On February 18, 2010 I am flying to Savannah, GA and driving
an hour north to Beaufort, SC for the Beaufort International Film
Festival. Pat Conroy, novelist and
author of The Prince of Tides and The
Great Santini, among many others, will
receive the Excellence in Writing Award and Blythe Danner, the actress who
appeared in both films of those novels, will receive the Excellence in Acting
Award. I have the honor of presenting
Blythe’s award.
Beaufort
was the local for both films and little about the town has changed in the
thirty years that have passed since we made The Great Santini there.
(Oh, did I mention I was in the film and played Blythe’s son and Pat’s
alter ego, “Ben Meecham?” Well, I
did.) Beaufort is a beautiful
town, spared the wrath of the civil war because it became a hospital for Union
soldiers, some of its homes date back to the eighteenth century. The low country has no finer example of
southern charm.
Blythe
has the rare and odd distinction of playing Pat’s mother in Santini and his wife in The Prince of Tides. Draw
your own conclusions.
What
I want to draw your attention to are the bonds that form between actors and
writers when their work succeeds.
I
was in Beaufort last year to see Pat and Santini for the first time since we’d made the film. Pat’s new novel, South of Broad had just come out and he was signing copies at the
Bay St. Trading Co. Book Store.
The night before Santini was
screened on the town green. I sat
through it and in general thought it held up well, though I wasn’t all that
impressed with my performance (another blog might suit to go into how actors
watch themselves and what comes up when they do).
When
I saw Pat the next day we settled easily into being with each other as if we
were cousins fond of each other and eager to spend time together at events
other than funerals.
Our
lives have several points in common.
We are both Irish Catholics, the oldest of seven kids, and the first sons
of imposing, charismatic and arguably dangerous fathers. And we both found a way to transmute
that upbringing into lives as artists.
At that dinner I found the time to tell Pat that without his profound
gifts as a novelist I wouldn’t have had a career as an actor.
At
the awards ceremony in February I’ll be able to say it in public and to convey
similar admiration for Blythe Danner.
In the thirty odd years that have passed since we worked together I can
count the hours I have spent with both of them on one hand. Yet, I am certain that when we see each
other we will ease into an awareness that many years ago we did something that
people still fondly recall.
There
are so many things about show business that are sordid, unappealing and
frankly, weird, that when films succeed those involved know how rare an
occurrence that is. I owe more
than I can say to both Pat and Blythe but come February I will try my best to
make clear my love and admiration for them. If you happen to be in the area stop by. You won’t ever meet two nicer people.
