert figured that he could change Gene’s mind down the track and they shook hands. Then I got the call that I would be co-starring in a film with one of my favourite dancers of all time.
It wasn’t long before Gene wanted to meet with the film’s choreographer, the supremely talented Kenny Ortega, who was just at the beginning of what would be a long, celebrated career, including going on to work with Michael Jackson. Something happened in that meeting that had Kelly and Kenny not only dancing in the room, but starting to choreograph some numbers for Xanadu.
Gene reconsidered. Yes, he would touch toes after all.
Xanadu was filmed on the Venice boardwalk (the muse mural), Palisades Park in Santa Monica (where Kira first kisses Sonny), and Malibu Pier (when Sonny falls into the water), plus the Hollywood Bowl (where Kira and Sonny drink champagne). Gene filmed his dancing scene at the r
eal Fiorucci store in Beverly Hills, where the rich and famous bought their suits and found their personal style.
On the soundstage at Hollywood General Studios, I worked with both Kenny and his co-choreographer Jerry Trent on the big dance scenes. The set was filled with exuberant young dancers, excited actors and a crew that believed we were creating something special. The daily energy was amped way up, which made it a really thrilling atmosphere.
I met the Gene Kelly for the first time at a dance studio in Los Angeles, where we were set to rehearse our tap-dancing number. Yes, there would be a dancing duet for me with the man who did Singin’ in the Rain! I tried hard not to let my nerves get the best of me. When they told me that Gene was going to be in the movie, they sent me for tap-dancing lessons for three months before we shot the movie. I had to learn the dance in three weeks while looking like an experienced pro. Gulp!
Now I was doing it – and with Gene Kelly! It turned out that he was a lovely man, warm, sweet and very disciplined. I loved his work ethic: Gene made it clear that he wanted to rehearse constantly, as in daily, before cameras rolled. And he was going to direct that segment for the two of us. Everyone simply nodded and said, ‘Yes, Mr Kelly. Whatever you want, Mr Kelly.’
Much too soon, it was time for cameras to roll. There I was, dressed up as a 1940s military person, walking into the studio scared to death.
That first day, I pulled out my tap shoes and Gene took me through some very basic steps, which was kind of him. Others could have just thrust me right into the choreography without the basics. That was the thing about Gene: it wasn’t about him looking like the best dancer. He wanted the entire dance to be the best dance ever, which meant everyone would look their best.
At age sixty-seven, he probably knew it would be the last time he danced on screen. Lucky me to be his partner.
We rehearsed every single day from that moment on and he was always so nice to me. He would welcome me with positivity and remind me that movement is one of our most precious gifts as human beings. Later, I would find those words to be so true when I dealt with mobility issues whilefighting cancer.
One of the other dancers who auditioned for the role of Sonny was Matt Lattanzi, but he was too young. Matt was tall, dark and handsome, and Gene jokingly called him ‘Valentino’. ‘He really does look like a young Valentino,’ Gene told me with a wink. And he knew the real Valentino!
Despite how nice and friendly Gene was, I still found dancing with him to be totally intimidating. Luckily, Kenny was always there and I made sure that he kept us in sync.
Gene had a list of rules for the day when we finally filmed the tap-dance scene. He would only do it if we shot on a closed soundstage. There could only be Gene, me, the camera operator, sound and lights, and Kenny. No one else could be present, including the film’s director.
I showed up the day of our number a little nervous, but it was wonderful to hear the music and start dancing with this icon. And it was a total relief that no one could see my trembling knees before Gene yelled, ‘Action.’ I was in a straight skirt and small heels, but the problem was we hadn’t rehearsed in the costumes. Luckily, it only took a few minutes to get used to them. Gene choreographed the dance to make me look like I had been tapping my entire life.
Gene taught me lessons that went beyond dancing. One day on the Xanadu set, he said that there had to be a raison d’être for everything you did, on the dance floor and in life. Kenny misheard him and joked, ‘What did Gene just say about be Raisin Bran? What does cereal have to do with it?’
Gene meant that there has to be an important reason or purpose for someone or something to exist. ‘We always need a reason for being. A reason at the core,’ Gene explained. ‘Something that excites you. Motivates you. Thrills you. That gives you purpose to do the work in the first place.’ I already understood that purpose is one of the most important things in life.
Just being around Gene Kelly was beyond thrilling. I’ll never forget the moment I was able to introduce my father to him. Dad was a stickler for hard work and professionalism, so meeting the great actor-dancer was a treat for him.
Gene would also dance his way through a scene at Fiorucci, where he skated around the famed clothing store on rollerskates. I couldn’t believe that he did all of his own skating for the movie. But why not? He said that he loved both ice and rollerskating since he was a boy growing up in Pittsburgh.
When you watch the movie, he might be sixty-seven, but that happy look on his face when he’s rollerskating makes him look like a boy. (I find it hard to believe, but I’m now older than Gene was when we made the movie!)
My experience of rollerskating could be summed up in one word: pain.
Michael Beck and I were filming the duet scene for the song ‘Suddenly’ written by John Farrar. (I sang the song on the album with Cliff Richard, while we skated to it in the film.) We were rollerskating and singing on a concrete floor when I took a bad step, fell backwards really hard, and landed smack on my bum. It hurt so badly that I saw stars – and I don’t mean Gene Kelly. There I was on the floor moaning in excruciating pain but insisting that in a few minutes we could continue filming the scene. Instead, I was rushed to the emergency room. It would be all over TMZ now, but in those days thankfully it was a quiet visit to the ER and a private diagnosis of a cracked tailbone. This couldn’t be happening to me. We still had so much filming to complete – and the show gave us no choice but to go on.
The doctors at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center iced my behind and gave me elephant-sized painkillers while suggesting I take a few weeks – weeks! – off to rest. I told them that was an impossibility because I was in the middle of filming a movie, and then limped back to the car with my rear end killing me.
And, of course, the movie did go on.
It was embarrassing, but from that moment on, I sat on an inflatable doughnut-like ice-filled cushion between takes to rest my tailbone. Oh, how my bum ached after the dance sequences! But somehow and some way, I did them. My lifelong work ethic kicked in. This broken muse just shut up, gritted her teeth and hoped that the magic of Xanadu would help her get through those moments between ‘action’ and ‘cut’. It turns out that my backside would be in pain for a long, long time after shooting – a little souvenir from the set.
And my tailbone incident happened unfortunately before we shot my actual rollerskating scenes. There was only one thing to do. ‘No, I don’t want a stunt double. Audiences will be able to tell,’ I told the director.
I got a little help pulling up my leg warmers, put a big smile on my face to hide the agony I was feeling, and was swept up in that moment of living in Xanadu as I rolled along.
We filmed for three months, took time off for Christmas and then did reshoots until March of 1980, including adding the gorgeous ‘Don’t Walk Away’ animation scene created by Disney’s master artist Don Bluth. I loved that the little bird figure representing me in the cartoon part had on tiny leg warmers – the same colour as the ones I wore in the movie.
Prior to our summer release, the singles of Xanadu were released on the radio, similar to Paramount’s plan with Grease. It was a great move because I had number one hits in England, Europe, America and Australia with the title track ‘Xanadu’, and ‘Magic’.
Side one of the soundtrack album featured my songs with John Farrar, and side two featured the songs of ELO. I did duets with Cliff Richard, the Tubes and even Gene Kelly for it. The album went number one all over the world.
The film opened on 8 August 1980. The reviews weren’t exactly stellar, which hurt. Roger Ebert gave it two stars, calling it ‘mushy and limp’. Ouch! He did go on to say that there were still reasons to see the movie including Gene and me, plus the soundtrack. One piece of ink that particularly stung was a headline in a newspaper that read: Xana-don’t! But it’s funny to me now.
I believe that movies find their audience, and this one was created with so much talent, love and creativity, along with the desire to take risks and mak
e a film that was utterly original. Over time, audiences embraced Xanadu, making it the cult hit that it is now. It’s constantly on cable TV and fans write that they watch it while dancing across their living rooms.
Even now, when I mention the movie, eyes light up. ‘It’s a classic,’ I hear, and that makes me proud. People still constantly talk to me about the making of the movie and there are midnight showings and sing-alongs in the United States and Europe.
I still get letters from people who wonder if Xanadu exists because they want to move there! Or they write to tell me that they’ve seen the movie eight, nine or ten times.
I think it all goes back to those amazing songs that I still sing in my shows and which get some of the biggest applause. I have to confess that ‘Magic’ remains one of my all-time favourite songs and I love how the words apply to my life. Thank you, John Farrar.
You have to believe we are magic.
Don’t let your aim ever stray.
And if all your hopes survive
Destiny will arrive
I’ll bring all your dreams alive
For you
The songs of the film Xanadu were not the only gift it gave me. Remember the young ‘Valentino’ I met on the set? Matt Lattanzi was ten years younger than me, but smart, sweet and very handsome. I liked that Matt was very down-to-earth thanks to his upbringing in Portland, Oregon, where his dad, Charles, worked as a maintenance foreman and his mother, Jeanette, was a stay-at-home mom. We became good friends and soon we were having long talks in my trailer about movies, music, life and our shared love of the environment.
He was a breath of fresh air who would soon become a very important part of my life.
I was thrilled to receive a Medal of the Order of Australia in 2010. My nephew Brett captured this magical moment!
Breaking ground for the Olivia Newton‐John Cancer Wellness & Research Centre in 2009.
Don't Stop Believin' Page 11