“Being Paul Newman’s daughter is neat,” admits actress Susan Kendall Newman. Not only did Dad not bat a baby blue when she moved in with a beau several years ago but also the Newman name “gets me in to see people who wouldn’t otherwise give me the time of day.” Now the tall 23-year-old blonde (by Paul’s first wife, Jacqueline Witte) is recovered from a two-year block against acting and is using that name to make her movie debut in Newman’s currently filming Slap Shot, a black comedy about semipro hockey. But Susan has other reasons for going on location with her dad. “I’m very protective of him,” she explains. “I answer his mail and act as his secretary—and I run interference when women try to seduce him.”
Used to be that neighbors would wait until a man entered the White House before refurbishing the requisite log cabin or finding a scheme to cash in on his past. Well, before Jimmy Carter has even been nominated, some good old folks back home in Plains, Ga. have already begun to peddle off commemorative parcels of “good peanut-producing land” near Carter’s own 200 acres. For a mere fin, the buyer gets a 9″x12″ Certificate of Ownership—which happens to be 107 square inches larger than the real estate in the transaction.
You’ve Come a Long Way…
John Wayne, 68, has forsworn tobacco (because of allergies rather than his bout with what he called the “Big C”), but a certain cigarette’s ads left an impression. His mother, reports the Duke, “would’ve been considered a true woman’s libber—but not one of those mouthy types.” Not that Mum picketed or pamphleteered, says Wayne, but “she was one of the first smokers. I can remember as a little kid going into the bathroom, and it always smelled like smoke in there. Sure enough, I looked around on the shelves, and I found Mom’s Omar cigarettes.”
Publish or Perish
His NBC show McCoy has croaked, and Tony Curtis says that if his upcoming The Last Tycoon “is my last movie, I won’t complain.” For at 49, Tony says he is trading the smell of the greasepaint for the roar of the typewriter. Superagent Swifty Lazar recently peddled his first novel, an adventure titled Kid Andrew Cody and Julie Sparrow, to Doubleday. With a possible total take of up to half a million, “I’ve just turned down three films,” Curtis crows. “And for a guy who never turned down anything—not even half a sandwich—I promise you this book is changing my life.”
•”I was staggered when the Queen walked in,” admits London therapist and psychic healer Kay Kiernan, after treating Elizabeth II for a sprained shoulder (with electromagnetic vibes, not her own). And how had Her Majesty, 50, injured the royal wing? By confirming indirectly that her household purse may be a bit tight these days: the Queen had been sawing wood.
•Asked why she left actress mom Joanna Moore’s commune at age 8 to live with dad Ryan, Tatum O’Neal once explained, “I had some bad lives when I lived with my mother.” Now, at 12, Tatum seems to be mending her fences, and even before Mother’s Day put part of her $350,000 take for The Bad News Bears into buying Mom a jeep.
•Producer Samuel Bronston was born in Russia and reached his prime in the ’60s making movies in Spain. “I wouldn’t know how to make a small picture,” he boasted at the time, and his biggies included King of Kings, El Cid, 55 Days in Peking and The Fall of the Roman Empire. Now, at 68 and in the States, Bronston has reached the final reel: he has filed for personal bankruptcy.
•As a 40ish divorcée with two kids and a $9,000-a-year secretarial job, Judith Rossner wasn’t exactly the belle of the Big Apple. But with her smash novel Looking for Mr. Goodbar (worth at least $300,000 to date), haven’t men been coming out of the woodwork? “Oh, no,” laughs Rossner, “before Goodbar they came out of the woodwork. Now, they come out of the fresh air.”