With both “Straw Dogs” and “Killer Elite” playing in theaters, I feel it’s the moment to tell what it felt like to be directed by Sam Peckinpah. The new “Killer Elite” is not the same script as Peckinpah's, but it is the same title.
In 1975 he cast me in the original. For the audition I was told to look sexy. I wore a blue suede dress from St. Tropez that had a Tarzan’s Jane look to it. It was cut low. It had a Native American feel, and I thought Sam — who claimed to be part Native American — would “cotton” to it.
When I walked into his office, he was seated and wearing a blue and white paisley bandana covering his forehead. He had a deep tan, wrinkled skin and sparkling mischievous eyes. “Walk around for me?” he said, sternly. Like a good obedient actress on an audition, I did as I was told. Minutes later I was told I could leave.
Leaving, I passed my competition a stunning Veronica Hamel, who had starred in “Hill Street Blues.” She was wearing a suit. Why, I wondered!
Later that day, my agent called to say I had been cast, Sam had liked the dress I had worn on the audition so much that he asked me to wear it for the filming. Great, I thought!
I was told to go at 6 a.m. to a shooting site in Marina Del Rey. When I appeared, wardrobe asked me if I wanted a B-12 shot, cocaine or a drink. Though I was not yet sober, I chose the B-12 shot.
Jimmy Caan, Burt Young and Bobby Duvall were part of the cast. When I got to the set, it was a party scene, Sam introduced me to these stars and seated me close to the camera in front of a cast of about 20.
He sauntered around the set instructing wardrobe to open the other girls’ blouses to afford maximum cleavage. Then make-up — black grease — was put under all the other actresses’ eyes. I looked at him and thought, “You do that to me, and I’m walking,” He left me alone.
After we filmed, several girls were put in back rooms and I heard a woman sobbing and saying "no," but it was not my place to object or even to inquire. Later I wished I had reported Sam to SAG, but then I would have been blackballed.
About an hour passed. Sam came to me and said, “This scene was not in the script you read, Carole, but I have just written a bedroom scene with you and Jimmy. You can leave on your underwear.” Sam did not smile but had a stern,” do as I say, or…” expression.
“Now what?” I thought. So this was like it was to work with the great Sam Peckinpah.
Jimmy Caan was cordial and acted innocent. He and I kissed and faked romance. The crew stood around leering and snickering then Jimmy said, “Want to go to dinner later?” I told him I had plans — which I did.
Months later, when I saw “Killer Elite,” there was no bedroom scene, and I wondered if Sam had had film in the camera. I understood why Veronica Hamil had worn a suit to the audition.
Recently I researched Sam on Wikipedia and read that during the filming of the film, Caan had turned Sam onto cocaine.
Some time after the filming an intoxicated Sam dove into the pool of a hotel, but there was no water in it, yet he lived. Sam Peckinpah led the tragic life of a practicing alcoholic and addict. When I became sober in 1980, I felt sorry for him and realized he had a disease much like I had. No wonder he was obsessed with violence.
Eventually, I forgave Sam who was just another talented alcoholic/ addict. Oh, I know he made some great movies, but what could he have achieved if he had gotten sober?
