A TRIBUTE TO DOUG GRIFFIN.

     "I'll  break his goddamned neck, that's what I'll do, I'll break his goddamned neck!" 

That was my line and it was not selling. I knew it, Doug knew it, Dr. Sitton knew it, even Brad in the projection booth knew it. 

     Doug and I had become good friends since we first met when he was playing the lead role in, Beckett, Or the Honor of God. He had even introduced me to Frank Peter's, who owned the bar Doug worked in, Frank Peter's Inn, on 4th and Taylor. Peters was opening a new bar on 3rd and Burnside and was looking for workers. At first to harvest the wood from Coos Head Timber Company in Coos Bay, which he sold to developers of upscale shopping centers in California. Old dimensional timber, 4x4's, 8x8's, 4x8's and other wood that had begun life as old growth timber in a time when old growth timber in Oregon's forests was massive. Frank Peter's saved the best pieces to construct his bar. Doug was an actor who worked a normal job to pursue his ambitions on the stage. He had a rich, deep voice that was a delight to hear, like Sam Elliot but with a Boston accent. When he had money he drank top shelf blended Scotch, Haig and Haig Pinch. Other times domestic beer, whatever was on tap. On Thursday evenings I would take the bus to Peter's Inn to watch Doug do readings, in a cozy corner of the bar. The hand-lettered sign said, TONIGHT, TAYLOR STREET FINE ARTS SOCIETY. I don't remember how it came up but at some point Doug and I teamed up to do readings together. He would do Robert Benchley, William Saroyan, and other writers that were old friends to him. I chose to do Mark Twain, Robert Service, James Thurber, and Ogden Nash. We would sprinkle some comedy routines from Bob and Ray, and do some improv. This was old school for Doug, it was quite new to me. 

     At some point, Doug became acquainted with Dr. Robert Sitton, the director of the Film Study Center at the Portland Art Museum. Dr. Sitton had acquired the 1939 film classic, Of Mice and Men, directed by Lewis Milestone and starring Burgess Meredith and Lon Cheney Jr., who played George and Lenny, respectively. Between Doug and Dr. Sitton (Bob), they hatched this plan to do a multi-media presentation of the movie, stopping the film where George and Lenny had dialogue together. A full-screen image of them with Doug reciting George's lines and me doing Lenny's. The protectionist, Brad was able to display his cinematic art by freezing the frame while keeping the film score by Aaron Copeland in the background. This required a lot of coordination and we had alloted only two weeks of rehearsal before opening night. While this project was in its initial stages Doug and I would get together in a practice room at the Film Study Center to go over our lines. Since we would be speaking only at specified times there was much less memory work and there was no need for blocking. Still, coordinating our vocal intensity with the needs of the film required a lot of work. Lots and lots of work. And for most of it, Doug and I, me being the weakest link, did pretty well. Even the closing segment, at the stream where George and Lenny have their parting words, before George shoots Lenny in the back of the head to keep Lenny from going to prison for murder.

     Lenny was George's cousin. He had been kicked in the head by a mule as a child and George had pledged himself to be Lenny's protector after his mother had died. Lenny was big and strong. Perfect for the needs of ranch owners. But he did not know his own strength. Consequently they often found themselves leaving a ranch in the dark of night following an altercation which Lenny did not start, but which ended with Lenny giving a beat-down to a tormenter. In the case of the ranch where they find themselves working for the movie, the tormenter was Shorty, the bosses son. A short guy with a vicious case of short-guy syndrome. He resented Lenny's strength and size and George tried to keep them from tangling. But the inevitable happens and Shorty thought he could beat Lenny up while George was not around. George returns just in time to keep Lenny from beating Shorty into hamburger. And it was here that I was having my greatest difficulty. It was here that Lenny was so furious that he let his emotions run free in George's presence with no one in the vicinity. 

"I'll break his god damned neck, that's what I'll do, I'll break his goddamn neck". From the middle of the auditorium Dr. Sitton would say, that's close, Larry. I just want to feel the intensity. He hurt you. Show me that hurt. Back up the film, Brad, let's try it again."

I do not remember how many times we repeated the line. Bob Sitton was a disembodied voice somewhere in the middle of the darkened auditorium. "Not quite, try it again." "One more time, Larry, with intensity." After many frustrating attempts I, like Lenny let my emotions control me. I looked over to the podium where Doug was standing, and with what i thought was a quiet aside I said, "If he says that one more time, I'll break his god-damned neck, that's what I'll do, I'll break his god-damned neck." 

     From the middle of the auditorium came Bob's emphatic voice, THAT'S IT KEEP IT! We opened two nights later, Friday and Saturday. The one hundred or so regulars who saw that performance over those two nights saw a unique presentation of a classic film. Some asked, why we messed with the movie, some with slightly more colorful language. Others were complimentary to Bob for conceiving this unique presentation, for Brad who had his own paragraph on the playbill, and for Doug and I. 

    Doug and I made $25 dollars each for our performance that weekend, enough for a few shots of top-shelf whiskey. I learned an important lesson, several lessons, in performing. I also learned how to appreciate the work of people who adapt new techniques to old performances.