I talked to Candice Bergen, whom I hadn’t seen since we were on the set of The Sand Pebbles. I saw my buddy Tom Skerritt for the first time in ages, and we laughed about the way my kids would react when he used to call the house. I looked back at one point and waved at Angela Lansbury. (I did a guest role in Murder, She Wrote back in 1990.) And Patricia Heaton, who was a huge star at that moment on one of TV’s biggest shows, Everybody Loves Raymond, came over to our table and said, “So! This is the ‘A’ table!”
That made us smile. Of course, our whole gang from The Mary Tyler Moore Show was there. Everyone except for Ted. Boy, did we miss him.
What a treat to be invited to gather with all of those fabulous people in the same room and to pose for a photo that encompassed seventy-five years of entertainment. That picture of all of us, dozens of stars from all those different eras all gathered on one stage, will be admired for decades to come.
In many ways, that night was like revisiting my whole career. It got me thinking about a lot of things—like about what I wanted to do with my future. (Yes, there is always a future to think about, no matter how old you get.)
While I dedicated most of my time to live theater, I made a bunch of guest appearances and performed a few one-off television roles through the 1990s and 2000s. David Letterman had me pop onto his Late Show numerous times while I lived on Cape Cod. I did some funny stuff. I flew in over the audience dressed in full captain gear. I danced with a chicken. He and I played as if we were college roommates in one sketch. I even married a couple on Valentine’s Day. My kids thought I was crazy to do it, as if somehow making those appearances amounted to Letterman making fun of me. I didn’t see it that way at all. What good is anything if you can’t laugh at yourself? I was honored to do his show, and it was easy for me. He’d call me up, I’d pop into the city, I’d do the show; then I’d stay at our apartment on Fifth Avenue and head back to the Cape the next day. (Funny story: Patti and I sold that apartment at one point, and then later decided we’d like to have a place in Manhattan once again. We looked all over and couldn’t find anything we liked. Then one day, a real-estate agent, completely by coincidence, took us to see a place in very same building we had lived in before. We wound up buying another apartment in that same building! It was great. It was right across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and when the windows were open, you could hear schoolchildren in the playground nearby. Boy oh boy, did I love that sound.)
I played a role on a show called Burke’s Law, a revival of the 1960s cop thriller, with Milton Berle near the very end of his life. Ed McMahon and Rue McClanahan were on that show too. I played a Catholic cardinal on an episode of HBO’s gritty prison drama, Oz. I showed up as “Uncle Stu” on The King of Queens a couple of times. I did Jag, and Touched by an Angel, and as previously mentioned, I visited my old dressing room on the CBS Radford lot when I did a couple episodes of That ’70s Show.
Yet of all the roles I did, only one stood out to me from that whole decade and a half: a role I played in a Christian film called Time Changer.
I worked with a director named Rich Christiano, whom I have come to love as a son. He believed he could tap into the nation’s church-going public to find an audience for this independent film far from the usual Hollywood channels. The idea was intriguing. The film was good, and it found a footing. After a limited release, Rich marketed the film directly to viewers on VHS, DVD, and video-on-demand services. He had big ideas. He had big dreams. He really thought that marketing a film directly to a Christian audience could be powerful. He believed in the power of film to deliver the message of Christ. Potentially even to bring people to the Lord.
I wasn’t sure where it all would lead, but I hoped he was right. And I hoped to find that sort of work again.
The thing is, I felt a longing inside. Not the longing I felt before. Not the emptiness. Not at all. I hadn’t felt empty from the moment I gave my life to Jesus.
I guess it was more of a calling, really: I was beginning to long to do something with my work that would be far more fulfilling than any role on a commercial film or television show could offer.
26
ENJOYING THE BLESSINGS
IN 2008, RICH CHRISTIANO CAST ME IN A FILM CALLED The Secrets of Jonathan Sperry.
At first I was a little put off by the fact that he wanted me to play the part of an “old man.” I still think of myself as young!
But then I read it. The script was beautiful. The story was beautiful. The movie had a message—a biblical message—that was told with innocence, simplicity, and beauty. It was a period piece, set in 1970, about three young boys who discover strength through the Bible, thanks to a man named Jonathan Sperry.
The role of Jonathan Sperry was delicious to play as an actor. He had depth. He had layers. He went through a range of emotion. I also had to grow a moustache for the role. In all my years in the business, even with all the stuff I did playing characters with and without hair, growing a moustache was something I had never done before!
But Sperry was also great to play as a human being and a servant of the Lord. He was a kind old man who not only led a Bible study for these neighborhood kids, but he taught them—and a whole town—the greatest of Christian lessons through his actions. Not just words, but actions—in his life, and ultimately, his death.
The movie didn’t follow the typical release schedule of a Hollywood film. Instead, Rich followed through on his vision to market the film directly to churches and churchgoers. Churches sponsored the film in hundreds of movie theaters all across the country upon its release in the fall of 2009. The following year, the film was released on DVD—and churches continued the practice of showing the film to large audiences, even as the film was being sold to thousands of individuals who would watch at home on TV.
I started going to some of these screenings, and I can hardly even describe the emotional impact this film was having. In some cases, for certain people, this film was as powerful as that moment when Patti led me into our old apartment and handed me a Bible with my name on it. This film, through its simple message, was almost like reading the Bible to people who were primed and ready to receive God’s message—even if they had no idea they were ready to receive that message when they sat down in the theater! I saw lives change right in front of my eyes.
At some of the screenings, they held altar calls at the end of the film. I watched a ninety-year-old lady in one audience come all the way down from the balcony, ready to accept Christ in her life right then and there—because of that movie! I had a little boy come up to me after a different screening, and he recognized me and tugged on my shirt: “Mr. Sperry, Mr. Sperry! Can I tell you something? You have just changed my life.”
It’s hard to believe a movie can have this effect, but it can. I said to that little boy, “Do you mean that you want to do something for Jesus?” And he said, “That’s what I mean!”
You can do a lot of Love Boats, you can make all the money in the world—but that? That never happens. Or I should say: that never happened. Now it does, because this is what my life has become: a life spent delivering God’s message through my work and sharing God’s message through my day-to-day existence.
After seeing people brought to the Lord because of a role I played, I started to realize that nothing else mattered. I started to realize that this is what my life had been leading to. All of the ups and downs in my career, the twists and turns, the roles I’d played, the parts I missed, and the parts I’d been given—all of them were leading me right here. And now I don’t want to do anything less.
Sometimes focusing on the work you want to do means saying good-bye to the work that came before it. That’s not easy. But when it is time, it’s time.
The time for me came in 2010.
I got a call to do a guest-starring role on the CBS drama Cold Case. I love that show. It’s a great show. But they wanted me to play the captain of a ship.
The only other television work I had done after filmin
g The Secrets of Jonathan Sperry was to make a guest appearance on the Disney show The Suite Life on Deck. It was a wonderful experience on a wholesome, great program—and those kids who starred in it, Dylan and Cole Sprouse, are two wonderful boys. But get this: the show was set on a cruise ship!
“Don’t they have any imagination?” I said to Patti. “Who are these casting people? They see a ‘captain’ part and they always think of me?”
I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I’m as grateful as can be! But as an actor, the reason I enjoyed doing guest parts on television shows was because they gave me a chance to stretch. I’d think back to those juicy parts I got to play in the 1960s, and all the TV roles I was doing now just started to feel boring. It seemed like so many of the roles I had been offered in recent years weren’t allowing me to stretch at all. I felt as though I was being typecast.
But what really bothered me was I had been spoiled. I had seen what movies like The Secrets of Jonathan Sperry could do. Having roles with real purpose? That’s all that mattered to me now.
I wondered if getting called in for that Cold Case audition was a sign—if perhaps God was telling me it was time to move on and focus on other things in my life.
The fact is, after many decades in the business, I was tired of having to go to auditions and read for people who were younger than my kids. Not that I thought I was above it; I just got tired of it. I was turning down a lot of roles, and it wasn’t fair for my agents. They were working hard to get me work and I kept saying, “I don’t want it. I don’t want it.”
So I decided this was it. I wasn’t going to do it anymore.
I drove all the way in to the Cold Case offices in Burbank, from Pacific Palisades. I had a plan in mind. It was a great moment for me. I got to the studio and watched as the young actors came in and were picking up scripts and looking at lines, going back and forth. I said to myself, I’m glad I don’t have to do that.
They called me in, and they were excited to see me. “Oh, I’m so glad you could make it, Gavin! You have a blue screen in back of you, now here’s the camera, this is so-and-so the director . . .”
I said, “How are you? Nice to meet you.”
“Okay, we’re going to do this scene on page seven—”
That’s when I interrupted. “I have to tell you something before we start,” I said. “We’re not gonna start. I just want to tell you I love this show, and I love the casting on this show, and I want to applaud all of you who are involved in it. I like you so much that I came all the way over here to tell you that I am not doing this anymore. I’m not going on interviews anymore. I’m not doing television anymore. I had a good run, I’m very grateful, so . . . adios.”
They were stunned. They said, “Nobody’s ever done this before!” I’m sure they went back and told their families that night: You’ll never believe what happened today! Gavin MacLeod quit the business, right in front of us!
All I could think was, Wow, did that feel great! It was time. I knew it, and I followed through.
I drove over to see my agent. He said, “Well, how did it go?”
“It was great!” I said.
“No kidding?”
I said, “Yeah. I told ’em I’m not gonna do it.”
He said, “What?”
I said, “I can’t do this anymore. I’m eighty years old! I’m not gonna go out and read for parts.”
I felt really good about my decision. I said, “You don’t need to get me parts anymore, because I don’t want to play them.”
When I first came to California in 1957, all I wanted to do was to get an agent who would get me parts. Any parts. But the thing is, I did it. I’ve done all that kind of stuff. I’m older now, and there aren’t that many parts for older people anyway. So I made a nice exit from showbiz. A dignified exit. I did it my way, and that felt good.
As I left my agent’s office, I felt as though a big weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was free to fly again.
Like I said, now that I’d seen what The Secrets of Jonathan Sperry could do, I’d been spoiled. Jonathan Sperry has brought so many people to the Lord. There’s a man up in Canada who was so moved by it, he bought tens of thousands of copies to distribute to everyone in his community. Everywhere I go, in stores, or even my local post office, people talk to me about it. It’s five years later now, and that film just keeps growing by word of mouth!
I’m doing God’s work, as his ambassador. And it just doesn’t stop. It continues wherever I go. That role of ambassador is what I wear, all the time. People stop me on the street to talk about Jonathan Sperry. One guy told me he gathered his whole family around the TV to see it. Another guy came up to me and said, “Where did this movie come from?” He was so moved by it that he got busy telling everyone he knew about it. He thanked me for making it.
Even people who haven’t seen it are moved when I tell them about it. I tell you, the wonders of this film don’t end! I was getting my kidneys examined one time and when I was lying on the table the technician asked me what I was up to these days, and I told him, “I made a Christian movie called The Secrets of Jonathan Sperry. I’m a born-again Christian. I gave my life to Christ.”
“So have I!” he said. He started telling me how his whole family had become believers. I tell you, once you start down this road it seems everywhere you go you hear stories of how people’s lives have changed through Jesus. What a joyful way to go spend your days—interacting with people and sharing the joy!
Becoming an ambassador for Christ is the greatest role I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been an ambassador for Princess Cruises for twenty-seven years, and I cherish that work. But being an ambassador for Christ is the ultimate. It’s better than getting any Oscar, any Emmy, any kind of award there is.
I walk around in a state of perpetual gratefulness now. The people I’ve seen who are living good lives today, who are happy and fulfilled, are not the same people they were before they came to Christ. He’s a wonder-working guy who can change you, and change you, and change you.
And this joy I’m expressing? It’s out there for anybody who wants it.
I feel more fulfilled now than at any time in my life. Acting and entertaining was my purpose in the past. Now my purpose is to serve God. In fact, I googled my name recently (how’s that for keeping up with the times?) and I saw myself described as “Gavin MacLeod: Actor and Christian Activist.” I thought, Wow! I’ve really made it!
It’s funny how if you’re open, God can—and will—use you. He’s given me a long life, and I want to use my life for him. I could have died from my heart attack or bypass surgery. I could have died from my back infection. It’s a miracle that I survived and that I’m not on a walker. I’m grateful for all that. But getting to play the role of Jonathan Sperry, and seeing the result of that film, is the ultimate fulfillment and promise of everything else that preceded it.
It’s startling when I stop and think about it: God led me through every twist and turn in my life to play the role of the Captain. A captain is a role of authority, a role that’s looked up to. It’s a fatherly figure, and that in and of itself is different than playing almost any other type of role on TV. It brings with it a certain level of respect, love, and responsibility. And no matter what other roles I’ve played in my life, I will always be viewed as the Captain.
You know what I think? I think God gave me that role. I think God was pushing me toward that role my entire life. I played the captain of the Pinafore in a Gilbert and Sullivan production in high school. I played a different sort of captain in Androcles and the Lion when I first went on the road out of New York City. I had millions of people watching me in ninety countries around the world as the Captain of The Love Boat. And then God allowed me to continue acting in the spirit of the Captain in all of my work for Princess Cruises, for all these years since the show went off the air.
Only after I had gained that notoriety, only after I had gained a certain amount of respect, only after I had tra
veled the world and met people of all stripes, from all walks of life, only after I had taken this long, fantastic voyage of a life did God put me in the role of Jonathan Sperry—because he knew that now, after all of that, people would listen to what the Captain had to say.
Isn’t it interesting how God can use us? Looking back today, I can see the path he laid out for me, clear as day. God was speaking to me all along—even when I wasn’t listening. God was guiding me—even when I wasn’t watching where I was going. Sort of like the Captain of a ship.
I can’t help but smile now and embrace it with open arms.
Patti and I still get invited to various churches to give talks, and I say yes whenever I can. When they screen Jonathan Sperry at various venues, a practice they continue to this day, I show up and talk in those venues as often as I can. What’s so unique about this movie is that kids come to see it—and sharing God’s influence with young people is such a gift.
One lady called me recently to let me know that after seeing the film with her daughter, they were home and she walked in and caught her little girl in her room, lining up all of her stuffed animals and preaching to them. The little girl was saying, “I’m Jonathan Sperry!”
The stories keep coming, and every one of them touches my heart.
Throughout my career, as I’ve mentioned before, whenever I had a death scene (those juicy scenes that I loved to play), it seemed that the director would shoot it first. They didn’t do that in this film. But the movie did involve my character’s death. (I don’t mean to give too much away here, and I don’t think it takes anything away from the film. After all, I haven’t told you what Jonathan Sperry’s “secrets” are!)
The scene at the cemetery was a beautiful scene. Rich had it all worked out so they could do it all in one take. It was like magic. The fact that they were filming my burial scene intrigued me. I wasn’t actually in that scene. I didn’t climb inside the casket as they lowered it into the ground. I’m not a method actor to quite that degree!
This Is Your Captain Speaking: My Fantastic Voyage Through Hollywood, Faith & Life Page 25