The Epitome of being a Speaker/Entertainer

Whenever we speak we must entertain. Finding all of the ways to connect with your audience is the true spirit of the entertainer.

Frank Sinatra Respectfulposting

Rosa ter Braake? · 4h? ·

Frank Capra directed Frank Sinatra in the movie A Hole in the Head (1959).

Some of the things Frank Capra said about Frank Sinatra in his memoir:

“I heard Sinatra sing at the Copa; heard him grab that night-club audience; heard him grab me. He knew the meaning of his lyrics and sang them to you, powerfully, dramatically. Vocal cords swelling out from his thin neck, face contorted with passion, blue eyes moist with meaning – that thin vibrant man sang like nobody of the time, like nobody of today. Durante introduced us in his dressing room. I mumbled something like, ‘Boy, you've got it. Don't throw it away–‘“

“Frank would be as proficient in drama as he is in song – had he committed himself to his abundant gifts. Pity. Had Sinatra dedicated himself to the profession of acting as much as he has to his singing, he would have made a devastating combination of Bogart, Tracy, and Casanova.”

“Sinatra is a great singer ('a saloon singer' he calls himself), and he knows it. The excitement of moving and reaching the hearts of live audiences with his lyrical virtuosity makes his blood run hot. He has total command of his performances; selects his own songs, songwriters, orchestras, audiences. Sinatra is also a great actor, and he knows that too.

But in films he is not Sinatra doing Sinatra's thing with song. He cannot reach and bewitch live, ever-changing 'saloon' audiences. He performs for a never-changing audience of busy, dispassionate cameramen, sound men, script girls, make-up people, dead-pan electricians who have 'seen it all before,' and other actors who don't bewitch easily – if at all.

Nor is Sinatra in total command of the shooting of a film. There are budgets and schedules to confine, and directors to heed. But Sinatra 'heeds' very badly. Directors become his bête noires. If directors keep him busy, he maintains an uneasy truce; for having started something, Sinatra's next goal is to finish it - but fast. He bores easily; can't sit still or be alone; must be where the action is – preferably with his fellow 'saloon' performers, the lovelies, or the less orthodox socially.

Should he not be used for a day or two – especially on location – Frank grouses, accuses directors of fooling around with inconsequentials. Regrettably, he is half-right. There is a good deal of 'fooling around' inherent in directing. Sinatra gives ultimatums: 'Finish with me in three days or I'm blowing' or, 'Another week on this location? Look, fella. If you want to futz around, or want to be the “big” man – do it on your own time – not mine. I'm giving you till tomorrow night to shoot my scenes.' And directors do finish with him when he demands – admitting Sinatra is half-right.”

“The scene took place in the dog track's V.I.P. clubhouse boxes; Sinatra, Wynn, Lansing, in the front box, Miami's racing set filled other boxes. First rehearsal: Sinatra great, others need straightening out. Second rehearsal: Sinatra cools off, others improve. First photographic take: Sinatra cold, others fine.

I took Frank aside. He was in a black mood. 'Something bothering you, Frank?' 'Hell, yes. All those rehearsals, repeating the same jokes to the same jerks. It'd bother anybody.' Well, well! Another Stanwyck? Could be. He's a performer first, actor second. He never repeats a song to the same audience. 'Take ten, Frank. I'll call you.'

I went to Keenan Wynn, an all-league pro. 'Keenan, I want to try something without rehearsing it with Frank. Change your cues, mix up your lines. Joi! Interrupt Frank during his speeches, but keep the scene going, no matter what Frank does. I want it to be all new for him. Art, change the extras around in the back boxes, we don't want to see the same faces – '

Roll 'em! Action! Sinatra has the first line. Keenan jumps him with, 'What'd you say?' Surprised, Sinatra says, 'I ain't said nothing yet.' Well, say it. What's on your mind?' It was a brand-new game. Sinatra lights up. They play a wonderful scene, full of natural ad libs. Well, I'll be damned. Another Stanwyck.”

“Out of my one-picture association with Sinatra, a mutual admiration society sprang up between us. In interview after interview I disappointed the press by extolling both Sinatra's talent and his cooperation. Whatever tales of woe other directors had to relate about Sinatra's intransigence did not apply to my experience – as witness the fact that we finished Hole under schedule and under budget.

My rapport with Frank was something special, and mostly unspoken. We liked, respected,and admired each other and never said anything about it. I couldn't help knowing, of course, that he did not live with the mother of his three children, or noticing that he was wildly in love with his offspring, and that at times he appeared more than just fond of their mother.”

“[February 1959] Frank Sinatra invited Lu and me (he called her Lucy) to be his guests at the Sands Hotel, Las Vegas, where he was giving solo performances. Important conference, he said. We took along Jim and Marion Warner, and were ushered to a V.I.P. table which turned out to be a table leg surmounted by a table top smaller than a pizza pie. For wherever the Leader performed there was breathing room only. And there he stood and sang! The champ. Magnetic. Sensual. The greatest saloon singer of all time, playing on the emotions of his beloved saloon audience with the artistry of Toscanini conducting Beethoven's Ninth.”