Free Merv by Merv Griffin Page B

yet. On the other hand, major stars like Danny Kaye, Montgomery Clift, and Harry Belafonte all agreed to do my show because I’d already proven myself subbing for Paar. The New York Times ran a feature story that said “ The Tonight Show looks better in the afternoon.” And my most important critic—my mother—gave me her highest praise: “Buddy, I like your show better than Lawrence Welk .”
    The problem for the network (and ultimately for me) was that The Tonight Show generated four times more in advertising revenue than my little afternoon show.
    After only three weeks on the air, The Merv Griffin Show was preempted by the Giants-Yankees World Series, which was broadcast on NBC that year. During the break, we took the show over to London to tape some interviews.
    Our big coup in England turned out to be landing the first American interview with a young actor named Peter O’Toole, who’d just completed shooting a motion picture called Lawrence of Arabia . I’d been following the press reports about this soon-to-be classic film even before O’Toole was cast in the part. (I’ll bet you didn’t know that Marlon Brando had initially agreed to play Lawrence—it was announced in the newspapers—before changing his mind and backing out. Then Albert Finney was given a screen test, but he turned down the role as well. Try picturing either of them on that camel crossing the desert. Can’t do it, can you?)
    The Columbia press agent had pitched Peter O’Toole to us aggressively. After all, he was still a virtual unknown and no one had actually seen the film yet. So when we agreed to tape the interview, the studio people were tremendously excited. They arranged for us to meet the actor at his home in Blackheath. On the appointed day, we caravanned out to this quiet residential neighborhood in three huge television trucks and a line of cars. When we pulled up in front of O’Toole’s house it resembled a parade. Bob Shanks went up to the front door and rang the bell. The maid answered and politely informed him that, “The mister is not in. May I tell him who rang?” We were madder than hell (but not very smart; he was in the corner pub, a block away). We spent the entire trip back to our hotel cursing out the press agent, who was mortified.
    There is only one real job requirement for a press agent and that’s an unlimited capacity for humiliation. This guy had no shame. The next day he was back on the phone to us, apologizing profusely and begging us to give O’Toole another chance. “I’ll lose my job,” he pleaded. I thought of pointing out to him that with clients like this, he’d be better off unemployed. But I finally relented.
    That afternoon the handsome brown-haired actor with piercing blue eyes came to our hotel and gave one of the funniest interviews I’ve ever done. He did a funny recounting of all of the accidents that happened to him during the making of Lawrence .
    When we were done taping, I said, “Peter when are you coming over to the States?”
    “In three months, for the premiere in New York.” He turned to the press agent, who looked very relieved now that the interview from hell was finally over.
    “Mark this down,” said O’Toole, grandly. “I will only do Merv’s show when I’m in America.”
    True to his word, when he arrived in New York that December we booked O’Toole for an exclusive interview. As was my custom, I didn’t see him before the show (I’m always afraid that any conversation I have with a guest prior to taping will spoil the interview’s spontaneity).
    The moment arrived for him to walk out and I gave him a huge buildup.
    “Remember when we spoke with this brilliant young actor in England just a few months ago,” I told the audience. “Now he’s joining us again on the eve of the release of Lawrence of Arabia , which I believe will be regarded as one of the great films of all time. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Peter O’Toole!”
    Out walked a