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At this point we decided once more to try to get back to business. "Tell us about the movie you're writing." "I'm working on it with a fellow named Burt Lane," John explained. "We write down in the warehouse where he works. He'll probably get fired if they read this." John also sold another script to the movies, a story about swordfishermen. For background on that he used to go up to Massachusetts ever week end and go out early in the morning on the fishing boats. "Did you always want to be an actor?" we asked. John shook his head. "I was an English major in college," he said, "but I wanted to be a baseball player. I was with the Puttsburgh Pirates in spring training; then I broke my collarbone. You can also say I'm a Baltimore Oriole fan. No one else in New York City is!"
JOHN CASSAVETES, who's scored in tough-guy roles, is a mild-mannered 27-year-old, a little on the inhibited side. Of Greek descent, John took up acting to aid his writing career, did such a great job in Crime in the Streets in TV playhouse that he got to do it in films. A New Yorker, he's married.
We made one last attempt to get back to the serious business of the interview. "I hear you have made a movie already." "Yes," said John. "I made Terror In The Night for Columbia. Give them a plug too." "Since you're writing a script on bullfighting," we inquired, "would you like to try some yourself." John closed his eyes and shuddered. "Bullfighting? Are you kidding? I'd be scared to death! Besides, I'm not so much interested in the bullfight as in the people who do it." We managed somehow, reluctantly, to tear ourselves away from John and Gena. I tripped over the tiger as we left, jumped a little and mumbled an uneasy apology. The tiger just stared; but as we stood at the door waving goodby—it may have been the light—but I could have sworn that the tiger waved back.
|"That John!" Gena said vehemently. "He took me to a baseball game and kept sneaking me into the boxes. 'We don't want to sit way up there in the bleachers,' he'd say. The ushers kept kicking us out and the fans kept shouting, 'If you don't have a seat, go home!' Now," she said with a sigh, "we watch our baseball on TV." From here we progressed, quite illogically, to the joys of Greek cooking, and two minutes later John and TV Fan Editor Joan Curtis were exchanging recipes and chatting nostalgically about dolmades (stuffed grape leaves) while Gena turned up her pretty nose at the mention of a certain egg sauce. Three minutes later John was throwing his arms around Joan and she was inviting everyone over to her house to eat dolmades and sample a few other Grecian goodies.|
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You are on page 17 of the John Cassavetes Scrapbook pages in Ray Carney's www.Cassavetes.com. This text is copyright 2003 by Ray Carney and may not be reproduced without written permission. All rights reserved.