
Harry's Story (plus some Sal)
By the summer of 1971, Harry Crane was ready to move on from the ad game. He had spent enough time at the edges of the Hollywood scene to convince himself that he could make a go of it as an independent producer. If nothing else, he believed he had excellent insight into the huge youth market. And there were so many young (but legal!) girls…. His divorce from Jennifer was proving to be ugly and expensive. But he was confident that it would all work out. He took meetings with Roger Corman and Joseph E. Levine. His plan: start out like Corman, churning out cheapies for the kids, and maybe someday turn into Levine, who had gone from Grade-Z Westerns to producing The Graduate and The Producers. The studio system was dead, after all.
Late one night, Harry was enjoying a patty melt at Ben Frank’s on the Sunset Strip. To his surprise, he saw a familiar face a couple of booths away. It was his old Sterling Cooper colleague Sal Romano. He felt bad about how things had ended for Sal. He had heard a few rumors about him back in NYC…a divorce…moved out West…somehow still working in advertising? Maybe he just came out here for the chicks. As always, Sal was dressed well, in a checked sports jacket and a burgundy silk shirt. He was sitting with a handsome young man with blonde hair, dressed in a fringe jacket and bell bottoms.
Despite their history, Sal was happy to see him after so many years. He had come to see leaving Sterling Cooper as the best thing that ever happened to him. Sal had established a successful career working for an independent production company. His bread-and-butter was producing TV and radio ads for regional retailers. Agencies had learned that nobody was better than Sal at selling “The California Dream” to middle-class housewives. He had directed a few episodes of forgettable sitcoms and Westerns. This career paid for a comfortable apartment in West Hollywood, a used Mercedes, and a discreet gay life. (Months later, Sal explained to Harry that the young man was his boyfriend). He was a “bachelor” in the office but had a circle of showbizzy gay friends, who had regular parties on the weekends. (He would later say that the most exciting moment of his life was the evening he went to Rock Hudson’s house). He had established a reputation as a dependable pro, but Sal’s dreams of directing a feature were going nowhere.
After an hour of conversation, Harry explained to Sal his plan to become an independent producer specializing in the youth market. Would he like to direct? It didn’t sound like the musicals or romantic comedies that Sal most loved, but he jumped at the opportunity. His boyfriend Ernie Ingram was a former child star from an old Hollywood family who was able to give Harry some advice about setting up the company.
While Harry and Sal never became friends, they saw each other as useful. Sal knew that the day of the “studio hand” was gone. He was too square to become part of the “New Hollywood” scene. This might be his one chance to direct a feature. Harry liked that Sal was a first-time director – so he would work cheap – and when he asked around, he found that Sal had an “on-time” and “under-budget” reputation.
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