It doesn't happen much anymore but the first twenty-or-so years I went to comic book conventions (1970-1990), I met folks I'd always wanted to meet. Most were people who'd contributed in some way to comic books, TV shows or movies I'd loved when I was a lad. At the 1974 San Diego Comic Con, I had lunch one afternoon with Charles Schulz, lunch another afternoon with Milton Caniff and a number of syndicated cartoonists and lunch a third afternoon with one of the great film directors, Frank Capra.
That con was held July 31 thru August 5, 1974 at the El Cortez Hotel in downtown San Diego. The El Cortez is no longer a hotel — it's now all condominiums. It stopped being a hotel in 1978 but until then, it was a great place to have that kind of gathering. The management didn't seem to care what we did to the place as long as it was still standing when we all checked out. Estimated attendance in '74 was 2,500 — or about 120,000 less than now attend that annual event under its current name, Comic-Con International.
I tell the story about meeting Mr. Schulz in my new book. I'll tell the story about the lunch with Milton Caniff and friends one of these days. Right now, here's the story about meeting Frank Capra, the director of — among many other fine films — It Happened One Night, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, You Can't Take It with You, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and It's a Wonderful Life. It's a wonderful résumé.
A lot of folks these days complain about Comic-Con not being mainly about comic books. I have three responses to that, one being that the comic book industry these days is no longer mainly about comic books. Another is that there's plenty there in the exhibit hall and in the panel rooms about comic books. If you're not seeing it, you're not looking hard enough.
And the third thing is that Comic-Con was never supposed to be only about comic books, as witness the fact that Frank Capra was a Guest of Honor at that early con and so were cast members from Star Trek and others who had absolutely zero connection to or interest in comic books. Mr. Capra actually seemed annoyed that the con he attended that one year was about anything other than Frank Capra. He should have known that when he accepted the invitation from Shel Dorf to put in an appearance.
I probably need to stop here and explain about Shel Dorf. Shel, who passed away in 2009, is often referred to as the Founder of the convention. I posted a TV news clip here the other day that absolutely called him that. I don't know anyone who was around then who thinks he deserved the credit he claimed, though some let him get away with it to humor him. In truth, there were about a dozen people who deserve some chunk of that distinction.
Shel spent much of that con hovering around Mr. Capra, trying to make him feel welcome and important at the convention. This was difficult to do because, frankly, there were very few attendees on the premises who cared about Frank Capra or even knew who he was. It may be apocryphal but a friend of mine who did know claimed that someone else at the con said, "Frank Capra? Isn't he the guy who inked Jack Kirby on Captain America?" (No, that was Frank Giacoia.)
I sure as hell knew who Frank Capra was. In fact, I brought along a copy of his recently-released autobiography to get it signed…a fact I mentioned to Shel on the first day of the con. Then on the second day or maybe the third, some friends of mine and I were just about to walk a few blocks to a Denny's — the only adequate place near the El Cortez to grab a meal — when Shel came running up to me. He was in a panic and he asked me where I was going.
I said, "Some friends of mine and I are going to the Denny's to have lunch."
He said, "You can't. I need you to have lunch with Frank Capra!" And he went on to explain that Mr. Capra was upset at the lack of attention he was getting at the convention. Shel told me, "Almost no one showed up for his talk this morning."
I replied, "Well, I would have if I'd known about it." The con then was very sloppy about programming and about publicizing the programming. That same weekend, someone assigned me to be on a panel and I missed it because no one told me about it. Nor was it mentioned in the program guide or on any printed handouts. Nor did much audience show for it.
Shel went on: "I told Mr. Capra about you and how you'd brought his book along because you were a huge fan of his. He's going to meet you in the hotel dining room in fifteen minutes!" So I told my friends to go eat without me, ran up to my room, fetched my copy of Mr. Capra's book and proceeded to the hotel dining room where he was seated at a table all alone, waiting for me.
The food in the hotel dining room was neither good nor cheap, which is why we all went to Denny's. But that didn't matter much because Mr. Capra was charming and funny and quite compliant when I pressed him for stories about being a gag man for Mack Sennett and working with all the stars of the cinema he'd directed. He was though more then a little peeved. though not at me, that so few con attendees seemed interesed in meeting him.
The turnout for the con though was a little too young and much of it was disinterested in anything not published by DC or Marvel. There was also this: In 1974, long before home video, it was simply difficult to see most of the films he'd directed. Even I'd only seen about a third of them and when I said, "I wish I could see them in a theater instead of on a small TV screen with bad edits and bad commercials," he then launched into a tirade. Again, it was not at me. It was about the fact that his films weren't available the way they were meant to be seen.
The conversation basically broke down into four topics: Why his films weren't more available, why "these kids today" didn't know about him and them, how great each film was and — foremost — how everything that was great about them was put there by Frank Capra and no one else.
He didn't write most of them but the wonderfulness in the writing was there because of Frank Capra supervision and rewriting. He didn't star in them but all the great acting was there because he chose the right people and they were his puppets. He didn't design the sets but…well, you get the idea. I didn't record it or didn't take notes but you can experience a simulacrum of our lunch by citing something good about a Capra film — and of course there's much to choose from — and imagining how Mr. Capra would claim sole credit for it.
I heard a lot about the famous silent comedian Harry Langdon, about directing Jimmy Stewart and Clark Gable, about Harry Cohn (who ran Columbia Pictures) and even about how Capra suggested various things with which The Three Stooges could hit one another over their respective heads. (He never directed them but once he popped into their set and had some ideas.)
It was all fascinating, though perhaps not the way Mr. Capra intended…but I did meet and talk with him. I did learn some things about his films. I did get an insight into how for some people there's never such a thing as Enough Credit. (I have met others since who made him look humble by comparison.) I did get my book signed. And I did have the honor of getting stuck with the check.
Ten years later, a friend invited me to join her for a dinner with Jimmy Stewart at Chasen's. I wrote about it here but I didn't mention one exchange. Capra's name came up in the conversation since Mr. Stewart starred in a couple of Mr. Capra's most acclaimed films. I told him I'd once had lunch with Capra and Jimmy Stewart asked me, "Did he tell you that I couldn't act unless he treated me like his puppet and told me every single thing to do?"
I replied, "I think he mentioned something to that effect." We all laughed and I spent a lovely dinner with a man who was at the opposite end of the Modesty Meter. That was a fascinating meal too but, come to think of it, I got stuck with the check for that one, too.