"How To Live Forever" by Sumwon Hoohaz & Carl Reiner is available free when you purchase a copy of "Too Busy To Die."
Carl Reiner tells Conan O'Brien how to get his new book "How to Live Forever" free of charge.
"Carl Reiner, Now You're 94"
Comedy legend Carl Reiner returned to the Paul Harris Show to talk about his new graphic diary, "Carl Reiner, Now You're 94," as well as some other highlights of his career and life: His memories of the late Mary Tyler Moore; Working with Alan Arkin on "The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming"; Working with director Norman Jewison on that movie and "The Thrill Of It All"; Why he cast George Burns and John Denver in "Oh, God!"; How he managed to work on movies at the same time he was running "The Dick Van Dyke Show"; That time he and his wife stayed in the Lincoln Bedroom at the White House. Listen, then click here to subscribe to the Paul Harris Show podcasts via iTunes!
Carl Reiner talks to Tavis Smiley about falling down the stairs at ninety-five-years-old. Carl delivers a public service about why he was not hurt by showing us his morning stretches.
Legendary filmmaker and television icon Carl Reiner confesses his secret feelings about Trump to Tavis Smiley. To watch the interview in its entirety, tune in to PBS this Friday, March 31, 2017. Check your local TV listings. Visit our website at http://www.pbs.org/tavis for more interviews.
He's fine, but Carl fell down the stairs this morning and the first thing he thought of was Conan. More CONAN @ http://teamcoco.com/video Team Coco is the official YouTube channel of late night host Conan O'Brien, CONAN on TBS & TeamCoco.com.
Carl Reiner tells Conan O'Brien how he fell down the steps. Carl attributes the fact that he didn't get hurt to his daily morning exercises depicted in his book "Carl Reiner, Now You're Ninety-Four;" and tells how you can get your own personalized version of this book.
Had I not been honored by America Cinematique, I might never have remembered this darling story I am now in the process of typing. At a book signing event, which took place before a screening of“The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming,” I had a question an answer session. One of the questions asked was about the film we had just screened.
“The Russians Are Coming” holds a very special place in my heart, as it came about at a time when I was nearing the end of my rewarding five year stint as the creator-producer of“The Dick Van Dyke Show.”
There were still four more episodes to mount when I received a call from Norman Jewison, a film director who wanted to discuss something he thought would interest me.
The following day, while seated in my living room, Norman told me of a wonderful script written by Bill Rose and the note Bill had sent about the casting of this film it read, “If there is a God, Carl Reiner will play the part of Rozanov, a Russian sailor.”
I was flattered and had not the character been described as a Russian, I might have jumped at it, but instead I explained to Norman Jewison that I had no interest in playing another Russian accented character. I had done fake double-talking Russian with Sid Caesar on “Your Show Of Shows” and just last week I played a Russian artist on “The Dick Van Dyke Show.” I loved doing it. The episode, entitled “October Eve” and I played a Russian artist, Serge Carpenter who painted a nude portrait ofLaura Petrie (Mary Tyler Moore) that she intended as a birthday gift for her husband. When posing, she wore her dance leotards, but the artist’s creative mind envisioned Laura nude and that’s how he painted her. (Great show–I recommend you find it and watch it.)
Norman accepted my reason and left, but returned the following day to offer me another role, a role I could not refuse–the male lead opposite Eva Marie Saint! Yes, The Eva Marie Saint, who, had co-starred with The Marlon Brando and The Cary Grant would now have me as her leading man!
Which brings me back to the American Cimemateque event and the memory that was evoked by a question I was asked about “The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming,” the only picture in which I was given star billing.
The woman wanted to know if there was any special memory I had about the shooting of that film, and I recalled something that had nothing to do with the making of the film. My memory was about an outdoor lunch I had while on location in Mendacino California, and it happened while seated at a long, wooden table.
While chatting with Alan Arkin, who, by the way won an Academy Award for playing Rozanov, I happened to glance at Eva just as she was about to take a sip of wine from a paper cup. I shouted, “Eva, don’t, there is a bee on the rim!” but Eva did and the bee did what bees do!
She let out a howl, and to calm her while I examined her lower lip, I joked, “You know, for snake bites, someone must immediately suck out the venom– it should also work for bee bites. I’ll do that if you like.”
I saw that the bee had left his stinger in her lower lip, and quickly plucked it out. There was no swelling and luckily no after effects.
I told the woman who had asked the question about “The Russians Are Coming” that the little incident I described, I had once used as a very satisfying denouement to an episode I had written for “Good Heavens,” a short lived 1976 series which I had produced and hired myself to play the starring role.
In the series, I played an Angel who rewards an individual for having done an unsolicited good deed. I would grant the good Samaritan one wish and when that wish was fulfilled I would disappear and the do-gooder would have no memory of ever having met an Angel.
I recall but a few of the stories from “Good Heavens,” but I do remember the one in which my son Rob played the ‘good soul’ whose wish was to become a baseball player–and I, his angelic father, had the pleasure of granting him his wish.
The pleasant memory that nudged itself into my head when asked about “The Russians Are Coming” was one that involved the thirteenth and final episode of“Good Heavens.”
It starred Loretta Swit and Clu Gulager who played lovers that were destined to be mated but their predilection for quarreling threatened to end their romance.
In the last scene, they are in their trailer about to embark on a trip, when they become involved in a heated argument. I had written the script but had not found a way to stop them from arguing, until Eva Marie Sainte’s bumble bee popped into my head.
I shouted to Clu and Loretta the idea I had. They were to continue with their dialogue but beaware that a bee entered their trailer-- and I would supply the sound of a buzzing bee.
In a long shot, while they were arguing and swatting at the buzzing interloper, Loretta acted as if the bee had stung her lower lip. After Clu removed the stinger, I had him say to Loretta the line I said to Eva Marie, “You know, for poisonous snake bites, someone must immediately suck out the venom, it should also work for bee bites. “I’ll do that if you like.”
We then had a closeup of Loretta’s fingers holding out her lower lip for Clu to suck, which he does in earnest. After a proper amount of suck time, the two begin feeling amorous–glance into each other’s eyes, then slowly rotate their lips into a position where their tongues can properly French kiss--- as we went in for a tight close up.
Look for this chapter below in Carl Reiner's latest memoir "Too Busy To Die" explaining how he got the role as Saul Bloom.
One of the exciting things about being in show business is that, at any time, and usually when you are least expecting it, something will drop from nowhere, and offer a challenge that you’d be a fool not to take. The something that dropped from nowhere was really a someone, Jerry Weintraub, a persuasive, dogged, charming, soft spoken, master of benign bullshit and one helluva producer.
Until Jerry rang my doorbell on this Saturday night at 11:45 PM, and disturbed an interesting discussion that my wife and I were having with our friends, I had not seen Jerry Weintraub since “Oh, God!”, the film he produced and I directed twenty years earlier. My first thought was that his car had stalled and he needed a phone, but it turned out that all he needed was me. His new film, “Ocean’s 11,” was going into production and he was searching for someone to play “Saul Bloom,” one of the gang of eleven.
Jerry, being as honest as he needs to be in order to function successfully, did not say that he had come to me because I was the perfect actor for the role. He told me that he had found the perfect actor, Alan Arkin, but Alan had a conflict. Alan had gone to the hospital to undergo minor surgery to repair something that needed repairing. If Jerry could have delayed the film’s start, he would not have dropped by. Ever the gentleman, Jerry stayed only long enough to hand me a script, recite the names of the extraordinary cast and director, and apologize for the intrusion.
Many things about the offer pleased me and first among the many was Alan Arkin being cast. Alan and I share a pleasant history that started with his playing a fictionalized version of me in the play “Enter Laughing,” and continued with our playing roles in “The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming”, and in the recent past, playing his older brother in “The Slums of Beverly Hills.” As an added connection, my wife, in her night club act, sings Alan Arkin’s romantically-humorous love song, “I Like You.” The words and music of“I Like You” are:
The things that pleased me most about the projected remake of “Ocean’s 11” was the quality of the script, the juiciness of my role and the actors with whom I’d be working. They were not only talented, but genuine stars who attracted huge crowds whenever they dared to go out in public, and who, I soon learned, were all funsters.
The film was to be shot in Las Vegas and, for one month, I’d be required to live in a suite at the Bellagio and would be paid a salary generous enough to make me feel wanted. George, who played Danny Oceans, the leader of the pack of thieves, was also a major force in convincing all of his star friends that the fun and excitement of working with him, each other and director Steven Soderberg, made it worth accepting less money than they ordinarily would be paid.
During the course of the first few work days, I had the opportunity to perform with, lunch with, and chat with:
I did not include Julia Roberts in the impressive list of stars I met, because we never did meet or were even introduced. She didn’t work in any of the scenes I was in and unfortunately our paths never crossed, although they came close to crossing when she came out of an elevator in the lobby of the Bellagio to play a scene with Andy Garcia. However, on my way to lunch I did meet her and siezed the opportunity to tell her how absolutely magnificent she was in the film portraying Erin Brockovich.
Being twice as old as every member in the company except Elliot Gould, of whom I was only a third older, I didn’t get to hang with the guys. They all possessed superhuman ability to get up early, shoot all day, play hard-driving basketball between takes, and be up for long evenings of partying. I used most of my energy to eat, learn my lines, and go to bed. Luckily, I had enough energy to pose for this treasured cast photograph.
One of the lovely things about being in a good movie with good people is the residual good feelings that remain long after the movie’s on DVD. I love reading about and rooting for all of their individual successes in films, marriages, love affairs and in aiding good causes. In the case of“Ocean’s 11,” which was a huge hit, there is also the positive feedback you get from young people, who might not be old enough to have seen you do your thing when it was easier for you to do your thing.
Time, you know, chooses its targets carefully. With red wine, certain cheeses or ancient architecture, the wearing of years adds a richness of depth and a uniqueness of flavor that allows them to stand out as superior to a fresh bottle of newly-laid plonk served with Velveeta on crackers in an American-Soviet high rise box. Less fortunately, that simply smashing shirt or skirt you bought in 1986 now makes you look like a windmill on a miniature golf course. No, clothes don’t age well and neither do television sets, hairlines or memoirs.
Oh, that’s right. Memoirs do not age well, particularly les romans à clef with their leads and surrounding characters hidden by disguises as flimsy as Superman’s curl or Clark Kent’s eyeglasses. The joy of them becomes their fatal flaw. We all enjoy a good old game of, ‘I Know Who That Is!’ as that cheating poet with the roguish curls and lust for battle can only be Lord Byron. And if you did not recognize that reference to Lady Caroline Lamb’s 1816 novel Glenarvon, don’t feel too badly for no one else has read it for pleasure in the last century and a half. They lose their potency. Supporting characters who had achieved a certain notoriety and thus were worth spotting like Easter eggs or buried truffles descend first into trivia and then into inconsequentiality.
And yet, some do survive and even improve over time, the rare few that beat the odds like Cary Grant’s looks or an antique watch. There’s Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises for one, Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night or Dominick Dunne’s re-casting of the Woodward murder in The Two Mrs. Grenvilles. One must not forget either Dorothy Parker’s Big Blonde which is the story of its author’s descent into alcoholism. Any or all can be read and enjoyed with absolutely no inkling of who the hell Gerald and Sara Murphy were or what a Belair Stud is. (It was a horse ranch darling, not a gigolo.)
For a roman à clef to have a life beyond the immediate party game, it absolutely must have two qualities going for it. As a novel, it must have a richness of story that just happens to coincidentally involve some notable celebrities or other newsworthy figures. And of course, it better be bloody well-written.
For those two reasons, I equally love and admire Vicki Abelson’s Don’t Jump. Yes, it took me a while to get around to saying that, but great books like great stage actresses deserve a proper entrance.
What I found most incredible about Don’t Jump is how it has grown. Full disclosure: I read an earlier draft of Don’t Jump three years ago or so. I had ‘intermet’ Vicki Abelson because of my admiration for her fantastic book salon held at her home in Los Angeles, Women Who Write. At the time, I thought her manuscript was more than publishable in its current form. It was sharp, it was funny, it told the story well of Andi, a nice Jewish girl from New York who existed as a close observer of the music and television scene through the 1980s and 90s while never quite making it to stardom herself. I told Vicki, ‘Keep at it and you will find a publisher.’
We then flash forward and what I have just read is a complete, rich, wonderful novel. Yes I know who the musicians are, the athlete is and the talk show host. They scarcely matter. Andi herself has matured within her book. She is a perfectly articulated portrait of a woman who seeks identity in the world of entertainment; a world where no one is ever quite who they proclaim to be. Stars you know are like real stars; the closer you get to their center the more likely it is you will be burnt to a crisp. That bitter truth leads Andi into an addiction to marijuana. If reality sucks, change the channel.
Now, I expect some shrill criticism of Vicki Abelson for writing about a marijuana addiction, to which I can only say shut up. People can become addicted to anything – booze, smokes, salt n’ vinegar chips, chocolate, shoes, porcelain hippos, cars, sex and yes weed too. Andi’s marijuana also came mixed into a nasty goulash of addictions to love and, when all else fails, food. So leave the correct politics at the door.
Don’t Jump explores every corner and does so in smooth, flowing language. To quote one passage, when Andi rushes home after an afternoon tryst, she writes:
‘Slowing as I got to my corner, I tried to casually stroll into the building. Smiling at Nick, the afternoon guy, I ran to the elevator to try to beat Frank home. As I approached the door of the apartment I listened for a second. When I didn’t discern any sound, I quickly unlocked the door, immediately double locking it behind me. Throwing off my clothes, I pushed them low in the hamper, well under the mounds of more recent wear. Jumping in the shower, I scrubbed myself silly, quickly blow- dried my hair and the mirror to hide my recent activity. Since when did I shower before dinner?’
Don’t Jump is also wonderfully funny, with the humor coming, as all the best humor does, from the characters placed in awkward, believable situations and not from jokes laid in with a staple gun. It is not at all dissimilar to Carrie Fisher’s Postcards From the Edge and forty years has been way too long a wait for someone to come along who can write in that outside/insider mode. That said, Vicki Abelson can fire off a punchline like a rifle shot. ‘If I was going to hell, I was going down in a blaze of horny.’ I laughed out loud at that one and trust me, I am one lousy audience when it comes to comedy.
Ultimately then, Don’t Jump is a delicious roman à clef a la Carrie Fisher, with the emotional honesty and deft writing of a modern Dorothy Parker. It has an intelligence without snobbery, a wit beyond crudity, a sensitivity without preachiness … and is funny as all hell.
About Random Content
Random Content is a Los Angeles publishing / digital production company comprised of graphic designers, filmmakers, editors, and development minds. Random Content is an ideas machine where collaboration has produced award-winning results since 1994. Random Content breaks new ground in iBook production, branded content, interactive and broadcast. Founder/EP/Director Lawrence O’Flahavan have assembled a team whose experience in strategy, marketing, design and technology creates engaging new ways to tell stories in every possible medium. From digital initiatives to groundbreaking apps, we work with our partners to conceive, produce and distribute memorable entertainment.
Carl Reiner's new book "Why & When The Dick Van Dyke Show was Born" will becoming out in October... We are so proud at Random Content Publishing of this book. We were honored to be involved in a project that is so close to Carl's creative being. This book is about the creating and maintaining a TV series for 5 wonderful seasons. The book contains two scripts in fact the original scripts came from Carl's Smith Corona typewriter. The scripts were carefully scanned and placed at the end of the book. You will see how the very first original script he wrote called "Head of the Family" was changed to "The Dick Van Dyke Show." The script went from a single camera to a three camera situation comedy to be shot at Desilu Studios. Carl wrote the first 59 epodes by himself... This book is about the episodes that he wrote and how they were lifted from his life. He has always told young writers to write what they know... He maintains an amazing daily writing schedule and enjoys creating daily tweets. Carl's twitter handle is @carlreiner... As of today Aug.24, 2015 he has 96.6K followers... Please watch the very funny short clip with Carl and James Corden... Carl has received The Mark Twain Award... 12 Emmys and 6 of those were for "The Dick Van Dyke Show" and he is only 93 years old.
Today at the London Book Fair, Carl Reiner, American actor and comedian, working with Random Content Publishing announced his new book "The Secret Treasure of Tahka Paka." He also has announced a partnership with Zappar, a leader in augmented reality experiences. The new book will contain Zappable augmented reality content throughout, bringing the story to life. The book, which launches on April 22.
By using Zappar’s free smartphone and tablet app, children and parents are able to zap pages, jumping into the tale alongside key characters Cark and Carla on their adventure through the magical island of Tahka Paka. Readers will experience battling pirates and ancient curses whilst journeying through hidden caves and tunnels to find the secret treasure buried deep in island.
As part of a wider initiative to encourage more traditional industries to consider technology which can improve consumer experiences, Max Dawes, Partnerships Director at Zappar, presented at the London Book Fair on how augmented reality can truly add value and compliment the printed product for publishers. ‘The Secret Treasure of Tahka Paka’ was at the heart of this.
Max Dawes commented: “We’re so pleased to be working alongside Carl and Random Content on their latest story. Augmented reality is brilliant way to add a new dimension to storytelling. We hope the book will encourage shared time with families to help children bond and engage through reading.”
She has the chops of a writer and artist, one who has chosen to devote her career to the care of her patients as a psychoanalyst in private practice. A psychoanalyst whose focus is on early childhood.
Who better to write books for children?
Early childhood is a particularly vulnerable time, a time when each child's view of her or himself is a tender seed, with the roots of a lifetime at stake. What a wonderful advantage when a beautiful children's book appears to help the young child at these tender growing moments!
Both books, I Am Lilly and Penelope's Pearls, are lean in length, yet deep and resonant in their ability to communicate the often nonverbal longings of children.
What fun they are and how artfully presented.
Here we have an infusion of art and words woven with exquisite tenderness. The voice of each book is the voice of an angel beckoning the child to come close enough to enter this most intimate conversation about having a true self.
Annie Reiner's visual art is as vivid and alive as her writing. Shall I talk about the illustrations in her two new books for children? She could have an entire career as an illustrator. No, I won't spoil that for you, the introduction to the twinkle dance of Annie's art.
But I will tell you about her stories.
I Am Lilly is the story of a child's seeking a beginning, primitive answer to the question, "Who Am I?" Lilly, our heroine, perfectly expresses a child's longing to have adult abilities beyond the strict limitations of being a child. This fundamental theme of every small child's life, as we see in Lilly's quest, s written with heart-melting patience and jolly humor.
One can imagine a mother or father reading these pages in seriousness to a giggling, delighted child.
"Of course I'm not Grandpa!"
"Or you, Dad!"
If only Lilly's quandary and resolution could be every child's free, undisturbed central focus.
Penelope's Pearls is a lyrical verse about feeling afraid and "cold," which all children at times are likely to feel. The book articulates a child's pain and fear of being unloved, alone, forgotten, abandoned.
Penelope, our heroine, is the smallest penguin in the South Pole. Because Penelope is a penguin, she is supposed to be like all the other penguins who are used to the freezing cold.
Aren't we all supposed to be copies of one another as children?
Don't we all grow up wanting to belong?
Penelope is different from the others. She is constantly freezing, seeking warmth and dreaming of being in Hawaii. Reiner has created many a perfect metaphor in Penelope's Pearl's.
It is a classic.
These books are so charming that it is a safe bet that parents will find themselves inhaling Reiner's message. After all, there are patches of unfinished psychological business in all of us.
These are stories about not just finding and loving the self, but delighting in being alive. Delight in the adult experience can be seen as a highly suspicious position, a lack of control.
Here are stories for the parent as well as the child.
The world is hungry for love.
Hurray for these books that provide children a road home.
-Dr. Cheryl Pappas
PURCHASE YOUR COPIES OF "I AM LILLY" & "PENELOPE'S PEARLS" EXCLUSIVELY AT RANDOM CONTENT.
ABOUT THE BOOK Lilly is a little girl impatient to grow up. Pretending to
be big, however, creates complications as her imagination runs away with her.
Behind the fanciful verse of I AM LILLY is an important message about how children develop a sense of self. The discovery of who we are begins in the hearts and minds of children, and in changing times like ours, that inner foundation becomes even more essential.
I AM LILLY presents these ideas about identity in a playful way reminiscent of Dr. Seuss. As a psychoanalyst and poet as well as author/illustrator, Annie Reiner illuminates this process of growth in a book that is fun for children and adults. Her unique paper cut-out illustrations add child-like spontaneity and humor to Lilly’s journey.
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Carl Reiner and Jimmy Fallon demoed the augmented reality features of Carl's new children’s book The Secret Treasure Of Tahka Paka on NBC’s The Tonight Show with the Zappar app. This was the first time mainstream audiences were exposed to augmented reality on a major US network.
The story sees a family visit a tropical island where they experience hidden caves, tunnels, crypts, ancient curses, pirates and a secret treasure that will benefit all of us.
To have the same experience Carl had on the show, download the Zappar app onto your device and zap the image below.
During his book signing, Carl Reiner entertained a packed house at Larry Edmunds Bookshop. The event quickly morphed from Carl relaying stories from the book to a true conversation with the audience. Jeff Mantor, owner of Larry Edmunds Bookshop, presented Carl with a cake resembling the cover of his memoir "I Just Remembered" for his 93rd birthday. However, no one ate cake, because Carl loved the decorated cake so much that he didn't want to cut into it.
Carl Reiner sings one of his favorite songs "That Tumble Down Shack In Athlone" acapella during a recording session for "The Family Guy." Find out the story behind the song in Chapter Fourteen of his bio "I Just Remembered."
Most people would find it hard to believe that Brando Newman, the central male character of this epic tale, was but twenty years old when he went from being a sad, lost soul to a happy, bonafide celebrity. Some consider Brando Newman to be the luckiest man alive and others, the unluckiest.
How lucky would you say was a man who is the sole surviving sibling in his family? Two of Brando’s brothers, Sean and Redford, were the first to go and his older sisters, Sandra and Brigitte, passed away the following day. During that short, fateful period, four of the Newman sextuplets had breathed their last breaths. It was a heartbreaking morning for their mother, Ava Newman, and for their father, Adam Pafko, her soon to be husband, whose divorce papers from his first wife had just been signed.
It was also a sad day for the hard working attendants in the nursery at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. All were tearful when Liam, the fifth sextuplet, had to be taken off the life-support system.
Their Dad was saddened by the loss but their mother was inconsolable. For nine months, two hundred and seventy long days, Ava had proudly and with great discomfort carried six growing embryos in her womb. For the last four months of her pregnancy, while confined to her bed, Ava read every old and new book about the care and raising of infants–from Doctor Benjamin Spock’s “Baby And Child Care” and Magaret Ribble’s “The Rights Of Infants”to the recently published “Baby 411” by Denise Field and Ari Brown.
From the catalogues strewn on her bed, Ava had ordered six cribs, blue and pink sleepwear, dozens of blankets and sheets, six ceiling mobiles, six rubber ducks and a boxful of pacifiers. She had promised herself to do everything in her power to be the best possible mother to her six babies.
Now that all but one were gone, the love, dedication and hands-on mothering that Ava was prepared to give to her six babies, she would hereafter lavish on her only child, Brando.
Being aware of his future wife’s plan, Adam promised that he would do all in his power to help her raise their child in the manner she had outlined.
The two doting parents were an unbeatable team and their giggly infant was the recipient of the best kind of loving care. All went swimmingly for the family until one hot summer’s day when Adam dove into their backyard pool and swam three fast laps before suffering a fatal heart attack. This tragic event aborted the chance for Adam to give his son legitimacy.
From that day forward, Ava Newman channeled all her time, energy and love into the raising of the last living member of her bastard brood.
As Brando grew, Ava pointed out to her son how ephemeral life was and because no one could know how long they would live, she suggested that Brando become involved only in pursuits that would bring him joy, real honest-to-goodness joy!
Fortunately, there were two things in Brando’s life that made it possible for him to take her suggestion to heart. The one thing he would never have to worry about was making a living, as his Dad bequeathed to him an enormous fortune. He now had millions in real estate and cold, hard cash but sadly, no legitimate surname.
As for Brando pursuing something that gave him real joy, there would not be a problem. In all the world there was but one endeavor that, if he successfully completed, would doubtlessly provoke a great big smile on his handsome face–a smile so broad that it would ricochet through his body and bring him the kind of unbridled joy his mother dreamed that one day would be his.
To many, it may seem puerile that such unabashed joy could be engendered simply by his succeeding in doing something he had attempted every day since he had learned to read--fill in all the empty boxes in every crossword puzzle printed every day in the daily and weekend editions of the Los Angeles Times and New York Times.
Of late, to challenge himself, Brando has been pain-stakingly completing the New York Times puzzles on his old Smith Corona typewriter.
Knowing how much joy her son would have if he could solve the crossword puzzles in foreign languages, Ava Newman searched out and hired language professors to teach Brando how to read and write French, Italian, Spanish, Russian, Romanian, Hungarian, Polish, Japanese, Chinese, Dutch, Slovak, Irish, Scottish, Portuguese, Yiddish and Farsi –and to good avail!
It was reported that after filling in the last square of the Sunday edition of the Farsi crossword puzzle, the smile that exploded on Brando’s face was so radiant that his flashing teeth were visible to the astronauts who were manning the international station in outer space.