And Here’s to YOU, Larry Turman

 

The passing of Hollywood producer Lawrence Turman at age 96 has, I’m glad to say, not gone unnoticed. Turman produced 42 films, directed two, and spent the last three decades of his life teaching his trade to graduate students as the head of  the Peter Stark Producing Program at USC. I got to know him while researching Seduced by Mrs. Robinson, my 2017 book on the long-term impact of Turman’s best-known film, The Graduate. Released in 1967, The Graduate was a worldwide smash that briefly catapulted the then-41-year-old Turman into the top ranks of Hollywood players.  He enjoyed the notoriety, but hardly let it go to his head. The man I first met at his USC office in 2007 was both cordial and feisty. Above all, I quickly recognized him as a straight-shooter.

 This became clear  when our chat turned to the topic of Larry’s directorial debut. His goal was to bring to the screen another racy comedy by the original author of The Graduate, Charles Webb. But The Marriage of a Young Stockbroker (1971) turned out to be a disappointment, one for which he now blames himself.  Comparing Dustin Hoffman, whose career was launched with The Graduate,  to the young actor he cast in Stockbroker, Larry admitted, “There’s a reason Dustin Hoffman is a movie star and Richard Benjamin is not. Dustin is vulnerable and likable; Richard Benjamin, wonderful guy and a wonderful actor, he comes across on screen as brittle, cold, distant.” He now admits to having made, among many other errors, an unfortunate casting choice.

 While exploring the papers on the making of The Graduate in Larry Turman’s archives,  I was surprised to come across glossy photos of what looked to be a stag party. The men in the film’s cast and crew, perched on folding chairs, were being cozily entertained by two cuties wearing high heels, bikini bottoms, and nothing else. When I asked Larry about the circumstances, he sniffed, “If they had that party, they didn’t invite me, the producer.” That’s when I pulled out a photo, and he expressed surprise, “That’s me on Mike Nichols’ left.” An audition? I strongly doubt it.

 Larry’s 2005 book, So You Want to be a Producer, lays out in clear-cut terms what it takes to succeed in his field. But he cautions aspirants against being overly ego-driven. Case in point: some years back he saw an announcement of a Motion Picture Academy screening of The Graduate, with director Mike Nichols as the evening’s honored guest. Wrote Larry, “No mention of me whatsoever. If you’ve read this far, you know I think the world of Mike, but The Graduate exists as a film only because of me. So you want to be a producer?”

 Fortunately for me, I’d rather be a writer than a producer. And Larry was enormously helpful to me in clarifying why and how The Graduate was made. We did some jockeying over interpretations: I refused to accept that Katharine Ross’s character, the lovely Elaine Robinson, remains passive throughout. (After all, she comes to Ben’s Berkeley rooming house at midnight demanding to be kissed.) On the other hand, I learned something important: that although The Graduate seemed remarkably timely to college students in 1967, the thinking throughout the production was that the story took place circa 1963. (Hence, no Vietnam reference at all.)

When my book came out, I invited Larry to lunch as a thank-you, and afterwards received an email I cherish: “Lunch was very enjoyable and even enlightening.  Thank you again for initiating it.  You’re formidable.”

 So were you, Larry. So were you.