Mission: Impossible

Back in the day when I already knew I wanted to direct film but was still too young to do anything about it, I took advantage of an invitation from a friend of the family to visit any set where he was shooting. His name was Paul Stanley and he directed a lot of television--most notably, the TV series Mission: Impossible. He also drove a fuel injected '59 Corvette, which I enjoyed driving from time to time. I practically lived on the set of that show located on the Paramount lot next to the soundstage where they shot Star Trek. Peter Graves, Martin Landau, Barbara Bain, Greg Morris and Peter Lupus all contributed to my formation as a filmmaker though they they probably had no idea at the time.

There was a car connection on the Mission: Impossible set in addition to Paul in the form of cinematographer Michel Hugo, a Frenchman and aficionado of the Citroën DS. Knowing that I was a car guy--I was driving a Ferrari Berlinetta Lusso in my teens--Michel took every opportunity to extoll its virtues. At social gatherings, his wife would take up the argument that I should buy a Citroën Pallas and discover the joys of unparalleled technical innovation. It seems they both drove and enjoyed their Citroëns.

Although I acquired a taste for the DS, I never did own one. However, I think it's interesting that the first project I worked on after moving to Paris was a publicity film that a friend of mine was making for---Citroën. I spent several terrific days at the Citroën test track in the middle of a forest doing stunts and maneuvers with the new line of Citroën CXs.

Michel would have been proud!

General Richard Wilmot

This from my friend and associate General Richard Wilmot:

Fort Lee, Virginia is the setting and the Airborne Department of the US Army Quartermaster School the organization involved.

Colonel Harold Dorsett is the Director of the Airborne Department and he is a tough old coot with a booming voice and a rather short temper. He, was in charge of the Parachute Packing and Parachute Air Delivery Department of the Quartermaster School---tough paratroop boys. Harold had invited the Cadets at VMI to come to Ft. Lee to witness an airborne demonstration. The public was also invited and it was to be an exciting day with three or four thousand civilians and the cadets coming to witness the event.

I was a captain at the time and one of Harold Dorsett’s crew. I went to the drop zone early and my job was to jump out of an Army Otter airplane and serve as a so-called “wind dummy.” The wind dummy helped the follow on skydivers to see how the wind might impact there parachute flight path. This technique was used long before the sophistication of skydiving we know today.

Two of my companions and I flew across the drop zone and jumped out at the appropriate time. We let the wind take our parachutes on a nice ride and we drifted across the drop zone and as a result the skydivers who would follow us could get a good idea of how the wind would affect their flight path. When I landed, I removed my parachute, and my job was done for the day so I went to the bleacher area and took a seat to watch the big show.

Dorsett and his bunch of skydivers took off and flew to altitude for their demonstration jump. As they were making their final approach I had a strange, powerful premonition--I knew Colonel Dorsett was going to land in the middle of the parking lot and on top of my car.

I so believed this would happen that I ran to my car as the jumpers left the airplane and I watched them descend. Sure enough, the colonel--and only the colonel--was heading for the parking lot (which was full of cars) and on course to hit my car. At the last moment before impact he raised his feet which allowed him to clear the top of a Volkswagen by inches and he smashed into the side of my vehicle. I owned a four door station wagon and he hit the back door on the passenger side, breaking the window glass, cutting his hands, placing his chin on the top of the car, loosening up all his teeth, crushing the door, breaking two ribs and leaving large abrasions on his knees all before coming to rest on the ground, on his back between my car and the Volkswagen.

I was standing over Colonel D and he said to me, “What the hell was that all about? Did I hit your car?”

I responded with a “Yes Sir.”

He countered with, “Very good--at least we kept it in the family.”

Colonel Dorsett retired about six months after the incident and at his retirement party we gave him the door. We had painted our names on the door and he was mightily surprised to receive such a valued gift.

Colonel Dorsett went on to become a professor at a university somewhere in the USA (I do not know where). Some several months later it was reported by one of the Airborne Department officers who visited Dorsett in his new home after his retirement that:

"The mighty Colonel Dorsett had hung the battered door with our names painted on it in a place of honor in his home------over the fireplace in the living room."

I will always remember the colorful gentleman who was Colonel Harold Dorsett.

Lino Ventura & Steve McQueen

Shortly after moving to Paris for the first time and becoming situated, I started putting myself about. My reason for being in France was to launch a film career and some of the films that inspired me--Classe tous risques, Le deuxième souffle, Le Clan des Siciliens, L'Aventure C'est L'Aventure, Garde A Vue--all had a common denominator in the form of an incredible actor, Lino Ventura. I wanted to meet him.

All it took was a phone call and I was invited to Lino's home in Saint-Cloud only a few miles from the center of Paris. He met us at the door holding back an excited and protective German (or Belgian?) shepherd. After a quick hello to his curious daughter, we secluded ourselves in his study where we talked film, past and present, and the possibility of working together. Lino was not averse to collaborating with first time directors.

At the conclusion of our long talk, Lino insisted on driving me back into Paris. During the ride, the subject of Steve McQueen came up. Lino's only comment was, "J'ai peur pour lui" ("I fear for him"). At the time, it struck me as an odd thing to say. A year later, McQueen succumbed to mesothelioma and I would never know if Lino's concern was instinctual or if he had known McQueen personally as his illness had not been publicly announced at that point.

Gotan Project--Triptico

Too good not to post here:

General Joseph Lickun

One of the most fascinating stories ever told at an Elysée Wednesday gathering was recounted last night about this man by his son Bobby.

Philippe Léotard

During the time I was first living in France, my agent in Los Angeles suggested I produce a TV pilot that she might sell in the U.S.--a travelogue or cooking show, perhaps. Neither of these were of interest to me, but it did intrigue me to combine the two concepts and include a French actor to host the show. I approached Philippe Léotard who agreed. I then went to Alain Bernardin who owned the Crazy Horse Saloon on the Avenue Georges V and asked if I could borrow one of his Crazy Horse showgirls to appear in the production as Philippe's assistant. I had recently acquired the U.S. cable TV rights to the Crazy Horse Saloon and Alain was very happy to oblige.

I tend to write dialogue as the crew is setting up the lighting for a scene and this is what I did for Philippe. The only problem was that he didn't speak English, so he would have to learn the text phonetically. He rehearsed with my assistant and was word perfect. It was a fun shoot using Notre Dame, l'Arc de Triomphe, la Place du Tertre and La Mère Catherine as backdrop for a very whimsical look at cooking in the French style. Renault provided a car and Rolex a gold Day-Date for Philippe to use on camera. The result was The French Chef.

As you might well imagine, the girl from the Crazy Horse Saloon stole the show!

Jeanne Moreau

We had an excellent turn-out this evening at Elysée Wednesday; a really nice bunch of people from the Ferrari world bringing cars that included a red 355 Spider and a Pozzi blue 575 Maranello. What held me spellbound was Gérard Ismaël's recounting of his experience rehearsing and performing in a play in Paris with Jeanne Moreau. I will never forget it.