Last Man Standing: Tales from Tinseltown

by Moore, Roger

  ‘Terence Young was a terrible misogynist,’ Johanna told me, ‘and so the idea of working with a female scriptwriter didn’t appeal one bit. He brought in Wolf Mankowitz, who wanted to make the villain a monkey – which appalled Cubby – and then Richard Maibaum and Berkely Mather (whose novel The Pass Beyond Kashmir had been optioned by the duo that year) were brought in to add a man’s touch. However, it was largely my script they ended up filming, as it was closest to Fleming’s book.’

  During filming of Dr No, Johanna was dispatched to Paris to start work on adapting another of Fleming’s books, From Russia With Love. Consequently she only ever visited the set of Dr No once for a meeting with the producers. She later heard Terence Young dismiss her as ‘my script girl’, suggesting she only contributed one or two ideas in the screenplay.

  Though she later wrote the screenplay for Call Me Bwana, which EON produced in 1962, she moved to Paris to work for Reader’s Digest, having grown somewhat dispirited by the (then) male-dominated industry.

  Bwana, incidentally, was all set in Africa but the crew didn’t get quite that far. Gerrard’s Cross Golf Club, a mile or so from Pinewood Studios, doubled for the location, with the addition of plastic palm trees and three imported giraffes, an elephant and a zebra. At night they used to let the animals roam around the course – simply closing the gate at the end of the day’s shoot. Filmed in the freezing winter, back at the studio they would knock the snow off the potted palms and pretend it was Africa. The fact you can see the actors’ breath in the film didn’t matter – much like in my days shooting the glamorous locations of The Saint on the Elstree backlot.

  Aside from Bwana and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang in 1967, Cubby concentrated primarily on producing Bond films for the rest of his life. When once asked if he felt frustrated at having confined himself to 007, he said that he had a tiger by the tail and that he couldn’t let it go!

  It’s incredible to think that we are all now looking forward to the twenty-fourth Bond film – twenty-four films and still the world’s biggest film franchise! I can’t wait, personally. I think Daniel Craig is a tremendous Bond and I know that Cubby would have been delighted to see him in the role – he’s the perfect 007 and looks as though he could actually kill … whereas I just hugged or bored them to death …

  Producer Elliott Kastner – with whom I’d worked on North Sea Hijack in the late 1970s – used every trick in the book to make sure he got the film he wanted. Nothing wrong with that – it’s what all good producers do.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Producers

  WHILE THE WRITERS AND DIRECTORS COME UP WITH interesting ways to spend the money, it’s the producer’s job to raise it. Apart from being perhaps the most prolific of all British film producers, Harry Alan Towers was one of the more colourful characters of the British film business, racking up over 100 big-screen producing credits, plus another fifty-odd as a writer. Granted, many of them were cheaply made action, horror and soft-porn movies, but Harry had no interest in winning plaudits or awards; he just wanted to entertain and make a quick profit.

  Though I never worked with him, I knew many cast and crew who did and who, in turn, regaled me with their tales.

  One such was from Fred Turner, who was the managing director of Rank Film Distributors in the 1980s and 1990s. When Fred took his annual holiday one year, Harry – or El Sombrero as he was known by his crews due to his initials HAT – rolled up to see Fred’s deputy and said, ‘George, I’ve got this most wonderful script by a very talented writer named Peter Welbeck and I think it’s right up your street.’

  Harry didn’t bank on the Deputy MD knowing that Peter Welbeck was in fact his pseudonym and the script had been knocking around Wardour Street for months. That was Harry, always looking for the main chance.

  Peter Manley, who was production manager on some of my Saints and made a few films with El Sombrero, told me about one time he was with Harry on a film in Marrakesh. Apparently every weekend HAT would go off to London with the negative in his suitcase and the following Monday he would arrive back with a case full of unexposed film and cash to pay the crew – all highly illegal back then, of course.

  One Monday Harry didn’t come back – and by Wednesday there was still no sign of him and the crew were about to mutiny and stop shooting. Peter persuaded them to carry on, as he knew they would be in a better bargaining position if they were still working.

  Sure enough, the following week Harry arrived and asked how it was all going, but he hadn’t brought any cash with him. It wasn’t untypical of Harry to have cash-flow problems. He asked for the film that had been shot in his absence but – thinking on his feet – Peter told him it was in the hotel safe and couldn’t be released until Harry had paid the crew. Harry fumed and jumped up and down a bit but then shot off somewhere, only to return a day later with the cash.

  Harry was a chancer, a charmer and a shrewd businessman who would put together the most obscure and complicated co-production deals involving countries you’d never heard of, and he found film-friendly tax shelters in the furthest-flung corners of the world. He churned his movies out at a rate of knots – mainly because he had to make the next film to pay off his debts and crews on the last.

  Sir Larry Olivier and producer Harry Alan Towers – HAT or El Sombrero to his friends – another producer who knew a few tricks.

  He would never not pay, he was just very tardy.

  John Llewellyn Moxey, who directed some of my Saints, made one picture for Towers but ‘stopped shooting until my cheque cleared,’ he said.

  Director Michael Tuchner checked in to a hotel somewhere in deepest Europe one day while on a recce for a (non-HAT) production. The manager greeted him warmly and said, ‘I understand you are in the film business?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Michael.

  ‘Do you know Mr Harry Alan Towers?’

  ‘Well, I know of him,’ Tuchner replied.

  ‘Then please would you take this bill to London and ask him to settle it?’ asked the distraught manager.

  HAT would often shoot two films back to back or in the same locale to benefit from the economies of scale. One such case was when The Call of the Wild was on location a few miles from his big-screen version of Treasure Island with Orson Welles, supposedly one of his oldest friends. Peter Manley, who was associate producer on The Call of the Wild, suggested to HAT that it would be great to have Orson Welles appear in his film in a day role, and might he consider allowing Welles to come over from the other side of the valley? Realizing that Orson would ask for more money, Towers declined, saying, ‘I wouldn’t wish him on you, Peter!’

  Incidentally, of the former film, its star, Charlton Heston said, ‘The worst film I ever made was The Call of the Wild. How can you possibly screw up that story? You may well ask. The root of our troubles was the producer, a sort of rogue Brit who flickered shadowlike in and out of the country to avoid his various creditors. What we finally ended up with was a joint British/American/Norwegian/German/French/Italian/Spanish co-production. There are many good actors in all these countries whose English is perfectly competent. Our producer did not hire them.’ Ouch.

  For many years HAT could not enter the US without the threat of being arrested, after jumping bail there in 1961. By all accounts he would arrive in New York with some lovely ladies and, to help seal various finance deals for his films, he would leave the young ladies with the executives for the afternoon … and very obliging they were too, I hear. The vice ring was soon uncovered and Towers was arrested.

  HAT made a living from adapting public domain stories and was not averse to a little thinly disguised plagiarism. He would often arrive on location for one film, having written a screenplay for the next film on the plane over. Yet, despite his sausage factory approach, Towers managed to attract big-name actors such as Orson Welles, Jack Palance, Michael Caine and Christopher Lee – sometimes more than once. In fact, my Golden Gun adversary starred in five of HAT’s Fu Manchu films, based
on the characters created by Sax Rohmer. The first, The Face of Fu Manchu was rather good but then ...

  ‘Brides of Fu Manchu was tosh,’ Christopher said. ‘An extravagant publicity stunt almost sank the picture. At the instigation of producer Harry Alan Towers, who took an enthusiastic part, I toured European countries choosing from each the winner of a national beauty competition, whose prize was a part in the film. They titted about the set, draped themselves about pillars in Fu Manchu’s great stone den, and between takes some draped themselves about members of the unit. But they could not show themselves off to best advantage because they were not members of Equity and therefore they had not a line to speak between the whole dozen.’

  That didn’t deter HAT though, who went on to film The Castle of Fu Manchu – a Spanish/Italian/West German co-production shot in Turkey – beginning with Fu freezing the Atlantic and wrecking an ocean liner via spliced-in clips from A Night to Remember, tinted a spectral blue in an attempt to disguise the fact that they were shot in black and white and the rest of the film is in colour!

  On another occasion HAT was in Rio shooting a film with his favoured director, Jess Franco, who had a reputation for shooting very quickly. They were over a week ahead of schedule, with their next shots being of the finale of the Rio Carnival. Faced with putting his cast and crew on paid hiatus to await the annual festivities, HAT decided to write a script called 99 Women over the weekend and, with his three female leads, director and crew, shot its action and location sequences in five days, before resuming work on the other film. By the time he returned to London he had one complete film and another third of 99 Women in the can.

  There is an anecdote, possibly apocryphal, about how Towers tried to persuade Herbert Lom, another of his favoured leading actors, to join the cast of a new Harry Palmer spy movie, Bullet to Beijing, starring Michael Caine.

  ‘It will be shot in Russia in an exciting location where few film crews have ever gone,’ said Harry, without naming the place.

  When Lom insisted on knowing where it was, Towers replied, after some hesitation, ‘Um … Chernobyl.’

  HAT had done a deal with Len Deighton to bring his famous spy creation back to the screens, although I believe he had to do a separate deal with Harry Saltzman, as in the first book the spy didn’t have a name – that was a creation of the film that Harry Saltzman had produced. So to use the name ‘Harry Palmer’ didn’t have a clear title of use in a new film and necessitated a bit of negotiation.

  HAT had found some money in the newly opened-up Russia, tied it up with a Canadian/UK co-production and secured Michael Caine for the lead. Filming in the former Soviet Union meant buying certain friendships and protection. Towers said, ‘Russia welcomed us with open palms.’

  On another occasion, cameraman Ronnie Maasz told me about joining one of HAT’s productions in Salzburg. Rather than pay to shoot in a studio, the prudent producer opted to adapt hotel bedrooms, houses, offices and any other setting he could acquire cheaply, with sets dressed as they went along. The actors were mainly German (as that’s where his finance came from) and Ronnie discovered they had actually started the film in Prague, but for ‘financial reasons’ everything was transported across the border overnight and re-set in Austria.

  The first shot was to be of an exotic white sports car, but a rusty old Czech Tatra turned up. HAT declared it only needed a quick re-spray – and he knew just where to get it done. An hour later, the car returned to the set sporting a new paint job that was a curiously flat shade of white. Soon after, it started to rain and the colour washed off the car – he’d had it painted on the cheap and the local painter had used emulsion! Not to be outdone, HAT approached a local shopper and asked if he could borrow his white sports car, to which, amazingly, the local agreed. Unfortunately, though, Harry failed to think ahead to the next day’s shooting requirements. So, on day two another white car was found – an entirely different model – and HAT ordered shooting to continue, reasoning, ‘No one will notice – they’ll be too caught up in the plot!’ Needless to say, everyone noticed!

  With Tony Curtis and Lord Lew Grade, a formidable producer and a great friend.

  One time, filming in Rome, I met for lunch with an old friend of mine. Vincenzo Labella was a lecturer in Vatican History and Art in Florence and Rome, and later became a very successful writer and producer, after starting out as a technical advisor on Francis of Assisi. Over lunch, Vincenzo told me his next project as a producer was going to be on the television series Jesus of Nazareth for Lew Grade. In fact, it transpired, he was going to the airport that very afternoon to pick Lew up, as they had some meetings to attend about the new series.

  It was an opportunity I couldn’t resist. I asked Vincenzo if I could act as their chauffeur. I said I would wear a jacket and cap … all I asked was that Vincenzo went along with anything I said.

  ‘OK,’ he said, eyeing me suspiciously.

  At the airport, Lew got into the back of the car, puffing on his trademark cigar, and, without looking around, in my best Italian I asked, ‘Dove vorresti che guidi?’

  ‘What? What did he say?’ barked Lew.

  ‘Oh,’ said Vincenzo, ‘he just asked where are we going.’

  ‘What sort of driver is he if he doesn’t know where we’re going?’ Lew snapped.

  ‘It’s OK, he’s merely confirming ...’ said Vincenzo.

  I started driving and waited for them to become engrossed in conversation before I interrupted them. ‘Mi scusi, signore, ma la prego di chiedere al signore si è alla guida con se posso avere uno dei suoi magnifici sigari?’

  ‘What? What did he say now?’ asked an irritated Lew.

  ‘He wants to know if he can have one of your fine cigars?’ said Vincenzo.

  ‘What the bloody hell is going on here?’ cried Lew.

  I turned around and smiled.

  ‘Stop the car!’ he shouted. He got out, went to the boot, pulled out a huge box of Monte Cristos and gave them to me, laughing his head off. Lew’s trademark was his wonderful, large Havana cigar. Comedian Dave Allen always said of him, ‘Never wear a brown suit when you’re around Lew as he’ll pick you up and try to light you.’

  Lew was a great friend to me, and although he was of Jewish-Russian extraction, I think he’d have converted to any religion if it meant getting a deal. Kathy, Lady Grade, is Catholic and when she was invited to an audience with the Pope in Rome in the 1970s, Lew naturally travelled with her.

  ‘Roger,’ he later told me, ‘Pope held Kathy’s hand and blessed her, blessed her family and blessed the work of her beloved husband. Then Pope called me over, and do you know what Pope said, Roger? He said “Mr Grade, I want to bless you for all of the great work you produce and in particular I want to thank you for making Jesus of Nazareth”.’

  ‘Oh really, Lew?’

  ‘Yes, and do you know what else, Roger? Well, the following Sunday when Pope came out on his balcony to bless the crowds in St Peter’s Square ...’

  ‘Yes, Lew?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, Roger. That Sunday he held up his hands to bless the crowds and said, “Bless you my children, and be sure you watch Jesus of Nazareth on TV tonight!”’

  Lew initially sold the series to NBC in America, and such was its popularity that NBC asked Lew to fly over to negotiate a deal for repeat screening rights. Just before he left he received a call from Proctor & Gamble Entertainment saying that they wanted to buy the show and all future rerun rights with it. It was hot property.

  On the plane going over to LA, Lew said he had a vision, ‘And that vision was of the number 25’. He knew it wasn’t $25 and it couldn’t be $25,000, so when he went in to his first meeting with the P&G executives he told them the price was $25 million.

  They told him he was crazy.

  He went to see NBC next, as planned, and they asked how much he wanted. ‘$25 million,’ he beamed.

  They only wanted five re-runs and after an hour of negotiating said their top price was $15.5 million –
Lew wasn’t interested.

  His next LA meeting was at CBS, where he was pitching a new mini-series with Sophia Loren and Omar Sharif, but he felt the executives just weren’t biting and couldn’t figure out why, so he asked them point blank if he’d done anything to upset them.

  ‘What about offering us repeats of Jesus of Nazareth?’ they asked.

  ‘NBC have first option to buy it and I want $25 million,’ said Lew.

  ‘OK, when do you want to know?’ they asked.

  ‘I’m leaving for the airport at 4 p.m.’

  ‘You’ll hear from us by then.’

  Lew, meanwhile, called back NBC and said they had twenty-eight minutes to reach a decision on buying the show, and the price was $25 million, take it or leave it. It was chutzpah on a grand scale. Ten minutes later, the chairman, Herbert Schlosser, called him. ‘Lew, we’ve been friends for fifteen years. How can you do this to me? I need time.’

  ‘You’ve got twenty minutes left,’ Lew said, ‘before I offer it to CBS.’

  Sure enough, NBC came up with the $25 million.

  When asked later how he arrived at the visionary figure, Lew shook his head and said, ‘I don’t know, but I couldn’t believe they paid it!’

  While Jesus of Nazareth was a production triumph for Lew’s company, ITC, the jewel in his weekly network television schedule was undoubtedly the variety show Sunday Night at the London Palladium, and one Sunday Lew made a star out of a puppet act called ‘Topo Gigio’. A few months later they were short of a ‘top of the bill’ act and on the Friday prior to the show word came back to Lew that he was not to worry as they’d secured Tito Gobbi (the famous Italian baritone).

  ‘Aww, no!’ cried Lew. ‘Not that bloody mouse act again.’

  Towards the end of his life, Lew was approached by the chiefs at Polygram Films, who hit the jackpot in 1994 with Four Weddings and a Funeral, and who had then recently acquired the ITC library of programmes and films that Lew had green-lit, financed and/or produced – including The Saint, The Persuaders!, Randall & Hopkirk Deceased, The Baron, The Champions, Raise the Titanic, Escape to Athena and so on. It was a vast library and had been wrestled from Lew in the 1980s after he lost control of his empire due to some unfortunate business dealings.