At Least I Was Ready for My New York Moment

Ah, the choices we make

JSB in his triumphant role as “Attendant”

Winston Conrad "Wink" Martindale died at the age of 91. He was best known as the genial host of such game shows as "Gambit" and "Tic-Tac-Dough." Indeed, a lot of dough he made, as game show hosts do. The late Alex Trebek of “Jeopardy” fame made an Everest of green, taping shows just three times a week. Another winner of those sweepstakes is the recently retired Pat Sajak of “Wheel of Fortune.” Emphasis on fortune. An easy gig, especially compared to digging ditches or practicing law.

I had a chance to hop aboard that gravy train (possibly) when I was fresh out of college. I made some side money performing walk-around magic in bars and restaurants, and the occasional kid’s show, once at the famous Magic Castle in Hollywood.

And once for a Boy Scout troop. As I stepped out onto the auditorium stage I looked at the front row and saw a familiar face, that of Mr. Larry Hovis, the comic actor who gained fame in the sitcom Hogan’s Heroes.

Larry Hovis

I began my routine with the color-changing silks, and after the big finish I saw Hovis’s expression of smiling awe. I was a hit!

After the show Hovis came up to me. He complimented me on the performance and said he was working with Ralph Edwards Productions. I knew that name. Edwards produced some of the most popular game shows on TV. Hovis gave me his card and said, “Call us and set up an appointment.”

Ah, the folly of youth. I was intent on becoming an actor, a serious actor, a Marlon Brando who went to New York to study for the stage, and thence to the movies for immortal stardom.

Game show host? Me? Never would I sink to that level.

Hoo boy.

I never made the call. What would life have been like if I had?

Well, you know how that goes. You’ve seen It’s a Wonderful Life. If I’d made the choice, maybe I would have been a multi-millionaire. But then again, I probably wouldn’t have met my lovely wife, and that’s a price I would never pay.

I did go to New York. And I did act on the stage.

I was freshly arrived in New York City and living at The Leo House on West 23d. Across the street at that time was the Roundabout Theater. I walked over there one day and asked for a job. I got one, pushing around scenery for their current production, Shaw’s You Never Can Tell.

As part of the deal, I got to audition for their upcoming production of Othello.

And I got the part! My first paid acting role! As … Attendant. No lines, but I didn’t care. I was doing Shakespeare Off-Broadway, in tights and everything!

Earle Hyman was Othello. Also in the cast was a young Powers Boothe as Roderigo.

And so we began rehearsals. I loved every minute of it, even though my part was just walking on, standing, and walking off. But when I was off, I’d listen. I’d listen to how Earle and Nicholas Kepros (Iago) did Shakespeare. Iago has some of the best lines in the entire canon, and I determined to play that role someday.

In fact, one night before the show I was sitting backstage with Earle. He was so generous to the young actors, down-to-earth and always willing to give advice. I mentioned I wanted to play Iago someday, and he said, “You’re perfect for it!”

“I am?” I said, wondering if some nefarious part of my personality had leaked out.

“Oh, yes,” Earle said. “You have an open, honest face.” (This, mind you, was well before I went to law school.) He explained, “Othello calls him ‘honest, honest Iago.’ It’s wrong to play the part as an obvious villain.”

I then breezily but sincerely told him I was going to mount a production of Othello someday and play Iago, and that I wanted him to play the lead.

“I’ll do it!” he said.

A lovely man.

So the show opened and was well received by the Times. I continued to listen. I was something of a voice impersonator in those days. I’d crack up the cast by doing imitations of the various actors.

Then one night it happened. My big moment.

Now, to fully appreciate what I’m about to relate it is necessary that you know the classic film All About Eve. If you have not seen it and wish to be spared knowing the plot twist, you might want to skip to the last paragraphs of this post.

In brief, All About Eve is the story of a theater diva named Margo Channing (Bette Davis). A devoted young fan named Eve Harrington (Anne Baxter) comes to her and pours out her heart about loving the theater and idolizing Margo. This gets her a job as Margo’s assistant.

What we come to learn is that Eve Harrington has only one thought in mind—to displace Margo as the star of a new hit play. She underhandedly snags the understudy role. And then she sets in motion an elaborate scheme so Margo will be unable to make curtain one night.

Eve is a sensation, and from there turns her back on everyone who’s helped her as she ascends the stairway to stardom.

Back to Othello. One night, about an hour and half before curtain, a call comes in from the actor playing Montano—a minor role, but with significant lines. He was stuck in Brooklyn and wouldn’t be able to make the show. I can’t remember why, but I assure you I had nothing to do with it.

The stage manager was in a panic. There were no understudies. Then someone told him, “Jim knows the part. He knows all the parts.”

The stage manager rushed over to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Do you? Do you really know the part?”

“What from the cape can you discern at sea?” I said, quoting Montano’s first line.

“You’re going on!”

On! Me! I was giddy as he spent twenty minutes with me on the stage, walking me through the blocking. I only half listened, for my other half was loop-quoting the Bard: “Yet heavens have glory for this victory!”

Then I was dismissed to go get ready for the performance.

As I entered the dressing room, everyone was already putting on makeup or getting into costume. The moment I appeared our Iago, Nick Kepros, in a voice dripping with droll amusement and loud enough for all to hear, said, “Well, well, if it isn’t Eve Harrington!”

The room exploded in laughter. It was the perfect line, brilliantly delivered.

So on I went.

Nailed it!

Though it was one night only and did not catapult me to stardom, it was supremely satisfying. I had spoken Shakespeare on a stage in New York! And received warm congratulations from the cast, including Mr. Earle Hyman.

All that to say, the old saw about luck being the intersection of preparation and opportunity applies.

So prepare!

Quote of the Week:

“An actor’s success has the life expectancy of a small boy about to look into the gas tank with a lighted match.” – Fred Allen