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

Part II: VicAnalysis

If Vic Morrow hadn’t been decapitated by that helicopter blade back on July 23, 1982, he probably would have died of a broken heart later on.

In his brief lifetime, he was plagued by the incessant heartbreak of being an unappreciated artist. No matter how hard he worked or tried or excelled, he kept encountering delays, roadblocks, and rejections in his career (and in his personal life). He kept running into more unnecessary headaches and complications than he deserved.

Of course, mistreating talent in Hollywood has long been a time-honored tradition. (Now it’s even a spectator sport). The Powers-That-Be have always resorted to petty mind games and destructive gossip to wound their creative inhabitants. It’s what they do. And they do it in ways that really hurt their intended targets.

When real talent runs into the debacle of Show Biz vs Artistry, the outcome is never Show-Art. The hardcore business of Money & Show — not Art — always wins. For creatives, that outcome is never a satisfying, happy one. No matter how talented they are, how hard they work, how much money they make for the networks, studios, or dream factories, they can’t win. In any other profession, their work would “speak for itself”…but not in Hollywood. In that dysfunctional company town, a creative can succeed in every way imaginable but still be considered a failure.

That’s what happened to Vic Morrow.

He was a versatile, talented actor who was wildly popular and highly regarded by fans who faithfully watched “Combat!” every Tuesday night on ABC TV. His vividly realistic yet likable
portrayal of Sergeant Saunders helped make the show a highly-rated hit that ran for five years.

During that time, Morrow put in long hours starring as one of the dramatic leads, along with Rick Jason who played Lieutenant Hanley. But he also worked as director, scriptwriter/script doctor, producer, and advisor on the show. He worked hard. He worked well with cast and crew. He threw his entire body and soul into his work, and it showed.

His talent and input helped make “Combat!” a world-wide success. The American Military honored him with awards and citations for his stirring portrayal of Saunders as The Everyman of WWII. Viewers in the Philippines, Australia, and most notably, Japan, embraced the show with die-hard zeal. In fact, in an interview with TV Guide, Morrow remarked there was only two places he knew of where the show WASN’T a big hit: France and Germany. Even 32 years after his death, reruns of “Combat!” are still being widely watched and enjoyed by second and third generations of viewers.

Sounds like the very definition of “success,” right? But not so fast. This is Hollywood. Remember, 1+1 doesn’t equal 2 in Tinseltown. Morrow soon became the Poster Boy for Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Nasty surprises started creeping into his life:

* Despite its high ratings and huge fan base, “Combat!” was canceled after its fifth season. The network couldn’t wait to add more insult to injury, either. No one told Morrow or anyone else about the end of their steady employment in a timely, courteous fashion. The gray suits just shut down production without giving cast and crew the chance to enjoy a final wrap party. Instead of renewing “Combat!” for another year, ABC-TV replaced it with another WWII drama called “Garrison’s Gorillas.” That show was canceled after only a year on the air.

Vic Morrow never received an Emmy for his superb work on “Combat!” In fact, during the show’s five-year run, it only received 3 Emmy nominations, no wins. The cinematography and performances by Vic Morrow as Sgt. Saunders and Conlan Carter as Doc were honored with nominations. That was it. Now I’m not knocking the talents of winners like E.G. Marshall or James Franciscus…But really? No Emmy win for Vic Morrow?

After his show ended, Morrow didn’t get offers for plum movie roles. True, some parts in more TV shows were extended his way. He did get offers, but not for the challenging roles in quality films that he really wanted and deserved.

Despite his obvious talent at directing — as shown by finished work projects like the 2-part “Combat!” episode “Hills are for Heroes” — Morrow never got a chance from the big studios to direct an important, meaningful movie. The dream factories might have fallen by the wayside, but some remnants of the old studio system remained. Morrow appeared to be one of its casualties. He did accept an offer to direct “A Man Called Sledge,” a popcorn flick with James Garner. Because it wasn’t a huge blockbuster, though, it was unfairly labeled a failure. Another black mark on Morrow’s work record.

But an independent film project Morrow worked on in 1965-66 (while he was still on “Combat!”) might have inadvertently marred his career in ways he couldn’t have imagined at the time. Especially since, I firmly believe, Vic Morrow was a bona fide heterosexual — not gay, not bisexual.

Morrow directed both the stage and film version of “Deathwatch,” a controversial prison drama by Jean Genet. The story involves a power struggle/love triangle that slowly festers then erupts among male inmates in prison. So it’s a real intense, shocking psychodrama with unmistakable homoerotic undertones. In other words, it’s a project guaranteed to generate its own publicity.

Only problem? The homoerotic undertones in homophobic 60’s Hollywood.

In those days, there didn’t have to be any graphic nudity, profanity, or violence for such a project to be objectionable. Even the veiled suggestions of homosexuality back then caused alarm and disgust among certain audiences. And yet, performing such subject matter also meant attention and notoriety for all involved.

And they got it. It sure put Leonard Nimoy on the map, anyway. Nimoy (best known for his later role as Mr. Spock on “Star Trek”) starred as one of the inmates, along with Michael Forrest and Paul Mazursky (an actor from “The Blackboard Jungle” who later became famous for his directing).

What’s really fascinating about “Deathwatch,” though, is its history with Vic Morrow. In 1958 Morrow starred in the American Theatrical premiere of this French play at New York City’s Theatre East. So he was the first actor in this country to play thief Jules LeFranc. That, in itself, was an honor and achievement. It gave him a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to perform in a truly historic production. (I suspect he was so convincing as Jules that audiences forgot about his real-life heterosexuality.) Then Morrow went one step further.

A few years later, he directed this play on the West Coast, giving Leonard Nimoy his role as LeFranc. Then he and his wife Barbara Turner adapted it for the screen. Although early reports dismissed the film as a dismal failure, it was actually well — received at various film festivals — LIKE CANNES! — by discerning, intelligent audiences.

Not only did Morrow and his actors put up some of their own money to make the film, they also raised money from lots of “little investors.” Think about it. Only cost around $25,000 to make. Small cast not getting paid a lot. Small production costs for costumes, sets, makeup, design. No complicated extensive location shoots or special effects needed. Just guys in jail who could act. Here was a small, challenging film that didn’t go over budget and was a big success at film festivals. As www.shockcinemamagazine.com notes, “The end result is a sensational acting exercise that often feels like an experimental, sexually-liberated PLAYHOUSE 90.”

So what was there about “Deathwatch” that inadvertently gave Vic Morrow problems?

In a word: RESEARCH.

Morrow was one those actors who meticulously researched every aspect of his portrayals and projects. In preparation for his role as mobster Dutch Schultz, he extensively interviewed the policeman who helped apprehend Schultz. In preparation for “Survival,” a classic “Combat!” episode, he studied and absorbed all kinds of medical data so he could realistically portray a burn victim. (FYI, Morrow believed that performance greatly contributed to his only Emmy nomination). So Morrow did his homework.

He made it a point to always prepare for his aesthetic pursuits.

“Deathwatch” would be no exception.

No, he wasn’t acting in this film, he was directing other actors. In order to effectively direct his film, however, he needed to understand something about prison hierarchies and homosexuality. He needed to study the behavior of Gays and bisexuals. No doubt he did research. Maybe too much research.

Look at Morrow’s behavior from the perspective of Gays or bisexuals, and you can see why they might think the guy who played Sgt. Saunders on TV was one of them.
Why would a straight man be so interested in directing a play, then a film, about a homoerotic power struggle/love triangle?
His wife recently divorced him, so he’s single and available.
He’s curious and hanging out with them and asking a lot of personal questions about their lifestyle.
He’s really attractive.
He’s not really big, he’s somewhere between 5’7” and 5’ 10” — just the right size.
He’s starring in a “manly” TV show about war, surrounded each week by guys. And he’s working closely with other actors who are Gay or bisexual — like Sal Mineo, Gary Lockwood, Roddy McDowall, Nick Adams, Tab Hunter.
God, he’s cute.

There’s no doubt in my mind that A LOT of men, along with women, hit on Vic Morrow.

The Internet might be saturated with websites that now claim Morrow, along with myriad other celebrities, was bisexual or Gay. I doubt if he was either one. He just happened to successfully direct a play and a film about a Gay Power Struggle. But being involved in such a project could have proven to be highly risky in Hollywood, regardless of his sexual preference.

Just working on a homoerotic film would make a lot of people think he actually was homosexual. His professional interest might have gotten him stigmatized and cost him a lot of work. In Hollywood, the truth still takes a back seat to rumor, gossip, or innuendo. Although acting in “Deathwatch” might have helped Lenard Nimoy’s career, just directing it might have tainted Morrow’s.

And yet, let’s not forget the affair Morrow’s wife Barbara Turner had with director Robert Altman. That betrayal definitely devastated him on all levels, more than any rumor mill in Tinseltown could have dumped on him.

What made this betrayal so painful was the high regard both Morrow and his wife had for him. He worked on “Combat!,” directing Morrow in several memorable episodes, even acting as a kind of mentor for Morrow’s aspirations behind the camera.

More importantly, Altman was a friend of the Morrow family.

Both Vic Morrow and Barbara Turner liked him and trusted him. They shouldn’t have.

Everything I’ve read about Altman indicates that he was a cunning, manipulative womanizer who was capable of great pettiness and misplaced jealousies. The more Morrow showed interest in directing, the more Altman irrationally perceived him as a threat. The more threatening he became, the more Altman saw him as a competitor who had to be taken down. So he got back at the warrior by going after the warrior’s heart: he went after his competitor’s wife.

Altman knew Morrow’s wife was ambitious and restless at home with two little daughters. So his seduction became a matter of just pushing the right buttons about her dissatisfaction. Of course, when Morrow found out about the affair, he no longer wanted to work with Altman. That didn’t help this director’s employment status. To be fair, though, Morrow wasn’t solely responsible for Altman’s reversal of fortune. Altman had experienced several fallings-out with executive producer Selig J. Seligman about the show’s direction. But after he lost his job at “Combat!” Altman blamed Morrow, then retaliated further.

He may not have had a lot of power and influence in Hollywood. To be sure, Robert Altman had made his share of enemies. But he’d also cultivated his share of behind-the-scenes admirers. Just enough to indirectly complicate or stall Morrow’s career. And just enough to get his admirers to continually praise him, and not Vic Morrow, as the genius who deserved better. Not surprisingly, most of his faithful admirers were women — like Morrow’s younger daughter Jennifer Jason Leigh.

Although he’d been the catalyst in her family’s break-up, the actress continued to effusively praise Altman in interviews as a phenomenal talent — and not her own father. Go figure. So far, no one’s been able to completely explain or understand the estrangement Leigh had with Morrow. Even his first wife chose to remain loyal to still-married Altman, and not her husband. Usually when an unfaithful wife wants to salvage her marriage, she severs all ties with her ex-lover in a good faith gesture of loyalty to her husband. In this case, Barbara Turner wanted to keep working on projects with her ex-lover. She couldn’t stay away from Altman. Even her new husband was a friend and associate of Altman’s!

Such emotional disloyalty absolutely shattered Morrow. He never recovered personally or professionally from this tremendous hurt.

If anything, Vic Morrow’s life reveals just how fragile a man’s emotional life can be — and just how important it is to address and nurture his sensitivity. Sgt. Saunders might scoff at the notion, but of course men have emotional needs that are just as deep as those of women.

In various interviews, Morrow spoke of feeling angry and bitter most of his life, and how much analysis and acting had helped him. He also mentioned that after he got out of the Navy, he couldn’t talk to anyone. He didn’t know what was wrong, he just “couldn’t talk to people.”

Could these feelings indicate a resurfacing of childhood abuse or trauma? Or were they delayed stress reactions from possible assaults during his military service?

Someday some biographer is going to delve more deeply into Vic Morrow’s story. His dysfunctional childhood, complex emotional nature, remarkable talent, mental health, possible problems with drugs or alcohol — all these things long hidden will finally come to the surface. But for now, we can only fondly remember a man who was too gifted, too fragile, too stubborn to withstand the unjust scrutiny of Hollywood.