I Blame Dennis Hopper by Illeana Douglas Page B

insisting there still wasn’t enough. He said, “You see, in poor Roman’s mind there would probably never be ‘enough blood’ to match the horror of what he had once witnessed.” Which was, of course, the bloody scene of his wife Sharon Tate’s murder. And the way my grandfather told me that story, with such helpless empathy, has stayed with me all these years.
    We were in the apartment on Riverside Drive when he handed me a paperback book and said that it was going to be his next movie. The book was Being There, by Jerzy Kosiński. He said, “And if it’s done right, it could be something quite interesting.” He told me that Peter Sellers was going to play Chance the Gardener. My eyes lit up. Peter Sellers? From The Pink Panther ? By this time, my room at home was a collage of movie posters, magazine covers, and pictures of my favorite actors and actresses. Peter Sellers was one of those smiling faces who watched over me. My poster from The Return of the Pink Panther was next to a pink People magazine cover on which he appeared. This was next to Peter Sellers on a cover of Fate Magazine: True Stories of the Strange and Unknown, which had an article discussing his interest in ESP and psychics.
    I was excited to see my grandfather work, but I was over the moon to meet Peter Sellers. He was a movie star! Inspector Clouseau! I loved watching movies—I wanted to be in the movies—but as I’ve said, I was still on the outside, watching movies as an audience member. I still didn’t understand that there was a director, and a crew, and a whole lot of folks behind the scenes who actually made a movie. For me, it was still all pictures and posters on my wall, movie stars such as Peter Sellers, and the characters they played, such as Inspector Clouseau. Now my grandfather was going to make me an insider, and that, I realized, was even more fun.
    Some of the scenes in Being There were shot at a mansion called Biltmore House, in Asheville, North Carolina. My grandfather was staying at a hotel nearby, aptly called the Grand Bohemian. People always ask me, Did your grandfather ever give you advice? And the answer is Yes, he did. Here’s the most important thing he taught me. We were at the Grand Bohemian and once again he was ordering food for delivery.
    He said, “Illeana, you want to be an actress, I want you to remember one fact. Wherever you are, whatever country you are in, if you don’t know what to order from room service, always get the club sandwich. It will always be good.”
    I can’t tell you how many times I have arrived at a hotel late at night—whether it’s in Toronto or Madrid or Shreveport, Louisiana—skimmed through the menu, and thought, Grandpa’s right. Order the club sandwich! Best advice I’ve ever got, and I’m passing it on to you, courtesy of Melvyn Douglas.
    We got up at dawn, and someone drove us to what looked to my young eyes like the grandest, most magical castle I had ever seen. Once again, everyone was so friendly! So helpful! My grandfather had said, “Films result from the collective efforts of many human beings.” I was beginning to understand what he meant. My grandfather had a bit of a cold, so someone immediately brought him some tea. A man with long white hair and a crazy beard smiled at me and said to a woman holding a large notebook, “Mel’s granddaughter is on set; can we please find a place for her to sit?” This man with the long white hair and crazy beard seemed to be in charge, because when he spoke things happened very quickly. Immediately a director’s chair was found for me and then placed next to the woman with the large notebook. She smiled at me and asked, “You’re Mel’s granddaughter?”
    I nodded, feeling shy all of a sudden.
    â€œHave you ever been on a movie set before?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “It’s a lot of