Brando: Songs My Mother Taught Me
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
An honest, revealing self-portrait by the critically acclaimed, fiercely independent actor discusses his early life, career, world travels, social activism, and profiles of friends, lovers, and professional colleagues. 500,000 first printing.
to the floor, I unleashed a punch that sent him sailing across the room and to a hospital with a smashed face. When I was chastised for this by Erwin Piscator, I told him that the man had made sexual advances to me. He replied that hitting people wasn’t the way people in the theater dealt with such matters. At the end of the school year, Piscator took our group to Sayville, Long Island, to reprise several productions in summer stock, including Twelfth Night, in which I played Sebastian. A lot of
good boxer but a mean barroom fighter. I’m not saying I consciously wanted to be like my father—that was the last thing I wanted because I hated him—but I probably absorbed some of his characteristics inadvertently. He was a strong man; I may have believed that being strong meant being worthy, and, in my twenties, I considered myself a pretty decent boxer. During the run of Streetcar, I often persuaded a member of the crew to spar with me between acts. I bought some gloves and we threw a few
winter, when his semihibernating instincts would take over. I carried him out to the barn, made him a nest of some hay and left some food there for him. Every couple of hours I would tiptoe through the snow and peek through a crack in the wall to see him all curled up in a ball. I wanted so much to play with him, but I knew I couldn’t. I had a lump in my throat when I turned away. When spring came and the sap began to run in the trees, Russell had left the security of the barn for whatever
ne’er-do-well brother, and he played a corrupt union leader who was trying to improve my position with the Mafia. He had been told in so many words to set me up for a hit because I was going to testify before the Waterfront Commission about the misdeeds that I was aware of. In the script Steiger was supposed to pull a gun in the taxi, point it at me and say, “Make up your mind before we get to 437 River Street,” which was where I was going to be killed. I told Kazan, “I can’t believe he would
were virgins. The doctors in Rio must have made a lot of money from that movie. My truce with Gillo didn’t last long. Although he raised the pay for the black extras and briefly gave them better food, I discovered after a few days that they were still not being fed the same meals as Europeans working on the picture. We were shooting scenes in a poor black village; the houses had mud floors and stick walls, and the children had distended bellies. It was a good place to shoot because it was what