I met Albert S. Ruddy, the Oscar winning producer of “The Godfather,” (and “Million Dollar Baby”) in the autumn of 1969. Paramount released his film, “Little Fauss and Big Halsey” starring Robert Redford (Big), Michael J. Pollard (Little) and Lauren Hutton as (Rita Nebraska), on October 21, 1970.
Ruddy was and still is one of the most creative, enthusiastic, resourceful, and charming filmmakers I have ever known. It was a joy to work with this naturally gifted story teller, promoter and cinemaphile.
During the exhausting, very emotionally physical filming of “The Godfather,” being filmed in locations all over New York City, the never-ending complex relationships and weary skirmishes took its toll daily. Ruddy had to deal with Charles G. Bluhdorn, the explosive chairman of Gulf + Western Industries, and his Yes-Men in New York. He also had to report to the enthusiastic, creative and supportive Robert Evans, Paramount’s studio production chief, and a number of real life Mafia Dons who all had to be managed, handled, mollified, and humored.
More often than not, Ruddy would come to my office on the 29th floor of the G+W Building to unwind and escape his tormentors at he end of the day over healthy glasses of The Glen Livet on the rocks. I was always enthralled to hear his account of what had occurred on location that day and elsewhere in the journey to complete principal photography.
RODNEY DANGERFIELD LOVES CHINESE PEARS
“The Godfather” world premiere was held in the heart of Times Square, 1540 Broadway at Loewe’s State Theatre on March 14, 1972. Ten days later, the movie opened across the U.S. and Canada, and the rest is cinematic history.
During the course of the pre-opening publicity campaign, the movie was screened for entertainment and hard-news press, tv, radio and print writers, critics and friends of the film’s principals, studio executives and even for the Soviet Union’s Ambassador to the United Nations, Yakov Alexandrovich Malik. We hosted a small cocktail reception for Malik, his wife and George H.W. Bush, the United States Ambassador to the U.N. at the 45th story G+W restaurant.
One afternoon prior to the premier, Ruddy called me and asked me to set up a private screening for a gentleman named Thomas Ryan. Ruddy said that he was a friend of Al Letteri’s and he wanted to accommodate Letteri who garnered particular attention for his portrayal as the Sicilian mobster, heroin trafficker, Virgil Sollozzo. “Charlie, this is very import to me, thanks for setting it up. Love you!”, encouraged an exuberant, Ruddy.
An afternoon screening was set for the small, intimate executive screening room which featured 12 Eames chairs and 12 green and onyx marble side tables.
When Ryan arrived a member of the publicity department escorted him and a male companion to the 30th floor where I was waiting to greet him, get him settled and start the screening. He was about 5’10,” medium build with a pallid complexion and a prominent five o’clock shadow at 1:30 in the afternoon. He sported a light gray snap brim fedora and wore a dark suit with a white shirt buttoned at the neck, no tie.
I introduced myself, we shook hands and I ushered him into the comfort of the executive screening room.
As Ryan and his male guest chose their seats, I pointed to a built-in bar and refrigerator near by and told them to please help themselves. I asked him if he would like the projectionist to start the film. I told him he could speak to the projection booth using switch box on top of a small console table behind him .
He said said he was ready. I signaled the projection room to start. I said goodbye and that I hoped he enjoyed the movie. He thanked me. I left and returned to my office on the 29th floor which had sweeping views of Central Park to the east and the Hudson River to the south and west. An almost shy smile appeared on his face when we shook hands to say goodbye. He thanked me again, and his companion did as well.
A few months later, on July 17, I arrived at my office to find that my ever-efficient secretary placed the usual pile of newspapers, trade journals and magazines at the center of my desk. On top of that bundle was a folder of invoices that I needed to approve and sign. When I took the folder to put it aside, the front page of the New York Daily News (the first paper in the stack) jumped out at me. The entire front page of the city’s most popular tabloid was a stark black and white photograph of a body sprawled face down on a sidewalk
As I read the caption at the bottom of the page, I was floored.
“Thomas Eboli, also known as Tommy Ryan, a top leader in the Mafia in the New York area was gunned down in traditional gangland style early yesterday on a quiet residential street in the Crown Heights district of Brooklyn,” to paraphrase the paper’s caption.
A headline in the first column of The New York Times front page read, “A Key Gang Figure Slain in Brooklyn.”
I had work to do and a large department to run, however I certainly felt surprised, momentarily stunned and quite sad. It was hard for me to process the fact that the quiet, polite man that I had met and shaken hands with, just weeks ago, died a violent death caused by 5 bullets fired into his skull and brain. Eboli was head of the Genovese family at the time of his murder.
I came to know that Eboli adopted the street name Tommy Ryan to hide is Italian heritage and that his brother, Pasquale “Patsy Ryan” Eboli was a Genovese crime family capo. Alfredo “Al” Lettieri’s sister, Jean, was married to Pasquale Eboli.
It has been rumored that both Thomas and Patsy Eboli, who disappeared in 1976, met their respective fates because they socialized with the movie’s producer and cast. They also entertained Marlon Brando, James Caan, Morgana King (Don Corleone’s screen wife), Al Ruddy and Al Lettieri at a family dinner at Pasquale’s home in Fort Lee, New Jersey.
Al Lettieri died of a heart attack in 1975 at the age of 47. Like everyone in the cast and crew he helped loft “The Godfather” to the pinnacle of cinematic and cultural supremacy through his performance and through his relationships.
Charles Glenn, former EVP marketing Paramount, Universal, and Orion pictures
Charles Glenn's writing style is always captivating. It's like sitting at the knee of a yarn spinner. I want more stories.