Ron, Rudy, and Barry said, “We found who should be playing the lead in Silent Movie.”
“Who’s that?” I said.
“You!” they answered. “It’s about time you used your own god-given gifts as a born comedian.”
“I don’t know, maybe…” I thought about it for a while and then said, “Yes. I’m living with the script every day, and I know just how it should be performed and I know I can do it. But would Laddie buy me as the star who’s gonna carry the movie?”
They said, “You won’t be the only star. We have an idea.”
The idea was to cast the movie with big stars that would guarantee box office by gathering a huge audience. It was a great idea; we could write brilliant comic cameos tailored to their screen profiles.
In addition to that, I would have two really funny comedy buddies along for the ride. I decided on the always hysterically funny Dom DeLuise and the soulful and bizarrely comedic Marty Feldman. They played my sidekicks named Dom Bell and Marty Eggs, who were crammed with me into a tiny convertible yellow Morgan sports car cruising around Hollywood.
Dom, Marty, and me jammed into our little yellow Morgan sports car.
Marty’s eyes and face and his wiry build made him perfect for a silent movie. Marty was a walking sight gag. In the silent era, Ben Turpin’s crossed eyes made him immediately recognizable and put him on the cover of Life magazine. I thought Marty with his big protruding hard-boiled-egg eyes was in a way paying homage to Ben Turpin.
Dom DeLuise had the greatest reaction takes in the world. Any time something crazy happened, I just cut to Dom’s face, and it told you to laugh. It always worked.
* * *
—
The plot was simple: The three of us as a director and his two sidekicks would go on a quest to convince big stars to be in a picture that would save the studio.
We described my character, Mel Funn, on a title card that read:
Mel Funn, once Hollywood’s greatest director, till drinking destroyed his career, is trying to make a comeback. He has a brilliant idea for a new movie.
For my love interest we decided on Bernadette Peters, a multitalented Broadway star. With a brushstroke of serendipity, I had just seen her perform on Broadway as Mabel Normand, the great silent movie star in Mack & Mabel, and she was terrific. What could be more perfect? She hadn’t yet broken into film, so she was in keeping with my talent for discovering new faces. She was a triple threat and was born to be in movies.
With Bernadette Peters in a classic Silent Movie pose.
To play the head of Big Picture Studios I turned to my mentor and still one of the funniest actors in the world—the incomparable Sid Caesar. There was something very fulfilling about having Sid play the studio chief. It was an important part; the actor playing the head of Big Picture Studios had to be as funny or maybe funnier than anybody else in the movie. The role fit Sid like a glove. Not only was I sure he would nail it, but I also felt that I had found a way to pay him back for all he had done for me and his faith in me when I was an unknown kid from Brooklyn who was just starting out.
Our script was kind of a real-life script:
Mel
Don’t worry, Chief, I’ll save the studio!
I’ve got your next hit picture right here!
Chief
What is it?…A Musical? A Love Story? A Western?
Mel
It’s a SILENT MOVIE!
It can’t miss; it’s a silent movie!
* * *
—
Sid’s studio chief was just like Laddie, who nearly collapses with disappointment when he’s told that the movie we’re going to make to save the studio is a silent picture. When our characters tell him they are going to get big stars to ensure an audience, he is dubious （again just like Laddie!） but bravely goes along with it. And just like Laddie, he tells us that if we get the stars, it’s a go picture.
So it’s either art imitating life or life imitating art. I’m not sure which but I knew one thing: We had to get big stars or it was a no go.
The first one was easy: I asked my wife, Anne Bancroft, to play herself.
…At first she frightened me by saying, “Let me think about it.”
When she saw my expression, she broke into laughter and said, “Of course!”
We wrote a musical number for Anne based on the ever-popular Spanish song “Jealousy.” It was a crazy number in which Dom DeLuise does a furious flamenco tap dance on a tabletop, driving it into the floor. With Marty, Anne did an amazing thing with her eyes where she moved the right one to the center and back and then with the left one did the same. Marty followed suit with his own wild eyes. The bit really worked.