The musings of Sean Paul Murphy: Editor, Producer, Screenwriter, Author. Or, Hollywood -- and beyond -- as seen from an odd little corner of northeast Baltimore, Maryland.
Here's another COVID free ZOOM edition of the Yippee-Ki-Yay Mother Podcast, a lively discussion of the movies that sometimes devolves into a group therapy session.
In this episode, Deborah brings 1950 George Cukor classic Born Yesterday to the table. The film features an Oscar-winning performance by Judy Holliday, but does it still hold up today? Check it our discussion and find out.
My novel Chapel Street is now available! You can currently buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble.
The Quattrucci Brothers, Ralph and John, invited me back on their show to discuss the legacy of the late actor William Hurt. I have always been a fan of his work, but I had never dug deeply into his personal life. What I read after his death horrified me. I am surprised I had never heard about his persistent abuse of women, especially in our new #MeToo age. Once again, the three of us must discuss whether it is possible to separate the artist from the man.
The next time they ask me on the show to discuss a celebrity death, I hope it's someone I can wholeheartedly mourn....
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He lived with his brother Norbert, his sister Rita and her husband Bob on Evergreen Avenue in Northeast Baltimore. Although he certainly had the means to do so, Uncle Buzzy never bought his own house. Buying a house with your parents and siblings was The Rosenberger Way. It wasn't a question of a failure to launch. It was a question of why launch at all? The idea itself was absurd. When I bought my own home, my uncle Norbert was aghast. Why was I leaving my parents? I wasn't even married.
The evening he died, Uncle Buzzy enjoyed a spaghetti dinner prepared by my grandmother before going down into the basement to work out on his exercise bike. When he came upstairs to watch television in the living room he tumbled over as a result of a massive heart attack.
That was also The Rosenberger Way. Alive and well one second, dead the next. No warning. No waiting.
I raced over to their house. I picked up my uncle Norbert and followed the ambulance to nearby Good Samaritan Hospital. When we arrived, the paramedics said Uncle Buzzy was dead. They asked Norbert if he wanted to see him. He said no. I drove him home. Uncle Norbert took the news very stoically. That was also The Rosenberger Way. Their unique mix of Bavarian/Bohemian genes didn't lend itself to much outward displays of emotion.
Uncle Buzzy was 64-years-old.
At the time of his death, Uncle Buzzy seemed old to me. Now, as I approach his exit age, I find myself saddened by a life cut too short. In many ways he was in the prime of his life. He had retired from his job as a pipefitter in the Annapolis area. Although most Rosenbergers were inwardly focused toward their families, Buzzy had a lot of friends. He enjoyed hanging out with them. He would spend the afternoon with them in bars before returning home for dinner.
Uncle Buzzy, circa 1980.
Uncle Buzzy also had a real passion for fishing, particularly on the Chesapeake Bay. He participated in many tournaments and won a number of awards. I joined him on a few outings when I was very young but my proclivity toward seasickness ended my career as a fisherman before it began. When I posted my first online memorial to him, I used the picture below. My mother objected, saying that there were better pictures of him. I replied that I thought it was the perfect picture. He loved fishing and he was obviously proud of that catch.
As time passes, I find myself missing him more. I wish he was alive when I began doing the family tree. I found it difficult to pry many details concerning the Rosenbergers from my surviving relatives. That wasn't a result of any shame. They just didn't talk much about the past. What was the point?
Looking back, Uncle Buzzy was definitely the most outgoing of my immediate Rosenbergers. He was friendly and didn't seem to mind talking. I'm sure he would have regaled me with stories of his parents and grandparents. He could have brought life to my list of names and dates.
I would also love to have talked to him about his experiences during World War II as a member of Company B, 304th Engineer Combat Battalion, 79th Division. Uncle Buzzy was a volunteer, but he was too young to sign up himself. He needed his parents permission to fight and they gave it. I don't remember him talking about his experiences much. Once he told me his favorite day during the war was liberating a wine cellar in Luxemburg. He also let us see the battlefield souvenirs he brought home with him like Nazi armbands and even a German pistol. I also heard that he visited our family's hometown in Bavaria while he was in Europe.
He didn't seem to mind talking about his experiences. When one of my girlfriends needed to interview a veteran for a school project, Uncle Buzzy was only too happy to talk with her. I wasn't present for the interview and I never saw the paper. I wish I had a copy of it now! However, I did find an unique memento of his World War II service long after he died.
When I dove into genealogy, I started scanning all of the family photo albums I could find. I found one belonging to Uncle Buzzy. It contained page after page of photos of the guys from his unit. One hundred and thirty in all. They were arranged on pages by states: New York would have five pages, Maryland would have two pages, Georgia would have one, etc. I was impressed. Obviously, the guys in his unit were important enough to him that he got all of their photos, and he knew them well enough to remember what state they came from.
Photo of Company B at rest
Usually, when I scan photo albums, I scan a page at a time and digitally cut out the individual photos later. That's how I started with this album, but I had a problem. The paper was so fragile it was pointless to try to scan whole pages. I had to remove the photos from the pages. When I did, I discovered that the names and addresses of the men were written on the back. Now the faces had names.
After I scanned the photos, I began looking the men up on genealogical search engines. I couldn't identify all of them. The addresses often weren't specific enough. Obviously, for example, there's more than one Joe Smith in Brooklyn. However, I found a surprising number of the men. As I did, I got the answer to a question I had been wondering about: Did they exchange photos before they went overseas or when they came home? The answer was before they went overseas. How did I find out? Because a number of the men were killed in action.
I would like to honor a few of those men here. I only wish I could tell you about all of them, but I only have room for a few.
Let's start with Lt. Warren F. Hall, Jr., who was born on 4 October 1916 in Johnstown, Pennsylvania.
Lt. Warren F. Hall, Jr.
These stories below will give you an idea of the kind of jobs Company B of the 304th Engineer Combat Battalion performed.
The San Bernardino County Sun (San Bernardino, California), 22 Aug 1944, Tuesday:
Doughboys Catch Enemy Completely by Surprise
In Bridging Seine 25 Miles Northwest of Paris
By Hal Boyle
WITH AMERICAN FORCES NORTH OF THE SEINE RIVER, Aug. 21 (AP) -- American doughboys in an operation which caught the Nazis completely by surprise have established and solidified a bridgehead across the vital Seine river 25 miles northwest of Paris.
The first troops crossed by ferry and assault boats Saturday night in the vicinity of Mantes and Glassicourt and now are so firmly established that they have no fear of a Nazi counterattack.
"We are all set and waiting for them -- with plenty of that artillery they met before," said Lt. Col. A.C. Dorhmann, of Seward, Neb., who said that in the first hours of the attack across the river American infantry outflanked and captured eight German 88-mm. guns overlooking Mantes and Glassicourt.
Realizing that this spearhead threatened the retreat of all their hodge-podge elements which they had been able to ferry across the bridgeless Seine, the Nazis began to move troops, but American artillery immediately took them under fire.
One German company was caught by a heavy barrage as it was trying to move in from the east to strengthen the garrison in Limay, a small village across the Seine northeast of Mantes.
"One German who gave up as soon as he could find somebody to take him prisoner said we have destroyed 75 per cent of his company," said Sgt. Leon Moss, Canton, Ill.
This was subsequently confirmed by higher officers.
Capture of the German 88-guns was accomplished by quickly advancing doughboys who surprised the Nazi crews eating breakfast Sunday morning and shot up or captured all except a few who fled on bicycles and in civilian automobiles they had stolen.
Lt. Warren Hall, of Johnstown, Pa, said:
"One of our boys killed six of them running across a field, with eight shots from his rifle. Later, he, himself, was shot through the neck with a tracer bullet. You could see daylight through it -- but he is going to come out all right."
The crossing of the Seine was made on the largest bridge of its type constructed by the American Army in France during this war. It was completed six hours from the time the first pontoon was floated in rain and midnight blackness.
I made a tour of our bridgehead across the Seine this afternoon and failed to see a single German. I had an eerie feeling driving past forests and ravines which offered natural positions for German emplacements and yet finding no sign of Nazi defense.
The inspection emphasized that the original German defenses in France consisted of nothing more than a brittle crust.
A longer version of the AP story in a Pennsylvania newspaper gave Lt. Hall a greater opportunity to elaborate on the crossing, and the role of the 304th. (I am only including the portion with Lt. Hall.)
The Daily American (Somerset, Pennsylvania), 22 Aug 1944, Tuesday:
.....Lt. Warren Hall, of Johnstown, engineering officer, told how the speeding Yanks surprised the Nazis by crossing the Seine, several miles from the point where the Germans had set up static defenses.
"First we took the doughboys over in our rubber assault boats," he said. "Each held a dozen infantrymen and three combat engineers who had to bring the boats back.
One Burst of Fire
"There was only one burst of fire from downstream during the whole operation--and nobody was hurt. The enemy was eating breakfast on a hill and as they ate our advanced infantry surrounded them and opened fire. Only one gun was manned by them and its crew ran away.
"We killed or captured all who did not surrender or get away by bicycle or motor car. They didn't have a chance once we opened up on them.
"One of our boys killed six of them running across a field, with eight shots from his rifle. Later he, himself, was shot through the neck with a tracer bullet. You could see daylight through it--but he is going to come out all right."
"Yes and he was the calmest guy on the river," said Pvt. John Thompson, Passaic, N.J.
John Thompson, quoted above.
Building bridges and surprising the Nazis? Sounds like a great adventure, but the stakes were high. Not all of the boys in Company B came home alive.
Meet Private Ray Vivian Patton. He was a farm boy born in Georgia on 2 January 1924 and died in France on 3 August 1944. I could not find any details regarding his death aside from a brief mention of him in a Georgia newspaper in 1948 which said he died on a Normandy beach. At the time of his death, Ray had three brothers fighting abroad: Two in Italy and one in New Guinea. I hope they made it home safely.
Ray Vivian Patton
Meet PFC Grady Y. Brannon. He was born on 12 May 1918 in Calhoun, Mississippi. He was married and working on a WPA project when he registered for the draft. He died 29 March 1945 in Europe, presumably Germany. I could find no details regarding his death.
Grady Young Brannon
Meet Dewey Bundy He was born on 3 August 1914 in Isabella, Michigan. He worked for the Isabella County Road Commission prior to his entry into the service. Dewey was killed in France on 22 June 1944. Once again, I could find no details about his service and death. That's frustrating. With all of the information available online today, you'd think there'd be a database where we could read about the sacrifices of our American heroes.
Dewey Bundy
Meet Arthur Porche. He was born on 18 June 1918 in New Orleans, Louisiana. He died four days after his birthday on 22 June 1944 in France. Arthur was probably the first member of the 304th killed in action. I believe the unit arrived in France on D Day Plus Two, which would be the 8th of June. That meant he was killed within fourteen days of arrival.
Arthur Porche
Meet Sgt. August Herman Schillenkamp. He was born on 20 April 1906 in Orleans Parish, Louisiana. He was killed on 3 April 1944 in France. He was thirty-eight-years old when he died of wounds. I initially thought, since he was a Sergeant, that he might have been a career soldier. Not the case. Thirty-eight seems to be pretty old to go to war. You have to admire him.
Not all the heroes died. Some lived to tell their tales. For example, there is Rayford Lee Fain who won four Bronze Stars during his time with the unit. He worked for RJ Reynolds in North Carolina and died in November 2015 at the age of 94.
Rayford Lee Fain
Donald Leroy Morris was another hero. He was wounded in 1944 in France. He received the Purple Heart with 1 Oak Leaf Cluster, the American Defense Service Ribbon and The European African Theater Ribbon with three Bronze Stars. He was a master auto technician in Indiana and died in July 1995 at the age of 75.
Donald Leroy Morris
Finally, let me introduce you to William Carl Riddle, Jr. He was born on 20 November 1921 in Durham, North Carolina. He was married and working for a bottling/packing company prior to his service.
I don't know much about his service with the unit. I am including him because I liked the photo below taken on his 50th wedding anniversary. I'm glad he managed to enjoy a long and healthy life prior to his death on 10 August 1998 at the age of 76.
I am proud of my Uncle Buzzy's service with this tremendous Band of Brothers. I am glad he kept a photo album to remember them by and I am happy to tell their stories now. I will keep researching this group of American heroes who put their lives on the line to maintain our freedom.
Don't be surprised if I continue to add more stories in the future.
Be sure to check out my novel Chapel Street. It tells the story of a young man straddling the line between sanity and madness while battling a demonic entity that has driven his family members to suicide for generations. It was inspired by an actual haunting my family experienced.
You can buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble.
Here's another COVID free ZOOM edition of the Yippee-Ki-Yay Mother Podcast, a lively discussion of the movies that sometimes devolves into a group therapy session.
We returned to our Round Robin format again to discuss Biblical Epics, a genre the studios turned to help save them from the threat of television. Each Mother Podcaster brings their favorite Biblical Epic to the table from 1951's Quo Vadis to 2014's Noah with some groovy stops in between. Check it out.
My novel Chapel Street is now available! You can currently buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble.
Early in my "professional" career, I wrote a blog called Make The Changes.
In that blog, I argued that it was essential for you make the changes requested by the studio, the distributor, producers, investors, directors, actors, producers' mistresses, etc., after you sell your script. My advice boiled down to two reasons. 1). If you don't make the changes someone else will. Most likely someone without your passion for the material. Therefore, the longer you remain active on the project, the greater your opportunity to mitigate the damage done by thoughtless or stupid changes. 2). Career longevity. I'll never forget something I read on the webpage of a manager who handled screenwriters. It said "Screenwriters have short careers because once they become successful they refuse to make the changes." So true! No producer or director or actor wants to work with a screenwriter who refuses to make any changes.
So I made the changes -- trying to make them as palatable as possible.
Did my philosophy pay off? Tough question.
Looking back, I can say that I am very happy with all of my short films. I made a few comic shorts with friends where I wasn't compelled to make any changes except for budgetary concerns. Additionally, I was commissioned to write a number of true crime short films for the FBI. Those were high stakes projects that went through long approval processes and a number of changes. I am really happy with them, too. The changes were usually reasonable, since my clients and stakeholders were all working toward an agreed and understood purpose. The notes weren't arbitrary or ego driven. They made sense and advanced the project. I am very proud of those films, and some of them actually won Emmys when they ran on the Pentagon Channel.
My feature films, however, are a very mixed bag.
I have written fourteen produced feature films. Only two of them, my first produced feature film 21 Eyes and my documentary Sacred Ground:The Battle For Mount Auburn Cemetery, are truly reflective of my vision as a screenwriter. The rest are incredibly hit and miss. Of the remaining twelve pictures, I only find genuine enjoyment in about five of them. Others came close. Others I watched once and will never watch again.
Despite their low budgets, most of my films were adequately produced and professionally acted. So what was the problem? The scripts. They were twisted and turned until they became bent and broken -- in my opinion. Characters became inconsistent. Unmotivated actions and relationships arose. Themes were lost. Plot threads were abandoned. I actually found some of my films painful to watch. Ironically, I had helped make some of those destructive changes, out of fear that the scripts would become even worse if I walked away. Maybe I was right. Maybe I was wrong. And maybe I'm being too hard on my films. Even the "worst" pictures have fans. Then again, those fans will never know how much better the films could have been.
So do I stand by my original advice to make the changes? Yes, I do. Once you sell your script, you should make the changes for the reasons I articulated. However, you will avoid less soul-searching as a writer if you avail yourself of the power to say no.
Some screenwriters, particularly aspiring ones, feel frustrated by the power that producers and directors have to say no to them. The power to say no can be very daunting. For a professional feature film to be produced, a long line of people have to say yes. Yet one person can kill it with a no.
To make matters worse, the default answer to every query is no. Before that famous producer or director reads your script, it gets filtered through a reader or assistant. They are instinctively inclined to say no. They dread walking into the office on Monday morning to receive an angry rant from their boss about the time they wasted on that piece of shit script they recommended. Nope. It's easier to pass on what could be next year's blockbuster than risk another soul-crushing lecture. After all, chances are the boss will never remember that the hit was ever offered to their company in the first place.
Yes, as screenwriters we have to wade through a sea of nos to find that yes. However, many of us forget that we have the power to say no too!
Trust me, I know how hard it is to say no to someone who says they want to produce your script, but your yes should never be automatic. In fact, I wish I had the courage of some younger writers I have come across.
An unproduced screenwriter asked me about an offer she received on one of her scripts. She was obviously excited. She wanted a little advice before she said yes. My first question was whether the company had made any other films. Her answer was yes. I asked if she watched any of them. Another yes. I asked what she thought? She said they were bad but she blamed the scripts. I asked her what made her think the scripts were bad? Perhaps they were originally good, but they were very badly executed or rewritten. You can't always judge the script itself by the final film. You can only judge the film by the film. If you don't like a company's films, perhaps you shouldn't trust them with your baby. She thought about it and turned down the offer. That took some courage! Now that same script is being optioned by a production company that has made some wonderful pictures. She exercised her power to say no and she is being rewarded for it.
Another unproduced writer I know had an even more difficult choice. An established production company expressed interest in his script, which had done well in some writing contests. He wasn't necessarily enamored with their previous work, but he found it adequate. To him, the question was more career driven. He wanted to become a professional screenwriter. To quit his day job, he needed another source of health insurance. Therefore, it was essential for him to become a member of the Writers Guild of America. He knew the company had worked with the union previously, but they didn't want to go union with this project. He asked me what I thought. I told him to be straightforward with them. He did. They refused, so he walked away. Wow. More power to him!
I think my career as a screenwriter would have been much happier if I possessed the wisdom of those two young screenwriters.. My most disastrous experiences happened on assignments. I could have just said no. Deep down, I knew some of those mostly ego-driven concepts were doomed from the start. I realized they weren't going to be creatively, intellectually or spiritually satisfying. I took the assignments as creative challenges. Or out of friendship. Or as pay checks. So maybe I deserved what I got.
The screenwriter Rita Mae Brown once said, "You sell a screenplay like you sell a car. If someone drives it off a cliff, that’s it."
She's right. That's their prerogative. That's why I recommend that you make the changes when you sell your screenplay or take an assignment. Perhaps you can help the owners avoid the cliff. Sometimes you will, sometimes you won't.
However, you can avoid the cliff altogether if you exercise your power to say no first.
Don't be so anxious to sign on the dotted line.
Talk with the buyer. Find out what excited them about your script. And, more importantly, ask them what they think has to be improved. If you ask enough questions, you'll find it much easier to say yes -- or no.
Here's another COVID free ZOOM edition of the Yippee-Ki-Yay Mother Podcast, a lively discussion of the movies that sometimes devolves into a group therapy session.
We returned to our Round Robin format to discuss World War II films at the suggestion of our son in law and former Kansas City Chief Eric Hicks. Eric previously appeared on our episode about the football film Any Given Sunday. During that show, Eric mentioned his great interest in the Second World War and said he would be happy to return to discuss films on the subject. We took him up on his offer. With so many excellent films to choose from, we had a great discussion made all the more relevant by the recent events in Ukraine.
My novel Chapel Street is now available! You can currently buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble.
Here's another COVID free ZOOM edition of the Yippee-Ki-Yay Mother Podcast, a lively discussion of the movies that sometimes devolves into a group therapy session.
Drew Gould returned to the fold to discuss the Oscar-nominated The Power Of The Dog, directed by Jane Campion. The western proves to be a point of departure to discuss the state of Academy Awards today and whether they remain culturally relevant. Be warned: Spoilers. And this is a film you don't want spoiled....
My novel Chapel Street is now available! You can currently buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble.
