Brother Daryl:
“Texas has always loved Bonnie. I think they made fun of Jane Mansfield. She embarrassed them. But my sister they absolutely adore.”
Trish:
“Of course, she said she would never come back to Hollywood. You should have seen the scripts they sent her agent. Every now and then Jill and I would pick up a bundle of them in Paris and bring them back to Saint Esprit. They were those all-star disaster pictures, or the big Arthur Hailey Airport-style movies. They would have made her look like a fool.”
Daryl:
“Hollywood never really knew how to use Bonnie. They were afraid of her—how shall we say?—her feminine charms. She just looked like a big doll in those pictures.”
Joe Klein, Houston reporter:
“If it hadn’t been for Susan Jeremiah, Bonnie would never never have gone to Cannes. Of course, young filmmakers were always after Bonnie to finance something, but here was a woman, and a woman from Houston, Texas, too, and the film was like the old Nouvelle Vague pictures that Bonnie had loved. No script, no plot. No lights even. And a hand-held camera. A thousand kids have tried it, but Susan Jeremiah knew what she was doing. Always did.”
Director Susan Jeremiah, from an interview at Cannes:
“When I came to see Bonnie on Saint Esprit, I fully expected to get thrown off the island within the hour. We’d filmed half of Final Score on Mykonos, and now we were fiat broke and nobody would give us a dime. Of course, I’d seen Bonnie’s French films. I knew she was an artist. I hoped she would understand what we were trying to do.”
Cinematographer Barry Flint, Cannes interview:
“Well, for five days we were her guests, just eating and drinking anything we wanted. Swimming in the sea, swimming in her pool. And this gorgeous Texas woman, just sitting there in her lounger, drinking one beer after another and reading her book and telling everybody to do what they wanted to do. The crew was delirious. Then Bonnie agreed to put up the money to let us finish the picture right there. ‘Half our color film is ruined, got ruined by the heat on Mykonos,’ I told her. ‘Well, here’s some money,’ she said. ‘Go get some more film and this time keep it on ice.’”
Those who saw Final Score at Cannes say the scenes with Bonnie’s fourteen-year-old daughter, Belinda, rival any explicit role ever played by her mother. For twenty-four hours at least Susan Jeremiah and Belinda were the talk of Cannes.
Houston producer Barry Fields
(who is no longer associated with Susan Jeremiah or the film): “Well, first of all, we didn’t know Belinda was fourteen when we shot that picture. She was just there and she was absolutely stunning and Susan wanted to use her. But anyone who calls it kiddie porn just hasn’t seen that film. We got a standing ovation at Cannes.”
Final Score to date has not been released in America—and may never be released.
United Theatricals executive Joe Holtzer:
“The legend of that film has really grown completely out of proportion. Calling it Susan Jeremiah’s master’s thesis might be more realistic. I think we can expect bigger and better things from Susan, certainly things that are more suitable for the American market as time goes on. Susan is presently doing some very good work for us in movies for television.
Bonnie in Beverly Hills:
“I just want Belinda to have a normal childhood, to go to school, to be protected from the bright lights and the frenzy of Hollywood. There is plenty of time for her to be an actress if that is really what she wants to be.”
United Theatricals executive Joe Holtzer:
“The big news was the rediscovery of Bonnie. When word shot through the festival that Bonnie was at the Carlton, it was Bonnie they all wanted to see.”
Bonnie in Beverly Hills:
“Of course, I wasn’t expecting it. I’d met Marty Moreschi once before. He’d come to Saint Esprit to try to get me to do a cameo in an American picture. But I hadn’t even heard of ‘Champagne Flight.’ He told me many of the big film stars were doing the nighttime soaps, as he called them. Joan Collins was world-famous as Alexis on ‘Dynasty.’ Jane Wyman was doing ‘Falcon Crest.’ Lana Turner, Mel Ferrer, Rock Hudson, Ali MacGraw—they were all back in business.”
Marty Moreschi: (“tall, dark, hard-bitten but handsome with a heavy New York street accent”):
“I called the studio, and I said, No way are you going to force Bonnie to do a screen test. Don’t tell me anything. I am telling you! Bonnie is Bonnie. And she is on for ‘Champagne Flight.’ As soon as they had a glimpse of her getting off the plane at LAX, they knew just what I was talking about.”
Director Leonardo Gallo:
“All the reports about booze, pills, it is absolutely the sad truth. Why deny it? Great actresses are often difficult, and Bonnie was touched with greatness. So she must have her American beer, it is true. But Bonnie is also the professional. For her the cocktail hour does not begin until work is completed. Bonnie is an artist. But yes, this beautiful woman had indeed tried to take her own life. More than once I alone stood between her and the angel of death.”
Daryl:
“My sister never held up the production of a picture in her life. Ask anybody who ever worked with her. She was always on time, always knew her lines. She’d help the young actresses when they were scared. Show them little techniques to make it easier for them—how to hit their mark, that kind of thing. Her favorite people on the. set of any picture were the young kids and the female members of the crew. She’d always have the hairdresser and the script girl and the makeup girl into her trailer after work for a glass of wine or beer with her.”
Jill Fleming:
“She had pneumonia that time in Rome. She almost died of it. Soon as I saw the headlines, I told Trish we’re getting on the next plane. We’re going to take care of Bonnie. All the rest of the trash they write is to sell papers and magazines.”
United Theatricals publicist Liz Harper:
“I’ll tell you exactly what happened. We decided we’d do some research, find out how many people out there actually remembered Bonnie from the sixties. After all, ‘Champagne Flight’ was our big show for the coming season, and Bonnie had not been in a major picture for over ten years. Well, we sent our researchers into the field. We had them stop kids in shopping centers, talk to ladies outside supermarkets. We had them interview an organized sampling of viewers in our testing rooms here.
“At first, we could not believe the results. It turned out that everybody knew Bonnie. If they hadn’t seen her old pictures on late-night television, they had seen the Saint Esprit perfume advertisements or the poster of her by Arlington with the dogs. Midnight Mink had just done a best-selling book of all their famous models. She was on the front page.”
Trish Cody:
“It was Daryl’s business sense absolutely. He said those ads had to read ‘Bonnie for Saint Esprit.’ And she had to have her glasses on, that was her trademark. Those ads have run in every Conde Nast publication for the last three years. And every poster from the Arlington picture had in the lower right-hand corner: ‘Bonnie.’ When she did the other ads, it was the same way. Daryl made her famous to a whole new generation of Americans.”
Daryl:
“You can find that Arlington poster in some store in just about any shopping center in the county. Very tasteful. Very artistic. Of course., now the old Midnight Mink poster is out, too.”
Jill Fleming:
“Bonnie knew what she was doing, telling them to name that perfume Saint Esprit after the island. She had House Beautiful over there immediately, and then Architectural Digest. Then People magazine came. It was the holy trinity of Bonnie, the perfume, the island. And then there was the Vanity Fair piece on her and Harper’s Bazaar and that long feminist piece in Redbook about her retirement. I lost count of the Continental magazine crews that came trooping through. Seems somebody was always saying, ‘Can we just put this little pink pillow here?’ or ‘May we just fluff up this little ruffle?’ And all she did w
as sit there and drink her beer and read her books and watch her television. And Saint Esprit became powder and lotion and bath soap. She came home to the United States bigger than she had ever been.”
Trish Cody: (who has now returned to her thriving clothing business in Dallas, Texas):
“She and Marty Moreschi are the perfect couple. She has single-handedly put ‘Champagne Flight’ at the top of the ratings.”
Unidentified neighbor in Beverly Hills:
“If you’re going to marry a man ten years younger than you, then why not a devastating Italian hunk from the streets of New York who is also a top television wheeler-dealer? The only thing Marty knows better than prime time is how to talk to a woman.”
Gossip columnist Magda Elliott:
“The man’s irresistible really. He’s what you get when you ask Central Casting for the gangster with the heart of gold. It’s only by choice that he is on the other side of the camera.”
Jill Fleming (in business with Trish Cody):
“I told her why not dress as a bride! It’s your first wedding, isn’t it? You wear white if you want.”
Hollywood columnist Lauren Dalton:
“She spent three weeks at the Golden Door—diet, exercise, massage, the works, you know. And when she walked off that plane at LAX with Marty, they couldn’t believe it.”
Marty Moreschi:
“I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. And if I hadn’t scooped her up at Cannes, you can be sure someone else would have done it. All those starlets all over the place standing on their heads to get attention. And there she was: Bonnie, the superstar.”
Trish Cody:
“It was a real Hollywood wedding. And everybody knows Marty will take care of Bonnie, save her from the sharks in that town. Marty and Bonnie are ‘Champagne Flight’ now.”
Blair Sackwell, Midnight Mink president:
“Of course, we were disappointed that we couldn’t get her to do the second Midnight Mink. And the idea we had for the wedding was gorgeous. We would have underwritten everything. Of course, I think Moreschi made a mistake there. He is her personal manager now, you know, never mind that Bonnie and I have been friends for years, that I visited her constantly on Saint Esprit before Marty was around.”
Hollywood columnist Lauren Dalton:
“Blair Sackwell thought he could get her for the old price, of course, the free white mink. And he wanted her to wear it at the wedding, mind you. But everyone wants Bonnie. And sometimes old friends simply don’t understand.”
Marty Moreschi:
“My job is to protect Bonnie. She is besieged on all sides. After all, ‘Champagne Flight’ is launching its own line of products, and we’ve merged with Saint Esprit perfume, and Bonnie’s privacy is precious at this point.”
Blair Sackwell, Midnight Mink president:
“If the show fails, and they all fail eventually, Bonnie will be calling us, you can be sure. No one has ever been asked to do Midnight Mink twice.”
Jill:
“Marty is a natural guardian angel. One of those guys who thinks of absolutely everything.”
Trish:
“We went home to Dallas with the assurance that Marty could handle everything. For the first time even Daryl was satisfied.”
Jill:
“Well, the men in her life have always meant trouble. But Marty is a father, a brother, and a lover. He’s the kind of husband who will end up being her best friend.”
Trish:
“Ah, but those days on Saint Esprit were heaven.”
Although United Theatricals will not confirm it, Bonnie is rumored to be making $75,000 a week for her role as Bonnie Sinclair, the émigré movie star come home to take over the family-owned airline on “Champagne Flight.”
“Her comeback has not changed her a bit,” says an unidentified actress friend. “She’s the same sweet Dallas girl she always was, and Marty and she are truly in love. It’s a second life for her.”
Daryl:
“Thank the Lord they didn’t try to make her a nasty person like Alexis on ‘Dynasty’ or J.R. on ‘Dallas.’ My sister never could have done it. In fact, it was genius to base the character of Bonnie Sinclair on her, to use the clips of her old movies in the series.”
Liz Harper:
“The night Bonnie shot Marty was a comedy of errors. Here was this woman used to her own private island, and suddenly she is all alone in a big Beverly Hills house and Marty is supposed to be in New York and, bang, in comes this man, and Bonnie doesn’t have time to reach for her glasses.”
Trish:
“Bonnie could not see a thing, not a thing without her glasses.”
Marty Moreschi:
“I’d edited the scripts for her, gone over her lines with her, picked out her wardrobe for her. Even bought the damned gun for the bedside table so she’d feel safe in big bad crime-ridden America. But I didn’t think to call that night before I came home.”
The police were all over the house in five minutes. Bonnie was sobbing: “Marty, Marty, Marty.”
“It’s as if an angel was watching over those two,” said ‘Champagne Flight’ assistant producer Matt Rubin. “Five bullets and none of them did any real damage.”
The rumor has it that he said: “Don’t put me in that ambulance unless my wife comes with me.”
Marty and Bonnie threw a big party within a week. “It was beluga caviar and Dom Perignon all around,” said Matt Rubin. “Marty still had his right arm in a sling.”
Of course, Bonnie is open to the prospect of a feature film. Why not?
“Through Bonnie Sinclair I’ve discovered an entirely new dimension to myself. She is me, but she is not me. She can do things I never thought I was capable of.”
A starring role in the new miniseries “Watch over Moscow” is more likely.
“But Marty handles all that,” she said. “If Marty says do it, I will.”
“She is ageless, she is enchanting, she is everything they say she is,” said Alex Clementine, who recently starred as an old lover of Bonnie Sinclair in an episode of “Champagne Flight.”
“She is a goddess.”
END OF BOOK
The National Enquirer said essentially that Bonnie does not eat a bite, smoke a cigarette, or drink a sip not approved first by husband Marty.
“Italian men are not macho, they are guardian angels,” said Bonnie. Bonnie’s dress designers confer with Marty on color, cut, fabric. Bonnie is never out of Marty’s sight.
No mention of Belinda or the school she was supposed to have gone to. She was obviously a bit player in this glitsy drama. But wouldn’t somebody have noticed when she left the stage?
[22]
For a long time I lay on the bed thinking. There are stages to knowing, to absorbing. But the ugly thing was this: the answer to one question created another, and I was more mystified right now than I had been when I knew nothing about Belinda at all. I was more scared right now for her and for me than when I had known nothing at all.
If I was to save us, if I was to reach that decision she talked about, then I had to know and understand the whole thing. I couldn’t go home right now and fake it. I couldn’t just put my arms around her and pretend I didn’t care why she’d walked off on Beverly Hills and United Theatricals and all that.
As for the Swiss school number, I was certain it was a cover-up.
But the essential thing was to know more.
I picked up the phone and called Dan Franklin at the Beverly Wilshire, gave him my number at the Saint Francis, and then, after thinking about it for exactly five minutes, I decided to see if I could lie over a telephone.
I mean, telephone liars are different in my book from those who can look you in the eye and do it. It was worth a try.
I called the New York publisher of the Bonnie biography and told them I was a San Francisco agent named Alex Flint who wanted to hire the author of the bio to do a celebrity book for one of my clients out here. It took about fifteen minu
tes and lots of bullshit, but I got the author’s New York number and rang her at once. So far so good.
“Ah, yeah, that Bonnie bio was a piece of shit. I can do much better stuff than that, done work for Vanity Fair, Vogue, and Rolling Stone.”
“You underrate the book, it’s pretty solid. Only flaw I see is where Bonnie’s daughter, Belinda, is concerned. What ever happened to that little girl? She’s going to make more movies, isn’t she?”
“They’re crazy on the subject of protecting that kid, wouldn’t give me five minutes with the goddess unless I agreed to downplay the kid totally, absolutely no stills from Final Score.”
“You’re talking about United Theatricals.”
“Yeah, and Big Mama herself, who is drugged out of her head by the way, at least she was when I saw her. It’s a wonder she didn’t walk right across her backyard pool.”
“And you never saw the daughter.”
“Nope, locked up at school in Europe they told me. But you should have seen the material I had to cut on that little girl.”
“Yeah? What kind of thing?”
“Tons of stuff out of the European papers. Ever see the shampoo ads she did with her father when she was eight, both of them naked in the surf off Mykonos? I mean racy. But they wouldn’t even let me mention G.G. That’s her father. And then she had a two-week Christmas holiday affair in Paris with an Arab prince when she was thirteen. Photographers chased them all over the city. But the juicy stuff is before that. She was the one who’d haul Bonnie to emergency rooms all over Europe every time Bonnie overdosed. Talked her mother’s way out of a drug bust in London when she was nine. And Bonnie tried to drive them both over a cliff the last summer they were on Saint Esprit.”
“Some mother.”
“Yeah, Belinda grabbed the wheel of the car and drove it into the side of the hill. A bunch of tourists nosing around in the Greek ruins saw the whole thing. Bonnie runs to the rail, tries to jump, screaming at the kid, ‘Why did you stop me?’ The tour guide restrains her. All over the Italian papers. After that no more tourists ever got to see the Greek ruins on Saint Esprit.”