Spare the wallet, spoil the video seems to be the motto for translating pop music to the screen. In order to cast Christie Brinkley in a video of Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl, the producer paid a total of $4,000 to her hairdresser and her makeup man for one day’s work. The hairdresser fell asleep as Christie performed with her long locks tucked under a hat. When the producer insisted that Billy’s favorite gal show her expensive coiffure for the ending shots, her sleepy stylist sprang into action and ran a brush through her hair—at least once. Rick Springfield required somewhat more primping for a video, reportedly budgeted at $80,000, of his just-released Love Somebody. When Rick developed a rather large blemish on his cheek, he walked out on 40-odd crew members to recuperate in the privacy of his home and kept them waiting a week while he recovered. Kenny Rogers pulled a similar move making his This Woman video. Due home at 6 p.m. for dinner on the last day of shooting, he packed up and left before finishing the film. The cost of hiring the crew another day: $27,000.
That’s Show Biz
You probably heard about the successes of Hollywood manager Jay Bernstein and the top stars he’s plugged in past years. Well, Jay has a different view. “I figure I’ve been fired by more than 600 actors!” says he. “In one year I got fired by Lee Majors, Farrah Fawcett, Susan Saint James, Donald Sutherland and Suzanne Somers. What happens is, once I get them where they want to be, the air is rarefied and they become deified, I become nullified.”
The cancellation of CBS’s Cagney & Lacey caused such an outcry from loyal viewers that even network execs heard it. They decided to revive the show, which airs again this month. Few were happier with the news than Sharon Gless, who plays the street-smart blond cop Chris Cagney. But, considering the working conditions, God knows why she felt that way. “One morning last year, we found a dead body in an alley—a stabbing,” reports Sharon about her on-location filming in downtown L.A. “Another time there was fresh blood on a walkway. We have had bottles thrown at us from high windows. The drunks who stay in those hotels—I guess they don’t like the disturbance. Our cinematographer deflected a bottle with his arm once and was injured. It could have killed someone.” So couldn’t they film on some safe Hollywood backlot? “No way,” says Sharon like a genuine trouper. “It’s supposed to be New York. We have to be out there.”
A La Mode
They really like to mix opposites at Manhattan’s Limelight, the former Episcopal church that now serves as a rock ‘n’ roll dance club. Recently 20 or so high-society types, including Mr. and Mrs. Warren Avis of rent-a-car fame and Italian designer Pilar Crespi, gathered in a back room for champagne and a fancy sit-down dinner. Meanwhile, rocker Ozzy Osbourne, famed for biting off a dead bird’s head at a 1981 CBS Records meeting, held court in another room as he drank screwdrivers and wore a matted black wig he borrowed from a female patron’s head. The fancy folks couldn’t resist a peek into Ozzy’s lair after dinner, and he showed them such a good time they spent the rest of the evening with him. Asked about the experience, investment banker William Cavendish raved, “Ozzy’s party was a great New Wave dessert to our elegant dinner.” Oz returned the compliment in his own fashion: “I was thinking of having them for dessert—I’ve heard that blue blood is very tasty.”
When Victoria Principal went to London to promote yet another beauty aid (this time Jhirmack hair-care products), someone asked her, “If you were stranded on a desert island, which beauty aid would you take?” “Harry,” answered Victoria, referring to her beau, plastic surgeon Harry Glassman. She added, “He gives me a beauty that starts inside.” So much for Jack LaLanne.