Steve McQueen - Marc Eliot [82]
Tuesday night, Midtown Manhattan was lit up like Coney Island, the streets filled with people trying to catch just a glimpse of Steve McQueen. The lavish New York premiere of The Sand Pebbles took place at one of Manhattan’s movie palace jewels, the historic Rivoli, which had the biggest screen in Manhattan at the time, due to its having been the original home of Cinerama (the 1950s version of IMAX) and then Todd-AO, which left it with a specially enhanced sound system, 70 mm screening facilities, and a Dimension 150 screen that allowed films to be shown in a larger and wider screen format. Darryl F. Zanuck, the head of Fox, specifically ordered the Rivoli for the prestigious road show presentation of The Sand Pebbles.2
Later that week, Steve and Neile were photographed attending the opera at the Met (Steve left after the first five minutes of the performance), in restaurants, entering and leaving their hotel—doing everything together except going to the bathroom and making love.
The reviews for the film were among the best Steve had ever received. While not every critic was enamored of its overlong length and somewhat cumbersome, complex plot, they all loved his performance in it. Bosley Crowther in the New York Times called it “the most restrained, honest, heartfelt acting he has ever done.” Variety declared that “Steve McQueen delivers an outstanding performance and looks the part he plays so well. Wise’s otherwise expert direction is matched by meticulous production.”
Foster now moved Steve into dozens of events designed to keep his name in the newspapers and on everyone’s lips, especially those of Academy voters. The big push was on, and everybody involved on Steve’s side meant for him to win an Oscar. Steve did his share of goodwill-building hospital visits and campus lecturing. On January 3, he appeared before film students at USC and participated in a Q-and-A, amply covered by the entertainment press.
The Sand Pebbles was nominated for eight Oscars, including one for Steve for Best Actor, an accolade he felt he was long overdue.3 On March 21, 1967, about three weeks before Oscar night and his chance at glory, Steve, enthusiastically playing the PR game, agreed to leave his handprints at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. He was the 153rd star to press his palms and fingers into cement and sign his name with a stick in front of the most famous movie house in the world (but he was the only one who put his handprints in upside down).4
To get to the ceremony he drove from Brentwood to Hollywood Boulevard in a brand-new burgundy Ferrari he had bought for himself as a reward for being nominated for an Oscar. Two thousand screaming fans were eagerly awaiting his arrival. It was a uniquely L.A. event that was broadcast all over the city on local station KTLA.
The next day, to celebrate their ten years of marriage, Steve surprised Neile with a brand-new Excalibur S3 Roadster.
DURING ALL of this Oscar excitement, Steve was trying to find the first script for Solar’s new six-film contract at Warner, but he was not having much luck. He had narrowed his choice to a few screenplays. One was The Kremlin Letter, the 103rd project he’d considered (and which Neile had actually read) since being barraged following the public announcement of the deal and the first he thought had real possibilites. What made Steve interested in The Kremlin Letter was the involvement of John Huston, a director he wanted very much to work with. What killed the deal was its projected $3 million budget, exceptionally high for a thriller, and its location. Even though this was the height of the Cold War years, Steve wanted to make the film in Moscow. When it became apparent to him that Warner was not going to let it happen, he lost interest.
Another project he liked was something called Triple Cross, a film that would co-star Yul Brynner, whose Hollywood career had faded and who was now living full-time in Europe. Despite having promised Brynner