Confessions of a FILMFOX
People are always insisting that all rock idols are actually frustrated movie stars, clawing to get out from behind the mike stand and in front of the kleig lights—Peter Fonda, a show biz sibling, seems to agree. You should have heard him crowing at the irony that he, a "serious actor," debuts in a singing role in his Outlaw Blues pic.
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Confessions of a FILMFOX
People are always insisting that all rock idols are actually frustrated movie stars, clawing to get out from behind the mike stand and in front of the kleig lights—Peter Fonda, a show biz sibling, seems to agree. You should have heard him crowing at the irony that he, a "serious actor," debuts in a singing role in his Outlaw Blues pic. "Why, all my rock friends want to be dramatic actors and I'm the one who gets to play a singer," he chortled over his ham salad sandwich. But maybe the arrogant Mr. F. has something besides that role, that is, because virtually every rocker on both sides of the Atlantic is drooling at the prospect of his starring in the film version of Fear and Loathing.
Although Mick dagger isn't sitting on his hands (or his harem pants) in anticipation, he is giving his cinema career some thought. He's been over at the Paramount Studios, clinching his role in Othello. Mick will play the part of Iago, while Rudie Nureyev will star as the Big O . . . Hubby may be on a winning streak, but Bianca J., that nefarious Nicaraguan, has been making waves and headlines. As in bad publicity. She was hit with a lawsuit to the tune of a cool mil by the producers of Trick or Treat for allegedly walking into the Roman sunset and off the set. She did so after a disagreement with the director over the size of her cabana, but why they're suing her I'll never know, since the picture was never completed. Strike three came from the blue bloods, whose scorn falls heavy on Bianca— specifically, BJ has become persona non grata with England's Princess Margaret after the haughty Bianca met the princess at a royal reception and, rather than curtsy to Meg like all commoners do, she gave her a big hug—and evidently a royal pain.
Speaking of royalty, the Queen of Sheba herself, Liz Taylor, is the lucky recipient of a mash note from Andy Warhol. In fact, Mr. Avant-Garde went so far as gleefully confessing to Earl Wilson that he thought Liz should run for office, as the first woman Vice-President. Andy's zeal is only matched by Jon Peters, who insists that Barbra Streisand would make a terrific President.
Rewinding back to Warhol, here's another sneak preview of his next movie, Bad: That early Sixties sex symbol, Carroll Baker, will portray a frowzy frump who'll meet her dramatic demise in a poetic cross between Gregg Allman and Mary Hartman. Baker meets her maker in a plate of pasta, where she suffocates on a meatball.
Just recovering from terminal amnesia? For those of you who still persist in believing that Sonny and Cher will still get back together someday, listen to Cher's side of the story, Update 465: "I didn't leave Sonny for another man. 1 left him for another woman—me."
Candy Clark is still stewing over her appearance with David Bowie in The Man Who Fell To Earth. Her latest slam was:
"We looked like a couple of worms on the screen."
Only the other day Henry Winkler confessed that when he was younger, his two biggest worries were "that girls would never think me good looking and I would never get a love letter from a girl." But now the Fonz is getting more than fan mail from a flounder, including death threats via the UPS. Instead of merely trying to "return to sender" Henry decided to play it safe— with numbers. He hired himself a trio of bodyguards who accompany him in public.
Mae West and six assorted musclemen, playfully and meaningfully dubbed the Sextettes, attended Don Kirshner's Second Annual ^ Rock Awards so the effervescent and eightyish Mae could watch award host Alice Cooper "work." After all, the old gal is entitled to inspect the merchandise... since she did sign Coop for a cameo role in her upcoming film, appropriately called The Sextettes, Ms. West assures us there will be no four-letter language or nudity —hedging a little that "Maybe the boys will take their clothes off."
The Bird is still the word. That rotund bon vivant, Allen Carr, is planning a film debut for "The Bird," that tousle-topped dream date pitcher for the Detroit Tigers, Mark Fidrych. Who's got the dope? That fair-haired, ex-storefront preacher, Marjoe Gortner, is starring in Acapulco Gold. He'll be playing an innocent man (that's what they all say, bub) mixed up in the worldwide narcotics biz. No relation to Ryan O'Neal, whose charges for possession of marijuana have been dropped, if he agrees to take a drug education course . . . Another famous face also enrolled; Louise "Mary Hartman" Lasser, who was arrested a few months back for possession of cocaine. The reason she's attending is by order of the California court, which demanded that she participate in a six month drug rehabilitation education program. Well Louise, maybe there's some consolation here—you can get Ryan to carry your books home.
