Dan's Papers - February 15, 2008

Roy Scheider of Sag Harbor died last Sunday at the age of 75. He was a wonderful man with a great sense of humor and a love of acting, and he leaves behind many memories, some from others noted in the quotes at the end of this article. Mine comes in the form of an interview I had with him and his wife some years ago at the Candy Kitchen in Bridgehampton.

Roy Scheider bought a house in the Hamptons on the recommendation of his wife Brenda.

"It was in 1988," Scheider said. "We had just gotten married and she said I know this beautiful place you should lease a house for the summer. And she went and leased a house in Sagaponack. Then she brought me out to see it. And I fell in love with this area."

"I'd been coming out to the Hamptons since the early 1970s," Brenda said. "I had shares in summer houses in Amagansett back then."

"Where are you from originally?" I asked.

"Buffalo." We are sitting, Brenda and Roy Scheider and I, at a table in the Bridgehampton Candy Kitchen. It is nine o' clock on a Saturday morning.

"The birth of our son changed things a great deal for me," Roy said. "Our plan had been to settle in Manhattan and we were in the process of decorating an apartment. But the more we came out here the more we thought, why do we have to be in Manhattan? So we sold our very expensive apartment at a loss. And have been full-time residents here ever since."

Roy Scheider is perhaps best known in these parts as the star of the movie Jaws, a film fashioned after a book set in the Hamptons. But he also has had two Oscar nominations, one for The French Connection and the other for All That Jazz.

Scheider was born and raised in Maplewood, New Jersey, the son of a German immigrant who owned a gas station. He had a difficult childhood. A fat kid, he was the last chosen for anything and, in order to avoid being picked on, either had to run fast or be funny.

"I couldn't run fast," he said. "But I could do impressions of practically every actor in Hollywood by the time I was ten."

His home life as a young boy was not a happy one. In particular, he felt that his father was extremely critical of him. And so it was that when he went to Franklin and Marshall College in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, he was in absolute heaven. A professor, Daryl Larson, who ran the theatre department there, encouraged him to act, told him he was talented and that if he worked at it he could by very good.

"Franklin and Marshall was a college for men back then. So we did plays that were easily done without a lot of women actors - Coriolanus, Mr. Roberts, Darkness at Noon, Billy Budd. What few women we needed came from town. Townies. With this encouragement, I absolutely fell in love with theatre and for three years running won the actors award, the MVP that was given out at Franklin and Marshall. When I graduated college I knew exactly what I would be. I told my father, 'I'm an actor.' He said, 'You're a damn fool.' And that was that."

When Scheider graduated, however, the Korean War was on. He put three years in the Air Force and it was when he was stationed in Oregon that he married briefly. He married a second time in 1962, and with his second wife Cynthia, had a daughter who is now 29 and married and living in Alaska.

For ten years, from 1960 to 1970, he worked the stock companies, touring from Boston to Washington, playing in Joe Papp's Shakespeare Festival in the Hecshter Theatre in Manhattan and in the Arena in Washington. And then, after a brief part in Klute starring Jane Fonda, he landed the co-starring role, along with Gene Hackman, in The French Connection.

"It came about in a very strange way," he said. "Several months before they began casting for The French Connection, I had gone to an audition for a British play. The notice said they wanted an actor six feet tall. It was a drizzly day and there was a long line of actors and we had to stand outside the stage door. After about an hour, it was my turn and I went inside and the theatre was dark, except for a single work light on the stage. I could hear rustling sounds in the audience."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Scheider is it?" this British accent said. "Would you please read from page 18?"

"That's very good, Mr. Scheider," the accent said. "Now how tall are you?"

"I'm five eleven, but I could be six feet in boots."

"Would you read the scene on page 27?"

He reads the scene on page 27.

"That's very nice. How tall did you say you were?"

"I'm five eleven, but I could be six feet in boots."

Now please read the scene on page 77."

He reads the scene on page 77.

"And you said you were how tall?"

"I said I was five feet ten but I could be six feet in boots."

"Would you please stand back to back with the stage manager?"

And that was it. Scheider threw the script out into the darkness. The pages floated down.

"You people wouldn't hire Marlon Brando because he is too short," he yelled, and walked out.

The British accent, it turned out, belonged to the director of the play. But the casting director Bob Weiner, who overheard this conversation, absorbed it all. And, unknown to Scheider, three months later when casting began for The French Connection, Weiner was given that casting job too. They were looking for a tough guy.

"I think I know who should have this part," Weiner told the producers. "I saw this actor. I don't know if you can handle him, but he'd be perfect."

The French Connection, which was, in Scheider's words, "the first two guys in a car city western," won nine Oscar nominations, including Scheider's for the best supporting actor. Gene Hackman won for Best Actor.

Without a doubt, the most financially successful picture of Scheider's career was Jaws, which cost about $12 million to make in 1974 and brought in $400 million in its first six months.

"Steven Spielberg was at a Hollywood party with Tracy Keenan Wynn and I walked in on this conversation as the two of them were talking about this giant shark that comes out of the water and cracks a boat in half. I thought they were crazy. But a few days later, Spielberg called and asked me to take this part where I'd be essentially the same character I was in The French Connection, but in this resort where nobody would believe me. It was intriguing. We spent three seasons - spring, summer and fall - filming this movie on Martha's Vineyard. I loved Martha's Vineyard. I loved the ocean, the weather, the food, the island. It was like the Jersey shore, which I was very familiar with, but much better. Not a whole lot to do."

"It took so long to film because the techies couldn't get the model shark to bear up under ocean conditions. Salt would get at it. It would malfunction. Waiting around, Richard Dreyfus, Robert Shaw and I would improvise these scenes on the boat. Many of these scenes made the movie. It really does touch everybody's fear of water. Even for people who live in the Bronx. Or Buffalo."

Scheider starred in Blue Thunder, The Sorcerer, Marathon Man and All That Jazz, directed by Bob Fosse and written by Robert Alan Aurthur. All That Jazz was the most challenging film Scheider ever made. He plays the lead, a Broadway show director who is admired and loved. And as the film turns into a battle between life and death, it becomes a fantastic and disturbing blend of fantasy and reality. The film won the Grand Prize at the Cannes Film Festival in 1980. It also earned Scheider his second Oscar nomination, this time for Best Actor.

His second marriage, after twenty years, was on the rocks. He and his wife had agreed to go their separate ways. And then came Brenda King from Buffalo.

"We met in the Zimmer Drug Store on the corner of Madison and 76th Street." Scheider said. "She came up to me while I was looking at a magazine and told me that All That Jazz was one of her favorite movies and that I was terrific in it."

The rest, as they say, is history.

During his years here, Roy Scheider was very active in local affairs, and, among other things co-founded, along with his wife, The Hayground School. Here are further tributes to this wonderful man.

"Never cynical, always impassioned and generous, a voracious and youthful learner and caring and dynamic mentor, Roy was a vital participant in both the founding and the everyday life of The Hayground School.

Roy added joy to my life. He led by example - coming to all the meetings, dropping the kids off at school, acting on civil rights issues and giving his time and expertise in a respectful and generous way.

Roy was someone you could count on. Hayground is immeasurably richer for having him, Brenda and the children as such an integral part of our community. We miss him and treasure the gifts he gave us." - Toni Ross, co-founder of The Hayground School

"Hayground School was built on dreams, convictions and hard work - the unrealistic belief that a small group of people can get together and create something meaningful for their children, families and communities, with no illusions about the difficulties implied. It seems that Roy's life and his most recent Renaissance Project in Florence, Italy, reflected those values." - Kathy Engel and Jonathan Snow, co-founders of The Hayground School