Well, dear readers, I am sitting here like so much fish, having fond memories of my long-ago friendship with one Bud Cort, born Wally Cox. Interestingly, when I met Bud, I had not seen Harold and Maude, the movie that made him famous. I had been auditioning for a Peter Nichols play called Forget-Me-Not Lane at the Mark Taper Forum. I wanted the job so badly, but they just kept bringing me back and bringing me back. It was for a co-starring part of a character’s best friend and I loved the role. Every time I left after an audition, I was sure I didn’t get it. The cast album of A Little Night Music had just come out, and every night before bed I played Every Day a Little Death because every day there was no news. My agent would call to tell me there was no news but that it wasn’t dead. Then they finally brought me back one last time, but to read for the main lead young fellow because they couldn’t find anyone. I didn’t even want that part – I loved the one of the best friend. Anyway, long story long, they got what they wanted – a name for the lead part and I got the friend. At our first rehearsal, I was astonished to see this incredible cast they’d assembled: Donald Moffat, who I’d seen be brilliant in the wonderful APA revival of You Can’t Take It with You. John McMartin, fresh from Follies, and his then-girlfriend Charlotte Moore. Beulah Garrick, who I didn’t know and there was no internet so no way to look her up, but she was a top British character actress for many years, and she did TV movie versions of classic films, Johnny Belinda and Mrs. Miniver. Her most famous film happened after our show – Dog Day Afternoon, playing the role of Margaret. She appeared on Broadway in several very well-known shows – a replacement Mrs. Strakosh in Funny Girl, Juno, Auntie Mame, Bea Lillie’s standby in High Spirits, and several others. The most astonishing thing? She’s still alive at 104 years of age! Betsy Slade, who played Charlotte Moore as a young girl, was a newcomer and she was something special. John Trayne had a small role – he’d appeared in tons of TV episodes. John McMartin, I knew well, of course. Jill Cook completed the cast – she’d just turned eighteen, was sassy and funny and would go on to do Bob Fosse’s Dancin’ and My One and Only. Even our understudies were interesting: Ron Randell for McMartin (he was thrilled I knew him from King of Kings and other movies), John Voldstedt for me (he’d go on to be one of the three Darryl’s on Newhart), Deborah Lee Scott for Betsy, and me for Bud, even though I told him I NEVER wanted to go on for him.
Bud and I thankfully hit it off instantly, just bonded on day one. He didn’t drive or maybe didn’t have a car all the time, so I ended up picking him up and taking him home for rehearsals. Once we opened, I’m not sure how he got there, but he did. I’d pick him up at Sally Kellerman’s house, where he was staying, and we’d just laugh the entire way to the theater. Rehearsals were great fun and our stuff worked like a dream from rehearsal one. Arvin Brown, our director, let us block our big act one scene all by ourselves and never changed one thing about it. Once we moved into the theater for rehearsals and tech, John and Charlotte were always around on lunch breaks, while Bud always wanted to sing show tunes and would bring in sheet music and I’d play for him. We did that over and over again, even on matinee days between shows. Opening night was amazing – we got applause on our entrance, we got applause when we jitterbugged, it was, for me, a dream come true. Bud was good friends with Groucho Marx and brought him to opening night and made sure we met him. In fact, he made sure I met every celebrity who visited backstage, including on one memorable evening, Julie Harris. Those three months were one of the greatest highlights of my life. We each had separate dressing rooms, and each had its own shower. After the show, Bud and I would frequently go downstairs to the Curtain Call restaurant for pie. On one of our off Mondays, he called me and told me to get over to Groucho’s because Groucho wanted to sing and I could play for him. I was there in twenty minutes and what a night THAT was, but that’s all covered in the first memoir. Then there was the memorable night when we went out after the show. The Ray Bradburys had seen the show, and they were wherever we were and we had so much fun with them – their entire family. After food, we got in our cars (I was driving Bud home) and Bud opened the window and mooned the Bradbury family.
After we closed, of course, you all go your separate ways and I think Bud went off to work on whatever projects he was doing. A year later, they were going to tape the play for PBS’ Theater in America but in New York – they only took three of us from LA – Donald, Betsy, and me. Bud and Arvin Brown hadn’t gotten along that well, so in NY we had some new kid in Bud’s role – Tom Hulce. Not to mention Geraldine Fitzgerald, Joseph Mahar, and Joyce Ebert.
I think I ran into Bud a couple of times in the late 1970s/early 1980s, then many years went by. We were in NY in 2015 doing the Kritzerland shows. After the show, many of us went to Joe Allen, of course. And an old guy kept staring at our table and finally he came over. He said, “Do you remember me?” I didn’t recognize him at all, but before I could say anything, he said, “Bud Cort.” He didn’t look anything like the Bud I remembered, but he led a life with too many drugs early on. But the minute I knew it was him, we hugged and laughed and reminisced. He gave me his phone number and I promised to call. I lost the number when I got back to L.A. and found it only a couple of years ago, stuck to the back of some paper I came across. I kept meaning to call to see if the number was good, but I didn’t. Wouldn’t have mattered, as he’d moved back east. I know some people had issues with him and his personality, but I’m happy to say I never really saw that side of him. RIP, dear Bud. Here we are in our big act one scene.
And here was the flyer for the show.
Yesterday was just another do-nothing day until the evening. I only got about six hours of sleep, I had two hot dogs and fries for food, I dozed, and then in the evening I got proofer two’s fixes. He said this was the cleanest manuscript he’d ever gotten from me – usually he has tons of stuff, but for this it was very few things and I got everything entered in a couple of hours. Interestingly, I have the same exact number of Muse Margaret items as I did from proofer one. And that was about it.
Today, I’ll be up by eleven at the latest, I’ll do whatever needs doing, as soon as the shipping tube arrives I’ll go to the mail place and ship a package and pick up whatever’s there for me (it’s been over a week since I’ve been there), then I’ll put gas in the motor car, get some Claritin-D and a vaccination, then eat something fun, then call Muse Margaret and run by her the few things I have questions about. Then I have to figure out who to send it to for blurbs and get the manuscript to them. We’ll do one more proofing, then it can go to the designer and once it’s all designed, I give it the once-over and that’s that. I’ll try to watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow, we resume performances. I’ll get to the theater early so we can run the three little sequences we’ve done some cuts to. I’ll probably stay for the show to see how they work. Saturday and Sunday are performances, then next week is all book stuff and getting things to people, doing the flap copy, all that stuff one has to do.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up by eleven at the latest, do whatever needs doing, ship a package, put gas in the motor car, get some Claritin-D and a vaccination, eat, and try to watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite Bud Cort performances? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy to have relived some memories of Bud.