Few activities can provide more contradictions than writing a book. On the one hand, it must, without question, be a solitary task. Like great musicals, concentration is rare and precious and never to be taken for granted, and it’s difficult to imagine writing taking place outside some kind of author’s shell. Don’t ever pretend, however, that the solitary nature of the writing extends to the job of putting a book together. There, one must always have the advisors and editors and friends and sources of wisdom, knowledge, expertise, criticism, comfort, inspiration, and enthusiasm. Thus it is that this book, like most or all books, was made possible by a number of people, even apart from those artists who are celebrated in its pages.
It goes without saying that this book would never have happened without Turner Classic Movies. That statement could be extended to include not just this book but many people’s love of classic films. TCM has been a joy and a treasure for well over two decades, and it has been my great joy and pleasure to renew an association with TCM that originally began in 2007, when I co-hosted a film series based on my book Screened Out. It must also be mentioned that I, along with everyone else, suffered a huge loss with the death of the network’s public face and host, Robert Osborne. The fact that Bob passed away just as I was finishing this book has made me reflect on how peculiarly the currents of history can operate. More important, it was a reminder of what a masterful host Bob was, what a peerless friend of film, and happily, in my case, what an extraordinary colleague. Thank you, Bob, for all you have meant, and will continue to mean, to all of us. Among many other terrific people at TCM, I would especially like to thank John Malahy, Heather Margolis, Jennifer Dorian, and Genevieve McGillicuddy. Their work, and that of their associates, makes TCM what it is, and made my own work here both viable and enjoyable.
Turner Classic Movies is, of course, a major ongoing source (and shrine) for film, and beyond it I must extend my thanks to all the archives, companies, organizations, and studios who have rescued, cared for, and preserved classic films. Many film preservationists have gone above and beyond the normal parameters to make sure that obscure, sometimes lost, films are saved and made available. To them, and to everyone who helps to fund their endeavors, a special thank-you. Gratitude also to the libraries and archives that have cared for our past and made it available to researchers. And to the websites and blogs that so often now make it possible to do research and investigation without having to venture out too far or too drastically.
Some people, myself emphatically included, may often find that disappointment or disillusionment seem to hover nearby when some aspect of the creative process is not going well. It is my good fortune, then, that most often I can lift myself out of those doldrums by reflecting on those who have enriched my life both professionally and personally. Their wisdom has enhanced my work consistently, their opinions have helped me immensely, and their care and interest have sustained me and my work. There are far too many to name, but I must mention some of those who have helped me in more ways than I can enumerate. In New York: Edward and Mary Maguire, John and Roseann Forde, the Rev. Amy Gregory and Bill Phillips, Joseph Gallagher, Moshe Bloxenheim, Marc Miller, Karen Hartman, Edward Walters, Jeremey Stuart de Frishberg, Jane Klain, Adele Greene, William Grant and Patrick Lacey, Joe McElhaney, Howard Mandelbaum and Photofest, Lou Valentino, Bob Gutowski, Michael Portantiere, and many others. In Connecticut, Lou and Sue Sabini, Chip Reed, and Chris Fray. In Louisiana: my sister, the Rev. Peggy Foreman, and Jared, Luke, Andrew, Nathan, and Zachary Foreman; the Rev. Ned Pitre, Keith Matherne and Spencer Gauthreaux, Keith Caillouet, Darren Guin, and my family, friends, and former classmates. In Texas: Karen Latham Everson, Dr. Melanie Mitchell, and Joe and Katie Mitchell. In Pennsylvania: Beverly and the late Payson Burt and their family, Mike and Vanessa Olsen, Janet Kovacs, David Litofsky, and Janine Lieberman. In Georgia: Christopher Connelly and James Goodwynne, Lee Tsiantis, and Dennis Millay. In New Jersey: among many other good friends and neighbors, Cindy and Hal Robertson, Rosalind and Lawrence Bulk, Amy, Paul, and Eliza Bent, Joann Carney, Beth Haywood, Patrice Nissan Granaldi and her family, Marsha Bancroft, and Pastor Heidi Bak, and my friends and fellow parishioners at Beverly Methodist and at Meals of Love. In the United Kingdom: the Rev. Francesca Rhys, Diane Allen, and Andrew Henderson. In Sweden, Jonas Nordin. In Australia, Paul Brennan. In Brazil, Aureo Chiesse Brandão. And, of course, my sincere appreciation to all my other friends, advisors, colleagues, and confidantes.
Mark A. Vieira is a writer, artist, and film historian of truly remarkable gifts and achievements, and I cannot state enough that this book would not have happened without him. Speaking of indispensable, my deep gratitude to Running Press and the Hachette Book Group for supporting and believing in me. My special thanks, at Running Press, to Josh McDonnell, Kristin Kiser, Seta Zink, and Katie Hubbard. My editor, Cindy De La Hoz has been a bright beacon throughout this project, a constant source of guidance and wisdom and enthusiasm, pointing out directions and giving comfort and advice and leading me to stay on track. I cannot thank you enough, Cindy. Then, finally, my gratitude and love to Jeffrey Smith, whose presence, support, help, and interest make so many things possible and feasible. This book is one of those things, and the list just keeps going and growing.
Again, thanks to all of you, and to all those people who made these films, and these memories, in the first place.