by Shane Briant
and South.'
With the utterly captivating Leslie Ann Down in 'The Sweeney.'
Also guesting was my old friend Paul Jones – it was great to hook up with him again. He and I were fellow 'crims' – he was the working class lad, and I was the 'toff'. It was a great story and fun to shoot. I had just one short scene with Thaw and Waterman (when they 'nick' me at the end) so I never got to know either of them. The bulk of what I did was with Paul and Lesley-Anne.
One incident stands out in my memory and makes me laugh to this day. First of all you have to remember that Lesley was exquisitely beautiful and in her early twenties, slim perfect figure, lovely flawless skin, fabulous eyes. She had been voted 'Most Beautiful Teenager' at the age of fifteen, and was even lovelier aged twenty-two. She had everything. Yet my character, Giles Nunn, treated her in a very offhanded fashion. He was a very arrogant bastard – I seem to have been singled out for these roles at the time!
Every man on the set thought she was the most beautiful girl they had clapped eyes on in years, so when in one scene her character tried to impress him by opening her fur coat to reveal she was topless, the whole crew moved forward to watch – everyone
moment. Even the runners and the art department!
They were all outsmarted. The director, Ian Kennedy-Martin organized matters so that I was sitting on a sofa with my back against the wall, and when Lesley-Anne came in, she stood in front of me, and then took off her top. All you could see from behind were her shoulders and the obvious lack of bra straps. Some days an actor's life can be hard work. This was not one of them. But there was a catch. In the script it is very clear that the super-arrogant Giles Nunn pays scant attention to this striptease – He doesn't look,' the script says so, despite my bad intentions, I only caught a blur of milky soft loveliness in my peripheral vision.
One of the perks of being an actor. Leslie Ann undresses.
Later than day, I suppose about a dozen members of the crew asked me the obvious questions. "Hey, nice, huh?" Every time I was asked I'd put myself in Giles Nunn's character, look bored and say, "Come on, seen one, seen them all." They found this extremely annoying, so it was great fun.
With Paul 'Manfred Mann' Jones in 'The Sweeney.'
'SHADES OF GREENE.'
In the autumn of 1975 I appeared in another play directed by one of my favourite directors, Peter Hammond. 'A Chance for Mr. Lever.'
It was one of a series of plays written by Clive Exton, based on Graham Greene's short stories. I was especially happy to be in this series as I had once met the man himself at Quendon Hall in Essex, the home of my fairy godmother Kit Adeane.
I was thirteen, so I didn't engage in any erudite conversation with him, but I did study him closely all evening because he was who he was. I'd just read his novel 'Brighton Rock' and thought it outstanding. My impression, just from that evening – and this was almost a boy's impression – was that he was a very sad and withdrawn man. I believe it comes across in his work – a certain sadness and Catholic guilt.
Freddie Jones played Mr. Lever. He was also a client of Adza. A fine actor who was five times nominated for BAFTA awards. I found him absolutely charming, eccentric to the point where eccentric borders on bonkers, but a wonderfully gifted actor.
This short play was one of his tour de forces. If you get a chance to see it, do. Freddie's character, Mr. Lever, is a machinery sales representative down on his luck, who is offered a chance to improve his situation by making his way through the Liberian jungle to find a buyer.
Of course he gets malaria and dies. Freddie's performance was heart-wrenching – Lever does it all for his wife at home and has such courage. I played a kind of 'Gordon Gekko' type – young and ruthless.
BETWEEN THE SHEETS. MARIA MARTIN.
I didn't know it at the time, but 'Maria Martin or Murder in the Red Barn' was to be my last production for the BBC. I'd go back tomorrow if asked, it goes without saying!
It was a fun show – I'd been in a production of the same play at University. It's been done to death yet people look forward to yet another version.
I have absolutely no recollection of any event other than lying in bed next to Pippa Guard waiting for the sparks to light our love scene. It's always a bit confronting when the assistant director says, "Okay, why not take your robes off and hop into bed." Nearly always, the actors keep their pants on, so for males it's a piece of cake, but the poor girls are often embarrassed at going topless. Pippa and I didn't know each other very well, and it seemed like an inordinate time we had to lie in bed with a sheet over us while they lit us.
I find bed scenes rather enjoyable. I think of them as 'sleepovers' rather than a time to get hot under the collar and choke back a 'stiffy.' So, on this occasion the conversation soon became somewhat stilted. Eventually I thought I'd lighten the atmosphere with a joke.
"Is this your first bedroom scene," I asked Pippa.
"No," she replied, "I had one with Peter Firth."
I smiled "Tho, I'm the thecond?" I said, with a strong lisp.
She laughed, thank heaven's. It wasn't much of a gag. But it did lighten things up. Pippa was a real sweetheart.
Hollywood!
CULVER CITY STUDIOS AND DORIAN GRAY!
One of the most fabulous things that happened to me was to be cast as the name role in 'The Picture of Dorian Gray.' As ever, it was the wonderful Maude Spector who called Adza to summon me to her offices in Mayfair. American producer Dan Curtis was looking for a Dorian Gray for his Movie of the Week for the American Broadcasting Company. It was to be a two-part three-hour production. Very prestigious. I was thrilled.
Maude and I shared a glass of bubbly before I went in to meet Dan. The many times Emmy-Award-winning director Glenn Jordan had left the casting to Dan. When I say 'left' the casting, this was more probably a question of Dan saying, "I'll cast him. You direct the sonofabitch."
Dan knew what he wanted and he always got it. Scared the hell out of me on more than one occasion. You didn't mess with Dan, or answer back.
Later in 1983 he would direct the award winning series "The Winds of War" with Robert Mitchum, Ali McGraw, and a heap of other heavyweights. It would win him an Emmy, and a PGA Award as producer that year. The series was also nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Mini Series or Motion picture made for TV.
I met with Dan on a Wednesday in London, heard from Adza that I'd landed the role on Thursday, boarded a British Airways flight – first class no less (those were the days) – on Friday, with the peerless Nigel Davenport who was to play Lord Harry Wooton, and met up with Glenn at a read through at the famous Culver City Studios on Saturday morning.
It's a series of events that young actors dream of – and I am here to tell all you struggling actors that it CAN happen. Just when you least expect it.
Nigel and I had a great flight over, one I'll never forget. I can remember the seats in which we lounged as if it was last week.
In the seventies there were no beds of course, but the food was even more spectacular than it is today (my opinion only).
The first thing I was told when the plane took off was that I could ask for anything my heart desired and they'd probably have it ready in a matter of minutes.
Nigel started off with several orders of Beluga caviar while I had some lobster. As the champagne – Bollinger of course – flowed, I voiced the opinion that possibly I shouldn't arrive in Los Angeles with a hangover.
"Nonsense," Nigel barked with a grin, "It's the only way to arrive!"
Lord Harry Wooton to a T!
The wonderful Nigel Davenport as Lord Henry Wotton in 'Dorian Gray.'
As luck would have it, I was the victim of an isolated skin problem the night before I flew, and by the time I checked into the gloriously old fashioned Montecito Hotel in North Hollywood, I had a nasty red boil on my nose.
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering what on earth I could do – the livid red pustule was growing by the second. I knew I 'd
be in trouble when I walked into the studios to meet Glenn the following morning, looking like Pinocchio in a clown's costume.
A car came to collect me at the Montecito at ten-thirty next day. I'd just returned from the breakfast joint I'd found close by called 'The Golden Cup.' Everyone there was extremely friendly as I sat up at the bar and ate a full breakfast. One young man even suggested we should meet up later in the day for a few drinks. I was so impressed by the friendliness of these Californians that I mentioned the experience to my driver. He smiled wryly.
"The Golden Cup on Highland?" he asked.
"Sure," I replied.
"It's a twenty-four hour gay pick up joint, Shane," he told me. I cast my mind back – that's why there were no girls in the short order bar.
Half an hour later we arrived at the Culver City studios and I entered the vast rehearsal room. Glenn walked over from the 'coffee and sugared donut' table. He shook my hand warmly, and then stared at the fiery pustule on my nose. No smiles. Just concern.
"Oh my God…" he said in an undertone, "I was hoping to meet the most beautiful man in the world – Dorian Gray. Yet here's a young man with the biggest pimple known to man on his nose."
He then called out to someone behind him, a man helping himself to an iced donut.
"Sam, come over here and look at this."
Sam, head of make-up, came over.
"What do you reckon, Sam – we lance it now?"
Sam suggested leaving it for a day or two. It was only then that Glenn smiled, looked me in the eye rather than the nose, and welcomed me to the reading.
"Had to get that sorted out first, Shane. I'm sure you understand. Now come and meet the cast."
met on that day become rich and famous. Fionnula Flanagan went on to win Emmys for 'Rich Man, Poor Man,' and be nominated for 'How the West Was Won.' She's starred in just about every television series that has been made since 1970.
Dorian Gray. Culver City Studios.
Linda Kelsey, who played Dorian's wife (an addition to Wilde's story) was nominated for five Emmys and three Golden Globe Awards for the series "Lou Grant."
John Karlin snagged the role of Detective Cagney's husband in the hit series 'Cagney and Lacey' and surely could have retired many times since then.
The beautiful Vanessa Howard, who played Sybil Vane, married celebrated producer Robert Chartoff (they had the most gorgeous house in Malibu with the bedroom literally hanging over the high tide mark – what romance!) the late Charles Aidman was Basil Hallward, and we all know that Nigel Davenport is one of the best actors England has ever produced ('A Man for all Seasons,' 'Chariots of Fire.' and 'Mary Queen of Scots' are just three of his fortyeight films)
Dan put us all on a very tight schedule. We had twelve rehearsal days, then had to shoot the entire one hundred and eleven minute mini series in four days on a beautifully crafted set constructed in two vast studios in Culver City. This translated into two one-anda-half-hour episodes of prime time 'Movie of the Week.'
It was hard, grueling work, but I feasted on collaborating with Glenn. He was a master, I could see that almost immediately. He's won four Emmys and has been nominated for ten more. My favourite Jordan productions are 'Barbarian at the Gate,' 'The Long Way Home' with Jack Lemmon, and 'Les Miserables.' And on the subject of 'Les Miserables,' Glenn told me a great story.
He was originally approached to direct the piece, but the script he was given was about five inches thick and weighed more than a fat cat.
"Can you give me… say a hundred and twenty pages on Monday, Glenn?" the producer asked. Surprised, Glenn enquired how he could possibly shave three hundred pages over the weekend. In true Hollywood fashion, the producer replied, "Tear pages." I have to add that it is possible Glenn was exaggerating. If so, I apologize to the producer in question. Incidentally, I heard from another source that some studio people were concerned that the American television viewer would be unfamiliar with Victor Hugo's masterwork. Not only the story, but also the title.
"People are going to think this is a darned depressing movie. The miserable people? What do you think?" someone was said to have muttered in the ITC offices.
"Why don't we give it a title our audience can identify with," someone else suggested.
"Such as?" yet another exec asked.
After a pause, someone offered. "'Tough shit'?"
Everyone laughed loudly.
Maybe this story is apocryphal.
After twelve days of rehearsing, several massive trucks arrived at the studio lot where the sets had been built, and four 1970's television-style video cameras were brought inside.
The idea was to film the show in a film studio, with film lighting and film sets. Everything was to be exactly like a movie set except for the cameras, which were to be video.
I think the idea worked well. Of course anyone who is familiar with movie-making can immediately see that it was not shot on 35millimeter film. In view of the fact it was made for television, why not use video? I think it had a really good 'look' because Robert Cobert photographed it in such a wonderful way.
First shoot day in Culver City.
Those intense four days flew by. One evening I hosted a drinks party at the Montecito. All my new Los Angeles friends came. I ordered in catered nibbles and canapés and a great deal of wine, beer and spirits. Nearly all the booze was gone within an hour or so,
and my new friend, screenwriter Jeffrey Bloom, was kind enough to telephone Turners on Sunset for more booze. Every hour until 2 a.m.
As the hours passed he kept on phoning for more and the same young Mexican would arrive with more supplies. Each time Jeffrey would give him a huge tip – Jeffrey's always been the über-tipper, and I sometimes think his tip amounts to more than the cost of the meal.
Jeffrey had written the great 'caper' movie, 'Snowjob,' starring Jean-Claude Killy (another of my heroes – I love skiing) the year before, as well as the cult hit, 'Blood Beach,' and was in the process of working on a movie script '11 Harrowhouse,' that was to have a stellar cast—Candice Bergen, Charles Grodin, Trevor Howard, James Mason and John Gielgud.
In those days Jeffrey had long dark hair, great taste in clothes, and a very dry sense of humour. As I write I can tell you he still has the same sense of style, and a great sense of humour. He's remained one of my best friends now for thirty-seven years. He's a big talent and has written, directed and produced some wonderful films.
This always makes me laugh! T.V Guide in L.A.
I am reasonably fearless when it comes to hard work and memorising dialogue. We started filming 'Dorian' each of those four days at 8 a.m., had one hour for lunch, and wrapped at 6 p.m.
I was in practically every scene enjoying the bulk of the dialogue, but this didn't bother me at all. I was a very hungry actor. Each day I came on set completely prepared, and I made very few gaffs. It was exhilarating.
Two weeks before, I had been at home wondering what Adza had in mind for me, and here I was now playing one of the best roles a young man can ask for in one of the oldest and most famous Hollywood film studios, working with dedicated and talented people.
Each evening I'd be driven back to my hotel and order up some fabulous food – I never went out on the town because I wanted to be sure I didn't get pissed or have any late nights. It was always home to the Montecito, ordering in food and studying the script. Nigel thought I wasn't having nearly enough fun, and was forever suggesting we hit the clubs. He must have thought me very dull – either that or very dedicated and green.
On one occasion the press lady arranged for the late Hurd Hatfield to come on set, so that the first screen Dorian – he played Dorian aged 28 – could be photographed with the latest.