GTO 3987 on Mulholland

GTO 3987 on Mulholland

Friday, January 14, 2011

My first Ferrari GTO (almost)




Back when I still had my first Ferrari Lusso, I began thinking about acquiring a 250GTO. I had seen one (3987) driving around on the streets of Brentwood and it had really gotten my attention with its looks and sounds. I began my search for a GTO but there weren't many to be found that were for sale. After months of looking, I found one advertised in the classified section of the Los Angeles Times where one could occasionally find exotics. The seller had an office at Paramount Studios and I raced over to see the car before anyone else could get to it. My expectations were high but they went unfulfilled. The car turned out to be a dark blue Lusso and the seller apparently didn't know the difference.

Somehow it came to my attention that Mario Tosi wanted to sell his GTO, which I recall as being Belgian racing yellow. I don't remember whether I heard about it from Sal di Natale or if Mario had advertised it in the Times, but I arranged to go see the car at his home in the Hollywood Hills overlooking the Sunset Strip. Mario was a cinematographer who later worked on one of my favorite films, The Stuntman directed by Richard Rush. His housemate Roberto was the inspiration for the syndicated cartoon series "Love is..." that was created by his girlfriend at the time. Roberto drove a Lusso.

I brought a friend along to see Mario's car and I offered her the first ride in the GTO with Mario. Roberto and I followed in my Lusso up Laurel Canyon to Mulholland where Mario turned west. Once we were on Mulholland, there was no way I could keep pace with the GTO. It simply disappeared around the first turn and though I was very familiar with that section of road and knew how to get the most from the Lusso, it was no match for the race car. A few miles further along, we crossed paths with the GTO as it was coming back after Mario made a U-turn. Perhaps I would see my friend again!

Mario's car looked every bit the race car it was. It was not pristine and looked as thought it had done battle. I loved it immediately. I was not aware of the individual characteristics of the car about which fellow enthusiast Ed Niles would later educate me--that Mario's was originally one of the 4-litre cars using, at the time of this encounter, a 3-litre Testa Rossa motor. I just knew that it was a very sexy car and I wanted it. I don't remember why, but I didn't buy Mario's car--perhaps the timing was wrong. Instead I bought 3987 for more money than Mario was asking and spent even more on rebuilding the engine.

The photos are by Chuck Queener.

Mario and I can be seen with our GTOs in the video "Ferrari GTOs at Willow Springs &..." where Mario's car had been repainted what Ed Niles calls "Resale Red".

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Lloyd Nolan


For a time, the Universal Studios lot was a playground of sorts for me. Paul Stanley was directing episodes of The Road West and I took advantage of his gracious standing invitation to come onto the set whenever he was directing. My first day on the set of that show wasn't on the lot but on location out in the hills north of the 101 and west of Malibu Canyon. I arrived in the early afternoon and found some of the actors sitting around in the shade of the dressing room trailers waiting for their scenes to be shot. Off in the distance, I could see a tribe of Indians making their trek across the countryside for the benefit of the camera and I decided not to join them. "How do you do?" called a voice from behind me. I turned to see the man who addressed me. He was sitting in a "director's" chair dressed in western attire. He rose and extended his hand saying, "My name is Barry Sullivan."

Barry Sullivan was an actor who fit in with the likes of Lee Marvin, Burt Lancaster and Robert Ryan. At that time, I was too young to know who he was but I soon found out that he was one of the series leads that included Glenn Ford, Glenn Corbett, Andrew Prine and Brenda Scott. I was very impressed that he made an effort to welcome an unknown to the set. He showed himself to be a gentleman and, today, I remember him as much for that as for his excellent performance in The Bad and the Beautiful with Kirk Douglas.

There were times when I would pick up the stage phone and call the Universal transportation department and order a limousine. It would arrive at the Road West stage and take me out to the back lot where I would watch Ben Gazzara shooting Run For Your Life. Then I'd have the driver take me to the Laredo set where I would see what was happening there. Life was good.

I came to think of that film studio as a school with each sound stage being a classroom of sorts where you were isolated from the students in the other classrooms. But, just as it happens in any school, when something extraordinary is going on in another classroom, word gets around. One day there was a buzz circulating amongst the grips, carpenters and gaffers--the real tough guys of the movie business--about something going on over on the set of The Virginian. An actor there was impressing the crew--which is really saying something--and word was circulating to the other sound stages. I called my limo--yes, I did--and had the driver take me to where they were shooting. I made it in before the red light came on and watched an older man doing a scene sitting at a campfire. In between takes, I could hear whispers from the crew: "He hits the same beats every time"; "He's amazing!"; "He couldn't blow a line if he tried." The actor had impressed the unimpressable. His name was Lloyd Nolan and I would become a fan of his over the years.

All this was brought to mind when I watched Woody Allen's Hannah and Her Sisters again recently, which featured a fine performance by Lloyd Nolan. As I watched him in the upscale New York setting, all I could think of was that fireside performance at Universal that had crews from other shows abandoning their posts just to catch a glimpse of him. That's an actor.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Carrera Panamericana


I have begun work on a documentary project about the Carrera Panamericana road races held in Mexico from 1950-54. These five-day races were colorful, fast and dangerous--perhaps the most dangerous in the world--and required extraordinary skill and bravery on the part of the drivers just to survive the ordeal.

In addition to using original footage shot during the race, I am interviewing people who were there or have standing to comment and offer perspective on these historic races. If you know of anyone who should be included in this document of an extraordinary competition, please let me know or have them contact me.

Thank you in advance.