updated 03/15/1982 AT 01:00 AM EST
•originally published 03/15/1982 AT 01:00 AM EST
Lecturing at the University of Arizona, Vincent Price attributed his professional longevity to his penchant for playing bad guys. "Heroes have no character, really," claimed the 70-year-old actor. "Once they get a few wrinkles or a paunch, they're washed up. But villains last. The more wrinkly they get, the more audiences love to hate them." Nonetheless, admitted Price, nasty roles are harder to come by "since that damn shark came along."
Biting the Hand That Feeds Her
Chubby Nell Carter, who won a Tony for Broadway's Ain't Misbehavin', often does that in the kitchen. Seems Nell's tried just about everything in her attempts to lose weight, including a recent week-long stay at L.A.'s Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she dropped 22 pounds on a strict calorie-control program. Watching TV, she reports, is a major reason for backsliding in the battle of the bulge. So now she's got a message for the folks at NBC: Gimme a Break. "All the commercials for food make you so hungry," says Carter. Her solution? "Watch cable—there are no advertisements."
Remember Ernest Thompson, the sandy-haired actor who played ranger Matt Harper on the NBC series Sierra in 1974? No? Well, that's hardly surprising, since the show, which took place in a fictional national park, ran only 13 weeks. A network bio from that time lists Thompson's hobbies as tennis and writing. Now, just three years after turning to the typewriter full-time, Thompson has garnered an Oscar nomination for his On Golden Pond screenplay and has authored a hit Broadway play, West Side Waltz, starring Katharine Hepburn. And you should see his backhand!
Let's just say it hasn't been Cher's month. First the critics murdered her Broadway play, Come Back to the 5 & Dime Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean—and then last week came the real thing. Seems a man was gunned down outside the Cafe Central, a watering hole on New York's Upper West Side that regularly attracts celebs like John Travolta. When the police entered the restaurant to interview patrons about the crime, there sat Mrs. Bono Allman. She had arrived from a party celebrating the 13th performance of the show (despite the bad reviews) just minutes before the police began their questioning—and safely after the murder. Not that she needed an alibi, but Cher's tablemate, Paul Stanley (of Kiss), or Steve Rubell, sitting nearby with Bianca Jagger, would have offered corroboration. Whew!
Who's afraid of Edward Albee? PBS, apparently. Some weeks ago the Virginia Woolf playwright tuned in one of New York City's public TV channels, WNYC, expecting to watch Brideshead Revisited. It wasn't on. A phone call revealed that the tape of Brideshead had been lost, and the station had no plans to interrupt its weekly schedule to run the episode on another night. Dismayed, Albee called PBS' Manhattan office, and last week WNYC ran episodes five and six back-to-back.
•Super Bowl MVP Joe Montana grew up in the heart of Pittsburgh Steeler country, Monongahela, Pa., but its Mayor, John Moreschi, would still like to honor the San Francisco quarterback when he comes home. So far, however, Montana's post-Super Bowl itinerary (which has taken him as far afield as Africa for a safari) hasn't included Monongahela. Oh, well, shrugs Hizzoner, "Joe has a state named after him already."
•With this month's publication of volume two, Henry Kissinger's memoirs now total a weighty 2,804 pages. Around the time he finished writing the first 1,000 pages, the author addressed a Republican fund raiser in Illinois. "Now," he joked, "I'm ready to start on the second chapter. I'm very frank about myself in the book," Kissinger added. "I tell of my first mistake—on page 850."