Bruno Kirby 1949 - 2006

Bruno Kirby was a busy character actor over the last 30 years. For me, if he hadn't made any other movies besides The Godfather, Part II, I still would have been saddened to hear of his passing last week at the young age of 57. As the Young Clemenza in Francis Ford Coppola's brilliant 1974 sequel to The Godfather, Kirby was perfectly cast as the younger version of Richard Castellano's Clemenza from the original film. Having grown-up in a large Italian family (on my mother's side) The Godfather films were like home movies for us and the Clemenza character could have been one of my uncles. The scene where Kirby and Robert De Niro (as the young Vito Corleone) steal a carpet for the Corleone family is one of the film's few truly hysterical moments. Kirby often played scenes for laughs in his films. His roles in films like When Harry Met Sally, City Slickers and Tin Men were all memorable. But his scene-stealing scenes as the Sinatra-loving chauffeur in This Is Spinal Tap, and the D.J. wannabe in Good Morning, Vietnam are righteously funny. Kirby would later spoof the Godfather films along with Marlon Brando in 1990's The Freshman. His few dramatic turns were in TV films and on the Broadway stage, but his work in Donnie Brasco, Sleepers and as the creepy coach in The Basketball Diaries were all testament's to the depths of his abilities. Had he had more years ahead of him as an actor we would have seen so many more memorable characters to come. So his death this past Monday in Los Angeles from complications related to leukemia was a tragic loss and a sad surprise.

Bruno Kirby Movies

Saturday Nights with Mr. T!

Saturday nights were often the busiest night of the week in the video retail business. Customers craving the latest releases crowded the aisles looking for the hottest titles. It was always the same last minute customers who would show up shortly before closing and take their time choosing a movie. I was all for providing quality customer service, but when we realized it was the same people each week who were taking up our time, I had very little patience for them. Of course I couldn't tell these slugs what I was truly feeling about them, but in time we did find the perfect way to deal with these last minute time bandits. Enter Mr. T! Yes, the very same "I pity the fool!" Mr. T of 1980s A-Team fame! In the early days of home video the educational video was a popular new tool for marketing legitimate lessons for the home. But as with all things popular, abuses would soon follow. Our educational video section was full of titles dealing with childbirth, foreign language lessons, cooking videos, computer instruction and auto repair. We had our share of celebrity driven instructional videos including titles like; Playing Bridge with Omar Sharif, Swayze Dancing (with Patrick Swayze), and an all-star fiasco called The Celebrity Guide to Entertaining. The guide consisted of personal testimonies by the likes of Jackie Collins, Merv Griffin, Rod Steiger, Dudley Moore, Henry Winkler, Steven Seagal and many many more on tips for fine entertaining. It was just one of the many videos of the time that falls under the category of "having to be seen to be believed!" But the granddaddy of all celebrity educational or instructional videos has to be Mr. T.'s Be Somebody... or Be Somebody's Fool! Made in 1984 during the height of Mr. T's popularity, this 60 minute feast for the eyes and ears has become something of a cult classic through the years. In what can only be described as truly bizarre, Mr. T (Laurence Tureaud) dressed in his trademark gold chains and Mohawk haircut, teaches kids of all ages about the dangers of drugs, dealing with peer pressure, and being somebody. It is one of the strangest motivational videos ever conceived. New Edition, the vocal group featuring a young Bobby Brown are on hand to supply cheesy musical interludes between each of Mr. T's lessons. One of these lessons is about "Roots!" declares Mr. T. "You can't know where you're going if you don't know where you're from!" Continuing..."My folkses come from Africa! And they was from the Mandinka tribe! And they wore they hair like this," referring to his famous Mohawk. I fully understand where they were going with this, but was Mr. T and his peculiar use of the English language the right messenger for the job?
When pointing out the gold chains around his neck he tells the kids, "And these gold changes I wear, they symbolize the fact that my ancestors, they was brought over here as slaves!" Changes? Did he mean Chains? Wow! Despite countless examples like the one I just mentioned, the highlight of the video are the musical numbers. Songs about love, peer pressure and T's rap-like tribute to his own mother are why we played this little gem from the 80s during the last hour on Saturday nights at the store. Most people stared at the screens in disbelief. Some got the joke and as for the intended targets, the time bandits, well they eventually grew tired of the same songs every week and soon stopped coming in at the last minute. So in the end just like Mr. T's lesson on anger presented in the video, I didn’t let my frustrations towards the time bandits get the best of me. As in the immortal words of Mr. T... "The best way of dealing with ang-uh is to think nice thoughts! That way, you challenge all negative energies into something useful!" I couldn't have said it better myself.

Mr. T Movies

Merry Christmas, Mr. Jiggs!

In 1986 I started working in the video retail business. Our company had three video rental stores and a popular mail-order business. That Christmas, the owner threw a lavish holiday party at a big restaurant in northeast Philadelphia. Paper invitations went out to all the employees featuring an artist's rendition of King Kong on top of the Empire State Building. At first I just figured it was symbolic of the thousands of classic movies we had in our catalogue. But as I and my fellow employees would soon find out, that great ape would make a personal appearance that none of us would ever forget. Following dinner and some short speeches by management, the entertainment for the evening had arrived. As we all sat at round tables digesting our Christmas feast, the doors to the ballroom swung open and in skated a chimpanzee wearing a tuxedo. We all did double-takes as the monkey named, Mr. Jiggs rolled across the floor doing tricks at the request of his trainer. Jiggs danced with a few frightened female employees and drank a can of Pepsi all to the audience's amusement. The monkey seemed old, but was actually only 26 years old. Following his performance, Mr. Jiggs saved his most impressive trick for those of us watching the trainer being paid by the company's owner. With only a nod from his master, Mr. Jiggs -still wearing his roller skates- threw his tux coat over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase full of props and started to climb a set of stairs towards the exit. As we eagerly followed the chimp up the staircase, we watched the frightened customers stare with amazement at the site of the hardworking chimp rolling through the lobby. In the end Mr. Jiggs went to his trainer's car, openened the door, sat in the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt. The trainer got in and drove away with the primate entertainer who I was convinced was actually a midget in a costume. But many years later I was surprised to learn that Mr. Jiggs was in fact a real chimpanzee, only he was a she. Mr. Jiggs came to the United States from Africa in 1965. With her front teeth pulled and an electric shock device under her clothing, she worked shows as an artificial human until her recent retirement. Sadly, Mr. Jiggs had passed away in July of 1995 at the age of 33, about half a chimp’s life expectancy. Jiggs was dropped off at a home for retired performing animals outside Los Angeles by her lifelong trainer and companion, who never came back. The cause of death was undetermined, but a worker for the sanctuary for chimps called it “a broken heart.” Once while watching late-night TV I saw one of those infomercials for a set of Ed Sullivan videos featuring clips from the famed variety program. To my surprise there was Mr. Jiggs and her trainer performing for Ed some of the same routines she had at our Christmas party. There was something nostalgic yet tragic about seeing the young chimp at the beginning of her showbiz career. I wondered if she had any idea where it would all end some 30 years later. Did she really feel a loss for a trainer who had shocked her into submission to make money from her novelty? Or was it the loss of a routine that had been part of her life for so long that she so missed. I supposed we'll never know.