It did not take long before I realized that, for the Reagans, the movies weren’t just pleasant distractions from the burdens of office. It was the world from which they originated during the prime of their lives, the language in which they sometimes communicated, the profession that changed their lives’ trajectory, and the source of many life lessons. Old habits die hard. Sometimes, when asking for a Saturday radio speech text, for example, the president would call it a “script.” And from time to time, he referred to me as his “publicity man.”
“We were introduced to a whole new world and so many new people,” Mrs. Reagan recalled, when I asked her about her Hollywood days. “You learned how to develop a tough skin and how to protect your privacy.”
Those of us who knew President Reagan understood keenly that his years in the motion picture industry were probably the most enjoyable of his life. That is not to say he did not enjoy the presidency, but it did seem that he had more plain old fun making movies. Who wouldn’t?
Though his political opponents routinely sought to diminish him as a “B-movie star,” Ronald Reagan was never embarrassed about having been an actor. In fact, he was quite proud of being in “the motion picture business,” as he called it. During our White House days, I remember once joking with a colleague that if Ronald Reagan could carve his own tombstone, it might read:
RONALD REAGAN
Movie Star
(Who Later Served in Public Office)
I have always felt that part of what he loved most about Hollywood was that that was where he met Nancy in 1949 and where they began their life together. Mrs. Reagan made that point as well. “It brought us together,” she told me. “Ann Straus, who worked in publicity at Metro [Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, or MGM Studios], suggested we meet. I thought that was a nifty idea.”
To the consternation of his staff, Ronald Reagan would sometimes say he did not see how someone could do the job of president without having been an actor. Critics seized on that as evidence that he was shallow, insincere, and just playing a role. Ridiculous. I asked him about it once, and he told me what he meant: that because of television (there was no internet during the Reagan years) the modern-day US presidency required an understanding of how to influence public opinion in a new way. He was keenly aware that most people formed their opinions based on what they saw on-screen, and that a simple gesture, expression, or image could have far more impact than a perfectly crafted policy platform or speech.
He also was acutely aware of the fact that when people saw their president on television, they expected to see a person who conducted himself or herself with dignity because the president represented the American people. He viewed himself as a symbol and knew that what people in other countries thought about the US president was what they thought about America. Yet he did not obsess about details of these events. He wisely left that to the staff, whose expertise he respected as fellow professionals. It was nice to work for someone who understood and appreciated the technical requirements of the presidency, such as lighting, camera angles, and backdrops, which he had learned about in Hollywood.
Some of us on his ever-cautious, ever-worried Washington press team would have preferred the commander in chief downplay his Hollywood years. We thought there was something frivolous about the movie business, but Ronald Reagan did not. He viewed it as an honorable profession, one that required talent and hard work, and he often reminded us that, as a business, the motion picture industry was quite successful. I remember him pointing out on more than one occasion that the export of American culture and values—primarily through movies—was how many countries got to know and form opinions of the United States.
It’s true that Ronald Reagan was most animated when recounting his Hollywood days, which led to unfair and unflattering stories about his lack of interest in more weighty matters of policy. But in fairness, his film career was what people asked him about most often. It was a lot more interesting to hear about being on a soundstage with Errol Flynn than it was talking about budget negotiations with bland politicians.
Reagan’s friends and detractors alike often described the president’s elusive nature. That he was, as many put it, a hard man to get to know. Sometimes I think that’s true, and sometimes I think that’s total nonsense. But his Hollywood career does provide some explanation for it.
In 1965, long before he entered the White House, Reagan entitled his first memoir Where’s the Rest of Me? This was a famous line from one of his movies—the dark 1942 drama Kings Row—in which he played a man injured in a railroad accident who wakes up from surgery to discover to his horror that his legs have been amputated. Reagan worked for days on end to perfect that delivery. And the line stuck with him for years thereafter. “No single line in my career has been as effective in explaining to me what an actor’s life must be,” he wrote in the book. “So much of our profession is taken up with pretending . . . that an actor must spend at least half his waking hours in fantasy, in rehearsal or shooting.”I That life also encouraged actors to keep to themselves, since every few months or so, they’d have to make friends with a whole new cast and crew, shoot a film, and then move on to something else.
“My world contracted into not much more than a soundstage, my home, and occasional nights on the town. The circle of my friends closed in. The demands of my work—sometimes as much as fourteen hours a day—cut me off even from my brother, Neil, who lived within half a mile of my apartment.”II President Reagan had a very warm relationship with his only sibling, his older brother, Neil, who went by the nickname “Moon.” They both went to Eureka College, and Neil also began his career in Hollywood. He was a radio director, an actor, and a television director. Even though he never appeared with his brother, Neil directed him in the television series Death Valley Days. Neil eventually went on to become a successful advertising executive.
The Reagans became accustomed to short, though often valued and memorable friendships, and depended more and more on each other for support and comfort. That was one of the secrets to their great love and enduring marriage.
Together, of course, they starred on the greatest and most important stage in the world. And they did it using all of the skills they’d honed during their many years in Hollywood—particularly a belief in the importance of telling a story. Which, of course, is the goal of every film.
Each movie I selected for inclusion in this book—from a list of the hundreds we watched together—tells a story of its own. Each occurs at a particular moment in time in the Reagan presidency and provides a view of what was going on in the administration behind the scenes. For example, we watched Rocky IV during a crucial turning point in the Cold War. Each film also tells us something about the 1980s, a decade many Americans still recall nostalgically. Top Gun, for example, is generally regarded as one of the definitive films of the era. And, just as important, each reveals new insights into the Reagans themselves.
Let me be clear at the outset: I am a proudly biased fan of President and Mrs. Reagan. I feel incredibly honored to have had the rare opportunity to work for them, travel with them, and share some of their deeply treasured time at Camp David with them. I hope this book enables readers to rediscover some of the most iconic movies in our country’s history through the eyes and experiences of two of its most memorable public figures, who were also two deeply proud artists of the craft of filmmaking. I hope, too, that this book gives some more insight into their life together at Camp David, the White House, and afterward, and offers some understanding of what the Reagans were like behind the scenes. And I hope you enjoy reliving these memories at least a fraction as much as I did.
* * *
I. Ronald Reagan with Richard G. Hubler, Where’s the Rest of Me? (New York: Duell, Sloan and Pearce, 1965), 6.
II. Ronald Reagan with Hubler, Where’s the Rest of Me?, 6.
1
9 TO 5
Starring:
Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, Dolly Parton
Directed by:
/> Colin Higgins
Viewed by the Reagans:
February 14, 1981
The Film That Made the Reagans Angry and Propelled a First Lady’s Crusade
It was February 14, 1981, and Ronald Reagan, less than one month into his presidency, was faced with a dilemma. With the press chronicling his moves and Secret Service agents trailing him everywhere, how was he going to surprise his wife with a Valentine’s Day card?
Earlier that week, the president had told his security detail that, like most married men, he had personally selected a card every year during their nearly twenty-nine years of marriage, and he intended to continue the practice. To their consternation, Reagan further informed the Secret Service that he wanted to leave the White House, head over to a nearby gift shop, and purchase a card for the First Lady of his life.
Ronald Reagan could be very stubborn, especially on a matter that he held important. And on this question, he held firm.
So, after a series of troubled glances and murmurs, the agents relented and drove the chief executive to the store, where he picked out an assortment of cards for his wife.I That was when Reagan fully absorbed just how much his life had changed.
The result of his excursion was not what the president expected: total pandemonium, as stunned customers milled around and a crowd of onlookers formed, causing discomfort for the agents.
“That was just about the last shopping expedition outside the White House,” Reagan recalled later. “It caused such a commotion that I never wanted to do that to a shopkeeper again.” Still, he was quite tickled that he could surprise Nancy with a card that Saturday at Camp David, on one of their first visits to the presidential retreat.II
The Ronald and Nancy Reagan love affair is, of course, legendary. I confess that I did not understand its intensity—or believe in its sincerity—at first. When I heard the president say once that he “could not imagine life without Nancy,” I didn’t get it. Admittedly, I was single at the time, but that seemed a bit much. Yet as I got to know the Reagans over the years, I realized he was telling the truth. (And once I got married, I got it.)
Contrary to my cynical impression, there was nothing fake or staged about their relationship. It was not just for the cameras. Everything seen in public was the same behind the scenes. They held hands, whispered to each other, exchanged glances, and were edgy when the other was gone. Their devotion was so complete, in fact, that it could be, at times, isolating for others.
That isn’t to say the relationship was without hiccups. Some were typical: the president expressing annoyance that his wife was taking too long getting ready to go somewhere, for example. If Ronald Reagan had one long-standing complaint about Nancy, it was that she was on the telephone a lot. It was not uncommon when we would be getting ready to go somewhere for the president, all dressed and ready, to stand with the staff and Secret Service, waiting for Mrs. Reagan. He would look at his watch and grumble, “Nancy is on that damnphone”—he made it one word—“again.”
One time at the White House, he was in his tuxedo waiting impatiently for her. She emerged finally in a beautiful gown, and we got into the elevator that would take us from the family quarters to the ground floor, where the motorcade was staged. The annoyance melted away. Mrs. Reagan said to her husband, “You look pretty, honey.” A quizzical look crossed his face, and he said, “I’m trying to figure out if it’s okay for a man to look ‘pretty.’ ” I assured him that it was.
The first time I arrived at Camp David, that Valentine’s weekend, I was not entirely sure the experience was real. Who was I to be on Marine One with the president of the United States and spending a weekend with him and the First Lady at this famed place? I expected a burly man in a dark suit to come up behind me at any moment, tap me on the shoulder, and say, “It’s over; you know you don’t belong here,” as he escorted me to a waiting government sedan.
My first impressions of Camp David were “Wow! This is amazing!” and yet, shortly thereafter, a sense of “This is it?” The presidential retreat was both overwhelming and understated, which I later came to realize was the point. It was designed to be a contrast to what some saw as the cold formality of the White House, which was really a museum where the First Couple’s lives were constantly on display. Here the president and the First Lady could kick back, relax, and just be themselves. The facilities were neither fancy nor rustic; comfort was the goal. The devoted and discreet staff at Camp David succeeded in ensuring that everyone felt at home.
Camp David, Mrs. Reagan recalled, offered “a tremendous feeling of release.”III It helped the Reagans keep a perspective on things and have time to reflect. It was such a special place that they guarded it, being careful about who was allowed to join them there. It was not that the Reagans had anything to hide. It was just that they did not want or need a large entourage when they were at this quiet, picturesque place where they could just relax. And there was nothing that helped them relax more than watching a feature film.
As had quickly become the practice since the Reagans began traveling to Camp David, the small group of staff with them was invited to join them in their residence to watch what was usually the latest popular movie. President and Mrs. Reagan had a strong desire to provide some entertainment for aides like me who, as he put it, “have to go with us” to Camp David. (As if we had better options.) The president was sometimes criticized for leaving the Oval Office at five o’clock every day, contributing to the false impression among some in the pundit class that he was old and lazy. Actually, it was an intentional practice. He left then because he knew that if he was in the office, the staff would stay as long as he did. He wanted them to go home at reasonable hours and be with their families.
Once he got to the family quarters, he would spend several hours at work at his desk in an office adjacent to his and Nancy’s bedroom. The Reagans also scheduled their December trips to California to begin after Christmas Day, so that staff, press, and Secret Service could be with their families for the holiday.
That chilly February evening, Mrs. Reagan greeted all of us for the showing of the evening’s film, the comedy 9 to 5, which had been released to great success the previous December. The film grossed nearly $4 million in its opening weekend, a huge take at the time, and became the second-highest-grossing film of 1980 (behind only The Empire Strikes Back and Superman II). The combination of the movie’s star power and timeless message helped to make it one of the first real hits of the Reagan era.
The critics, as is often the case, were tougher to impress. The New York Times found the social commentary ham-handed. “ ‘Nine to Five’ begins as satire, slips uncertainly into farce . . . and concludes by waving the flag of feminism as earnestly as Russian farmers used to wave the hammer-and-sickle at the end of movies about collective farming,” grumbled Vincent Canby, who at the time was one of the preeminent film critics in the country. The legendary film critic Roger Ebert called the movie “a good-hearted, simple-minded comedy.” But he praised the debut performance of the country music star Dolly Parton, calling her “a natural-born movie star; a performer who holds our attention so easily that it’s hard to believe it’s her first film.”
Parton wrote and recorded the movie’s theme song, also called “9 to 5,” which became one of her biggest hits. One wag almost immediately renamed the song “9 to 10” to poke fun at President Reagan’s age (he had just turned seventy) and his alleged love of naps, a recurring joke that would resonate throughout the Reagan years. A 1979 Saturday Night Live spoof joked about Reagan’s “dentures,” his need to eat soft foods such as rice pudding and cottage cheese, and his need for frequent napping during the day. Reagan himself would make jokes in this regard. But in fact, the president hated taking naps during the day and did so only when required by his doctors, such as after the March 1981 assassination attempt.
Shortly after Reagan left office, however, the mostly good-natured ribbing about his alleged dozing crossed a line. After all, at that point, he
wasn’t even around to be in on the joke himself. Word reached us at the postpresidency office in Los Angeles that some on George H. W. Bush’s White House staff were still cracking sleep jokes. Specifically, we had heard that on an overseas trip that began very early in the morning, a staff member said laughingly to the press, “Can you imagine the Gipper up at this hour?” It was understandable for a new president to want to establish his own identity, but taking a crack at his predecessor seemed mean-spirited to us.
Somehow word got back to Mrs. Reagan. One of the offending staffers wrote an apology note to her (which was answered by the staff). I spoke about it with President Bush’s press secretary, Marlin Fitzwater, who had been my boss during the last two years of the Reagan administration and was a friend. He was certain that the crack came from a place of genuine affection, but nonetheless, he promised to take the matter to the top. True to his word, Marlin walked into the Oval Office and told President Bush of our conversation. Bush immediately handwrote Ronald Reagan a note (which began “Dear Ron” and mentioned Marlin and me by name) assuring President Reagan that he had nothing to do with such comments and that he’d ordered his staff to say no such things anymore. He added that he had the greatest respect and affection for the president and Nancy. When the note reached Los Angeles, President Reagan read it and completely accepted his successor’s apology. He put Bush’s note in his desk drawer, and that was that. Silly political squabbling never bothered or even interested Ronald Reagan. To this day, I wish I had asked him if I could have that note.
Movie Nights with the Reagans Page 2
