During my thirty-plus years out in California, I had the good fortune of experiencing the Sportsmen’s Lodge Hotel in Studio City. Not quite Hollywood, it was located on Ventura Blvd. and was known as a popular haunt for performers not requiring the glitz and glamor (or the paparazzi) of the tonier locations. Perhaps a bit past its heyday, the Lodge was still a nice, conveniently located spot where many of the country-western acts at that time stayed when appearing at the nearby Universal Amphitheater. I once saw Billy Bob Thornton doing his own laundry in the hallway.
I was doing some advertising for the Lodge in 1995. Steve Scheck (cousin of OJ attorney Barry) then the General Manager and I became cordial friends. We were having breakfast one morning when I noticed a familiar face sitting by himself, having a bagel and reading the paper.
I said to Steve; “Is that who I think it is ...?”
“Yeah, Alex Rocco. He’s here all the time. C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”
Alex Rocco could not have been more gregarious and friendly. He invited me to sit down and join him, as Steve left us to attend to a sales meeting. Here I was – sitting alone, one-on-one with Moe Green – fugedaboudit!
The waitress brought over another cup of coffee. He inquired about my role at the Lodge, and after explaining my relationship with its marketing and advertising, I mentioned that I was also a novice screenwriter, and just finished another screenplay.
“Tell me about it” he said.
I briefly pitched The Last Cadillac – a story about an Italian family on the (New) Jersey Shore where I grew up and spent childhood summers. To my surprise and delight, Alex responded that he’d like to read it. He mentioned he was in town until the end of that week, after which he was headed back to his home in Santa Barbara. “If you can get it to my by Friday, I’ll take it home and read it this weekend.” Then, after a pause and a nod to his legendary Godfather character, “Is there a role for a flamboyant casino operator?”
“No”, I said, “but we can certainly write one in!” I printed a fresh copy of the script, and left it for him. I’ve always embraced the notion of “hoping for everything – but expecting nothing”. That said, I did spend some time down at Legend’s Sports Bar in Long Beach my nightly local watering hole telling (perhaps gloating) to my crew about meeting The Godfather’s Moe Green. That would have been a great story it and of itself, but it gets better.
The following week, Steve called to say that Alex was back in town and mentioned my script. Moreover, he had someone he wanted me to meet. It seemed that my prayers were being answered, even though and I hadn’t said any in many years.
The next day I drove up to Studio City to meet Alex, again for breakfast. He mentioned that he’d just done a small film with a young producer named Heath McLaughlin. “With names like ‘Doyle” and ‘McLaughlin”, I gotta get you guys together”.
The title of the film was Just Write – about a young screenwriter who drives a Hollywood tour bus to make ends meet. Alex continued – “I just play a small part. He’s now looking for a distributor. They’re screening it for the cast and crew up at the Alfred Hitchcock Theater up on the Universal lot tomorrow night. I’d like to you join me as my guest. We’ll meet here around 5 – grab a bite to eat, and have a few drinks with Heath afterwards – waddya say?”
[Now, the reader has to understand and appreciate at this point that not only have a met Moe Green – but Moe Green’s invited me to dinner, a movie and drinks, capische?]
We met at the Lodge and drove over to Jerry’s Deli there on Ventura Blvd., then over to Universal. It was a small, intimate theater made even more intimate when I sat next to JoBeth Williams of The Big Chill fame who also had a small part. The film starred Jeremy Piven (before he became Jeremy Piven). The house dimmed, and it was off to a pleasant start when a title read; “A really really great distributor presents ... Just Write”. Although a pleasant little film, that was the biggest laugh of the evening. In my view, the characters were thin. I did not feel for the protagonist (Piven) in that he seemed kind of a superficial soul, and somewhat self-centered. In my view, a writer should, and at the very least, be played as a flawed, tortured soul as most of us clearly are.
Afterwards, Heath mentioned that the film was made for a scant (even for 1995) one million – that came from a “consortium of mid-western dentists” (my hand to God). He was proud that the actors all worked for scale and that every nickel of his budget went up on the screen, and it showed. It was beautifully shot in and around Hollywood environs.
Alex mentioned my script, albeit a New Jersey vs. Hollywood location and “genre”. Heath offered to read it and give me an evaluation. The evening ended at The Ginger Man in Beverly Hills a world-class watering hole owned then by (actors) Carroll O’Connor and Patrick O’Neal.
I kept in touch with Alex as our paths crossed occasionally at the Sportsmen’s Lodge. I also kept tabs with Heath. Sadly, Just Write never found a distributor, even after Jeremy Piven became a huge star on HBO. It’s not even listed on Alex Rocco’s Wikipedia career filmography. Tactfully, I asked Heath why, in retrospect, it never found a screen or two. Again, my hand to God, he replied: “Because it didn’t have half of the heart and soul that you wrote into The Last Cadillac.
I wish I’d read your script first. Alex would have made a great Mr. Mancini.” I’d no doubt.
Now and then I wonder if a consortium of mid-west dentists were prone to finance a film, what if a consortium of Cadillac dealers in New Jersey ... it’d be great PR. Talk about product placement – it’s written into the title.
In 1999, I had the good fortune, after running into my high school heartthrob at a New Jersey reunion, to marry her after 35 years, and relocated to Maine. But that’s another story altogether. Sadly, Alex Rocco passed way in 2015 at 79, after a battle with pancreatic cancer. I’m so grateful I have this Godfather story to tell and that brief but memorable brush with Alex Rocco.
Thanks, Moe.
2026