Starring: |
Ronald Reagan, Walter Slezak, Diana Lynn, Peggy (as Bonzo) |
Directed by: |
Fred de Cordova |
Viewed by President Reagan: |
June 22, 1984 |
The Film That Helped Define a Career
On June 22, 1984, the military aide to the president boarded the presidential helicopter, Marine One, en route to Camp David, with two precious possessions: one was the “football” containing the codes the president would need to launch a nuclear strike. The other was a brown paper bag. When asked about its contents, the aide replied curtly that it was a “personal item” for the president. He did not elaborate further, which only added to the mystery.I
The mystery was cleared up a few hours later, when the gang gathered at Aspen for the Friday night movie. Before anyone sat down, President Reagan said that he had been disappointed in the level of entertainment at Camp David. Tonight, he explained, he had brought his own selection. The face of the Camp David commander, whose most important mission was to keep the president happy while there, fell. No one wanted to disappoint a kind man like Reagan.
But then Reagan’s eyes twinkled, and everyone knew he had something special in store.
By the time the group got to Camp David that weekend, everyone in the entourage was ready for a rest, except the president. He did not seem tired or worn out by what had been a busy time, even by White House reelection-mode standards.
At the beginning of the week, he and Mrs. Reagan hosted a state dinner for the president of Sri Lanka. A number of Hollywood legends were on the guest list, including Fred MacMurray, Robert Conrad, Rich Little, Tony Randall, Jane Powell, and Frank Sinatra, one of Mrs. Reagan’s favorites, who provided the entertainment that evening.
Even though state dinners made for a long day, I liked working them. The First Lady’s Press Office was in charge of coverage, but I was on hand to monitor what the president said to reporters. Around six thirty or so, I would close the door of my office, pull together the flimsy curtains on my window facing Pennsylvania Avenue—so as to spare tourists a horrifying (or thrilling) experience—and change into my tuxedo. I would then proceed to the North Portico of the White House to witness the president and Mrs. Reagan greeting the visiting world leader and spouse. Rarely, pretty much never, did anyone in the assembled press corps there shout a question at the president, but I was present just in case. We then moved inside to watch the Reagans pose with their guests at the foot of the grand staircase in the White House’s main foyer, and then the press and working staff departed until it was time for toasts, mingling, entertainment, and dancing. During the state dinner itself, the staff in attendance would eat in the White House Staff Mess, usually with our counterparts on the staff of the visiting dignitary. At an appointed hour, we would escort the press pool to the State Dining Room, where they would cover the president and his guest exchanging toasts. Sometimes the toasts occurred at the beginning of the dinner so as to make news deadlines, but not always.
Whenever the dinner ended, the Reagans and their guests had coffee and liqueurs in the Red, Blue, and Green Rooms while the East Room was being set up for entertainment. It was a long-standing custom that a small group of reporters from the wire services, newspapers, and magazines mingled with the guests. Theoretically, the reporters were there only to observe and listen, but it rarely worked out that way.
My usual practice was to go into the White House usher’s office, a few paces from the Blue Room, call the press duty officer just before the reporters were to arrive, and ask if there was anything the president needed to be aware of in advance. If there was, I would pull him aside and brief him. As soon as they arrived on the State Floor, the reporters rushed over to the president, who was always in the Blue Room. Sometimes they just hovered nearby to hear what he was saying. I always tapped him on the shoulder, raised my eyebrows, and gestured to the reporters nearby so that he would know he was being overheard. Many times they ignored the “rules” and approached him with questions.
After a few minutes of this mini press conference, I would say in a loud voice, “Mr. President, I believe some of your guests are waiting to chat with you.” He understood and pivoted to a waiting guest, at which point the reporters would scowl at me and move toward the East Room to cover the evening’s entertainment. But if the president had “made news” during this encounter, they would be escorted back to the Press Briefing Room to file their stories and then be brought back up to the East Room. Likewise, if he had said something newsworthy, I would again retreat to the usher’s office to call the press duty officer to tell him or her what the president had said.
After the evening’s entertainment, everyone moved to the Cross Hall on the State Floor, including the pool of reporters. Usually the Reagans would escort their guests to the front door of the White House, bid farewell, and come back in for a dance or two. (Occasionally, but not too often, the visiting leader and spouse would dance before leaving, too.) The reporters present rarely approached the president. After their dances, the Reagans would very leisurely walk toward the elevator that would take them to the residence, talking with guests and posing for photos on the way. The second they were in the elevator on their way upstairs, I headed home.
The visit of the Sri Lankan president was only one part of what had been a busy week in the Reagan White House. The president spoke at dedication ceremonies for the new building of the National Geographic Society, at a presentation ceremony for a large group of recent high school graduates recognized as Presidential Scholars, and at bill signings designating wilderness areas. He also traveled to River Dell High School in Oradell, New Jersey, where he spoke about efforts to curb drunk driving. Giving a heartfelt and strong speech, Reagan departed from his prepared text, something he rarely did. Here’s part of what he said:
I’m going to depart from the main theme here to tell you that Nancy and I discussed what I would be saying here. And we want you to know that we’re aware that the problem we have on our highways isn’t just drinking and driving. It’s also drinking and drugging . . . I speak as one who has lived seventy-three years . . . I’ve seen a lot. I lived a good part of my adult life in Hollywood and Los Angeles. And I saw a lot of people who were living fast lives. And I just want to tell you: don’t take drugs. Don’t abuse your mind and body that way.II
Later that day, the president traveled to Connecticut to address the National Sheriffs’ Association. As he did often, Reagan used his Hollywood experience to establish a bond with his audience, telling the sheriffs, “Back in those days when I was doing television, I once played a sheriff, a western sheriff, in a TV drama. And the gist of the story was that the sheriff thought he could do the job without a gun. It was a thirty-minute show. I was dead in twenty-seven minutes.” The audience roared.
The day’s schedule did not end there. That evening, he and Mrs. Reagan hosted a Congressional Fish Fry on the South Lawn of the White House, which featured the legendary southern rocker and country singer Charlie Daniels as the evening’s entertainment.
Even though the president had disagreements, some quite sharp, with many members of Congress, he and Mrs. Reagan enjoyed hosting these events. The Reagans did not view such events as chores and never rushed to get through them. They knew that the social relationships built at such events could come in handy in business situations down the road. They did a lot of that with state legislators when Ronald Reagan was governor of California. Similarly, they liked to get to know members of Congress, from both sides of the aisle, as people and never let politics get in the way of friendship.
I think it surprised (and maybe even annoyed) some people on the White House staff that the Reagans were friendly with two Democrats from Massachusetts: especially Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill and his wife, as well as Senator Edward Kennedy and his wife. There were those who simply could not get beyond a person’s politics and could not see any redeeming values in anyone who was not on the same side of an issue. Not Ronald Reagan. He meant it when he said politics ended at six o’clock. Political beliefs were not a factor in whether the Reagans liked or socialized with someone.
Despite such a rigorous schedule, Ronald Reagan was not tired when he arrived at Camp David for what was an unusual weekend in late June. Mrs. Reagan was not there. She was probably on a trip related to her campaign against drug abuse. I suspect that because he did not want to be lonely, the president invited guests who were close to him and Nancy: specifically, longtime close aide and Deputy White House Chief of Staff Mike Deaver and his wife and family, and longtime friend and colleague Senator Paul Laxalt of Nevada and his wife. This was a rare occurrence. The Reagans almost never had guests at Camp David. Sometimes they had family members there with them, and White House chiefs of staff James A. Baker III and Ken Duberstein occasionally came with their families. That was very much the exception rather than the rule. Most of the time it was just the Reagans and a very small group of staff in attendance.
Since the Aspen Movie Club convened at Camp David, we’d been bugging the president to screen one of his own films. He’d finally given in.
“Well, tonight we have a treat, or what I hope you will think is a treat,” he said, “and that’s one of my old movies. Now, I would like to remind you that you are the ones who’ve requested these, so here we go. Roll ’em.” The president had picked one of the best-known of his films: the one his political opponents liked to make fun of, Bedtime for Bonzo. Bonzo, of course, was a chimpanzee. Incredibly, this was the first time that Reagan had ever watched the 1951 film in its entirety.
It was a typical comedy of the era: light, appropriate for all ages, with many genuinely funny scenes. Contrary to popular impression, Bedtime for Bonzo got great reviews at the time, and some said it may have helped revive Reagan’s popularity, which had been on the wane. Like all good comedy, the movie was based on a solid, believable foundation. Briefly, Bonzo was an experimental animal at a university where Reagan was a professor. His character, Peter Boyd, and a colleague embarked on the kind of experiment conducted at universities—Duke among them, I believe—to see what would happen if they raised Bonzo the chimp in a home like a child, to see what level of environment could enhance his ability to learn. Amanda Deaver, whose fourteenth birthday was celebrated at Camp David that weekend and was in Aspen when the movie was shown, remembers that President Reagan was “very spirited and animated,” talking about what he called “that crazy chimpanzee.” She told me he was “filled with joy” as he shared stories about making that movie.III
Admittedly, the movie was not deep or particularly thought provoking. But in rewatching it years later, I did notice something interesting. In a scene where Reagan was mad at a misbehaving Bonzo, he threatened the chimp by saying, “I will tan your hide.” That struck me because the phrase Ronald Reagan used most often when angry with reporters who wrote negatively about Nancy (one of the few things that infuriated him) was “Damn their hides.” And even that was infrequent.
President Reagan’s alleged use of strong language was a key factor in one of the more sensational reports about his and Mrs. Reagan’s personal life. One weekend in December 1986, I was called at Camp David by the on-duty White House spokesman about a story claiming that Mrs. Reagan had been pressing her husband to replace White House Chief of Staff Donald Regan so relentlessly that the president finally snapped at her to “get off my goddamned back.” I promptly called Mrs. Reagan and told her that there was a report circulating that the president had spoken “sharply” to her about Don Regan. She asked what I meant. I stammered a bit, saying the words were not so nice. She insisted that I tell her exactly, word for word, what was being reported, so I did. The First Lady said to me, “Ronnie would never talk to me that way.” With that, I simply relayed that the report was to be flatly denied. I am sure she was telling the truth, as I never knew Ronald Reagan to ever curse at his wife. But I had a feeling from her tone that there had been a “vigorous” discussion about Don Regan’s future.
Despite threatening on-screen to “tan his hide,” Reagan had remained a good sport about Bonzo and the film they shared throughout his political career. He was once asked to sign a picture of himself with the chimp, and he did so, adding: “I’m the one wearing the watch.” On another occasion, he told a group of business leaders, “I have to confess that I am amazed that a Hollywood actor who costarred with a monkey could ever make it in politics.” From time to time, he also would mention the movie in speeches. At a campaign rally in Atlanta in 1984, he said to the applauding and enthusiastic crowd, “If you had done this a few years ago when I was making Bedtime for Bonzo, I’d still be there”—meaning Hollywood. And at another political rally in 1986 in North Carolina, he told the crowd to vote for the GOP opponent of Democrat Terry Sanford, quipping, “Believe me, when it comes to reruns, Bedtime for Bonzo is better than tax time with Terry.” When President Reagan heard that a senior Soviet official had dismissed him as a “reckless cowboy” actor, he pointed out that he played in only a couple of Westerns and that maybe he should send the official a print of Bedtime for Bonzo—presumably to show the range of his acting skills!
Reagan would often say that while Bedtime for Bonzo was perhaps the most fun movie he ever made, he did sometimes wonder if he should have heeded the advice of a director who once warned him never to share the stage with animals or children. Also, though he did make self-deprecating remarks about his involvement in the film, it annoyed him when critics pointed to it as an example of silliness; specifically, his starring opposite a chimpanzee. He did not see it that way. In Where’s the Rest of Me?, Reagan recalled the movie:
Universal [Pictures Company], where I was supposed to realize my action ambitions, came up with another comedy. Diana Lynn, Walter Slezak, and I fought a losing battle against a scene-stealer with a built-in edge: he was a chimpanzee, and he even had us rooting for him. The picture was called Bedtime for Bonzo, and he was Bonzo . . . On the set, he learned our business so well that going to work was a fascinating experience. Naturally, his trainer was on the set, and the normal procedure called for the director, Fred De Cordova, to tell the trainer what he wanted from Bonzo. But time after time, Freddie, like the rest of us, was so captivated that he’d forget and start to direct Bonzo as he did the human cast members. He’d say, “No, Bonzo, in this scene you should—” Then he’d hit his head and cry, “What the hell am I doing?” [Interestingly enough, while Bonzo was portrayed as a male in the film, the chimpanzee that played him was a female named Peggy.]
Despite attempts to belittle Reagan because of the movie, he was not embarrassed by it. In August 1982 his costar in the film, Walter Slezak sent him a letter. Chatty and respectful, the Austrian-born actor recalled their work together on the movie; told the president that he collected literary, musical, and political manuscripts; and asked for a signed photo. In a reply hand signed “Ron,” the president volunteered to Slezak that “when I see some of what is coming out of the industry today, Bonzo is looking better and better!” and inscribed a photo referring to the memories of their work together as “fresh and warm.”
That was not the only time Ronald Reagan wrote in support of Bedtime for Bonzo. In a letter to my mother, he again made the case for watching it. I had been home to suburban Cleveland in January 1985. My parents and I had hoped to see a movie while I was there, but everything they suggested I had already seen at Camp David with the Reagans. That prompted my mother to write a note to the president in which she complained good-naturedly, “When Mark was recently home, we tried to find a movie to take him to, but no luck; he had seen them all with you!” The president felt bad and wrote back to her, “I’m sorry about the movies; we’ll try to run some ‘Golden Oldies’ instead of the current crop so Mark can see one now and then with you. To tell you the truth, I’d like an excuse to do that because I’m partial to the ones we used to make. I got carried away one weekend and made them look at Bedtime for Bonzo.”
Though not originally Republicans, my parents adored Ronald Reagan. My working for him was what drew them to him, but that was by no means the only reason. They supported and respected what he accomplished as president, and were struck by how kind and gracious he was to them every time they saw him. I remember that one time my mother thanked him for “taking care” of me, and he looked at her, smiled, winked, and said, “I think Mark thinks he is taking care of me!”
My mom and dad seemed amazed that their son had a relationship with a president of the United States and that the president was so unpretentious and welcoming. It was particularly exciting for my father, a World War II veteran, who could not quite believe he had talked with a commander in chief. My parents were also quite fond of Mrs. Reagan. My mother was bothered by news reports that were critical of the First Lady, and frequently reminded me to be kind to her. “It’s not easy being a mother,” she would say.
My parents and siblings came to Washington several times during the years I was in the White House. Each time, the president received them. If she was in town, Mrs. Reagan did too. And my parents saw the president whenever we traveled to Cleveland. On his final trip there as president, he gave them a shout-out from the presidential podium at the beginning of his speech before the prestigious City Club, saying, “A special hello to Clevelanders Herb and Judy Weinberg, who are the parents of my assistant press secretary, Mark Weinberg.” They beamed for weeks.
My parents visited me several times during the two years I lived in Los Angeles and served as director of public affairs in former President Reagan’s office there. On one trip, I arranged for them to come to the office and visit with him. He greeted them warmly and, after we took some pictures, invited them to sit on the couch for a chat. I hovered nearby. The conversation was pleasant, touching on a range of topics: raising kids, World War II, life in Southern California, movies, favorite desserts.
The next day, Mrs. Reagan called me about something and began the conversation by saying “When Ronnie came home yesterday, all he could talk about was how nice your parents were.” I said, “Thanks, but it sounds like he was surprised.” Mrs. Reagan laughed but did not dispute my point.
Not everyone in the president’s inner circle was a fan of Bedtime for Bonzo. Stu Spencer, the legendary and blunt Republican strategist who’d managed Reagan’s 1966 campaign for governor of California and the 1980 presidential campaign, was one of the few people who would tell his boss that he did not like one of his movies. Spencer told the president he did not think Bonzo was a very good movie.
The president launched into a lengthy defense of Bedtime for Bonzo, but Spencer would not be swayed, telling him, “Ever since I have known you, you’ve been bitching about playing second fiddle to Errol Flynn, and in this movie, you play second fiddle to a chimpanzee. How in the world can that be a good movie?”
At the end of the movie, the small group applauded and the president bowed. There was then a long talk about virtually every aspect of the movie. Reagan’s memory of script issues, special effects, stunts, makeup, and even bloopers, was amazing.
According to the president, Bonzo could be a pain. Sometimes the chimp would disrupt the action by deciding to climb to the top of the studio. No amount of calling or cajoling could get the chimp to come down. Out of options, the president said, all of the lights were turned off, leaving the studio pitch black. Then someone would make a surprised grunt or yell as Bonzo, who was afraid of the dark, would follow the voice and land on the human he knew.
What an evening! Perhaps Terry Dake, the pilot of the presidential helicopter, Marine One (who would go on to become a four-star General and Assistant Commandant of the US Marine Corps), said it best: “It was a study in contrasts to see a youthful Ronald Reagan on the screen going through antics with a chimpanzee and a dignified President Reagan sitting on the couch, watching and laughing.”IV
I. Email to author from Marine One pilot Terrence R. Dake, June 5, 2015.
II. Ronald Reagan, “Remarks at River Dell High School in Oradell, New Jersey, June 20, 1984,” American Presidency Project, www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/?pid=40073.
III. Amanda Deaver email to author, May 31, 2016.
IV. Terry Dake email to author, June 5, 2015.