Stuart Woods - L.A. Times

Vincente Michaele Callabrese blinked in the midafternoon sunlight as he

Vinnie Callabrese stood on the southeast corner of Second Avenue

Vinnies beeper went off as he left the movie house.

Vinnie paid the cabbie, tipped him five, then ran up

Vinnie had met Barbara Mannering at a benefit for the

Vinnie worked on the production budget for two days, between

Vinnie loved the work. He tried to get his collection

Vinnie sat in the rehearsal hall at Central Plaza on

Vinnie sat straight up in bed. Something had awakened him,

Vinnie lay on his dead mothers bed and tried to

Vinnie sat in a taxicab and sweated. He had less

Vinnie had three meetings on the morning of the showing

Michael opened his eyes and listened hard. There was a

Michael approached the gates of Centurion Pictures slowly. He had

Michael entered the Executive Building again and found Helen Gordon

Michael had a prearranged appointment downtown at 2:30, and there

Michael arrived at his offices the following morning and was

Michael and Vanessa found the Bel-Air house of Leo and

Robert Hart was indeed shorter than Michael had thought. Even

Michael arrived in his office to find his secretary standing

Michael sat in the lawyers office and stared at the

Michael drove back to the studio in a fury, whipping

Michael drove the Porsche slowly up Sunset Boulevard toward the

Michael jerked awake to the sound of the telephone. He

Driving didnt do it. When he got to the studio

Michael sat and looked at the two police officers. This

Michael sat at a table at a McDonalds on Santa

Monday night at Mortons. The crme de la crme of

Michael put down Mark Adairs first-draft screenplay of Pacific Afternoons

Michael looked across his desk at his director. Eliot Rosen

Michael stood in the center of Leo Goldmans enormous office

Michael got to the office early the next day and

Special Agent Thomas Carson of the Los Angeles office of

The ringing telephone woke Detective Ricardo Rivera. He rolled over

Michael got to the beach half an hour early. Hed

Michael shifted the Porsche down into second gear and turned

Michael eased the Porsche into the turnaround of the Goldmans

Michael was already dressed when Vanessa woke up. Its Saturday,

Michael stood on the beach at Carmel and watched Robert

Michael slept in his office again on Thursday night, and

Michael watched as Bob Hart leaned over his wife and

Michael went to the studio on Saturday, leaving Margot lying

From an article in Vanity Fair:

Michael put down the magazine and stared out at the

Rick Rivera sat by the pool behind the house in

Michael stood at the front door and watched the stretch

Michael was picked up by a studio limousine in the

Michael was home before midnight. He said good night to

Michael had already finished breakfast on the terrace overlooking the

It was after lunch before the two FBI agents showed

Michael and Amanda Goldman lay naked on the upstairs back

Michael sat in Leos private screening room, adjacent to his

Michael walked into the Beverly Hills Hotel, through the main

Michael looked up into the glazed eyes of Margot Gladstone

Michael waited impatiently for the call from Leos secretary, and

Michael looked around the hospital room. The entire Centurion board

Michael stood at the podium and addressed the memorial service

Near the end of his first week as head of

Michael sat in the chauffeur-driven stretch Mercedes that he had

Michael and Amanda Goldman both reeked of cocoa butter as

Michael stood at the mirror and expertly tied his black

Michael sat at his desk, going over the budget for

Michael straightened his desk, squared away the legal pads, scooped

Michael slowly opened his eyes. He had been aware, over

1975

V incente Michaele Callabrese blinked in the midafternoon sunlight as he emerged from the darkness of the York Theater on the Upper West Side after the noon performance of The Strange One , a revival starring Ben Gazzara and George Peppard. He sprinted for the subway, and as he rode downtown toward his next movie he was still gripped by the performances of the two young actors who had been among the most promising of their generation.

Woody Allens movie Bananas was next, at the Bleecker Street Cinema, and he would make a seven oclock double feature of Orson Welless The Magnificent Ambersons and Othello . He was short of his record of seven movies in sixteen hours, but that had been made possible by two three-screen houses next door to each other on Third Avenue, so hed only had to take one subway.

It was after midnight when Vinnie left the Eighth Street Playhouse and started home; each step he took toward Little Italy was taken with more foreboding. He had cut school again, and he was already a grade behind; his mother would be waiting up for him, and his father, if he were homewell, he didnt want to think about that.

Vinnie was fourteen and big for his age. He was already shaving every day, and girls three and four years older were taking him seriously. He didnt have a lot of time for girls, thoughwhen he wasnt in school or at the movies, he was running errands for a loan shark in the neighborhood, which paid for his movie tickets. Since the age of six, when he had belatedly seen his first film, Vinnie Callabrese had been to the movies nearly two thousand times. His friend and benefactor, an older boy named Tommy Provensano, who was very smart, was always telling Vinnie that he should keep his moviegoing a secret, because nobody would take him seriously.

He had seen some favorite films four or five times, but Othello had been a new experience for Vinnie. He hadnt understood much of the dialogue, but he had been able to follow the story, and the dark drama had riveted him to his seat. He knew guys like Iago on his own block. He admired them; he learned from them.

Vinnie walked up the five flights, his heart pounding from more than the exertion. What if the old man were home? He inserted his key into the lock and turned it as silently as possible, then slipped into the four-room railroad flat. All was quiet; he sagged with relief as he stood still in the kitchen, letting his breathing return to normal. It would be easier if his mother didnt see him until morning, when her anger would have abated a little.

Bastard! a voice behind him said.

Vinnie spun around to find his father, Onofrio, sitting in a kitchen chair, leaning against the wall, a pint bottle of cheap whiskey in his hand. Onofrio didnt bother using a glass anymore.

Bastard from hell! his father said. You were never mine; your mother laid down with the mailman, the butchersomebody.

Dont you talk about my mother that way, Vinnie said, his voice trembling.

Onofrio stood up and took a long swig from the bottle, then set it on the sink beside him. You talk back to me? He unbuckled his wide belt and slipped it from his trousers. You want this, huh?

Dont you talk about my mother that way, Vinnie repeated.

Your mother is a whore, Onofrio said, almost conversationally. Thats why you are the bastard. He flicked the belt out to its full length.

This time the buckle was not in his hand, but at the swinging end of the belt. This time would be bad, Vinnie thought.

Onofrio swung the buckle at his son. It made a whirring sound as it moved through the air.

Instinctively, Vinnie ducked, and the heavy buckle passed over his head.

Stand still and take your beating, bastard! Onofrio shouted.

There was a hammering on a door down the hall, and Vinnie heard his mothers voice faintly pleading with his father. You beat her again, didnt you? Vinnie asked.