Nothing General About It

by Maurice Benard

  At home, my talkative daughter Cailey was four and her strong will and wicked intelligence (as well as sense of humor) had already infused our family dynamic. Like Paula, she was obsessed with animals, and loved the fun birthday parties Paula always put together, which usually featured a petting zoo.

  Cailey has also always been fascinated with snakes, just like me, and from the time she was little she wanted to hold any snake she saw . . . which is fine if they’re not poisonous. One afternoon I’ll never forget, Cailey and I were in the car and we were both in shock when we saw a five-and-a-half-foot rattlesnake slithering in the middle of the road. I got out to check it out, but I made Cailey stay in the car, although she really wanted to get out and see the snake up close.

  Once I was closer and realized it wasn’t a rattlesnake I didn’t let on, instead I put on quite a show for Cailey, wrestling with the snake and finally capturing it. Cailey’s eyes were as big as the moon, and I was the hero—until we called Paula and she informed Cailey I was teasing her, because of course it wasn’t a rattlesnake.

  In 1997, Brenda and Sonny were finally engaged and the fans were in a frenzy. It was also wonderful to be acknowledged again with another Emmy nomination; however, by this time I had developed a love/hate relationship with the soap and my character. It afforded me a great life and I could provide for my wife and baby girl, but I wanted to see what else was out there and, as I had done before with All My Children, I told the producers I wanted to leave when my contract expired in a year. The producers didn’t want to kill off the popular character, and they wrote Sonny out of the show by having him leave Brenda at the altar so Sonny could return at a later date if I ever wanted to come back to Port Charles.

  That goodbye episode was incredible, but the fans were devastated. I remember sitting in the limo for a nine-page scene with Steve Burton that we had rehearsed the hell out of before shooting—and that day did it in one take. He was brilliant and I was so proud of him and let him know that. The raw acting and emotion were amazing, and when he won an Emmy, I’ve never seen a better Emmy tape with better performance clips.

  After I finished my last day, Wendy and Shelley threw a nice going-away party for me with a big cake, and when I walked in I could hear a song playing. “Sunny, thank you for the sunshine bouquet, Sunny, thank you for the I love you brought my way. . . . Sunny, one so true, I love you.” People told stories and shook my hand and wished me well.

  When one of the makeup artists came up to me during the party I was surprised when we both almost started to cry. Donna Messina was the matriarch of General Hospital and had been there for years, but she wasn’t my makeup artist at that time and I didn’t know her well. She was notorious for not liking hugs and yet she hugged me and, standing there, in that short period of time at the party, we connected. It was the beginning of an amazing friendship.

  Before I ever considered returning to Port Charles, I had to see what other territories there were to conquer. Right after quitting, I hired a hot young manager who promised me the moon. I did some independent movies, including Operation Splitsville as Frank, and Restraining Order as Sicko, with Eric Roberts.

  Meanwhile, Paula had continued her quest to foster a better relationship with her mother. Now that they were speaking, Paula started trying to get Heather, now five, out of the same house her mother still lived in with Paula’s other siblings and all the drug addicts. Although her contact with her mother was still minimal, Paula started bringing Heather to stay with us during the summer and she was a lot of fun to have around. Heather was so adorable; she looked like a little Diana Ross, and I always loved to mess with her, claiming, “Your mama can’t cook!” and in this little high, defiant voice, she always replied, “She can, too, cook!” but I just kept repeating it and she kept on arguing with me. She and Cailey were less than two years apart and loved playing together and they became fast friends, growing very close.

  During my hiatus from the show, Sonny might not have been on TV but he was definitely not forgotten. One memorable day I got a call from Eddie DeBartolo, Jr.’s daughter, who was a huge fan of Sonny and all things Port Charles. She asked if I wanted to come to a game, which she could arrange because her father, Eddie, owned the 49ers. Who would say no to that?

  She took me into the owner’s box at Candlestick Park where Sean Penn, Jessica Lange, Jason Priestley, and a few others were already seated. Halftime, when we went out on the field to stand on the sidelines and watch, is most memorable for me. Cops had to escort us because the fans were so intense and I’ll never forget, as I walked onto the grass, that part of the stadium started chanting:

  “Sonny! Sonny!”

  Then it got slightly louder as other sections joined in.

  “Sonny! Sonny! Sonny!”

  Soon it was deafening. Jerry Rice, who had his helmet off on the sidelines, looked at me and winked. Later in the dressing room he told me he was nervous to meet me because he had watched me on All My Children. For me, someone who as a little kid had watched the games and idolized the players, that was just the best moment.

  While that evening and other projects made it an interesting interlude away from General Hospital, after a year I couldn’t justify ignoring the standing offer to return. Finances always came into play, and it was different now that I had a family depending on me; I felt that protective instinct every time I looked at Paula and Cailey. Paula was supportive of whatever I wanted to do but also was quietly nervous about me being freelance again.

  Around this time, Paula also decided she wanted to formally become my manager. I had always, of course, listened to her input on scripts, and she gave me advice on projects and my performance, but she wanted to take control where she thought agents hadn’t before. She had gotten the bug for managing early on, but it wasn’t until after Cailey was born that her confidence blossomed. So Paula formally took the reins as manager and has guided my career ever since.

  I think Steve Burton says it best: “Paula’s the wizard behind the curtain.”

  When Sonny and I both returned to Port Charles in 1999, his reappearance a little over a year after having been absent was orchestrated with quite a flair, revealing a depressed Sonny, who had been hiding out on his island away from everyone . . . until Jason figured it out, flew to get Sonny, and brought him home. And the fans went wild—their favorite mobster was back.

  This time around, Donna was my makeup artist. Donna was tough, straightforward, and would tell it like it was no matter who you were. She was the peacemaker and could always keep situations from escalating. Everyone respected her honesty and came to her for advice. She knew about my bipolar, but she also wouldn’t let me get away with any crap. If something bothered me and I was angry, Donna many times would help me see another side and I’d let it go. If I didn’t agree with Paula about something and wanted to argue my point, nine times out of ten Donna would listen and then echo exactly what Paula said. I often told Paula that Donna was my Paula at work.

  She also knew all the gossip and we talked every day about who was coming and going, the ratings, and life in general. We connected on so many levels, she was like a sister to me. I think Donna and I were real kindred spirits because we both had our guard up. I knew Donna hated hugs, and she knew I was just as uncomfortable being touchy-feely, so, like the little irritating brother, I hugged her all the time, just to bug her.

  I saw a part of myself in Donna, the part that held people at arm’s length, but one day when she revealed that her son, Nick, Jr., had struggled with anxiety over the years, I felt honored that she trusted me on that level. I tried to share some personal insight from my own struggles and we got closer. Although we mirrored each other to some degree, Donna knew how to communicate better than I did and she would push me to get better.

  Carol Scott, a producer in her fifties, was another shining light on the set and a good friend. One day she came to work and was smiling from ear to ear; she had found her soul mate late in life and fallen in love.

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nbsp; A year later, when they got married and she was intensely happy, I was, too.

  She was the person who I convinced to have Sonny show some vulnerability. One day I had a scene with Ron Hale that involved Mike and Sonny yelling and a lot of heightened emotion, which ended with Sonny near tears.

  But later, when I watched it on tape, the moment wasn’t there. They had cut away from me in that moment and I couldn’t believe it, so I called the producers and went berserk.

  “Who the hell cut it out?” I yelled.

  “It was Carol’s decision,” one of them told me.

  As always, Donna was there to give me some perspective, and I calmed down a little. Then I called Carol.

  “Honey, why did you cut out the tears, what happened?” I asked.

  “It would make Sonny look weak,” Carol explained.

  “No, it’s the opposite. In that little moment you see his vulnerability,” I told her.

  She listened awhile and finally apologized, and after that they let Sonny express more emotion. That made me happy; finally, viewers could see the varying shades of Sonny.

  One day I received a gift—one of those robots that lights up when you punch it. At the time, I hadn’t boxed since high school and I realized I missed it. It’s a gentleman’s sport, I heard someone say once, and I think that’s a good description. I decided to purchase a punching bag to work at home and get back into sparring and training at the gym.

  I started out at Benny the Jet’s gym and boxed there for years. Benny could still kick anybody’s ass. They always played my favorite soul music, like James Brown, for me, and my trainer, Jeff Mulvin, helped me work out a lot of my anger in the ring (even though it once led to me accidentally dislocating his jaw). I also sparred a lot with another young trainer there, Majid Raees, who became a friend. He was always very spiritual, and the thing about Majid is he always tells you to do something in boxing or in life that annoys you, but he’s always right. He would go on to become a sensei and train Kevin James and many other celebrities.

  Boxing to me was a lot like acting. In a scene I don’t want to know what’s coming, a jab or a hook, because it’s more interesting when things are unpredictable, saying lines faster or slower to switch it up. Same with boxing, where you have to react instinctively to whatever comes your way. My love of boxing eventually became part of Sonny’s world. If you look closely in Sonny’s house, you’ll see a boxing picture hanging in Sonny’s living room, commissioned by the show. Sonny also purchased a gym where he and everyone else in Port Charles worked out, a place named Voloninos, after our costume designer, Alice Volonino.

  Off-screen, my own family continued to grow. At thirty-six, I became a father again when Cassidy Rose Benard was born on April 18, 1999. Just like her big sister, Cassidy was also born on a Sunday, but this time we preplanned the birth long before the due date came, since we had experienced the scare the first time with Cailey’s Code Blue. I was not the only one in the room with Paula and Dr. Crane for the birth—Cailey, now almost five years old, and Heather, six, were also there. Thankfully this time there were no complications, and when Cassidy made her entrance into this world, again I cut the umbilical cord.

  From the start, Cassidy was a quiet and gentle soul with the face of an angel and a great sense of humor. She was also the true cat lover in our family, which is fitting, since she seemed to have nine lives, always getting into dangerous scrapes and somehow coming out unscathed. Another music lover, when she was little she constantly hopped around singing, in her own little world, paying no attention to anyone or anything around her. One day she was hopping through the house and singing like she always did when suddenly we heard her sweet song stop abruptly, followed by screaming and loud bumping. We ran to see her in a pile at the bottom of the stairs, blood streaming down her face. She had tried hopping down the stairs and missed a step, but her tumble could have been far worse than the stitch or two she received.

  Another time, workmen had the huge Sub-Zero refrigerator pulled away from the wall to open the plaster behind it in order to assess the damage caused by some pesky rats. At the end of the day, we told the girls not to touch the refrigerator, but after everyone was asleep little Cassidy came back downstairs and not only opened the fridge but climbed on a shelf to grab some food. As she did, the fridge started to tilt forward.

  I woke up with a start as we heard a loud crash downstairs, and Paula and I bolted to see what had happened. We saw Cailey on the way down but no sign of Cassidy in her room, and as I ran downstairs in a panic, I called out for her but got no response. All I saw at first when I rounded the corner was the upended refrigerator, and my stomach tightened; I could only imagine little Cassidy pinned beneath it. As I sped across the kitchen to reach the refrigerator, a flood of relief hit me when I saw that on the other side of the huge, open door little Cassidy was squatting, frozen in horror. The door had miraculously swung open enough so that when the refrigerator fell, it stopped inches from crushing her—or trapping her inside it.

  When she saw us, Cassidy jumped up, ran, and hid under the kitchen counter. She knew she had been told not to touch the refrigerator and thought she was in trouble, but when we saw what could have happened, all I wanted to do was grab my sweet girl and hang on to her for dear life, crying, grateful for the miracle.

  Even after the refrigerator incident, there was also the marble incident, which was absolutely terrifying. That day, I saw Cassidy put a marble in her mouth, and as I said, “No! Please give that to me!” she ran instead like it was a game. As I started toward her, I suddenly saw that she was choking on it and I got behind her, attempting to do the Heimlich maneuver as I simultaneously called 911. The emergency operator told me not to do the Heimlich, but it was too late, I had already started. Now I was in a panic because I thought I had done more damage to my little girl, so I said a prayer, and as I did, the marble flew out of her mouth and she started to cry. So did I. Thank God, saved again, but Cassidy continued to have near-misses. I always say how grateful I am that her guardian angel was always working overtime.

  My on-screen family also grew again, but it took a while.

  During that time at work, the producers started putting Sonny with different girls, since Vanessa had left the show. Nothing was as special to the fans as the Brenda relationship—until lightning struck twice when they matched Sonny with Carly in a fiery one-night stand in 1999. Sarah Brown originated the character and was a phenomenon. Fans are super-protective; they act like they’re my mother—they don’t feel like anyone is good enough for Sonny except Brenda on the one hand and Carly on the other. Just as they couldn’t get enough of Brenda and Sonny, now fans couldn’t get enough of Carly and Sonny.

  When the two moved in together, Sonny soon became a father figure to—and bonded with—her son, Michael. Although he wasn’t the biological father, Sonny adopted Michael and raised him as his own, even though his and Carly’s tempestuous relationship would result in on-again, off-again marriages to each other over the next decade.

  When Sarah chose to leave the show several years later, Tamara Braun stepped into the role of Carly. The fans were so hooked on Sarah it seemed like an impossible task to win them over, but Tamara and I worked hard and I truly think the vulnerability she brought to Carly turned it around.

  Admittedly, there was a rough period during which I was difficult, because I absolutely hated the story line. Sonny shot Carly in the head by accident and she went into a coma. If that wasn’t bad enough, while she was in the coma, she was in love with someone else, which meant that when she woke up, she didn’t know Sonny. Not only did I hate the story line, but I made fun of it endlessly, to the point where Steve and I actually made Tamara cry. I’m ashamed that I was behaving no better than the bullies I had beaten up in school, but I didn’t let up and complained to the producer, the writers, whoever was listening, including Donna, who also hated the story line.

  “You’re cutting Sonny’s balls off!” I kept arguing.

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sp; They finally ended the story line, and I’m not sure if it’s because it didn’t work or that I was being such a pain in the ass. Even though she didn’t like the dream story, Donna helped me see that I was being unfair to Tamara. I took full responsibility for my behavior and I apologized to Tamara and we resolved that bump in the road.

  When Tamara later decided to leave the show, Jennifer Bransford came in, and I loved not knowing from one second to the next what she was going to do in a scene. But for whatever reason, the network decided to make a change. I fought for her and I even showed the president of the network a tape, but the network didn’t support me on that, so Jennifer went on to better things.

  And then Laura Wright came into Sonny’s world. She was already popular on another soap when the producers decided to lure her to Port Charles, and since everyone knew I had fought for Jennifer, Laura probably felt like she was walking into an odd situation. She always tells me she tried to shake my hand and I wouldn’t shake it, but the reason is that I had a cold. To this day, I’m not sure she believes me.

  Laura knew how to steamroll it and she came in with two guns blazing, completely making Carly her own. Not only did her version become wildly popular at the beginning, but it has been incredibly successful for fifteen years now.

  Doing scenes with Laura is like working with a force of nature, because she really fights for Carly, and I respect that. We’ve never gotten in a big argument, although I’m sure there are times when she wants to kill me. I also appreciate what a great scene partner she is when I’m having a dark period in my bipolar struggle. I always let her know if I’m going through something so she will be aware. She’s such an incredible pro, she always knows how to handle it.

  As the millennium approached, I continued to do films outside of General Hospital, including Crystal Clear as Steven, and then there was a changing of the guards at work. In 2000, Wendy and Shelley left the show and Jill Farren Phelps became the executive producer but Bob Guza was still head writer. He was brilliant at storytelling but they still always wrote Sonny as the bad guy and I used to argue all the time with Jill about that.