One Hand Slapping
For once, English director Ken Russell’s artistic excesses were upstaged by his cast on the set of Valentino. First, leading man Rudolf Nureyev asked for some script changes. Ex-Mama (of the Mamas and the Papas) Michelle Phillips objected, which, she admits, “was silly. He slapped my hand. I said, ‘Rudolf, you mustn’t hit me’ and slapped him on the back—not on his face.” After an astonished Russell pried his stars apart, Michelle purred, “Really, it was nothing much.”
Just two years out of office, Arkansas’ J. William Fulbright finds that 29 years in the Senate evidently amount to peanuts with Jimmy Carter’s staff. Though one aide perfunctorily asked his advice, “It was a little vague and I didn’t want to spin my wheels for nothing,” Fulbright comments sadly. “You know, in that entire foreign policy debate on TV, the U.N. was scarcely mentioned.”
The Female Eunuch
Hip feminist Germaine Greer, 37, has announced, “I’ve given up on lovemaking. It’s become a gymnastic exercise—and I’ve never been keen on sports.” What’s ruined her fun are clinical inquiries about female sexuality. “It gets on my nerves when I’m asked, ‘Did you have an orgasm?’ The word depresses me. I am not a cello. I don’t like to be played. I like a little mystery.” What about stories that she was once friendly with the entire Manchester United soccer team? “Yes,” Germaine admits. “I knew seven or eight of them. But did I make love with them all? No, not for the world. In fact, I just chose the most handsome one. I’m an old-fashioned woman—I have wide hips and a narrow mind.”
Out of the Swim
“Hollywood is good only for alcoholics, tennis players and short-distance swimmers,” snaps London-based director Michael (Death Wish) Winner, 41. “Since I don’t drink, can’t play tennis and swim feebly, there’s nothing for me there.” His bad vibes were summed up, Winner continues, by the way producer Ross Hunter reacted after a falling out. “He saw me sitting between two people he liked. So from a distance of 20 yards he managed to smile at both of them while at the same time freezing me. That’s not an inconsiderable feat.”
Thar She Blows!
Junior Samples, 50, Hee Haw’s 275-pound hayseed comedian, ought to stick to fishing in a barrel. Samples and a friend were trolling on Georgia’s Lake Lanier recently when their boat hit a submerged object and pitched them into the icy, 100-foot-deep water. The accident broke Samples’ leg, but when rescuers arrived, he insisted they first pull out his drowning buddy “because if he wasn’t saved, I didn’t want to make it either.” Fortunately, Junior was safely beached, too, and sputtered: “If anybody tells you he can’t drink gallons of water and pray at the same time, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
•Britain’s grand old sex symbol Diana Dors finds that, at 44, she’s amounting to more—much more—than her onetime 37-24-35. “I daren’t measure my front,” she confesses. “I ought to care, but honestly I don’t.” Her only mistake was asking third husband Alan Lake, “Will you still love me when I’m old and fat?” Lake’s deadpan reply: “I do.”
•The latest lapsed radical to sign with a lecture agency is Chicago Eight defendant Bobby Seale. So far, though, no one has jumped at the ex-Black Panther’s asking price on the rubber chicken circuit. It’s $1,000 to $1,750.
•Drummer Keith Moon of the Who lived up to his name at Sergio’s Le Club in Beverly Hills the other night. Informed that his blue jeans were taboo inside, Moon stripped them off, tossed them over his shoulder and marched in. Six feet later he was thrown out on his, ah, ear.
•”You sit down, close your eyes and let your mind go blank,” explained a TM convert to Wayne Rogers at a Hollywood party. “That’s nothing new,” joked Rogers, 42, whose City of Angels self-destructed last spring. “My agent has been doing that for years.”