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| From left to right-Max and Max |
The following is an excerpt from my first book, IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER. I devoted an entire chapter to my best friend and brother, Ed Thorpe who left this earth this past November. I re-print this truncated version here on the occasion of his birthday and because I miss him. Plain and simple.
My best friend calls me Max. I, in turn, call him Max. I’m Max. He’s Max. We’re both Max.
Our phone conversations always begin with the same greeting.
“Max-x-x…”
“Max!”
All correspondence, electronic or print, is addressed to Max. Any gifts we exchange have the same gift card.
“To: Max
From: Max”
We don’t find this confusing in the least. In fact, if we called each other by our real names, we’d be mighty suspicious, as in “Who died?” It been over twenty-five years that I’ve been Scott and he’s been Ed, specifically since the release of ANNIE HALL back in 1977.
In that film, Tony Roberts addresses Woody Allen as Max even though his character’s name is Alvy.
“Why do you keep calling me Max?” Alvy asks his friend.
“You look like a Max,” he replies.
Right back at him, Alvy calls his pal Max also, knowing full well that Tony Roberts’ name in the film is Rob.
Back when the two actors were performing PLAY IT AGAIN, SAM on Broadway, they adopted the mutual persona of Max when they would go out in public. Apparently, they thought they could move about New York City anonymously if they led anyone to believe that they weren’t who they appeared to be.
“Why, that looks just like Woody Allen. But, it couldn’t be. His friend keeps calling him Max.”
How effective was this ploy is anybody’s guess, not to mention how serious Allen and Roberts might have been about the whole matter. Was anybody really fooled by their little charade? And, seriously, back in 1969, who in the hell knew Tony Roberts?
Whatever their dubious rationale, we stole this little quirk and theirs and made it our own. It’s not that we had allusions to be the West Coast edition of Allen and Roberts. However, we felt it was a tribute to a great movie and to each other-the very best of friends.
I’ve known Ed Thorpe since 1967, nearly ¾ of my life. That’s the longest single relationship I’ve ever had with anybody outside of my immediate family. Through almost four decades we’ve hit highs, lows and everything in between. We’ve shared laughter, tears, bottles, joints, the stage, writing credits and, even at one point, the same girl. We acted out our own version of JULES AND JIM, only instead of Francois Trauffaut, ours would have been directed by Jack Smight. Eventually, he won the girl, which resulted in their eminent marriage. After I drifted away for a while, I soon returned to the fold and we resumed our friendship. Eventually, their marriage ended but the friendship continued.
One of the constants we can always depend upon is our mutual love of film. In Max, I have a true peer, someone whose knowledge is as extensive as my very own and whose opinion I value over all others. There is nobody I would rather have that post-movie discussion with than Max when we can sit down and critique, analyze or, sometimes tear a new asshole out of any movie we had just finished viewing. For another, he “gets the references”, another quote from ANNIE HALL that is pretty self-explanatory. Since we speak in that Secret Language of Friends, our conversations are peppered with quotes from movies and TV shows both popular and esoteric as well as recalling the people, places and things we’ve experienced in the time we’ve passed together. Often nobody can keep up with us once we get started nor can they break our code. Of course, we make each other laugh harder than anyone else we’ve ever known, which, admittedly, can be over the most childish and gloriously immature thing possible. Can you say monkeys and fart jokes?
In our late teens, we challenged one another to a movie trivia contest, which lasted almost five excruciating hours. It would have ended earlier had we set our alarm properly, which, for his sake would have been merciful since I totally decimated him. We played some kind of honor system trivia where we’d ask each other questions. Every correct answer scored a point and every wrong answer was a point for whoever asked the question. I played the Hitchcock card and beat him into bloody submission with a series of questions he had hope of surviving. This is how a geek talks trash. Hey, I had to win something from this guy, for crying out loud. The sonuvabitch stole my girlfriend! Wait a second. It just occurred to me that the trivia contest came first. Oops. That certainly explains a few things.
Over the years, our mutual admiration society produced something more than just good times and some actual collaborations, including a comedy melodramatic play (LA RUE’S RETURN or HOW’S A BAYOU?), a screenplay (CITIZEN PLAIN) and our very own cable access TV program entitled TWEAK! The show was a twisted version of ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT with me as me hosting as kind of an extension of my SIGHTS AND SOUNDS radio format. Though we produced only a few, we finally hit our stride on the last episode, filmed partially at the location of COOL HAND LUKE, the best movie ever shot in Stockton on a list that includes John Huston’s FAT CITY and Robert Rossen’s ALL THE KING’S MEN. Now known as Dentoni Park, the work farm in LUKE had sat on that very spot we were shooting and that connection to a classic somehow made TWEAK! truly work for the first time, which, unfortunately, had also been the last. Ironically enough, Dentoni Park was only a couple of blocks from where my wife lived before we got together and she didn’t even realize she had been that close to Paul Newman, even though it was years before she lived there. Okay fine. It’s important to me. Move along here.
Max and I always had a dream project that will probably never see the light of Day. The Hollywood Max Museum. Inside would be tributes to such famous Maxs as Max Von Sydow, Erich Von Stroheim as Max in SUNSET BOULEVARD, Max Schreck, Willem Dafoe as Max Schreck in SHADOW OF THE VAMPIRE, MAD MAX, Zero Mostel as Max Bialystock in THE PRODUCERS, the list is endless. Naturally, there would have to be a statue of Woody Allen and Tony Roberts, the initial inspirations for our namesakes.
But, greeting the visitors to the museum and performing shtick in a cheesy tuxedo would have to be my very best friend in all the world, Max. He is my partner, my collaborator, my brother. He keeps me grounded when things seem to be spinning out of control. He’s always there to listen. He’s always there to give his opinion. He’s always there to make me laugh. He’s always there. When that day inevitably comes when he’s gone, he’s still going to be there. That’s the kinda guy he is. And standing next to him at the entrance of the Hollywood Max Museum, wearing an equally cheesy tux will be his
best friend Max and that would be me.
You can’t split us up. We come as a set.
Copyright 2004 by Scott Cherney
That was then. This is now. There's a void in my life since Max left this world, but it's filled with the memories we had and the impact he had on me that I feel each and every day.
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| Happy birthday, Max. Love ya. Miss ya. |
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