The Importance of Being Ernest Page 5

  Just a few weeks after Christmas, Ed and Jim were taking their dates to a bar called the Terrace Room at Eastland Bowling Lanes in Lexington. Ed was driving his 1967 Austin-Healey Sprite, a two-seater with a small storage space in the back. Ed’s date was nestled in that spot while Jim’s date sat on his lap.

  They were traveling down Eastland Parkway around 9 p.m. The car came upon an ice patch, popped the curb and bounced off a tension cable, which flipped the car upside-down. Ed landed with his torso halfway out of the car and was able, despite the severity of the situation, to crawl out with little struggle. For Jim and the two girls, still inside, it was more difficult to find a clear way out. The smell of leaking gasoline only made things more terrifying. Jim’s date unknowingly used his chest to push off with her feet. She was wearing high heels. Jim later said he thought he could feel his collarbone separate. Jim finally managed to squeeze through a narrow opening, but with so much adrenaline pumping he didn’t feel his ear nearly ripping off as it scraped across the pavement. The girls, being smaller, were able to slide out more easily.

  The night watchman at the nearby Cockrell’s Auto Body let the four inside the building to clean up until the ambulance arrived. Jim walked into the restroom and sat down on the toilet, fully clothed, using it as a chair. He didn’t say much until Ed walked in to check on him and then he exclaimed (half-serious), “You’ve killed me, Eddie!”

  In the minutes that followed, it was determined that the wreck was a result of someone hosing down a nearby parking lot. The runoff had frozen on the street. Even a police officer responding to the accident fell victim to the ice patch. He had hardly taken a step out of his cruiser before he slipped and fell.

  An ambulance arrived, and with the help of the police cruiser everyone was taken to the University of Kentucky Hospital. After Ed was checked out, he walked over to the room where Jim’s ear was being stitched up. The room was not hard to find. All he had to do was follow the sounds of Shakespeare being recited. Ed found a doctor (with an unlit Cuban cigar hanging from his mouth) stitching up Jim’s ear while Jim bellowed out lines from Shakespeare. Jim told Ed that the sound of his voice helped drown out the sounds of being stitched up.

  When describing what caused the wreck to his parents, Jim mentioned a fictitious bunch of brothers he and Ed often blamed for their exploits. “Those Buzzard boys shot our tires out,” he explained to his mother. Luckily for everyone, it was something they had lived to joke about.

  • • •

  Despite X-rays and doctors’ examinations, no break was ever found in Jim’s collarbone. He was told that after the swelling went down, the injury would take care of itself. Unfortunately, his collarbone never looked the same. The right side tilted upward, forming a small lump. He became quite self-conscious about it and rarely wore open-necked shirts or anything else that exposed the area. It became yet another aspect of his physical appearance with which he was uncomfortable.

  But whatever consequence Jim felt his looks would have on his acting career, they didn’t seem to affect his love life in the least. By the summer of 1969, he was dating an actress friend named Julieanne Beasley (Author’s note: Today she is Julieanne Pogue). They had been in the same circle of friends for a while; Jim had even dated her sister for a short time. Beasley had first met Jim when she had starred in “Niccolo and Nicolette” with him at Lexington Children’s Theatre. She’d had a crush on him even then. Her father was an Army major (one of the original Green Berets), and her family had moved from Lexington to Okinawa and then to the Philippines for a good portion of her childhood. Her family returned to Lexington in June 1963, and she soon found herself acting with Jim once again.

  Beasley had immense respect for Jim’s ability as a stage actor while being equally impressed with the homespun characters he portrayed when entertaining friends. Today she says many of the hillbilly incarnations he was doing when they dated were “a breath away” from what would eventually become Ernest.

  The two young actors bonded on many levels. Beyond a shared love of the stage, there was an intellectual connection and a fascination with exploring many of the spiritual elements of the world. Today Pogue (nee Beasley) remembers Jim having a great sense of the profound elements of life and the universe. Beyond a mutual physical attraction (Beasley would go on to be crowned Miss Lexington in 1971 and was a Miss Kentucky runner-up that same year), Jim was one of the most charming people she had ever met.

  That summer the two found stage work at the Jenny Wiley Summer Theatre in Prestonsburg. They both starred in productions of “Carnival” and “Bye, Bye Birdie.” The director of “Birdie,” Jim Hazlett, has fond memories of Jim. Referring to him as a “wonderful clown,” Hazlett says that it was hard to tell sometimes when Jim was being serious. Offstage, Jim would constantly entertain with impressions and routines about such things as his grandmother’s Ford Mustang Cobra GT. Although Jim’s focus was sometimes lacking, his ability to endear himself to others made it difficult to dislike him. Perhaps one thing affecting his focus was the constant temptation to pursue new opportunities.

  Jim broke his contract with Jenny Wiley during “Birdie” to audition for a play in New York. He read for the role of Rocky in Sal Mineo’s “Fortune and Men’s Eyes,” which follows the story of a young man named Smitty who is sent to prison for six months for a first-time drug offense. An unflinching picture of the brutal nature of prison life unfolds as Smitty is sexually assaulted by more powerful inmates.

  Without a car, Jim still relied on friends and family to get around. Jim’s cousin Ed McChord, who had just gotten married, drove his new wife and Jim to New York so Jim could audition. Unfortunately, Jim didn’t get the part. Neither did Sylvester Stallone, Jim recounted years later. But Stallone’s many talents would soon become evident in “Rocky,” the compelling film about the hard-luck boxer who makes good. (Stallone was nominated for two Oscars in screenwriting and acting, and the film won Best Picture.)

  During Jim’s short trip to New York, he decided to ask Beasley to marry him when he returned to Kentucky. For engagement gifts, he bought her a pearl ring and a garnet necklace, as well as two items that reflected his mystical side: an athame (a ceremonial dagger used in Wiccan rituals) and a crystal ball. Garnet had special meaning for Beasley. It was the stone used in the engagement rings of her mother and grandmother. Beasley accepted Jim’s proposal. Their engagement lasted about a year and a half.

  During their time together, Beasley was aware of Jim’s drinking and how he often had an ornate flask of one kind or another in his pocket. She looks back today, having worked as a psychotherapist, and believes Jim might have been clinically depressed. Melancholic is a word she uses to describe him during their time together. But despite his drinking and depression, it was the long periods away from each other that doomed the relationship. Jim’s commitment to acting required him to be on the road constantly. This made it nearly impossible to keep up the relationship, and the two mutually agreed to end the engagement, remaining good friends. (Today Beasley, in addition to being a licensed psychotherapist specializing in trauma and attachment issues, is a theatrical director/choreographer/actor/designer/singer and a book narrator for Audible.com and elsewhere. Her projects include acting as stage director for the University of Kentucky opera and director of educational theater for Los Angeles schools out of L.A.’s Stella Adler Studio).

  Meanwhile, Jim found time to keep his promise to his father and earn his GED before starring in fall productions at the Studio Players in Lexington, including a pair of one-act plays written by English playwright Peter Shaffer. “The White Liars” and “Black Comedy” are commonly presented as a double-bill.

  In the dark comedy “The White Liars,” Jim played Tom, a lead singer in a rock band who visits a fortune teller with his manager at an English seaside resort. The manager attempts to bribe the fortune teller to use her abilities to put an end to the growing relationship between his girlfriend and Tom. In the farce “Black Comedy,” Jim pl
ayed Brindsley Miller, an unsuccessful sculptor who decides to steal his (apartment) neighbor’s antiques to impress the visiting father of his fiancée and a wealthy art collector. Mayhem erupts when a blown fuse causes the lights to go out just as the neighbor returns, followed by a surprise visit from Brindsley’s ex-mistress.

  Jim received rave reviews from local critics for the double-bill. “Varney is the hit of the evening, and the contrast in his handling of the two roles is remarkable,” wrote Mary Agnes Barnes of the Lexington Herald-Leader. She added, “Varney steals the show (“Black Comedy”) – and both works and suffers in doing it. He does so many pratfalls that I expect he’ll be black-and-blue by the time the show ends its run.” Another local critic, Richard Schwein, was equally impressed. In his review of Jim’s performance in “The White Liars” Schwein wrote, “He works easily with his put-on, working-class accent and ‘true’ middle-class London accent. His characterization of Tom is beyond reproach.”

  In the summer of 1970, Jim signed a contract to perform at the Pioneer Playhouse in nearby Danville, Ky. At the time, the playhouse was designated as the State Theatre of Kentucky. There he starred in “Boeing-Boeing,” playing an American journalist named Bernard who enjoys the playboy life while stationed in Paris, France. He manages to successfully juggle three flight-attendant girlfriends who all work separate transatlantic routes. His world becomes complicated when Boeing planes are upgraded, bringing faster flights that increase the women’s stopover times in Paris, causing them to overlap.

  In Billy Edd Wheeler’s musical comedy “Fire on the Mountain” Jim played a misogynist moonshiner named Uncle Jessie. The plot revolves around the arrival of a Yankee missionary social worker named Prissy into an Appalachian community. She opens a Bible school and is soon at odds with Jessie’s nephew and his girlfriend over their living arrangement. Pioneer Playhouse’s late founder, Eben Henson, was impressed with Jim’s talent. Although actors such as Lee Majors and John Travolta also graced the stage of Pioneer Playhouse in their formative years, Henson once said that Jim was perhaps “the most unusual actor” ever to perform there. He also said that Jim packed houses night after night during the two-week run of “Mountain.”

  Henson was also involved in taking “Mountain” to a venue in Tennessee, with Jim reprising his role of Uncle Jessie. At the Third Masque Dinner Theatre in Chattanooga, Jim impressed audiences and earned praise from critics such as Robert Cooper of the Chattanooga Times who wrote, “Jim Varney as Uncle Jessie is the outstanding member of this excellent cast. Playing the part of a woman-hating moonshiner, the unfolding of his change of heart is something to see. He is truly a fine actor and presents the hillbilly character in a hilariously believable manner.” Jim remained in Chattanooga through the fall and winter of 1970, performing in plays such as “Guys and Dolls,” “Champagne Complex” and “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.”

  One of Jim’s many haunts after returning home to Lexington was the green room of the University of Kentucky’s Guignol Theatre. The green room served as the unofficial hangout for theater students, and although Jim never actually attended U.K., he enjoyed catching up with students who were old friends from high school and his neighborhood. It was there Jim met Charles Edward Pogue through Beasley. Pogue remembers Jim as a “vagabond strolling player” who showed up for two or three weeks at a time and held court as he talked about his travels and entertained with his crazy cast of characters. The students were enthralled to be in the presence of a “working actor.” (Today, Pogue is a noted screenwriter whose credits include “The Fly” – 1986; “Psycho III” – 1986; and “Dragonheart” – 1996).

  Jim once accompanied Pogue and Beasley to their modern British drama class, where Harold Pinter’s “The Homecoming” was being discussed. (Author’s note: Pogue and Beasley are now married.) Jim had just finished touring with a company that had performed the play. He ended up leading the whole class in a discussion and performing scenes that included parts in addition to his own.

  Pogue says everyone had “Varney stories” along with himself during this time. Pogue actually wrote a term paper in a folklore class that consisted of many of these tales of Jim’s exploits. He received an “A” and wishes today he had followed his professor’s advice to make a copy before handing it in. Being the final paper of the semester, it was not returned.

  Although trips to U.K.’s green room no doubt boosted Jim’s ego, actors on the big screen seemed to convince him that his appearance would limit his potential. The movie “Wuthering Heights” was released in theaters around this time. Jim’s sister Jake was working with a girl who had seen the movie and noticed how much the actor playing Heathcliff resembled Jim. Jake took Jim to see it without mentioning what her friend had said. Jake said Jim was spellbound when he saw Timothy Dalton and acknowledged the resemblance. Maybe that helped Jim to one day see himself on the big screen. Or maybe it did the opposite, showing him a more polished version of himself that he would never be, like a brother who had gotten the better mix of genes.

  In February 1972, a new opportunity arose for Jim, one that would further his acting career. He joined Fantastick Productions. Headquartered in Kingsport, Tenn., it was the state’s only professional touring company at that time. The actors would meet in Kingsport to rehearse before heading out to perform in elementary and high schools throughout the state. They usually performed well-known children’s stories such as “Rumpelstiltskin” and “Snow White.” For the older children, the company performed more mature dramas presented in modern versions, such as “Antigone.”

  For many of the children attending, it was their first experience of a live show with professional actors. With two shows a day, the company was able to perform in front of thousands of kids by the end of the tour. Just as the live TV airing of “Peter Pan” had captured Jim’s imagination as a 6-year-old, his participation in Fantastick Productions’ work helped pass on the excitement of live theater to a new generation.

  As the tour wound down, Jim and some of his fellow actors heard news of a theme park opening in Nashville called Opryland, started by the founders of the Grand Ole Opry, the famous country-music venue. The park was set to open in the summer of 1972, and the call was out for all types of talent to perform in their large outdoor shows. They wanted to offer more than entertainment based on a country-music theme. According to research and multiple interviews I did for this book, it wasn’t long before Jim and a fellow actor from Fantastick, Melissa Ferrell, were performing at the new attraction. Although Jim didn’t know it yet, this chapter of his life was leading him straight to Ernest.

  In one of the Opryland folk shows, Jim played the part of an old man even though he was all of 23. Jim once said that just about every skill he had listed on his resume was used when performing at Opryland. Along with acting, Jim got a chance to sing and even played the dulcimer.

  Yet despite the growing success, Jim was still self-conscious about his appearance. He thought he couldn’t advance his career without changing it. He felt his nose was too large, his mouth too wide. There was little he thought could be done about his mouth, but he believed that with a more refined nose his face would look more symmetrical and handsome.

  In August 1972, Jim finally made the decision to undergo a procedure to change his nose. The surgery was called a septorhinoplasty. It is a combination of rhinoplasty and septoplasty surgeries. Rhinoplasty is the cosmetic portion and septoplasty the corrective procedure that fixes the deviated septum. It took place at Central Baptist Hospital in Lexington. Jim’s sister Jake was working at the hospital at the time as an X-ray technician and knew many of the staff involved in his surgery. She remembers one of the medical students finding it interesting to see the profession of “actor” written on her brother’s chart.

  Jim recuperated at his parents’ house. He looked as if he had been beaten up. His eyes were black, and purple streaks ran across his swollen cheeks. A large bandage covered his nose and was taped to each side of
his face, while his hair stuck out of the bandages in all directions.

  One day, sister Jo Gail stopped by to visit and brought along her daughter, Shannon, who was almost 3. As soon as Shannon walked into the house, she was taken aback by Jim’s bandaged face and clammed up. Knowing Shannon had been getting in trouble for climbing on kitchen counters at her home, Jim and his mother decided they would have fun with her. He asked Shannon, “I guess you’re wondering what happened to me, huh? Well, I was climbing on Mama’s counters in the kitchen and fell. She had been telling me to keep off of them but I didn’t listen.” He said this with a straight face while Jo Gail and his mother went along. “That’s right,” Jim’s mother added, “Now I don’t know if he will ever look like himself again.” Needless to say, that broke Shannon of climbing for a while.

  When it was time for Jim’s bandages to come off, he was given a metal nose-protector to wear. He still had swelling in his face and around his eyes, which had turned a yellowish green. Because of the thickness of the skin on his nose he had been told he would need a follow-up surgery later on. But he seemed pleased with the results, which had given his nose a more “Roman” look. He was hopeful the second surgery would improve it even more.

  CHAPTER NINE: FINDING GLORY WITH CHERRY

  Although Jim longed to grace the stage of a major Broadway production, he still had to make a living in the meantime. In Tennessee Jim continued to find one opportunity after another. Perhaps it was fitting that an advertising agency based in Nashville ultimately provided Jim the opportunity of a lifetime, one that would lead to Tennessee becoming his permanent home. According to Joe Liles, in the fall of 1972, Melissa Ferrell got auditions for herself and Jim through a new talent agency in Nashville called TML (Talent and Model Land). A woman named Betty Clark ran it, and Clark sent the two out for commercials. Jim soon caught the eye of advertising men Thom Ferrell (no relation to Melissa) and John Cherry.