The Other Side of Me

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."

I took a deep breath. "What happened?"

"Audrey Hepburn and Shirley MacLaine read your play. They both want to do the picture."

"Willie – may problems like that continue!"

The play opens with a beautiful young psychic coming to New York because she had seen the picture of the man she knew she would marry, on the cover of Time magazine. He was a scientist about to get married to a senator’s daughter. The complications started from then on. The Army was not thrilled with one of their scientists being involved with a woman who claimed to be a psychic.

The rehearsals went well. The play opened out of town and the reviews could have been written by Natalie.

In Philadelphia: "Sidney Sheldon’s happy spoof is a source of sheer delight. Hilarious . . ."

New Haven: "Sidney Sheldon’s Roman Candle was responsible for a lot of laughter at the Shubert Theatre last night . . ."

The Journal Evening, Wilmington, Delaware: "Roman Candle, the most delightful comedy involving the armed forces we’ve seen since No Time for Sergeants . . ."

John Chapman: "Roman Candle is a jolly, joke-filled farce about our armed services and a beautiful psychic."

In every theater we played, the walls resounded with the laughter of audiences.

Audrey said, "This play is going to run forever."

I tried to control my enthusiasm. In every town we played, there were rave reviews. I kept working on the play, refining it, sharpening it. The scenes all worked beautifully. We were getting ready to go to New York. Everyone was brimming with optimism, and with good reason. We had a play that the audience loved.

It was time to open in Manhattan. We had gotten the Cort Theatre, a perfect venue for the play. The glowing out-of-town reviews had preceded us. The entertainment pages of the New York newspapers were filled with photographs of our cast and articles already proclaiming us a huge hit. Telegrams of congratulations were pouring in from family, my friends on Broadway, and in Hollywood. We were all filled with enormous excitement. We started making bets.

"I’ll bet it runs for two years," the producer said.

Audrey Wood spoke up. "With road shows, it could run for three years, maybe even four."

They turned to me. I had had too many bitter lessons. "I quit betting on the theater a long time ago," I said.

Opening night went well and the audience was appreciative. Late that night we read the early reviews.

New York Times: "Less spirited than a six-day bicycle race."

Variety: "The characters are astonishingly colorless."

New York Herald Tribune: "Don’t let me give you the impression that the show is a dud. It isn’t. Roman Candle is a mild, modest, stubborn, little show."

Q Magazine: "The actors make the Cort stage more alive and exciting than the script allows."

New York Daily News: "The plot of Roman Candle keeps moving, most but not quite all the time."

Some pundit said that a critic is someone who waits until a show in trouble opens, then goes in and shoots the wounded.

Roman Candle closed after five performances.

Soon after our closing, Lerner and Loewe went into production with their show about a psychic. It was called On a Clear Day You Can See Forever.

It was a big hit.

My agent telephoned me from Hollywood. "I’m sorry about the play."

"So am I."

"I’m afraid I have some bad news for you."

"I thought that was the bad news."

"There’s more. William Wyler has decided not to direct the movie."

That was the final blow.

It is very easy to almost have a hit play on Broadway.

Chapter 28

One day a fire broke out in a canyon near our home. If the fire spread out of the canyon, dozens of houses would have been destroyed.