Elvis Ignited

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Elvis Ignited Page 16

by Kealing, Bob;


  When the Sinatra special aired on May 12, 1960, ratings were stellar, but many reviewers were not kind. “Two years in the Army did more for Elvis Presley than relieve him of his sideburns. His name mellowed with absence, and some people cast a friendlier eye on the new image,” wrote a reviewer in Time magazine. “Last week ABC’s Frank Sinatra Timex Show spent more than a quarter of a million dollars to welcome Elvis home and performed a highly useful service: It reminded the forgetful just how dreadful Elvis really is.”

  The reviewer compared the unusually curly hair-do Presley fretted over to “a Vaseline halo,” called his voice “an ordinary whine, on the point of becoming vinegar,” and pronounced the show itself “pretentious and dull.” On that last point, judging from surviving clips, the reviewer gives a fair assessment. Like it or not, this was the speed, tempo, and look of much of Presley’s 1960s output as dictated by Tom Parker.

  Due to the lack of challenging acting roles and loss of the electrified, emotionally charged give-and-take that Presley had enjoyed with his live audiences, it’s no wonder he sought refuge in drugs. Tom Parker’s consistently lousy career choices and his star client’s willingness to acquiesce had the effect of marginalizing Presley and his career.

  Despite securing a king’s ransom for Presley’s appearance with Sinatra, after all the hoopla Parker engineered on the train ride to Miami, the skinflint promoter made Presley and his entourage ride a greyhound bus back to Memphis.

  Presley would be back in Florida for a six-week movie-making stint the following year.

  19

  Follow That Dream

  July–August 1961

  Since Florida fans could not hope to see Elvis Presley live in concert in 1961, news that he would spend six weeks in the Sunshine State making his ninth film, Follow That Dream, was the next best thing. A variety of film locations in Ocala, Silver Springs, Yankeetown, and Inverness provided Presley a Florida homecoming. Making this film afforded him a chance to shed some of the pretense of Hollywood, to emerge from his increasingly cloistered life to some extent, and to walk among his legion of still-devoted fans.

  Based on Florida author Richard Powell’s 1959 New York Times bestselling novel Pioneer Go Home, the film focuses on the true story of a group of fishermen who claimed squatters’ rights to a tract of land under a new bridge between Fort Myers and Pine Island. The fill dirt used to build the bridge created a stretch of property not seen on existing maps. They eventually prevailed in their claims.

  For Tom Parker there was something personal about having Presley in a film about someone coming to Florida, starting with nothing and thriving, just as he had after his release from military incarceration. “I believe that there is as much gold in Florida—of course not in the literal sense—as in the California Gold Rush,” Parker said in a prescient moment in 1959. “Many friends I know and have known for 25 or 30 years came to Florida with very little money. Some of them were broke. Most of them are very rich men today.”

  Twenty years before Presley came to Florida to make the movie, Parker was down and out; he was newly released from the psych ward when he caught on with carnivals and the Hillsborough County Humane Society. Within ten years he had broken into show business management and booking. By 1961 he was a legend-in-the-making and a feared negotiator who had Hollywood big shots agreeing to pay his only client the kind of money reserved for its biggest stars. By one estimate Parker himself was making $300,000 a year.

  Tom Parker lived the Florida dream of seeking and earning a better life; how he did so remains a topic of debate among Presley’s fans. Still, the film’s premise was no hillbilly joke to Tom Parker: “I think that this is a great story that has never been told,” said Parker. “Many people who came here for a vacation, or were simply passing through, stayed to become the real pioneers of Florida.”

  Toby Kwimper, Presley’s character in the film, is a strong, good-looking, simple southern kid; an innocent whose brawn often makes up for his lack of brains; a less exaggerated version of the Jethro Bodine character played by Max Baer Jr. in the popular TV show the Beverly Hillbillies. In the film, Kwimper’s father, played by venerable character actor Arthur O’Connell, makes his family squatters on a picturesque stretch of beach after taking a wrong turn along a newly built highway. Once some disagreeable government men get Pop Kwimper’s dander up, they claim squatters’ rights, then use their resourcefulness to make a living in a sandy, palm-treed paradise.

  Anne Helm, a twenty-two-year-old Canadian model and actress, played Toby Kwimper’s adopted little sister, an orphan named Holly Jones. Helm’s character is babysitter and caretaker to a tow-headed pair of twin boys, Eddy and Teddy, played by Gavin and Robin Coon—often seen in the film but barely heard. To no one’s surprise, an offscreen romance developed between Presley and his leading lady. On screen, there are enough run-ins with government officials and dangerous, over-dressed gangsters to give Presley plenty of opportunity to act, sing, and karate chop his way out of trouble.

  Follow That Dream Parkway, Inglis, Florida. Courtesy of Mike Robinson.

  Gambling was illegal in Florida, so some real-life gangsters were enlisted to bring in the dice tables and other equipment needed for Presley’s scenes with underworld bad guys. “Maybe they’ll have a screen credit,” Hollywood columnist Erskine Johnson suggested: “Gambling equipment courtesy of the Mafia.” The film went through several name changes before the producers settled on Follow That Dream. Even though some consider the film another forgettable Elvis vehicle, the fact that he looks the part and plays a down-to-earth character truer to the young man he was when he first toured Florida explains its enduring appeal to Florida fans. This time he wouldn’t be wearing a tux and trying to mimic Sinatra on national television.

  Images of the ghastly heat and weather problems the crew endured in July and August 1961 during the making of Follow That Dream fall away when you see Presley on screen; still young, still in full possession of his superstar voice and looks. Never mind the plot—just having Elvis Presley in a variety of old Florida locations like the historic courthouse at Inverness makes the film an unforgettable slice of Florida lore; an idealized view of the Sunshine State prior to superhighways and sprawl, and of Presley before his slow, agonizing decline.

  Production plans called for Presley to film scenes inside an Ocala bank and to do interiors in the Crystal River High School gymnasium. The majority of the outdoor scenes were to be shot along a scenic stretch of State Road 40 in both Inglis and Yankeetown, before wrapping up inside the courthouse in Inverness. Tom Parker struck a deal for Presley to be paid $600,000 plus 50 percent of the film’s box office profits. Thanks to Parker, Presley had become one of Hollywood’s highest paid actors; a far cry from his days barnstorming Florida, putting in all those grueling miles crammed into a sedan, hoping to catch late-night truck-stop fried chicken.

  Shooting started the first week of July 1961.

  20

  Crystal River

  When Anne Helm read for the role of Holly, the enormity of what could happen if the audition went well was lost on her. Never mind that far more established actresses like Connie Stephens and Tuesday Weld were rumored to be up for the role—there was something about the character that Helm found easy to relate to and occupy. “I remember when I tested for the part, I was able to transport myself into the role of Holly; that doesn’t always happen,” Helm said. “I remember enjoying the test scene a lot and I really wasn’t all that nervous.”

  Producers leaned strongly toward Weld—some early publicity even suggested she had indeed won the role. In the end they decided she could not be “southern enough.” Ironically, Helm was a Canadian-born dancer, actress, and former New York model; not exactly out of the backwoods herself. When word came that she had gotten the role and would star on-screen opposite Elvis Presley, Helm knew it would mean spending a lot of time with him. But grasping the enormity of his fame would come later. In the short term, it was time to celebrate. “When I found
out I did get the role I was really surprised and thrilled,” Helm recalled. “I went out and bought myself a brand new T-Bird.”

  Presley and his regular group of bodyguard buddies, the Memphis Mafia, came to town in a caravan pulling Presley’s boat. For the first time his teenage cousin Billy Smith was also accompanying Presley to a location shoot. Bodyguard Red West had just gotten married and planned to spend a working honeymoon as Presley’s stunt double. In a rented bus Presley and his entourage traversed the pristine waterways and fishing hamlets dotting the outer reaches of Florida’s Big Bend region, south across the Suwannee River, headed for Crystal River. On Thursday July 6 Tom Parker and a security contingent met up with them on State Road 19, escorting the convoy toward Presley’s home for the next six weeks: the governor’s suite at the Port Paradise Hotel.

  “Boy this is really a beautiful place,” Presley said, adding a whistle for emphasis. After inspecting the grounds, he declared, “This is better than I had in Hawaii.” Before to coming to Florida, the last film Presley had shot on location was the still unreleased Blue Hawaii. Some 4,600 miles away, situated in the heart of Florida’s Nature Coast, Crystal River borders King’s Bay, a spring-fed wintertime paradise to scores of manatees migrating inland when the Gulf of Mexico cools. Even in the hottest stretches of summer, the springs flow at or near a constant, refreshing 72 degrees.

  “Presley’s villa at Port Paradise is barricaded like a prison compound,” the Suncoast Sentinel reported. “A fence surrounds it, and the entrance gate is locked. Guards are on duty 24 hours a day.” The head of security, Deputy Sheriff Louis Pielow, was in charge of deciding who would get close to Presley during his stay and who would not.

  Two days before filming was to commence, Helm flew to Florida and with little fanfare checked into a smaller room at the Port Paradise. She busied herself with preparations for her hair, makeup, and wardrobe. After a long day she and her hairstylist caught a bite to eat at a local restaurant. “Somebody’s over there looking at you,” said Helm’s dinner companion. Over in a far corner, in the middle of his entourage, Elvis Presley was setting eyes on his new co-star in person for the first time.

  “You know he’s checking you out,” the stylist whispered.

  “I couldn’t really see him, he was sort of hidden away,” Helm remembered. “I got pretty flustered and I didn’t really meet him at that time.”

  Later that evening Presley sent a message through a production manager requesting an opportunity to meet with Helm privately. When she agreed, Helm received a knock on the door of her room. “There he was with a flower in his hand,” Helm remembered. “I just kind of melted.” The twenty-six-year-old leading man differed from the impression Helm had gotten watching him on television. “I didn’t know what to expect because I’d seen Elvis as a teenager on the Ed Sullivan Show, and I thought he was a little strange.”

  Having been raised by a manic-depressive mother and having had to help support her family from a young age, Helm wasn’t the typical carefree teen of the 1950s; she started modeling at age fourteen. There wasn’t a lot of time for the fun other kids her age were having, and she was never caught up in Presleymania. Now the controversial rock and roller of the 1950s, whom Ed Sullivan had had cameramen shoot only from the waist up, in no way resembled the far more refined man who’d come by to introduce himself properly.

  “He was so sweet and humble and he asked for a glass of water,” Helm recalled. “We sat down and began to talk and that was the beginning of our relationship.”

  The Port Paradise gave Presley a place to park his new twenty-foot Chris-Craft Coronado power boat with easy access to skiing and fishing. The notion that he could enjoy old Florida recreation like any other tourist was pure fantasy; even in this remote part of the state, word of his arrival electrified fans, many of whom were determined to interact with him in person. But being on the water did give Presley the ability to relax and enjoy some separation from ever-present autograph seekers.

  Like Presley, Helm was the embodiment of many parts of her character: beautiful, innocent, and down-home. She also felt at home in Florida, having lived and worked previously in Miami Beach. Presley was smitten with her immediately. Besides the card games in which Helm participated, there wasn’t a lot to do in Crystal River at night. During the first few days on location, now that the two were acquainted, Presley asked Helm if she’d like to go for a drive. Generations later, this remains one of her favorite memories of him.

  The two rode in a white hardtop Cadillac limo down State Road 40, an isolated stretch of two-lane highway dotted by trees adorned with Spanish moss. The dark Florida back country sky beamed with constellations of stars, and cooling breezes brought whispers of romance. “There was something very surreal about it. I thought: I can’t believe I’m sitting in this huge car in a wooded area with Elvis Presley,” Helm said with an air of disbelief. “Then a song of his came on the radio and I thought: This is just beyond anything I could ever imagine.” Helm said she liked to think the song was “Loving You” but wasn’t sure and didn’t think to keep a diary.

  On-screen the two were like brother and sister, but off-screen was a different story. In the isolated reaches of Crystal River, a strong attraction was building between two Hollywood stars who might as well have been stranded together on a desert island. Helm became “one of the guys” closest to Elvis week in and week out, seeing better than most what his life was like; the good and the bad. “He was caged by his fame,” Helm said. In a fenced-off compound surrounded by twenty-four-hour guards, even in a spring-fed paradise this was never more true.

  In the newspapers Parker and his right-hand man Tom Diskin made sure to capitalize on Presley’s budding romance with Helm. Within days word had filtered back to Louella Parsons, one of the era’s highest-profile Hollywood gossip columnists: “Elvis has been dating leading lady Anne Helm in high style,” she reported. “He put one of his cars, a plush white Cadillac, at her disposal…. Also he’s a great boy with the flowers.”

  Early on, photos show Presley looking relaxed, standing outside his villa holding an impromptu autograph session with fans. Often they included young children, adults, and seniors—evidence that his persona of five years before, as the rock and roll bad boy who brought controversy to Florida, was long gone.

  When filming began in early July, many locals would have the chance to appear as extras, getting paid ten to twenty dollars a day to work, talk, eat, and hang out with Presley. Others were asked to perform odd jobs in and around the set. Local police officers and security men by the dozens earned three dollars an hour making sure fans didn’t get too close to Presley. “Don’t worry,” Parker assured them. “If fans come through and get close to Elvis, he can handle it.”

  Still others lucky enough to work their regular jobs where some of the scenes were filmed had front-row seats to watch Presley ply his new trade as an actor.

  21

  Weall House, Inglis, and Commercial Bank and Trust, Ocala

  A Tampa Tribune reporter was allowed to observe the goings-on in Inglis, where the earliest scenes for Follow That Dream were filmed. He noted how professional Presley was during the tedious process of adjusting lights, moving cameras into place, and testing equipment: “Finally someone yelled ‘Quiet everybody!’ and somebody else yelled ‘Take One,’ and the first scene of Elvis Presley’s new movie was under way.” In early location photos shot at the Weall House in Inglis, Presley and Helm have an obvious rapport. One photo caption posed the possibility of an off-screen romance: “Elvis’ interest in leading lady Anne Helm appears more than professional.”

  This deleted scene, the first one shot in Florida, featured character actor Dub Taylor, who would go on to play the farmer who hides under his truck as lawmen make it judgment day for Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway in Bonnie and Clyde. From Inglis, location shooting moved into downtown Ocala.

  In the bookkeeping department at the Commercial Bank and Trust at 203 East Silver Springs Boulevard
in Ocala, bank teller Betty Larson heard the unmistakable voice of bank president James Richardson, taking a guest on a tour.

  “I’ve got somebody you have to meet,” said Richardson as he introduced Presley to the surprised and awestruck young teller. Larson was aware that her place of employment was going to be another early filming location and that Presley would be getting a walk-through before cameras rolled, but still, to see up close the rock star she idolized in the 1950s was stunning.

  “It was very hard to believe—everybody knew I was crazy about him,” said Larson, who bought a new pink outfit and the highest high heels she’d ever worn, just in case something like this happened. “They started to leave and he grabbed and kissed me right on the lips,” Larson remembered. “All the bookkeepers shouted.” Clearly they were in on the surprise, as was Presley, who was always ready for a little fun.

  During the course of several days Presley spent time in Richardson’s office talking finance, impressing the bank president with his interest in business. “The Colonel made him a star,” Richardson declared. “But Elvis was no dummy.” Richardson did not charge the film crew a location fee for using his bank. The avalanche of positive press attention was worth it.

  Members of Ocala’s theater community jumped at the chance to interact with Presley. While he was new to town, Michael Hall joined the Marion Players. After Hall directed a couple of one-act plays, the president of their group received a casting call from Hollywood. Would any of the local theater group members be interested in making a little money as extras in a film starring Elvis Presley?

 

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