Cy Feuer was at the center of these creations, as well as the films based on two of Broadway's most exceptional musicals, Cabaret and A Chorus Line. He was the man in charge, the one responsible for putting everything together, and -- almost more important -- for holding it together.
Now, at age ninety-two, as Cy Feuer looks back on the remarkable career he had on Broadway and in Hollywood, the stories he has to tell of the people he worked with are fabulously rich and entertaining.
- There's Bob Fosse, a perfectionist with whom Feuer did battle over the filming of the movie Cabaret.
- There's Frank Loesser, the brilliant and explosive composer of Guys&Dolls, Where's Charley?, and How to Succeed...
- There's Liza Minnelli, star of both the movie Cabaret and the Broadway musical The Act, whose offstage activities threatened to disrupt the show.
- There's the contentious George S. Kaufman, the librettist and director whose ego was almost as great as his talent.
Add to the list such glamorous figures as Cole Porter, Julie Andrews, Abe Burrows, Gwen Verdon, John Steinbeck, Martin Scorsese, and George Balanchine, and you have a sense of the unbeatable cast of characters who populate this fabulous story of a young trumpet player from Brooklyn who became musical director for the Republic Pictures film studio, then feverishly tackled Broadway, back when "putting on a show" did not require the support of major corporations, and when dreams of overnight success really did have a chance of coming true.
Funny, witty, and immensely entertaining, I Got the Show Right Here is a treat for anyone who loves show business, a story wonderfully told by one of Broadway's greatest and most talented producers.
|Publisher:||Simon & Schuster|
|Sold by:||SIMON & SCHUSTER|
|File size:||4 MB|
About the Author
Cy Feuer, who will never retire, is today the Chairman of the Board of The League of American Theaters & Producers. He lives in Manhattan with his wife, Posy.
Read an Excerpt
I'm five feet five. Not what you would describe as a giant. I used to be taller. But that's what happens when you hit ninety. You lose some bone mass. You also lose some memory. And you lose all your friends. All the people who knew you when you were putting together what have become classic Broadway shows -- Guys & Dolls, Where's Charley?, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, Can-Can, Silk Stockings... They're all dead, the people who remember me as five feet seven. A really big man.
I'm not complaining. Yeah, well, maybe I am. My wife, Posy, and I think of ourselves as being alone on an island. Where the hell did everyone go? Frank Loesser's gone, and Abe Burrows and George Abbott and Billy Rose and Cole Porter and Bob Fosse and Ray Bolger and Ernie Martin. Especially Ernie. He was my partner. He knew the story. And it's a pretty good story, how I got to be a big-shot Broadway producer. There's nobody left who knows the whole story, not even me.
It's not like you have a whole, fully wound memory that unspools when you try to let it play. It's more like a broken reel. Scenes pop up on the screen, incidents float loose in changeable decades -- I don't know when the hell some things happened. I remember playing sandlot polo in Hollywood, but was that before the war? When was I in Paris with Fosse trying to sign up Max Schell, was that during Kennedy? When did Sam Goldwyn stand by the barbecue pit, posing with that mitt on his hand, making believe he was cooking, when the butler really handled the food? Was that after he bought Guys & Dolls?
It's work, getting it all straight.
There's one moment during the day when I almost get it right. Every night I get drunk. At my age, it only takes one drink. I really look forward to that drink. I used to favor wine, flattering myself that I could appreciate bouquet and all the rest; now I find that I like the taste of whiskey. I sip it, sit back, and feel the blood rush through my head, blowing away the dust, clearing it up...
Copyright © 2003 by Cy Feuer and Ken Gross