The Contender by William J. Mann

Author:William J. Mann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-08-19T16:00:00+00:00

A Family Man

FALL 1970 / Marlon was being obstinate. The book had sat unopened on his desk for months. Alice kept telling him to read it. But the more she pressed, the more he resisted. The Godfather, by Mario Puzo, had been a fixture on the New York Times bestseller list for more than a year. Alice reminded her boss that the author wanted him to play the lead in a film adaptation. The role might just be Marlon’s ticket back to the top.

But the forty-six-year-old wasn’t looking for any comeback. While Marlon hadn’t turned out a successful film in more than a decade, he despised the idea of making movies more than ever. Bitter and resentful, all the hope and optimism of seven years earlier had drained out of him. He remained steadfast in his refusal to read the book. It was about gangsters, he grumbled to Alice, and he didn’t want to glorify criminals.

Besides, the letter from the author had rubbed him the wrong way. “I think you’re the only actor who can play the part with that quiet force and irony the part requires,” Puzo wrote. “I really think you’d be tremendous. Needless to say I’ve been an admirer of your art.” Marlon had tossed the letter aside. Using flattery and cajolery and talk about his “art” was never the way to win him over.

That fall, it was nearly impossible to get Marlon to do anything. The previous spring and summer had been pretty much the same. Conversations such as the one he was having with Alice about The Godfather usually ended with him suddenly and simply going quiet and, in a sulk, wandering off. No more incognito strolls through Los Angeles. Instead, Marlon prowled around his backyard on Mulholland Drive, his head down, his shoulders hunched, pacing the perimeter of his property like a caged lion. From inside, his staff pressed their faces against the glass to watch him.

In Hollywood, Marlon was a pariah. Director John Boorman had wanted him for his film Deliverance, but Warner Bros. chairman Ted Ashley had balked: “Brando? Oh, God. He doesn’t mean a thing anymore—he’s box office poison.” The total domestic revenues for Marlon’s movies from 1964 to 1967 added up to $9.5 million, which was what Guys and Dolls had racked up all on its own in its first year of release. “I couldn’t get arrested,” Marlon said, looking back on this period.

The lack of work wasn’t what depressed him, of course. What sunk his spirits by the early 1970s was the state of the world, which had come undone since the high of the March on Washington. Just months after that glorious assembly, President Kennedy had been assassinated. Five years later, Martin Luther King Jr. was himself gunned down, and not long afterward, Robert Kennedy, Marlon’s last hope to turn things around, was murdered as well. America, Marlon regretfully concluded, had missed its chance to transform itself. The hate and the fear went far deeper than he had ever imagined.

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