Movie Nights with the Reagans

by Mark Weinberg

  “That ended pictures for me. Hollywood adopted an attitude that TV performers were verboten on the big screen, and once Hollywood starts believing its own cocktail party pronouncements, you just have to wait til they get off on a new kick. It didn’t matter that my Sunday night stint [on G.E. Theater] was a quick forty-five seconds—I had a weekly show, and that was that.”

  More than twenty years later, that resentment had subsided at least enough for the president to consent to showing Hellcats that evening in Aspen Lodge.

  We were coming off what had been a busy travel week for the president. On Monday he traveled from the ranch near Santa Barbara, California, to Independence, Missouri, where he spoke about tax reform at the thirteenth annual Santa-Cali-Gon days celebration. The Santa-Cali-Gon days celebration, according to the celebration’s website, “commemorates the origin of the Santa Fe, California, and Oregon trails during the country’s great westward expansion by early pioneers. More than 300,000 attendees spend Labor Day weekend at the region’s oldest and largest festival.” On Thursday, he traveled to Raleigh, North Carolina, to address students and faculty at North Carolina State University, again about tax reform. And on Friday he, Mrs. Reagan, and Maureen hosted a luncheon for Elected Republican Women in the State Dining Room at the White House. Later that day, we left for Camp David.

  In a relatively rare occurrence, the Reagans had a personal guest at Camp David that weekend: their longtime friend and acclaimed decorator, Ted Graber. He had been staying at the White House that week. Ted was always fun to be with. He had a great sense of humor, took an interest in whomever he was talking to, and, despite being one of the most successful interior designers of his time, was as down-to-earth and unpretentious as one could get.

  That Saturday was a hot one, so after the president finished his weekly radio address, he and Mrs. Reagan spent most of the day at the pool. Of course, there was always more work to be done. President Reagan took an important call from Canadian prime minister Brian Mulroney regarding the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI). The prime minister informed the president that the Canadian government had voted against teaming up with the United States for SDI research, but noted that he personally supported our efforts, and that there would be no blocks against private Canadian companies or other groups lending their assistance. Reagan understood and accepted the decision. A potentially awkward international situation was avoided by two world leaders who shared a warm friendship.

  Ted Graber had joined the Reagans for dinner in Aspen, so he was already inside when “the gang” showed up at the front door at the usual time. Ted sat on the couch with the Reagans while the movie was shown. He was on Mrs. Reagan’s left and the president was on her right. I’m sure no political symbolism was implied by that arrangement! The projector started up, and Hellcats began.

  Made in 1957, Hellcats of the Navy was based on Vice Admiral Charles A. Lockwood’s and Hans Christian Adamson’s book Hellcats of the Sea. Ronald Reagan plays Casey Abbott, the commander of a US Navy submarine in the Pacific in World War II. The mission—to capture a new Japanese mine—encounters problems, and Commander Abbott must abandon a popular crew member on a dive attempting repairs. But Abbott’s second-in-command thinks Abbott did so unnecessarily and, worse, for personal reasons. The diver was a rival for the affections of Nurse Lieutenant Helen Blair, played by none other than Nancy Davis. Though the Reagans were married by the time they made Hellcats, Mrs. Reagan was credited under her maiden name.

  The movie’s eighty-two-minute running time seemed to go by in much less. I was surprised at how few scenes Mrs. Reagan was in, far fewer than her husband, despite being billed as a costar. Her role in the film was crucial, yet I still did not see as much of her as I thought I would. As I watched, I kept waiting for her to appear!

  I was around the man every day, yet the Commander Abbott I saw on the screen was nothing like Ronald Reagan at all. He was serious, even brooding, never smiling or appearing happy until the end. It was jarring. But, then, that’s acting!

  There was an extra flourish among the small group of us in Aspen whenever one of the president’s own movies came to an end. There was always a round of applause, and the president would stand up and bow. Tonight it was a standing ovation, as we applauded both of our hosts.

  We moved toward the fireplace for our usual postmovie discussion. These always went on a bit longer after a Reagan movie, because we had the chance to get their firsthand perspectives. We would pepper them with questions about every aspect of the movie: script issues, special effects, stunts, makeup, bloopers, and more. The president’s and Mrs. Reagan’s memories were amazing. They could recall everything and never tired of sharing anecdote after anecdote.

  The big question we had for the president after Hellcats, of course, was what it had been like acting alongside his wife. He said it was special because they were together, and they would often hold hands on the set (as they still did). But once the director, Nathan Juran, shouted “Action!” they became professionals—an actor and an actress—and had no problems playing their roles. Mrs. Reagan nodded in agreement.

  Interestingly, some years earlier, both Reagans had told stories about their time filming Hellcats of the Navy together that were slightly different from what they shared with us that night.

  In her first autobiography, Nancy, published in 1980, Mrs. Reagan recalled things this way:

  “What I remember best is a scene in which Ronnie is about to go to sea in his submarine, and we say farewell. The scene was shot on a dock in San Diego in front of a stack of explosive mines. I was sending him off to risk his life, and I couldn’t stand it. The idea got to me. I kept breaking up in tears, and we had to reshoot and reshoot. However, I must say the love scenes in this film were the easiest I ever had to do.”

  Her costar had a similar recollection, writing earlier in Where’s the Rest of Me?:

  Nancy played a nurse, and the love interest. As I say, there is a tendency to get more involved when the atmosphere is for real rather than the make-believe of a soundstage. We have a moonlight farewell scene on the eve of my departure for the dangerous mission which was the climax of the story. The first thing we all knew, Nancy was crying instead of saying the script lines, and then she was giggling between sobs, laughing at herself for having gotten so carried away that she was really saying good-bye and sending me on a suicide mission.

  Seeing Ronald Reagan in a US Navy uniform that night, even if only on film (in real life, he had served in the army), was undoubtedly especially fun for the Camp David commander, since Camp David is a navy facility. As it happened, the duty military aide that weekend was a navy commander, so there was another naval officer present who was probably happy to see the commander in chief in their service’s uniform.

  The Reagans had a good time. Any awkwardness about seeing themselves on-screen, or painful associations with Hellcats as signaling the end of their movie careers, were banished by the time Reagan recorded the evening in his diary the next day: “Sat. night we ran ‘Hellcats of the Navy’ starring N.D.R. and R.R. It was fun.”

  In Hellcats, Reagan’s on-screen enemies were the Japanese. As president, of course, he enjoyed an excellent relationship with his Japanese counterpart for much of his administration, the conservative prime minister Yasuhiro Nakasone.

  Just four years later, however, Ronald and Nancy Reagan would again find themselves facing a very real challenge involving Japan.

  In 1989 the Reagans were paid $2 million for a series of appearances in Japan under the sponsorship of the Fujisankei Communications Group. That amount for multiple appearances by a popular former president and First Lady seems quaint by today’s standards. Nonetheless, it was a lot of money and caused some to accuse the Reagans of “cashing in on the presidency.”

  Though I was working in the former president’s office, I was not consulted on the original decision to make the deal with Fujisankei. Regardless, my job as director of public affairs was to do what I could to
mitigate the damage to his reputation. Obviously, the easiest way to fix the situation would have been to cancel the trip.

  Unlikely as it was, I decided to give that approach a shot in a conversation with former President Reagan. I was candid and told him that there were people who thought he was being “greedy” and was cashing in on the presidency. He listened to the points I was making but looked at me with a steely gaze. Finally, in a firm voice, he asked, “What are you suggesting we do?”

  I gulped and then said, “Well, sir, one of two things: I suppose the easiest and most obvious would be to simply cancel the trip, and the second would be to donate all of the money from it to a worthy charity or worthy charities.”

  He paused for a moment, looked at me again, and said, “Well, Mark, I can understand why you say that, but, you know, with regard to the money, when I was making motion pictures years ago, they did not pay the salaries that a lot of the actors are getting today. And I’m not a young man, and we just bought a house, so I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to build a strong financial base for my family. But even more important than that, I gave this company my word.”

  At that point, a voice inside my head said, “Game over, move on,” because I knew that when Ronald Reagan gave his word, that was it. Period. I said, “Sir, thank you for hearing me out. I understand and respect your decision and will do everything I can to minimize any negative public relations impact.” He responded with a smile and “You bet.”

  It wasn’t often necessary for me to challenge my boss, but when I did, he handled it graciously. On a different trip, the former president, some advance people, and I were in a “holding” suite in a hotel, having dinner before he was scheduled to speak. Somehow the subject of sanctions against South Africa came up, and President Reagan said that what worried him about sanctions was “that they hurt the very people we’re trying to help.” For reasons I cannot explain now, I chose to challenge him on that and said that there are those who would argue that while in the short term sanctions might negatively impact those whose lives we sought to improve, the idea was that damaging the South African economy would force its leaders to abandon apartheid. Whatever temporary pain they might cause among the general population could well lead to a revolt against the government, which would also result in abolishing apartheid. Others at the table were stone silent and avoided eye contact with either of us.

  After what seemed like an hour but was really only a few seconds, President Reagan replied by saying, “Well, that’s an interesting point. I suppose it could well be that way. I just hope that whatever we do results in all the people there being treated fairly and not on the basis of their skin color.” “Me, too,” I replied.

  My challenge regarding the Japan trip, while heard graciously, had been unsuccessful, so we began to work on a plan. We came up with several ideas: first was to schedule another foreign trip prior to his trip to Japan, so that the press could not report that “in his first overseas trip as a former president, Ronald Reagan went to Japan to collect $2 million.”

  Travel to London, Paris, and Rome was arranged. It was a trip on which there would be no paid engagements and on which he would receive multiple honors. For example, Queen Elizabeth II knighted President Reagan at Buckingham Palace, he was inducted into the prestigious Academy of Moral and Political Sciences in Paris, and he was received by Pope John Paul II in a rare private audience at Castel Gandolfo, the Pope’s summer retreat. We arranged for high-visibility media interviews on the trip, and all in all, it generated good coverage. But it was not enough to blunt criticism of the trip to Japan.

  When it came time for the Japan trip itself, we took two steps that we hoped would soften some of the edges. Working with the USO, we provided free air transportation for families of troops stationed in Japan on the airplane that Fujisankei chartered for the Reagans and their party to and from Japan. Of course, the Reagans greeted and posed for photos with all of the family members on board. And we arranged his Japan schedule so that he would participate in official governmental events before paid events, the theory being “honors before honorariums.” He received an award from the emperor and empress of Japan at the Imperial Palace and had meetings with Japanese government officials.

  But as popular as he was in Japan and as warmly received as he was during the trip, Ronald Reagan was still criticized severely in the United States for making the trip and accepting such a large fee. Oddly enough, his time in Hollywood even contributed to the controversy. He made a speech in Japan in which he criticized the US movie industry, offending a number of people in his former profession—so much so that he had to apologize in a speech in Hollywood after he returned home. I wish I had pressed harder on him to cancel the trip, even though I know that if he viewed it as a commitment to which he had given his word, there wasn’t anything anyone could have done to dissuade him from going.

  The speech in Japan was a rare instance of Reagan rebuking Hollywood, but it was not the only occasion. Another notable grievance with “the industry,” as he called it, came about because of Hellcats of the Navy. He described some of the production difficulties in Where’s the Rest of Me? by remarking that the film “could have been better than it was, except that the studio was more in love with the budget than the script.”

  The Reagans did not see eye to eye on the production of Hellcats. Many years after we watched Hellcats at Camp David, I visited Mrs. Reagan at their home in Los Angeles, and we talked about movies. Her recollections of Hellcats were much warmer than what the president had written. I asked what went through her mind that night at Camp David when she watched herself and her husband acting together on the screen.

  “I was very self-conscious, but I loved being in that picture with him. And he looked exactly the same!” she recalled.

  I said, “You both did!”

  She looked a little skeptical. “I did?”

  “Yes. Definitely.” It was true. I thought so then and still do now.

  When I asked if she had any favorite films, she gave a false grimace and said, “Oh, my.”

  I offered some suggestions—Night into Morning, Donovan’s Brain, or The Next Voice You Hear—all movies from the early 1950s, and all starring Nancy Davis.

  She laughed and said, “Oh, no. But any that Ronnie was in.” I pressed gently again for one in particular, and she gave me an answer: “Hellcats of the Navy.”

  While the world may never know how far the Reagans could have gone in Hollywood had their movie careers not ended there, the world was lucky that they changed careers, setting Reagan on the path that would lead him to the White House. More people know them as president and First Lady than would ever know them as the costars of Hellcats of the Navy. But for Ronald and Nancy, the chance to finish their careers together was a special one—a memory that Mrs. Reagan carried with her until the end.

  EPILOGUE

  March 2016

  I realized that Nancy Reagan had lived an amazing and long life, and wanted to be with her husband. She even once lamented to a former aide that she thought God had “forgotten” about her. Still, news of her death was especially sad for me, maybe even more so than when the president died in 2004. He had been ill and away for so long that his passing was “a merciful release,” as Queen Elizabeth II described it in her handwritten letter of sympathy to Mrs. Reagan. But Mrs. Reagan was “with it” until the end, and was the last remaining link to him. With both Reagans gone, a very important chapter of my life ended.

  Some members of her family referred to her funeral as “the event.” And they were right. It was very carefully staged and choreographed, in accordance with Mrs. Reagan’s wishes. But I have a feeling that calling it an event was not entirely a term of approval, at least on the part of the Reagan children, Patti and Ron. For their entire lives, they had to share their parents with the country and the world, and now, even as they said good-bye to their mother, they were forced to do so in public with hundreds of others—many of whom they
probably did not know—not to mention a television audience of millions. Ronald and Nancy Reagan made a choice that theirs would be public lives, which had to be hard on Patti and Ron. Funerals for most people are held in churches, synagogues, or funeral parlors with a small group of family and close friends in attendance. But most people were not First Lady of the United States.

  Nonetheless, the event was a wonderful tribute. I was struck by two things. First was the size of her casket. Matching that of her husband, it was quite large and impressive, but since she was neither tall nor robust, it seemed disproportionate. And, second, to hear the eulogizers speak, one might think that the Reagans did not have children. It was odd. But Patti’s and Ron’s heartfelt words more than made up for that.

  The funeral was held in a large tent at the Reagan Presidential Library in Simi Valley, and the rain held off until just before Mrs. Reagan’s casket was taken to the burial site, where she was to be laid to rest next to her husband. The irony was not lost on me. For as long as I knew her, Nancy Reagan was always worried about the weather, sometimes calling aides several times a day for updated forecasts. Once, I got one of the calls and told her optimistically, “Mrs. Reagan, it’s not that bad,” to which she replied, “Well, Mark, it’s not that good.”

  It was just drizzling when the ceremony ended, and guests were invited to pass by the casket to pay final respects. Family members and VIPs such as First Lady Michelle Obama, former president and Mrs. George W. Bush, Hillary Clinton, Rosalynn Carter, Caroline Kennedy, Tricia Nixon Cox, former Canadian prime minister Brian Mulroney, among others, went first, of course. By the time my wife and I got close, it was raining pretty heavily, and we did not have umbrellas. I turned to her and said, “If anyone would understand not standing in line in this kind of weather, it would be Nancy Reagan. Let’s go inside.” Which we did.

  As we were walking under an awning to the postceremony lunch inside the Air Force One pavilion, I ran into colleagues I had not seen in years. First was the renowned speechwriter and prize-winning columnist Peggy Noonan. We looked at each other, she said “Oh, Mark,” and we embraced. Peggy had been quite close to Mrs. Reagan in her later years. A few seconds later, I saw my friend Jon Huntsman Jr., the former Utah governor (and onetime Reagan advance man), and we shared memories of some of our Reagan travels together.