Audrey said, “This is going to be a big play. Sam Spiegel called again. He’s ready to make a deal. He’s a friend of Moss Hart and Moss will direct it for him.”
I was thrilled. There was no one better.
Audrey called me again. “I have some more news for you,” she said. “William Wyler read your play and wants to direct the movie.”
William Wyler was a top director in Hollywood. Among other classics, he had directed Mrs. Miniver, Ben-Hur, The Best Years of Our Lives, and Roman Holiday. He was with the Mirisch Company, and they were going to produce the picture. They also wanted to invest in the Broadway play. I had a choice to make: Sam Spiegel and Moss Hart, or William Wyler and the Mirisch Company?
“Since Moss wants to do the play,” I told Audrey, “why don’t we have Sam Spiegel produce the play and Moss will direct it and the movie will be done by William Wyler and the Mirisch Company.”
She shook her head. “I doubt if Sam will produce the play if he can’t have the picture rights.”
“Try him,” I urged.
The following day she said, “I was right. Spiegel wants the picture rights, too. But I have a producer for you who will be great for this play. She just produced a big hit, Candide. Her name is Ethel Linder Reiner.”
I met Ethel Linder Reiner. She was in her fifties, gray-haired, and very aggressive. “I love your play,” she said. “We’re going to have a big hit.”
I had heard that Alan Lerner and Frederick Loewe had written a Broadway show about a psychic that was ready to be produced. They had put it on hold because of Roman Candle. In movies or television, a success quickly breeds imitators, but on Broadway originality is the key. Lerner and Loewe did not want to put on a show about a psychic when it had just been done by someone else. They were waiting to see how Roman Candle turned out.
I had met Alan when we were at MGM together and I liked him. He and Frederick Loewe were enormously gifted and I felt sorry that they had wasted their time and talent on a show that would never be put on.
Everyone was saying that we were going to have a big hit. With Moss Hart directing Roman Candle, it was going to be a smash.
I said to Audrey, “Will you call Moss and tell him we’re moving ahead?”
“Sure,” she said. “The sooner we get this play on, the better.”
The following day I had a meeting with Audrey Wood and Ethel Linder Reiner.
“I got a telegram from Moss,” Audrey said. She read it aloud.
“Dear Audrey, I received your ultimatum, but I am in the middle of writing an autobiography called Act One, and it will be another six months before I am finished and able to direct Sidney’s play.”
She looked up at me. “We’ll get another director.”
That was the time for me to speak up. There is no Broadway director better than Moss Hart. There is no hurry to get the play on. Let’s wait for him. But I hated confrontations. Ever since I was a small boy, listening to the bitter fights between Natalie and Otto, I had dreaded arguments. So, I nodded. “Whatever you say.”
That was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. It turned out that Ethel Linder Reiner was a dilettante. She did not understand Broadway or Hollywood. When I introduced her to William Wyler, who was going to direct the movie, she said, “I loved Sunset Boulevard,” a classic picture that of course was directed by Billy Wilder.
We started casting the play. She chose Inger Stevens, a beautiful young actress who had done some television series, and Robert Sterling and Julia Meade. The director was David Pressman, who had had very little directing experience. As the playwright, I had the right to approve the director and the casting, but I did not want to make waves. Inger Stevens and Robert Sterling flew to New York, and the rehearsals began.
William Wyler called. “Sidney, we have a problem.”