The Real Mrs. Brown: The Authorised Biography of Brendan O'Carroll

by Beacom, Brian

  ‘“I think I do.”

  ‘“You think you do, but you don’t.”

  ‘“Well, considering I wrote the book, I’ve a feckin’ fair idea what it’s all about.”

  ‘I was hearing this from a director who had won an Academy Award. I wasn’t talking to a nobody. But on the other hand I couldn’t understand what he was saying. It just left me thinking, “What the hell have I got myself into?”’

  Brendan came back to Ireland, to tour again with Gerry, leaving Jim Sheridan to sort out the problem with the script and Anjelica Huston’s vision of how it should read.

  But it didn’t look as though a happy solution could be found.

  ‘I came up with the idea that the only solution was for me to go back out to LA with the co-producer, Greg Smith.’

  And at the start of this trip a little magic moment occurred.

  ‘I was doing a guest spot on the National Song Contest, filming the show in Cork, then had to get to London for a connecting flight to LA. But when I got to London, eventually, because the flight was held up with really bad fog, I got to the Aer Lingus terminal and I was handed a note. It was from Greg Smith, who was also late, and it said since we’d missed the LA flight, he suggested we should take the Virgin flight instead.

  ‘So I waited in the American Airlines lounge, until three p.m. when the next flight was due to leave, and I happened to have a look at Greg’s note again. It had been written on a telex, and I turned it over, and on the other side there was another printed note. It read: Miss Jennifer Gibney is arriving in Heathrow, but has been fog delayed. She will be taking a taxi from Heathrow to Gatwick and will be flying on to LA. But she has forgotten her passport, which is being flown direct from Dublin to Gatwick. Please make sure she gets her passport on arrival.’

  What were the chances of Brendan being handed a note with details of Jenny’s holiday plans? And it being on the other side of his message from Greg Smith?

  ‘How weird is that?’

  Very weird. And it transpired that Brendan’s Virgin flight was the same plane Jenny was now travelling on.

  ‘But I was in first class, and she was in coach, so I didn’t go back,’ he says, laughing.

  ‘However, we spoke in the airport. And I rang her a couple of days later, at her sister’s, and we met for a drink.’

  The pair were growing closer. There was a real connection. But not an affair. However, it’s fair to say Doreen didn’t feature too often in this new world Brendan was creating for himself. And part of that creative process involved keeping Anjelica Huston happy.

  ‘I spoke to Anjelica on arrival and agreed with her comments about the film. Then she asked how we should go about getting the script right, and I offered this basic idea that we’d take the fifty best bits of the book and make them into a movie. She thought that made sense and we agreed the best bits. And we played out scenes, where she would be Agnes and I’d be Winnie, Agnes’s friend. And we’d swap around.

  ‘Every night I’d go back to the hotel and I’d work on the ideas we’d come up with that day. And the next day she’d be so impressed that I’d worked overnight. As a result of working with her every day, I was in heaven. It had to be one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. That entire week’s work was just breathtaking.

  ‘However, at the end of the first day, co-producer Greg Smith came to pick me up in a limo. And as we headed back to the hotel, he asked how it was all going. And I said, “Great, Greg. But I have to tell you. I’m not getting actors’ notes off Anjelica. I’m getting director’s notes.”

  ‘“What do you mean?”

  ‘“I don’t get the feeling she wants to play Agnes. I get the feeling she wants to direct.”

  ‘“No, no. She’s in every page of the script, Brendan. She can’t direct and act. And we’ve got Emma Thompson down to direct.”’

  As they worked together, Brendan could see Anjelica become more absorbed with the life of Agnes Browne. The book’s ending sees Agnes meet the man of her dreams, who happens to be Cliff Richard. And indeed the Peter Pan of Pop was written into the script to play a cameo. But Anjelica had a thought; she said that – rather than the original Bachelor as the dreamboat – surely Agnes Browne’s fantasy man would more likely be Tom Jones?

  ‘I said, “You know, you’re right. I wish I had thought of that at the time. Agnes wouldn’t be into a cuddly mummy’s boy. She’d be into a Tom Jones, a bit of a rascal.”

  ‘As it turns out, Disney had already asked Cliff if he would play the part, but Cliff wanted a guarantee that none of the kids would say “fuck” in the film, as they had done in the book. But Disney said, “Sorry. The dialogue stays as it is,” and Cliff turned it down. When Anjelica heard this she just picked up her phone straight off and called Tom Jones. “Tom, Hi. Want to do something with me? . . . A film . . . Great! Yeh. Maybe two weeks.” And she turned to me and said, “Tom’s in.”’

  Brendan’s excitement soared. He was working with a Hollywood star who’d just pulled a music icon into his movie. Maureen O’Carroll would have been delighted to know her youngest child was headed skywards.

  ‘I just felt this screenplay was going to be brilliant.’

  But was Anjelica committed to the project as an actor, a director – or both? Brendan had to find out. However, he couldn’t call her agent and ask; that would seem to be disloyal, so he had to subtly coax the truth out of her.

  ‘I said to her, as we were having coffee in this lovely restaurant on Malibu Beach, with Greg Smith, “Just a little thing, Anjelica. When you get to Dublin, would you prefer a house – or an apartment? It’s just that if you had people coming over you might prefer a house . . .” Now, if she’d replied, “Well, we’ll see closer to the time . . .” that would mean she wasn’t about to star in this movie. But she didn’t. She said, “Erm, we haven’t really discussed a director yet.”

  ‘Greg chipped in, “Well, Anjelica, as you know, we have Emma Thompson as director.”

  ‘“Oh, she’s completely wrong for this.”

  ‘“And I watched as Emma Thompson flew right out of the window.”

  Did this mean the film was doomed? Brendan looked at Greg Smith. There was a moment’s silence and then Greg said to Anjelica, ‘Would you consider directing it yourself?’

  ‘Yes,’ came the reply. ‘We’ll give you your movie. And we’ll cast Agnes as someone else. When I think about it, I’m too severe-looking to play Agnes.’

  In reality, this was the best possible news. Anjelica wasn’t right for the part and she knew it. But she was still part of the project, and her association would open cinema doors. Win-win!

  And to seal Brendan’s delight, Anjelica had someone in mind who was perfect to play Agnes.

  Rosie

  ROSIE O’Donnell, one of the biggest stars in America, not only had Irish heritage (and an authentic accent), she had that mix of cosy warmth, vulnerability, toughness and stoicism that Agnes had to have. It was a great casting suggestion which, aligned to Anjelica as director and Brendan’s script, made this a film that couldn’t possibly fail.

  Yet, would Rosie be interested in playing the part of Agnes? O’Donnell was an extremely busy woman, with a chat show on Fox Television and a new baby she had adopted with her female partner.

  O’Donnell made a hundred shows a year and it was claimed she’d turned down ‘trillions’ to make Flintstones 2. However, when she received the Agnes Browne script sent over by her pal Anjelica, she read it – and loved it. Rosie reckoned her own mother, even though she’d grown up in the Bronx, was Agnes.

  ‘She agreed to take our meeting,’ says Brendan. ‘And we knew that was tantamount to acceptance. Rosie clearly loved the Agnes role so much she’d change her life plans for the year. I thought, “We’re laughin’ here!”’

  The plan was that Brendan, Anjelica Huston and Jim Sheridan would fly to New York to meet up with the former Betty Rubble and club her over the head with charm and persistence.

  Bu
t the trip looked problematic before the trio even set off. Brendan and his fellow Dubliner weren’t hitting it off, despite the fact that Jim Sheridan’s production outfit were effectively rescuing the project.

  Brendan reckoned Jim was ‘too sure of himself’. Then again, Jim had every right to be. Sheridan was a major player in the film business. That first night in New York, for example, Jim invited Brendan out to dinner with ‘a couple of interesting people’. Brendan later regretted having turned down the invite. The ‘interesting people’ turned out to be Marlon Brando and Lauren Bacall.

  Meantime, back in New York, it was time for Brendan, Jim Sheridan, Anjelica Huston and some of the production team to travel up to Westchester to meet with Rosie O’Donnell.

  ‘She lived in a lovely big house in the country. And she was great. I really liked her right from the start, and when I looked at her I thought, “Now, this is Mrs Brown.” She’d read the book, which she loved, and I discovered she’d learned a bit about me, which was nice. She was delighted to hear that I was a stand-up comic; she’d started off in stand-up too. So we had that in common. And it all went so well. Rosie added she had some great ideas for the film. For example, she had this idea of an early scene where Agnes is in the bath with all of the babies. And it was great because it would have been so Agnes.

  ‘Then she said, “Let’s get down to business! Now, I can only do this film if my stuff can be shot in this fixed period of time. I understand how difficult this is. And I don’t want to create problems for anybody. But what I have arranged is that Fox will let me use their private jet, to fly me to wherever you want me, at no charge to the production company.”

  ‘Now, I’m thinking, “Thank the Lord! We are so home and dry here.”’

  Money wasn’t an issue either. The film company offered Rosie $1.2 million, a drop in the bucket for the actress, but it wasn’t about cash. She simply loved the Agnes Browne character.

  ‘Then we went on to add more ideas, when one of the production team threw her the possibility of Bette Midler playing Agnes’s best pal, Marion. And I got a real measure of Rosie’s belief in making the story as real as possible, because a little while later during a coffee break she said to me, “You cannot have that woman in this movie, Brendan! She just doesn’t fit!” So I said, “Relax. There have been no decisions made on that, Rosie. Let’s just get you in, and between us we’ll call the shots.” But she looked at me cold and said, “Brendan, don’t let them fuck this film up.”’ (Whoopi Goldberg also read the script, fell in love with it and wanted to play Marion. But the presence of a black female in 1960s Dublin would have been a little difficult to explain.)

  Back in Rosie’s living room, Brendan reckons Jim Sheridan rocked the boat by saying to Rosie, ‘I want you available whenever I want you.’

  ‘Now, I was completely panicking when he said this because you can’t lay down rules to a star like her, especially one who’s doing the film for relatively little money.

  ‘“Well, then,” says Rosie, “in that case I can’t do the movie.”

  ‘“You can’t just set out your own conditions.”

  ‘“I’m not setting out conditions, Jim. I’m just telling you when I’m available.”

  ‘And the meeting became very heated. So I cut in and said, “Look, let’s all take a breath of fresh air. Guys, I’ll make coffee.”

  ‘I was panicking at this point but tried to keep it all together. There was no way I was going to see Rosie O’Donnell walk away from this movie. So I said, “Rosie, calm down. It can be sorted. Trust me.” And I left her making the coffee while I went into the garden to talk to Jim.

  ‘I said, “Look Jim, we’re within a hair’s-breadth of tying this all up. Listen to what she’s saying. She’s not saying she doesn’t want to do it. She’s just saying when she’s available. And if she’s available for thirty days spread out over these weeks, we can schedule it. It can be done.”

  ‘“Okay, we’ll see what she says when we go back in.”’

  Brendan had saved the day. He’d calmed the star and the co-producer. He had his movie with the best possible lead.

  Or so he thought.

  ‘When we sat down, Jim turned to Rosie and said, “Okay. We’ll up your money.”

  ‘Rosie said, incredulously, “What?”

  ‘“Yes, I know what this is about. We’ll give you two million.”

  ‘At this point Rosie stood up and yelled, “You’ll up my money? You’ll up my money! Let me tell you something. I do a hundred shows a year for Fox, I’m paid extremely well for them, and I’m contracted for five years. You cannot UP my money.”

  ‘And at that she threw everyone out of the house.’

  Jim Sheridan’s rewind on that scene doesn’t play out the same way as Brendan’s. He maintains Rosie began walking backwards the moment Bette Midler was named. Regardless, the Rosie O’Donnell dream was over. Brendan’s heart sank. He knew how much he’d lost. But who would play Agnes now that Rosie had walked? Or was Agnes Browne being killed off before the script had even been completed?

  Could the Sparrow Fly?

  BRENDAN had never given up on the idea of turning Sparrow’s Trap into a movie. After RTÉ passed on the idea, he became even more determined.

  And now, with Agnes Browne in development, albeit without an Agnes, he was part of the film world. He had an understanding of the process. So why not use this understanding to make another movie? Wouldn’t it be fantastic to have two Brendan O’Carroll films coming out within months of each other?

  The other attraction in developing Sparrow’s Trap was that it represented a sharp contrast to the oestrogen-driven world of Agnes Browne. Agnes Browne’s story was grey at times, but never black, thanks to the raw humour. Sparrow’s Trap was different – a story about making the wrong decisions, about a boxer who throws a fight and ends up working for gangsters. It was a story about how life could change in a matter of seconds. Brendan knew of this dark, precarious Dublin existence. He had friends from Finglas who had taken the wrong path.

  ‘If I hadn’t become successful, I could have ended up a bank robber or a drug addict,’ he admits one night at his home in Dublin. ‘It could easily have happened.’

  Sparrow’s Trap was a good story that would make a good film. Brendan and Gerry reckoned they could make the film themselves, using some of the family and friends such as Jenny, Fiona, Danny and Eilish to help with production. They came up with the idea of making a guerrilla movie, a low-budget film in which a director shoots scenes quickly at real locations – streets, railway stations, shopping centres, parks; anywhere they can.

  The pair reckoned they could make the movie for around £150,000. But after a meeting with a producer from the Irish Film Board, they were persuaded that only a bigger-budget movie would do the story justice, and they should be thinking about something in the region of £2.2 million.

  As optimistic as ever, Brendan and Gerry weren’t daunted by that figure, especially after Agnes Browne’s original producer Greg Smith and film partner Morgan O’Sullivan had read the script and loved it – and announced they would consider becoming distributors for the movie, making sure it got a cinema release.

  And if that happened, it would be likely to recoup the £2 million-plus investment. But they laid down some conditions.

  ‘They wanted a name to play the lead role. They said they needed a star in the credits to make it easier to distribute.’

  Brendan, of course, would have been perfect for the role, had he not been aged 42, and with a public profile that didn’t go beyond the Eire borders.

  ‘What I wanted to do was ask for four million quid to produce this film, and make a few bob for myself.

  ‘When I talked to Greg and Morgan about finance I told them I’d approached Stephen Rea and Aidan Quinn and neither of them had said no. Greg said, “If you get either of those, we’ll give you the four million.”’

  Great. All Brendan had to do was sign Stephen Rea or Aidan Quinn on the line tha
t was dotted.

  ‘I met up with Stephen Rea, and found him to be a lovely guy. I hadn’t a lot to offer for the lead part – around fifty grand, which wasn’t a huge amount – but it would cover a few bets on a Saturday. Stephen was interested and I thought, “Great!” But then he called and told me he had just started on another film and he couldn’t do mine.’

  One down . . . but Aidan Quinn was still a real possibility.

  ‘I sent a copy of the script to Aidan Quinn via his management company, CAA, in Los Angeles.

  ‘Now, we were scheduled to begin shooting at the end of January 1998, so on New Year’s Eve I found myself on a plane to LA, trying to track down Aidan’s agent.

  ‘I finally got him on the phone and he agreed to meet me on 2 January. And I got to the agency – and it was closed.

  ‘So I thought, “Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow.” And I did. And I met the agent and he said Aidan loved the script, but that he was doing another Irish film and he didn’t want to compromise one against the other. But I wasn’t for giving up. I said, “Look, I appreciate you won’t make much money on this, the budget is too small, but I’m looking for your permission to talk to Aidan, that’s all.”

  ‘So he said, “Okay, sure.”’

  Doreen didn’t take off with her husband on the trips to Hollywood. Brendan reckoned his wife didn’t want to be a part of the politics of getting a movie made. And there’s little doubt the gulf between them was now becoming a gaping chasm. It seems they were staying together more for the children than their own relationship.

  Gerry Browne didn’t fly to Tinseltown either. Yet, Brendan, at the time, was saying his right-hand man was with him every step of the way in the project.

  ‘If I’d said to Gerry that I wanted to paint the moon green, he’d say, “Right, I’ll go out and price the paint.” That’s the kind of support I get from him. He’s an incredible friend.’