All of a sudden, here is Lucy.
Small screen icon Lucille Ball has reappeared on the big screen in two current versions: first in fictional form as boisterous harridan Lucille Dolittle (Christine Ebersole) in Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Licorice Pizza”, then, more importantly again, as its full-blown, pragmatic and pragmatic, as described by Nicole Kidman in Aaron Sorkin’s biopic “Being the Ricardos”.
When the Australian actress was announced for the role, the news sparked a backlash on the internet among fans and insiders alike. As a co-author of a book on Desilu Productions and a longtime “Lucy” aficionado, I shared their concern.
So it was a pleasant surprise to see how skillfully Kidman conveyed the nuances of the star offscreen – provocative, direct, competent, professional – and often humorless. What was missing was her genuine and spontaneous tenderness towards her husband, Desi Arnaz (played by Javier Bardem), so often captured on the “I Love Lucy” shows. In the film, his affection was expressed alternately in the form of sexual passion or jealous rage. (In contrast, “Licorice Pizza” offers a one-dimensional sketch of a big obnoxious star.)
In fact, there was a rarely seen soft side to Lucille – I’m using her full name here to distinguish the actress from the TV character – that I discovered when I first met her.
Lucille has long been portrayed as an uncompromising and astute businesswoman, the first to run a television studio. But in fact, she hated the job and the etiquette that came with it. She ran Desilu Studios because Arnaz left the company after their divorce. She inherited the responsibility and was eager to come out of this yoke.
Distrustful and self-protective, Lucille has always been wary of strangers and their motives, a trait that intensified after her fame exploded. His son-in-law, actor Laurence Luckinbill, once aptly described his reaction to new people: “Stop! Who goes there? “As he said,” Lucille was a sentinel in her own life. “
Lucille Ball has been an important figure to me since I was 13, when I started watching reruns of the classic 1950s “I Love Lucy” shows, then almost two decades old, and I discovered her extraordinarily natural line delivery, her exquisite timing, her gift for skillful physical comedy and an amazing ability to communicate thoughts through facial expressions. But on contemporary talk shows, she seemed brittle and tough, a completely different person than she appeared to be on this show. It became my mission to understand why.
Soon I was in the libraries on a pre-Google quest, compelled to locate biographies and articles from which I could learn more about her. (Unknowingly I was looking for a book I would one day write with Coyne Steven Sanders, “Desilu: The Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz Story.”) But after I graduated from college, I moved from Florida to Manhattan. to pursue a career in journalism. and decided to put Lucy’s obsession behind me.
Yet in less than nine months, I found myself sitting right next to her, and that’s when I came to see with my own eyes the softer, more evasive side of Lucille.
I was the guest of a birthday party for a man named Kieth Dodge, whom I had befriended by chance and later found out to be the girl’s assistant by Lucille, Lucie Arnaz, who played on Broadway in “They’re Playing Our Song”. We all had dinner together one night and the conversation revolved around Lucie’s appearances on her mom’s latest series. I had seen every episode (and let him know). Shortly after, I got an invitation to a birthday brunch Lucie was hosting for Kieth at Tavern on the Green which happened to be Mother’s Day.
When I arrived, I was shown a table set for 11. Empty seats awaited the arrival of the guest of honor and hostess. I chose a seat next to an empty chair, with my back to the entrance to the dining room. The place was packed, buzzing with excitement for Mother’s Day.
Suddenly there was silence, followed by the sound of silverware falling on the plates, then a wave of whispers: “Lucille Ball, Lucille Ball, Lucille Ball.” A red, white, and blue packet of Philip Morris Commander cigarettes was abruptly placed on the cutlery to my left, and she stood there. Lucille lived in Beverly Hills. I could never imagine that she would be on the guest list.
After the introductions, I noticed that when Lucille was speaking, she was making general statements for the benefit of all the guests. As I had seen in her appearances in Cats, she was serious and blunt, but she tried to please because everyone expected her to be funny.
A man with a heavy Puerto Rican accent at the other end of the table said something in a loud but unintelligible voice, and Lucille leaned over and asked me softly, “What the hell is Ricky?” Ricardo says there? “
It seemed like an icebreaker, so I boldly asked if she had ever visited her hometown, Jamestown, NY, just to let her know that I was one of the “cognoscenti”. She said she hadn’t been in years. I then went even further and asked her if she had ever spoken to Marion Strong, her childhood friend whose name was borrowed from a character in the original series. She said she recently spoke to Marion on the phone.
Lucie Arnaz suddenly intervened: “Mom, he knows everything about you.”
Lucille replied, “Yes, I know. He just asked me about Marion Strong. And to add, as if I were not sitting there: “What he care?”
I was flattened, certain I had crossed the line and scared that she would take me for a psychotic fan. To save face, I turned my attention to the guests at the other end of the table. Shortly afterwards, a beautifully manicured hand holding a crystal goblet of water came into my sight, Lucille saying, “Take your drink. Puzzled, I thought my drink was in her way and she wanted me to place it somewhere else, so I reached out to take the drink from her. She pulled it out then pushed it towards me again and commanded, “Have your drink.” Once again, I tried to grab the glass from her, and she pulled it out.
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I felt like I was part of a “Lucy” sketch – or the butt of a joke.
Finally, she offered the glass again, gesturing towards the goblet right in front of me, and ordered, “Take your glass. “Ah! She was trying to offer a nested toast!
– Go ahead, Tom, spat Lucie.
It was such a thoughtful gesture and put the awkwardness behind us. I decided that I liked him.
After that we chatted on general topics. She grabbed my arm and used me as a prop in a story she was telling other guests. I finally had the courage to get a little personal again and asked about his longtime co-star, Vivian Vance. “She is dying,” Lucille confided darkly. (Vance died of cancer three months later.)
After brunch, we retired to a guest’s loft for dessert and birthday gifts. In my state of shortage, I didn’t have a lot of budget for now – I ended up with a meticulously packaged $ 12.95 Lucite Tape Dispenser. The procedure was to circulate the gifts for the guests to admire. Kieth wasn’t impressed with my utility choice and quickly moved it to the next giveaway. But when my sad little office tool crossed the room to Lucille, she exclaimed loudly, “Wow! This is the best tape dispenser I have ever seen! I love I love I love it! All of mine are so clumsy. Where did you get it? ”I didn’t notice her fussing about the other (clearly more expensive) gifts.
I liked him even better.
The dessert event host was a professional photographer, and as things were wrapping up we all gathered for a group photo around the birthday celebrant, who was sitting on an ottoman near Lucille and Lucie. , the rest of us sprawling out behind them. I was on the other end, and Lucille leaned back and grabbed me by my shirt, pulling me straight behind her. “East he in the photo? ”she asked the photographer, knowing how important the resulting photo would be to me.
It was then that I liked Lucille.
