Last night I dreamed that I was in a bank-type building, and a stuffy old man behind a counter showed me an Oscar he'd found. "That belongs to Marlon Brando, doesn't it?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "As you know, he refused his Oscar for The Godfather, and this is that Oscar."
I marveled for a moment, then headed out the door. Where I bumped into the man himself. I said, "Marlon! I mean - Mr. Brando!" He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. Then I said, "The people behind the counter there have something that belongs to you." He perked up and headed to the counter, and I booked it out of the building.
When I woke up, I knew that I had to feature him tonight. So here he is, not in his old, diaper-wearing years, but in his youth, when it was impossible to keep your eyes off the man.
Here he is in 1947, testing for Rebel Without a Cause. The movie didn't get made for another eight years, at which point Brando was too old and had other fish to fry. Apparently, he didn't sign on to do this because he didn't want to be tied to a studio for seven years. But can you imagine if this had happened and a teenaged James Dean saw it in the theater?
And here he is on Person to Person with Edward R. Murrow, revealing that Matthew McConaughey wasn't the first actor to get the cops called on him for playing the bongos too late at night.
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1 comment:
Pat--why didn't you tell me about the blog? I had to find out about through our alum magazine--one of the cruelest ways possible! I'm really enjoying this deeper glimpse into your fertile mind.
Rock on, brother!
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