My Lucky Life in and Out of Show Business_ A Memoir - Dick Van Dyke [58]
It turned out he was stone deaf.
One day I asked if he’d ever tried a hearing aid. Grinning, he pulled out a tiny sack and let me look inside. It contained five hearing aids.
“None of them work,” he said.
“Why don’t you get them fixed?” I asked.
“Sorry,” he said. “Can’t hear you.”
From there I went straight into Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, a movie that I repeatedly turned down. Based on Ian Fleming’s only children’s novel, it’s the story of an eccentric inventor whose magical automobile is coveted by foreigners with nefarious intentions. The movie’s producer, Albert “Cubby” Broccoli, known for his tight-fisted control of the James Bond movie franchise, desperately wanted to re-team Julie Andrews and me.
I can’t speak for Julie’s reasons, but both of us turned him down. I thought the script had too many holes and unanswered questions. However, each time I said no, Cubby came back with more money. I’m talking serious money—more than seven figures, which in those days was mind-boggling, plus a percentage of the back end, which I never counted on.
I still wanted to say no, but my manager reminded me that not too many years earlier I was scrambling to win two hundred dollars on Pantomime Quiz. Although I was in a different position now, I understood—and just in case I didn’t, he let me know if I turned down this much money I was basically declaring myself officially crazy.
After one more round, I finally agreed.
In the interim, Cubby hired the remarkable Sherman brothers to write the score, as well as my favorite choreographers, Marc Breaux and Dee Dee Wood. While both additions pleased me greatly, I made one last stipulation. I didn’t want to reprise my English accent, which I’d struggled famously with in Mary Poppins. Not a problem. My character was suddenly an eccentric American inventor.
In lieu of Julie, the role of Truly Scrumptious went to another Yank, Sally Ann Howes, who truly was. From a show business family, she arrived with a long list of stellar credits, starting at age twelve when she worked with Vivien Leigh in the film Anna Karenina.
Cubby Broccoli wanted an extravaganza, as was his way, and he spent more than double what it cost to make Mary Poppins to ensure he got one. Spanning ten months, production was headquartered at London’s Pinewood Studios, but also touched down in Bavaria and the South of France. For some reason, my hair curled as soon as I arrived in London and few of the English crew even recognized me. In fact, as the film’s opening racetrack scene was shot, the assistant director walked through a crowd of extras, handing out flags they were supposed to wave as the cars passed, and he gave one to me, too.
“But I’m in the movie,” I said.
“Not yet, mate,” he replied. “But you will be if you wave that pennant when the camera is pointed at you.”
I limped through my actual opening scene, having injured myself while shooting the dance routine for the song “Toot Sweets,” an over-the-top production that took three weeks and involved an army of dancers, singers, musicians, and one hundred dogs. It was my stupidity. While trying to keep up with all the twenty-year-old dancers, I did not warm up properly and paid the price.
It turned out I had a torn calf muscle, but the doctor gave me a more serious diagnosis, arthritis. According to him, my arthritis was so pervasive that he predicted I would be in a wheelchair within five to seven years.
I did not let that bleak prognosis get in my way, but I did have to put any dancing on hold until my leg healed. The most demanding number we shot also turned out to be one of my favorites, the song “Me Ol’ Bamboo.” Marc and Dee Dee ended this exuberant dance by making us leap over our sticks and roll directly into a somersault. It looked great. But it took twenty-three takes for everyone to execute the moves correctly and at the same time.
As I did the final one, I felt my cuff catch on my heel. I thought, Uh-oh, and pushed through with all my