By the time the press had delivered their body blows to Francis Coppola in response to his deeply personal, experimental film Rumble Fish, he already knew his next project was The Cotton Club. The assignment started off slowly. Producer Robert Evans was now working independently after several down years. He had been at the top of his game with the extraordinary success of Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby and Chinatown, but his career suffered when he was convicted of cocaine possession. In 1982 Evans optioned James Haskins's The Cotton Club, which was a photographic history of Harlem's famed Cotton Club. The club had flourished during Prohibition with an array of black entertainers and white customers. It was Evans's idea to make the film as a lavish musical and a gangster story. He thought the melding of two popular genres would have audience appeal. Evans was able to obtain backing for a $20 million project from the Doumani brothers, who owned casinos in Las Vegas. Initially Evans had Robert Altman as director and floated star names like Al Pacino and Sylvester Stallone. When Evans's drug issues stalled the planning, Altman exited. Evans got a commitment from Richard Gere to appear in The Cotton Club. Gere was considered a guaranteed draw after the megahit An Officer and a Gentleman. Because the film was to be part gangster plot, Evans hired Mario Puzo to prepare a first draft script. The script Puzo presented to Robert Evans in mid-1982 was not acceptable to him, and Evans decided to contact Coppola for help. Coppola and Evans were not pals, but Evans knew that Coppola was in dire straits, and he took advantage. Evans phoned Coppola and said, “I have a sick child. I need a doctor.”1 Coppola said he would be happy to help with the script for a week or so gratis.
What began as a week's obligation ended in over a year's worth of Coppola's professional life.
When Coppola read Puzo's draft he found a jumbled and unusable blueprint. After a discussion with Evans, Coppola agreed to totally rework the script for $500 thousand. Coppola had delivered before when scripts were in trouble, and his writing talents could be put to good use on this project. Francis mapped out an approach that involved key players in a reconstruction of the script. Evans, Gere, and Gregory Hines were invited to Coppola's Napa estate for a week-long brainstorming conference. As Coppola began to familiarize himself with the backdrop of the Cotton Club he became intrigued by the Harlem Renaissance starting in the early 1920s and ending as the Great Depression began. Coppola became enamored of the period and excited about participating on a Jazz Age epic.
With the Doumani brothers getting anxious and threatening to pull their investment, Evans approached Coppola and asked him to direct the picture as well. In June 1983, Coppola agreed to direct the film.
In an interview with David Thomson and Lucy Gray for Film Comment magazine in the fall of 1983, Coppola reflects on the need to be in control of the film. “I made it very clear that if I were to do the film, I would need to really control it on every possible level. And then of course I come here and although I have those rights, the same thing goes on. So finally I've just put them all in their place, for the sake of the picture.”2
When Coppola came on board he immediately encountered preproduction overruns. The club was being rebuilt in the Astoria Studios in Queens, New York. Robert Evans had hired the famed production designer Richard Sylbert. The replica was magnificent but costs were already at $1 million (they would ultimately swell to $6 million). In common, Coppola and Sylbert had both worked with Vittorio Storaro; Sylbert designed Reds for Warren Beatty and Storaro shot it. Sylbert laid out the club with meticulous care. In an author's interview, Sylbert explains the research he did to design the legendary club. “I laid out the club by talking to the men and women who used to dance there and from some pictures that I found.” He had a team of researchers in Los Angeles that gathered an enormous amount of detail. Sylbert explained that he built the whole street: the front of the club, the marquee, and all the shops around the corner and across the other corner on an empty lot he found in Harlem. He describes, “One crew worked to get that done, and then this huge crew was in the studio to build the club. The costumes cost three and a half million dollars, and the sets cost nine million dollars.”3
Once Coppola assessed what he had inherited he knew he had to take the reins. He told Evans the script needed more attention and hired Pulitzer Prize–winning William Kennedy, who had written a trilogy about the Roaring Twenties (Ironweed was based on Kennedy's work). Kennedy was able to bring specificity and authenticity to the script, although, working with Coppola, rewrites continued throughout the shoot. The cast and crew were enormous with some members pre-Coppola and others hired after he was at the helm. Coppola made changes. He hired Michael Smuin as choreographer; he had laid out the rumble scene in Rumble Fish. Coppola brought on many of his regulars, including family members. Nicolas Cage was to act for his uncle. Because Coppola was continuing to utilize the electronic cinema there was a lot of waiting involved on the actors’ parts. Diane Lane, who had worked with Coppola a number of times, speaks of the frustration. “This went on for months. We never knew when we were going to shoot.”4 Nephew Nicolas Cage had a tantrum and trashed his dressing room. Coppola was protective of Nicolas and said he was preparing for one of his scenes as “Mad Dog” Dwyer.
Regulars Laurence Fishburne and Tom Waits were in the cast. Sofia had a small part using the Domino moniker. Gio was a second-unit director and also credited with editorial montage. Marc Coppola (now a venerated disc jockey) had a small role.
The Cotton Club was a showcase for numerous black actors, singers, and dancers of the day—Gregory Hines, Lonette McKee, and Maurice Hines. The story involves the rise, fall, and romances of several of the denizens of the club.
The less-than-savory backers were not pleased with the escalating costs of the production. The scope and ambition of the entire production was simply not manageable. Because Francis had not developed the project initially his displeasure was exacerbated by personnel he had not chosen and with whom he could not work. He fired a lot of individuals and hired replacements. This made for additional turmoil and anxiety on the set. The overall atmosphere was chaotic. By August the production was two months behind schedule. Evans receded to the background while Coppola ran the show, unperturbed by the tumult. Finally, by the end of December 1983, production was complete at a cost of $47 million.
The Cotton Club finally opened at the end of 1984 to mixed reviews. For reasons that are not entirely clear, Orion, the distributor, rather than see how it might fare over time, decided to pull the picture after a scant two weeks. Perhaps they wanted to put all their eggs in the Amadeus basket. At that point the picture was a distinct financial failure. Its gross was a bit shy of $26 million, about half of its budget. It was another failure for Coppola, but not in the same manner as One from the Heart. Robert Evans hired Coppola because he needed him. For this gangster musical with tough-guy backers, Coppola was truly a hired gun. At least he had drawn a salary and didn't lose any of his own money.
When The Cotton Club was completed and released there was considerable bad blood. Producer Evans lost his shirt and put the responsibility squarely on Coppola. In postproduction it was alleged that 11 musical numbers were cut out. It may be true, and it also may have been necessary. There was disagreement about retaining numbers and the length of the finished film, but those decisions lie on the editing-room floor with Coppola and Malkin, his trusted colleague. Evans, let us remember, came crawling to Coppola pleading for a script doctor and then went one step further and asked him to direct the whole project, picking up a work in progress. Still, Evans felt sabotaged. In the Hollywood Interview with Alex Simon, Evans talked of his relationship with Coppola:
Francis is the most charming, seductive man I've ever met. I think he's a direct descendant of Prince Machiavelli. Once you leave his kitchen, you're enamored of him. He's so talented, so brilliant, and a dreamer. And I think self-destructive. We've only spoken once since that time, at the 25th anniversary screening of The Godfather. We all went down to the front of the theater afterwards, to tremendous applause. Francis started to pass me. Then he stopped, put his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “We did something right.” That about sums it up.5
Now midway through the 1980s, Coppola was strictly a director for hire; not only was it difficult for Coppola, it could be truly messy. The Cotton Club was an expensive failure, and Coppola was the director of record, even though he spent much of his tenure undoing and reorganizing the production he inherited when he came onto the project.
Coppola had vowed he would work as a director for hire for as long as it took to be debt free. Although he had been advised to declare bankruptcy, he refused. It wasn't his way. He believed it was his responsibility to work his way out of his financially precarious situation. So when he was offered the job as replacement director on Peggy Sue Got Married he accepted. The film was a Rastar/TriStar production, and Rastar was famed Hollywood stalwart Ray Stark, who was responsible for Funny Girl and many other film hits. Jonathan Demme was the original director but left citing creative differences. Debra Winger had been cast as Peggy Sue, and she wanted Penny Marshall to direct. Marshall had conflicts with the screenwriters. That left Stark and producer Paul R. Gurian looking for another director. Stark remembered Coppola from the late 1960s when they were both involved with Seven Arts; Coppola had been a screenwriter there. Stark asked Francis to direct Peggy Sue. No sooner had Coppola accepted the assignment than Winger developed a back injury and had to withdraw from the picture. Kathleen Turner, who was building a star-studded résumé with Body Heat and Romancing the Stone, was approached and accepted the role specifically for the opportunity to work with Coppola. Turner states, “I really wanted to work with Francis. I was intrigued by the thought that this was a great filmmaker who had never really had a leading lady. His films had basically dealt with men. In fact he said to me, ‘I really don't know how to treat a leading actress. You'll have to tell me.’ I said, well you have a glass of wine ready for her at the end of every day.”6
Turner was completing The Jewel of the Nile, so production was delayed until she was available. Coppola used the time to consider a long-dreamed-of project of his own—a biopic of Preston Tucker, the auto maker, which he still hoped to realize at some time in his professional future. He directed a 3D short intended as a kick-off for a Disneyland/Disneyworld attraction. The short was titled Captain EO and starred Michael Jackson. It was a Michael Eisner conception that George Lucas produced. Lucas asked Coppola to direct, and Coppola was interested in the technical aspects of the project and how the use of electronic cinema might mesh with 3D. The production cost an extraordinary $20 million for a short high-tech specialty product. Also squeezed into Coppola's schedule was a segment for Shelley Duvall's successful Showtime series Fairie Tale Theatre, which retold classic fairy tales. Coppola directed “Rip Van Winkle,” starring Harry Dean Stanton as Rip and Talia Shire as his unforgiving wife. The segment was well received, and Coppola enjoyed working in the medium.
It was not as if Coppola would have been drawn to Peggy Sue if money weren't an issue. The film was an accessible story of a woman, unhappy with her philandering husband and on the verge of divorce, who attends her 25th high school reunion and after fainting has a fantastical time-travel experience that allows her to return to her senior year with the ability to reflect on her life and the decisions she made. It is reminiscent of George Bailey's angel-facilitated flashback in Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life. More current was Steven Spielberg's vehicle Back to the Future (directed by Robert Zemeckis), which was a fun-loving exploration of time travel. The Peggy Sue production actually wanted to put some distance between these two films, worrying they might be perceived as too similar. But the association that resonated most for Coppola was the iconoclastic play Our Town—specifically the scene when the departed Emily reflects on her young life with her mother and George, her husband. It was as if that frame of reference gave the story some gravitas for Coppola. Paul Gurian notes that Coppola did not desire “A Francis Coppola Film” credit for this film. Gurian notes, “I felt this film was a chance for Francis to make a small, intimate film with a simple story and the critics would say, ‘Hey. Francis, it's good, you made a nice simple story. It's not a brilliant Francis Coppola film,’ and frankly it isn't, and anyone who says it is, is crazy.”7
Coppola had his reservations about Peggy Sue, but he needed to push forward whittling away at his enormous fiscal problems. Fred Roos, his trusted colleague and arbiter of good taste, reassured Francis, predicting it would be an audience pleaser.
The most challenging cast member was Nicolas Cage, Coppola's nephew, who would play the male lead opposite Kathleen Turner. Cage was not actually Coppola's choice. Producer Gurian was very anxious that he play the role. Cage refused it several times but ultimately agreed to play Kathleen Turner's husband. Cage was August Coppola's son. His father, Coppola's revered older brother, was dean of creative arts at San Francisco State University. Clearly, Cage had the artistic genes but not the academic. While still in high school, he approached his father and told him that he wanted to act and didn't want to stay in school. August, to his credit, told Cage to get his General Educational Development (GED) certificate and gave him his blessing.
Coppola had directed Cage in a small role in Rumble Fish and a more substantial one in The Cotton Club. Cage liked working with his uncle although The Cotton Club had been a difficult experience. In the Hollywood Interview with Alex Simon, Cage remarks,
I liked working with him. I found him to be very open to some far-out ideas. Peggy Sue I didn't want to do. I actually turned it down originally. He really went through the paces with me on that. TriStar wanted to fire me and he talked them out of it. I was going for something different with that character.’…‘During rehearsal, I came up with this idea to be Pokey from the Gumby show, and create this cartoon character. There were some very tense days on the set.’…‘Kathleen Turner was not happy with the performance. She thought she was going to get the boy from Birdy and instead she got Jerry Lewis on acid!8
Opinions vary as to whether Cage's experiment (especially an inconsistent high-pitched vocal pattern) was a wise choice. He did, however, have some endearing moments, particularly his singing audition He Don't Love You (Like I Love You) in a black nightclub where Peggy Sue is able to see him in a more serious and intense perspective. In a 1996 interview for Playboy Cage thought back to the experience, remembering he was worried about the perception of nepotism if he took the part. “I started acting when I was seventeen, my fellow actors didn't accept me. They said I was there because of Francis Coppola. I felt I had to work twice as hard as the next guy to prove myself’… 9 In 1995 Cage won an Academy Award for his heartbreaking performance in Leaving Las Vegas. He has countless films to his credit and continues to push the envelope in many of his performances. His Elvis obsession is transformative in David Lynch's Wild at Heart. In Ridley Scott's The Matchstick Men he delivers an endearing characterization of an obsessive-compulsive con man with a sensitive, vulnerable interior. Peggy Sue marks the last time Cage and Coppola collaborated, but as is invariably the case, Cage remains a beloved nephew.
Also appearing in the film was Sofia Coppola as Peggy Sue's younger pesky sister. Sofia, with braces, performs adequately under her father's direction but has a weak vocal quality that may be a reflection of her personal reserve. She has many of her father's talents, but she is not flamboyant or extroverted.
The film benefits greatly from the participation of director of photography Jordan Cronenweth, who said working with Coppola was the “highlight of his career.” He observed, “He delegates more than any other director I've worked with. He's a hands-off director.”10 Coppola's faith in Cronenweth's ability was well placed. The look of the film reflects the dream-like experience of the protagonist reverted to her teen years. The colors are saturated and create a heightened reality so appropriate for the time-travel sequences. Coppola delivered the picture on time and under budget. It was a very tight schedule with 18-hour days. Whether he was for hire or on his own, Coppola had standards he would not betray. When he screened the ending he asked for the opportunity to reshoot it, believing it wasn't quite sharp enough and that the actors looked tired. There was consensus that the reshoot improved the picture.
Peggy Sue Got Married was released in the fall of 1986. It closed the New York Film Festival, where it was received positively. It went on to be a box office hit, grossing about $22 million. Of all the films in the 1980s that Coppola directed for hire, it was the only one that ended up in the black.
Francis Coppola's success with Peggy Sue Got Married positioned him to receive an offer to direct an upcoming project for TriStar. They had a property called Gardens of Stone from a 1983 novel by Nicholas Proffitt.
Proffitt's novel focused on the Army's Old Guard unit, which is responsible for soldier burials at Arlington National Cemetery. The novel was largely autobiographical as Proffitt had spent most of his Army tenure with the Old Guard unit. After discharge, Proffitt obtained a journalism degree, was hired by Newsweek magazine, and became the Saigon bureau chief.
Coppola responded well to the idea of a film that dealt with army ritual and the “family” of the Old Guard. It told a personal story of a career army sergeant who had tours of duty in Vietnam as a young soldier and suffers emotionally burying young soldiers who are casualties of that difficult war. When Coppola was offered the film, the screenplay had already been written by a young screenwriter, Ronald (Ron) Bass. The following year Bass would write the screenplay for Rain Man and receive an Academy Award.
Coppola knew that he would need Army cooperation for the film to succeed. It would require the authenticity of the actual location at Arlington National Cemetery and access to Old Guard personnel. Coppola, who had angered the Pentagon during Apocalypse Now, negotiated skillfully and, with some minor alterations to the script which he reworked with Bass, the Army provided a military adviser and access to the cemetery, Fort Myer, the U.S. Army Marching Band, and Old Guard troops.
As was his wont, Coppola employed many crew members and actors who had regularly been part of his filmmaking team. Fred Roos was one of the producers. Roos's contribution to any Francis Coppola venture cannot be overestimated. Roos met Coppola when his sister Talia Shire was being considered for The Godfather. He was a casting director and managed Shire's early career. Roos was a graduate of UCLA in 1956. He acknowledges that seeing the Academy Award–winning 1946 film The Best Years of Our Lives as a young person inspired him to pursue a career in film. In the industry he is known for his uncanny ability at spot-on casting choices. Roos, with a gentle and reassuring demeanor, has been an integral and critical part of the Coppola creative family for decades. He provides the perfect counterpoint to Coppola's extroverted firebrand personality. His presence on the set of Gardens of Stone would be more essential than either of them could possibly know. Another constant in Coppola's professional life was Dean Tavoularis, who was responsible for the production design, as he had been since The Rain People. Coppola asked Cronenweth, who shot Peggy Sue, to be the director of photography. Another key crew member was Richard Beggs, who had been working as sound designer on Coppola's films since Apocalypse Now (for which he won an Academy Award as a member of the illustrious sound team including Walter Murch) and would continue to work with Coppola and Roman and Sofia on their projects. Barry Malkin again served as film editor on the production. Coppola had asked his father Carmine to prepare the score for Gardens of Stone, and he wrote the music for the Old Guard marching band. On the acting side, Coppola cast James Caan in the leading role of Sgt. Clell Hazard. Caan and Coppola had worked together professionally since The Rain People and were classmates at Hofstra, where Caan played football and Coppola directed plays. Also in the cast was Angelica Huston, with whom Coppola had just worked on Captain EO, and Lonette McKee, who appeared in The Cotton Club.
Coppola's eldest son, Gian-Carlo, was slated to be Coppola's right hand. Since he had left high school to pursue a filmmaking career at age 16 (with permission from his parents), Gio had been on the set with Francis at every opportunity. With each production he assumed a little more responsibility. On The Outsiders and Rumble Fish he was credited as associate producer. For The Cotton Club he is credited as second unit director and developed an editorial montage for one of the scenes in the film. He also was second unit director on the Captain EO short. Gio was a serious student with the extraordinary fortune of learning from a master. In the preproduction phase of Gardens of Stone Gio was responsible for videotaping all the rehearsal sessions that Francis invariably conducted to prepare his actors for scene direction. He supervised the electronic cinema staff. Plans were in the offing for Gio to branch out and work with other film-industry professionals. He was set to begin an internship with Spielberg on the television series Amazing Stories, which would feature episodes executed by different directors. This would be a great exposure for Gio, who could observe different work methods of established directors. Gio had also been hired by Penny Marshall for second unit on her next feature, Jumpin’ Jack Flash. Marshall's daughter Tracy Reiner was Gio's close friend, and they had at one point been a couple.
On May 26, Memorial Day, Gian-Carlo Coppola and his friend Griffin O'Neal, son of Ryan O'Neal, decided to go speed boating on the South River near Annapolis. With them was Gio's girlfriend, Jacqueline (Jacqui) de la Fontaine. Gio and Jacqui were in love and in a steady relationship. Gio had met O'Neal on the set of The Escape Artist, one of O'Neal's few substantial roles as an actor. By all accounts Gio was a sensitive, caring young man, and he knew that Griffin had an unstable life and had spent a year in drug rehabilitation. Only days before he had been stopped by Virginia police for speeding and was charged with reckless driving, driving without a license, and carrying a switchblade. O'Neal was scheduled to play a small part in Gardens of Stone, and the production company bailed him out.
Initially, Jacqui went on the boat with the two young men but asked to be taken ashore. Gio and Griffin were on the river with Griffin driving the boat at a speed that would later be described as excessive. He maneuvered between two boats on the water, not aware they were attached by a towline. Griffin realized the towline was connecting the two boats just seconds before the line struck their boat. Griffin was able to duck, but the line struck Gio Coppola with enormous force, knocking him over backwards. When his head hit the deck the contact killed him instantly.
What unfolded from the moment Gio's death became known is a nightmarish story that would be unbearable for any family. The facts of the accident became known. O'Neal lied initially to the investigators, telling them Gio was driving the boat, but there were many eyewitnesses, and he was forced to admit he was the driver. O'Neal was charged with manslaughter but pled to a lesser charge of negligence while driving a speedboat. Ultimately he received probation and was required to perform community service.
In the larger sense O'Neal's role in the boating accident is only factual. It didn't change reality. The Coppola family was painfully altered forever. In an interview with Schumacher, Eleanor Coppola reflects on the effect of Gio's death on Francis Coppola. “I think there is something unique about the relationship of a father to his first child’…“we used to say he was an ‘old soul’. He could sit quietly on the set for hours.’…‘Gio had a healing, observant ‘old soul’ personality—more like mine—that was a soothing complement to Francis's tumultuous Italian personality.”11
In an article about the tragedy in People magazine, Reiner also refers to Gio Coppola as an old soul. “Gio was a very, very old soul. He had a magic about him. He taught me more about life than anyone I've ever met. There's no elaborate story to Gio. He loved art. He painted and wrote and wanted to make films and he could fix just about anything. He was a very formal, classic gentleman.”12
In the expanded version of her personal diary, Eleanor Coppola's entry on May 29, 1986, recounts her feelings after Francis told her of the death of her son:
My mind keeps jumping back to Memorial Day.’…‘The telephone rang. Sofia answered it downstairs and I picked up the extension. We both heard the strange, strangled sound of Francis's voice, as if he were speaking without breathing: “Ellie, we've lost our beloved son. Gio is dead.”’…“Sofia went to the other line and called Roman, then she came in my room in agony. I pulled her into my arms. She sobbed, “I never heard Roman cry before.”13
Francis Coppola knew he would never be complete again. With the death of Gio he lost a part of his body and soul. He chose not to stay home and mourn. He couldn't face being near Gio's room and his belongings. He returned to the set to begin the direction of Gardens of Stone. O'Neal requested a release from his role in the film. It was granted. Coppola wanted no retribution; he couldn't see the point. It wouldn't bring Gio back, and O'Neal was in need of help. Coppola had no need to cause him any harm.
Caan told Michael Kay in an interview on YES network that he was with Coppola at the worst moment of his life—the time after Gio's death. He describes Coppola on the set in deep despair, at times breaking down while moving through his obligations. In retrospect, Coppola says he remembers almost nothing about the making of Gardens of Stone. Caan absorbed the experience as an opportunity to reexamine his own life and choices. He had been battling substance abuse for years. The death prompted him to get his house in order. Roman came to the set every day to be at his father's side. The shoot was painful for all the participants; the atmosphere on the set was subdued. Those who had been members of Coppola's creative family carried the weight of the production. Their support and Coppola's intangible capacity to perform at all under unbearable conditions brought Gardens of Stone to completion. Coppola told Peter Keough in a 1987 interview, “I was in a dream. I just wanted to get through it. Some nice people got me through that, people I worked with before. That's one of the really beautiful things about having a close crew.”14
The film was not received well. Amazingly, critics only did their jobs and examined what they saw on the screen. They remarked that Coppola seemed detached; they couldn't feel his presence as director. Critic Dave Kehr, writing in the Chicago Tribune, was an exception. “It's impossible to watch Gardens of Stone without remembering the tragedy that intervened in Coppola's own life.”…“The film is so distant, perhaps, because it is so close.”15 None of the film analysis mattered to Coppola and his family. When the last scene was covered, the Coppolas left for Paris and some consolation.
The death of Eleanor and Francis Coppola's son defined much of the future for the Coppola family. In an interview for Film Comment in 2008, Coppola observes, “Few people, thank God, go through the experience of losing a child.’…‘It's not an experience you get over.’…‘You don't get over it, you can't get over it, you'll never get over it. I think of it as the loss that keeps on losing; there isn't a day that goes by that you don't say, ‘Gee, what would he be contributing?’ 16
In the months that followed Gio's death, his final year came into sharp focus. Gio had met de la Fontaine when she attended Beverly Hills High School. Jacqui, with her mother, had moved to Los Angeles from New York when her father, a restaurateur, abandoned them when Jacqui was 12. Jacqui and Gio became a couple at the beginning of 1986 and by Memorial Day were developing plans to marry. They were sharing an apartment, and Eleanor perceived that Jacqui was a wonderful influence on Gio. Jacqui had remained on shore when Gio and Griffin went out for the fateful late-afternoon boat ride. After Gio's death it became known that at age 19 Jacqui was pregnant with Gio's child. Eleanor and Francis totally embraced Jacqui. Immediately she became a fully accepted member of the family. Jacqui, with artistic propensities, was especially interested in costume design. It was easy to nurture Jacqui's ambitions; remarkably they aligned exactly with Sofia's abilities and Eleanor's aptitudes.
On January 1, 1987, inaugurating a new year on a life-affirming note, Gian-Carla Coppola, daughter of Jacqui and Gio, was born. At the time of Gio's speed-boating accident Jacqui had been over two months pregnant. The little girl became known as Gia. She was Eleanor and Francis's first grandchild and was showered with love and affection. Eleanor and Francis helped care for Gia and Jacqui and purchased a home for them in the Hollywood Hills.