My mother was also in another film called Tammy, which was also a hit song—which pissed off my father because that was really his area. She was actually pregnant with me when she filmed Tammy. So if you look very carefully, there’s a scene where she and Leslie Nielsen are in the garden trying to save some prize tomatoes in a rainstorm (like they do in old movies). Well, I am the bulge in the side of her abdomen. It’s some of my best screen work; I urge you to see it. Oh, and she was also pregnant with me in yet another film called A Bundle of Joy, costarring the marvelous method actor—Eddie Fisher.
When I was born, my mother was given anesthesia because in those days they didn’t have epidurals. (I always thought that they should make an epidural that works from the neck up, which was a condition I aspired to for most of what I laughingly refer to as my adult life.) Anyway, so my mother was unconscious. Now my mother is a beautiful woman—she’s beautiful today in her 70’s so at 24 she looked like a Christmas morning. So all the doctors were all buzzing around her pretty head, saying “Oh, look at Debbie Reynolds asleep—how pretty.” And my father, upon seeing me start to come through—crown with all the placenta and everything else (ugh)—my father fainted dead away. So now all the nurses ran over to him, saying “Oh look, there’s Eddie Fisher, the crooner, on the ground! Let’s go look at him!” So when I arrived, I was virtually unattended! And I have been trying to make up for that fact ever since. Even this book is a pathetic bid for the attention I lacked as a newborn.
My father was best friends with a very charismatic producer named Mike Todd, who produced a movie called Around the World in Eighty Days, which won an Oscar for Best Picture.
So my father and mother and Mike Todd and his fiancée, who happened to be Elizabeth Taylor, went everywhere together—they went to nightclubs, on cruises—well, they literally traveled the world! So when Mike and Elizabeth got married, my father was Mike Todd’s best man and my mother was Elizabeth’s matron of honor! She even washed her hair on her wedding day. Now later I heard my mother mumble that she wished she washed it with Nair. But she’s not a bitter woman.
Anyway, I was about two when my brother was born, and my father so adored Mike Todd that my brother, Todd, was named for him.
Now, perhaps my father didn’t realize that in the Jewish faith, it is considered bad luck to name a child after someone who is still living—a silly superstition—or so they thought!
Because about a year later, Mike Todd took off in a private plane in a rainstorm, and the following morning Elizabeth was a widow. Well, naturally, my father flew to Elizabeth’s side, gradually making his way slowly to her front. He first dried her eyes with his handkerchief, then he consoled her with flowers, and he ultimately consoled her with his penis. Now this made marriage to my mother awkward, so he was gone within the week. And as far as I know he has not returned. Up to this very day. But you know what? I have high hopes because I think one night they are both going to come see my show on the same night, run into each other, get that old feeling, get back together, and raise me right!
You might be thinking, well, that explains it! She’s the product of Hollywood inbreeding. That’s why my skull isn’t entirely grown together at the back.
Recently, my daughter, Billie, who is sixteen now, had a flirtation with Mike Todd and Elizabeth’s grandson Rhys. When they first met, they were trying to work out how it all fit together and if they were related in some way. So I thought about it. And when I think, I need an enormous chalkboard with a chart to hold my thoughts… because I have so many zooming this way and that and then it’s helpful if I can have some pictures and a pen so I can organize the insanity that is my thought process.
Welcome, class, to Hollywood 101. Thank you so much for enrolling.
Alright, so up at the top left of the chart, we have Eddie and Debbie. In the ’50s they were known as “America’s Sweethearts.” Now if you are too young to relate to any of this, try and think of it this way: think of Eddie as Brad Pitt and Debbie as Jennifer Aniston and Elizabeth as Angelina Jolie. Does that help?
All right, so Eddie consoles Elizabeth with his penis, Elizabeth takes a movie in Rome—a big budget film called Cleopatra and she meets her costar Richard Burton, so goodbye, Eddie, hello, Richard.
These two hit it off like gangbusters (whatever that means) and they met and married and had a wild, passionate relationship with violet eyes and Welsh accents and acting and diamonds and drinking, dancing and sex and joy and love. But ultimately, you know, with passionate relationships, they can become stormy, and then what do you think happens? That’s right… they get divorced… but they have good memories of one another, so what do they do then? They remarry, that’s right. Now, keep that in mind, because it might come up again.
All right, now let’s go to Debbie. Now Debbie does not want to marry another man who will run off, so she marries someone very, very old who can’t run—nope, Harry Karl can’t run at all. All he does is sit in a chair and smoke and drink and read the paper, and after about thirteen years, he loses all his money, and then he takes all of hers. Fun! And so that marriage ends. And she was alone for a while, but then fate intervened and brought her this sociopath—Richard Hamlett. He has some money issues, too. Her money.
But let’s not get too far past Harry Karl though. My first stepfather. Harry was a shoe tycoon. It doesn’t sound like those words should fit together, does it? But in this case they do. So, prior to being married to my mother, Harry was married to Marie McDonald. Marie “the Body” McDonald. Now Marie was an actress(ish) and she and Harry met and they married and they had a wild, passionate relationship with bodies and shoes and drinking and dancing and lust and joy and fun. But here come the storm clouds. So what do you think they do then?
That’s right, they do divorce.
But, they have good memories of each other, so now what do they do?
That’s right, they do remarry and now they have that great American institution—they have make-up sex, which, as everyone knows, is the best sex of all, and they celebrate the great sex by having a child. And that goes so well that they adopt two more. But then the storm clouds come, so they…?
Divorce.
Now, Marie MacDonald was a real romantic, an optimistic woman—and I say that because she married a grand total of nine times, which is a record for the board. And that’s saying something, because this is a marrying board.
Now, that many marriages could give you a headache, no? Well, I think it gave Marie one because she became addicted to pain killers. Recently I learned this amazing thing. If you become addicted to pain killers, it can go very, very wrong for you. Who knew? Anyway, it did with Marie because she overdosed and passed away. And that last husband, not to be outdone, shot himself.
You might say they loved each other to death.
So now there are three children left. What should we do with them? I know! Let’s send them to Harry and Debbie. Now, Debbie is told that one of the children should be institutionalized. But my mother is a good person, much like Sarah Palin (only smarter), and she says, “Absolutely not. We will put her in Carrie’s room!”