Vic Morrow: R.I.P., You Restless Creative, You

Part I: VicEnigma

July 23rd marks the 32nd anniversary of Vic Morrow’s fatal accident, and too many questions about his life and death still remain unanswered.

Early that morning in 1982, Vic Morrow, actor best known as Sergeant Saunders in the TV series “Combat!,” died while filming “Twilight Zone: The Movie.” And he died in a truly macabre way.

Death by Decapitation? In this day and age? That’s exactly what happened to him when a helicopter hovering above him and the other child actors malfunctioned, then careened and plummeted. Just thinking about it after all these years still gives me chills.

After all, beheading is at once the most barbaric and fateful demise imaginable. Hanging or drowning or firing squads can kill. But in many cultures, beheading is believed to be the only way to completely eliminate a powerful mythic presence. So prophets, kings, avatars, and shamans usually meet this unearthly and grisly end — not charismatic performers like Vic Morrow.

Even accidental decapitation — as opposed to execution by beheading — carries a lot of strange, spiritual significance…

Oh, if only social media had been alive and well 32 years ago!

Maybe if enough Twitter followers and TMZ addicts and Internet devotees had kept probing, things might have turned out differently.

Maybe then, public interest would have incited a more thorough, unbiased investigation of the accident. Maybe then, director John Landis and others responsible for this tragedy would have gone to jail. As it turned out, Landis and others affiliated with Steven Spielberg’s production company were all acquitted after a lengthy trial. But don’t discount any conspiracy theories you hear about it.

Believe at least some of the conspiracy theories about it because they do carry bits and pieces of the truth.

Usually I dismiss conspiracy chatter I come across as inaccurate tripe or plain old gossip. Not this time.

Not after reading what the late Dick Peabody had written on Combat!fan.com. Peabody, the actor who played Littlejohn on the series and became good friends with Morrow, minced no words in his scathing assessment.

He actually gives an eyewitness account of director John Landis’s uninvited and unexpected appearance at Vic Morrow’s funeral — complete with rambling “eulogy” about how Morrow’s work in the movie had been “the best work he’s ever done” (although Peabody and those closest to Morrow knew he though the film was sh*t.)

It’s a firsthand account readers can trust, not because of Peabody’s friendship with the deceased but because of his own credentials. Besides working as an actor on “Combat!,” Dick Peabody had also worked as a freelance writer, filmmaker, TV news anchor, and radio host. So, with his background in journalism, he was no stranger to accuracy or ethics when it came to reporting.

His take on this cover-up is worth reading, along with any other books about it. They all try to shed light on an obvious manslaughter that was hiding in plain sight, then got swept away. Poor Vic Morrow. Nowadays, he doesn’t even rate a listing in the People section of most almanacs.

Despite the ubiquitous laud heaped on “The Greatest Generation,” the actor who helped create the most memorable homage to them on TV has almost been forgotten, like some pathetic show biz ghost.

Even if you don’t believe in synchrodestiny or otherworldly explanations like that, you’ll have to acknowledge the weird reality of Morrow’s life. How could this talented, intelligent, versatile, and dedicated actor/director bravely endure so many ups and downs in his life, than have to die in such a horrific way, too? And why? That’s what puzzles me the most: how deeply his Karmic lifepath was filled with unnecessary rejection after rejection from the Establishment, or from show-biz-powers-that-be.

No doubt Morrow did have some major wins. He did find work in the highly competitive business of acting. He did star in various movies and TV shows. Then when he starred in “Combat!,” he became the driving creative force behind this popular WWII television drama. During his five-year stint as Sergeant Saunders, he was able to work on that show as actor, director, scriptwriter/script doctor, producer, and advisor.

And yet, he never really received the recognition and acclaim for his genius that he deserved.

Rick Jason, who played Lieutenant Hanley on the show, includes this ironic anecdote in the Forward of Jo Davidsmeyer’s book “Combat! A Viewer’s Companion to the WWII TV Series:

Vic and I were having lunch in the MGM commissary one day toward the end of the fourth year. He was reading a trade paper(the Hollywood Reporter) and chuckling to himself. “What’s funny?” I asked. He handed me the paper and pointed to an article on the first page. “So what,” I said after scanning it. “Kirk Douglas is about to start his thirty-fifth picture after twenty years in films. Good for him.” He smiled at me as if at the village idiot. “Do you realize,” he said, “that by the end of next year we will have completed the equivalent of seventy six motion pictures? And all of them on the same subject? In five years?”

Wow. Even Vic Morrow himself realized that Vic Morrow wasn’t getting all the respect and accolades he should have gotten. Unfortunately, there seemed to be nothing he could do about this endless stream of slights, either. His reaction to this surprising lack of recognition was to work even harder, creatively excel even more. You can actually see it in his work on “Combat!.”

Morrow was able to instill and project genuine biphasic qualities into his character. That is, with Saunders, he could convey two opposing characteristics at the same time.

His sergeant could be inscrutable yet vulnerable, tough yet sensitive, trusting yet skeptical. He could make you believe that Sgt. Chip Saunders was a real person trying to survive WWII, not a paid actor re-enacting scenes on some MGM soundstage. His performances were always real, always believable.

More importantly, he could chew out the soldiers under his command in a way that nobody else could. In a matter of seconds, he could go from relative calm to volcanic verbal assault in a tirade that Jo Davidsmeyer dubbed “a Saunders PPT” (Patented Pep Talk). Then he could ease back just as quickly into relative calm again.

Talk about awesome vocal displays!

Pulling off an emotional outburst like that and making it seem believable isn’t that easy to do. If you don’t believe me, go watch the guys on “12 O’Clock High” try to give believable PPT’s. See what I mean? They can’t do it very well. Their PPT’s always seem contrived and stiff when they do it — or as though they can’t figure out why they’re yelling at their own men. Morrow could.

And he could do it in a way that made you defend HIS position, not feel sorry for the soldiers on the receiving end.

Conlan Carter, the actor who played Doc on the show, offered a brilliant insight about him — one that Jo Davidsmeyer quoted in her viewers companion book:

“Vic was one of the most deep, insightful actors, and as a director he was probably more so, that I even worked with,” says Conlan Carter. “He was incredible. He had an intensity and a kind of underlying volatility I guess is the the best word for it. It was like he was going to explode at any minute and by keeping it contained he was so incredibly interesting to watch…”

It got even more interesting, though, when he exploded, then receded, then hinted he might dangerously emote again. Sometime. But the viewing audience never knew when…They only knew he could. And probably would…

Morrow brought this same intensity to his other portrayals in movies and on TV.

He was the kind of actor who could shift from Shakespeare in The Park to Saturday Night Live without a hitch. He could do comedy, drama, satire. He could play hero, villain, or both. In fact, if he were alive today, he would probably be starring in Quentin Tarentino’s movies. How many actors could go from street punk to avenging cowboy; from Dutch Schultz to Injun Joe; from cowardly soldier to heroic soldier, then to cruel slavedriver? Morrow could and did.

If ever someone was born to play jazz trumpeter Chet Baker in a musical biopic, it was Morrow. Too bad he didn’t live long enough to film it.

Here’s a look back at some of the projects he did realize:

In “The Blackboard Jungle,” he played a juvenile delinquent like a deranged Botticelli angel as he menaced Glenn Ford and the rest of the faculty.

He did a small-screen version of “Rebel Without a Cause” when he guest-starred on “The Millionaire.” Only in this take-off he was juvenile delinquent/auto mechanic/street racer/newlywed Joey Diamond. This time the reformed punk lived to get the girl, the million dollars, and the implausible happy ending.

On “The Untouchables,” he was a gangster in “The Maggie Storm Story” who made unwanted sexual advances to speakeasy owner Patricia Neal. In an historical twist for 60’s TV, though, his advances weren’t just rebuffed, they were physically fought off by Neal. (That episode should have been called “NO MEANS NO!”)

Just try to stifle that gasp of recognition when he channels that all-too-familiar little league manager who smacks his own kid in “ The Bad News Bears.”

He even made a movie with Elvis! ELVIS! Could Marlon Brando say he was in “King Creole?” But, like Brando, Morrow could say he played Stanley Kowalski in a stage production of “A Streetcar Named Desire.” And you can bet his portrayal of Stanley Kowalski was just as explosive as Brando’s was.

That’s what’s so perplexing here.

Marlon Brando, John Cassavetes, Ben Gazzara, Peter Falk, Steve McQueen, Paul Newman — all these guys were the big method actors of the 50’s and 60’s. They were heralded as the future of American acting. They not only received great reviews, they were praised to the hilt for their talents, gutsy performances, AND sex appeal. And yet, none of them had the range or resume that Vic Morrow had. (And I know a lot of women who would argue that Morrow’s sexy magnetism was just as compelling — or more so — than anything those other guys had.)

So why did the Hollywood Establishment and its flunky entourage keep exclusively kissing the butts of these designated actors?

It’s almost as if only the appointed few can enjoy success in acting. No one else stands a chance. Even if some lucky outsiders do manage to get hired, they’ll still have a hard time getting any respect for their work. Never mind that Vic Morrow was the kind of guy all the other guys wanted to be and all the girls wanted to do. He wasn’t on their elite “list,” so he never got the roles or recognition he deserved.

No matter how hard things got for the designated few, they still got more acclaim and applause than Morrow ever did.

Let’s look at another example of this double standard. Marlon Brando studied at the Actors Studio in New York City. Morrow studied acting too, but he did something more difficult than Brando. He not only studied with renowned teacher Paul Mann at his workshop in New York City, he also studied acting at Mexico City College and performed in bi-lingual productions. That’s right, bi-lingual. So he was learning his craft in Spanish as well as English.

Can you imagine the “oohs” and “ahs” that would have been poured on Brando if HE had done something like that? There would be no end to the butt-kissing and declarations of Brando’s genius. But when Morrow did it, the reaction was no big deal. Why the discrepancy?

Usually when a creative keeps getting invalidated like that, he’s either pissed off the wrong people or he’s not kissing up to the right ones. Hard to imagine a guy like Morrow who was born in the Bronx and who dropped out of high school at 17 to join the Navy would turn out to be an ass-kiss, though. So you have to wonder: who did Vic Morrow piss off (besides Jack Lord when they were filming “God’s Little Acre”?)

More importantly, to what extent was Robert Altman involved in the destruction of his creative spirit?

Then again, Morrow’s real problem could have been his stubborn refusal to trust his own psychic hunches. If you had a premonition (like Morrow) that a helicopter was going to cause your death, wouldn’t you try to stay away from helicopters?

NEXT: Part II: VicAnalysis