Timing is everything
Rose Marie’s personal life takes center stage in documentary
Marie writerIn the played holding classic Sallyher sitcom own Rogers, “Thein a a man’sDick wisecrackingVan world. Dyke She televisionShow,”won three Rose Emmy nominations during the show’s five-year run in the early ’60s, later co-starred on “The Doris Day Show” and for 14 years occupied the top middle square on “The Hollywood Squares.” It was a great run, but most of Rose Marie’s fans never knew the full story of her life and career, which filmmaker Jason Wise lays out in the superb documentary “Wait for Your Laugh.” The movie will have its world premiere Thursday, Oct. 5, at the Century Cinema in Corte Madera, as one of the opening-night features of the Mill Valley Film Festival. Born Rose Marie Mazzetta in New York City, she was 5 when she became singing star Baby Rose Marie on
radio and vaudeville. In “Wait for Your Laugh,” we learn that Al Capone summoned her to his Chicago mansion and offered protection (“You call me Uncle Al”); that her father bilked her of all her childhood earnings and had a secret family with two other children on the side; that she opened the Flamingo Hotel in 1946 at the request of mobster Bugsy Siegel; that she married the love of her life, trumpet player Bobby Guy, in 1946, but lost him much too soon in 1964.
“She’s an amazing survivor,” says Carl Reiner, who created “The Dick Van Dyke Show.” “I remember when I read her book (“Hold the Roses,” 2002) I called her and said, ‘Rose Marie, you have a lot of reasons to be a lot crazier than you are.’ ”
Reiner, 95, who saw “Wait for Your Laugh” at a private screening in August, calls it “the best documentary about a celebrity I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s been a hell of a life,” Rose Marie says. Now 94, she has arthritis and uses a wheelchair, but her memory and storytelling gifts are intact. She has a Twitter account — “Do an old broad a favor and ask your friends to follow me,” she tweeted — and completed her last acting gig, a voice-over for “The Garfield Show,” in 2013.
According to the documentary, she holds the record for the longest career in showbiz history: nearly 90 years. Rose Marie spoke by telephone — in that low, gravelly voice familiar from the Van Dyke show — from her home in Van Nuys (Los Angeles County). Q: How’d you feel the first time you saw “Wait for Your Laugh”? A: I cried. I couldn’t believe all of that happened to me. Especially the part about my husband. Jason did such a beautiful job with that. Q: That’s the heart of the movie. A: I know. I had a love affair. You’ve heard of “soul mates”? He was mine. When he died, my life almost ended. I never got married again. I went out with a couple of guys now and then, but there was no romance. I always said, “Why should I go for margarine when I’ve had butter?” Q: The movie has a wealth of vintage film footage from the 1930s, ’40s, ’50s and ’60s. Was that all from your personal collection? A: Everything in that documentary is mine. Cards and telegrams, pictures, everything. My house is cluttered with stuff like that. Jason went through all the scrapbooks, sat me down and went page by page: “What’s this? Who’s that? How’d you meet him?” Q: Did you set ground rules, tell him which subjects were off limits? A: There wasn’t anything I could tell him not to use or be ashamed of. You know, it’s amazing: My husband died when he was 48 and I had my daughter (Georgiana) all to myself. And between the two of us, no divorces, no booze, no dope. We look at each other and say, “What’s wrong with us?” Q: What are your favorite parts of the movie? A: I was thrilled how he got my name (on the marquee) in different places. To see my name up in lights, especially at the Capitol Theatre — it was mind-boggling. I worked every club. Well, I was very involved with the mob, as you know. Q: Those guys in the Mafia really liked you. A: They loved me. I was a kid and they took care of me. Every Vegas hotel had their own mob guy at the head of it. They would go, “Where you working next week?” and I’d say “I don’t have anything.” “OK, you’re working in Tahoe.” I’d say, “OK.” And after that, “You’re working Reno.” Q: So the mob was your booking agent? A: To a degree, right. Q: How is your health now? A: I’m hanging in there. I’ve had everything but diabetes. I broke my hip. They couldn’t fix it. I fell, broke it again. That’s why I can’t walk. Plus I have very bad arthritis. I go to the hospital twice a week. They give me blood, they take blood and then I go home. A tuneup and an oil change. Q: You live alone? A: I have two caretakers, one five days a week and the other for the weekend. My daughter says, “I don’t want you left alone.” My daughter’s been taking very, very good care of me. Q: In the documentary, Dick Van Dyke, Carl Reiner and “Hollywood Squares” host Peter Marshall all describe you as tough. True? A: Well, let me put it this way. I had to look out for myself when I was on the road. And I do have a temper. When I get upset, I really go at it. That’s the Italian part of me. On the other hand, when I’m happy I’m very happy. Q: Carl Reiner tells a story in the movie: During the first season of the Van Dyke show, you complained about not having more scenes, and he told you to leave if you weren’t happy. A: That wasn’t it. When we started doing the show, I found out we were just doing a couple little things in the office. I went to Carl and said, “How come you’re doing everything in the home instead of the office?” He says, “That’s the way it’s gonna be. The office is on the side. If you don’t like it, quit.” I said, “I won’t quit, but write some more things for me.” Q: Were you and Mary Tyler Moore close? A: No. There was no camaraderie between the two of us. I was like one of the boys with (costar) Morey (Amsterdam) and (producers) Sheldon Leonard and Danny Thomas, ’cause I knew them from the beginning. And she was pretty, gorgeous figure and all of those things. Mary was in one direction and I was in another. Q: Your scenes with Dick Van Dyke and Morey Amsterdam are master classes in comic timing. A: I’m very proud of that. In fact, that’s going on my tombstone: “Timing is everything.”