Title: Sal Mineo: A Biography
Author: Michael Gregg Michaud
Genre: Biography, non-fiction
URL: Amazon
Price: $25.99
Other Information/warnings: Frank discussions of sexuality, underage sex
Summary (from the GoodReads): Actor Sal Mineo (1939-1976) lived just 37 years, but as this striking biography vividly shows, in that short span he experienced many of life's extremes. This Bronx-born son of Sicilian coffin makers went rapidly from Rebel Without A Cause stardom to sudden obscurity while still in his mid-twenties; then to a mysterious stabbing death in a Hollywood alley. Michael Gregg Michaud's new biography offers a penetrating, account of a life that has struck more than one early reader as film-worthy.
My Review: Today, if you say Rebel Without A Cause, chances are the first name that will cross anyone's lips is James Dean. If you're lucky, one might first say Natalie Wood, but without a doubt, it is Dean that everyone remembers. People tend not to remember Sal Mineo's name. But when you mention the character of Plato, people will generally go "Oh, yeah, that kid. He was great." But no one remembers the actor behind the performance. Hopefully, Michael Gregg Michaud's new biography of Mineo (and James Franco's forthcoming bio-pic based upon it) will rectify that situation and put the spotlight back on an outstanding actor who died just as tragically as Dean and Wood, albeit, long after he had fallen from the spotlight.
Now, far from perfect, Michaud's book is a first and foremost a loving tribute to Mineo, an amazing actor who was twice nominated for an Academy Award (Rebel Without a Cause and Exodus). Relying on vintage interviews, letters, and news reports, Michaud builds Mineo's early life, depicting a driven young kid from the Bronx who one day discovers acting. Michaud paints out the dynamics of Mineo's family life before his ascent to fame resulting in an almost stereotypical New York-Italian family: tight-knit, loving, poor. But as Mineo begins to experience some success on the stage (and later television), the book focuses primarily of Sal's relationship with his mother: of her initial protectiveness of Sal and his career, to her misguided attempt to make certain that Sal felt no more special than her other kids by spending Sal's money on them as well. It's an interesting dynamic and I have to give Michaud props for doing it well. As the book continues into "Mineo Mania" (after Rebel, fan reaction to Mineo was on a par with the later Beatles phenom), we slowly and subtly see the relationship morph into one which will clearly influence Sal's almost desperate need for control later in life. It would have been easy to paint Mrs. Mineo as a villain, a harpy stage mother who took advantage of her son's fame and finances. But Michaud doesn't do that. He doesn't paint her black or white. He lets her develop.
With so much attention paid to Mrs. Mineo, the rest of Sal's family takes a major backseat. Although Michaud tells us how important Sal's father was to him, Mr. Mineo is hardly present in the book...almost a non-character; so it is really difficult to see how Sal's devotion and near reverence of him takes root. Other than occasional references to his brothers Mike (who gets the most attention) and Vic (who gets almost none) and sister, his siblings are likewise non-existent. The world of early Sal is clearly Sal and his mother. Now, whether this was a choice Michaud made to help explain Sal's later life or whether he simply didn't have the material available to flesh out the rest of the family is not clear and--in my opinion--a flaw.
Now, one of the earliest criticisms I saw of this book was that the time spent on Sal's relationship with James Dean and the filming of Rebel is a relatively small part of the book. And this is true. Those going into this book expecting salacious details of that time or some implication that Dean and Mineo were lovers will be greatly disheartened. Yes, the Rebel section is fairly minor in the grand scheme of this book. But that's not a flaw here. Rebel was the beginning of Sal's career and I again have to give kudos to Michaud for not making it Rebel heavy to satisfy Dean fans. It is, after all, a biography of Mineo and while pivotal and important in Sal's life, it was just the beginning. And Michaud does this period of Sal's life proud. The time spent of Rebel is done so masterfully, the relationship between Dean and Mineo deftly drawn...as strong and as intensely homoerotic as the relationship between Jim Stark and Plato, their respective characters in the film.
The mid-section of the book--where Sal's post-Rebel success propels him and his career forward--is where we first see Mineo struggling with control...the need to take charge of his own life and career. Immediately typecast as as juvie, Sal struggles to break free of that image even as his mother (acting as his manager) keeps selecting such roles for him, and producers can't seem to offer him any roles beyond what he had already played. He is awash in fame and adulation. Girls scream and chase him. His records sell like hot cakes. Yet, the roles he is offered just don't seem to correspond. It's an odd point in his life. Massive success without forward movement and Mineo gets lost in it.
It is here where Mineo begins his relationship Jill Haworth, his 14 year old co-star in Exodus, and perhaps the greatest female love of his life. At first lovers (they even became engaged at one point), they would remain friends for the rest of Sal's life, and the later part of the book relies heavily on Haworth's recollections of those days. After losing the Oscar for Exodus, we see Mineo once again typecast, albeit in a different type. One would think the second Oscar nomination would have led to more opportunities, but Hollywood once again could not see him any other way. This is part testament to Mineo's talent and the curse of it.
The descent of Sal's star is contrasted with the rising of Haworth's, who would go on to create the role of Sally Bowles in the Broadway production of Cabaret. There was clearly great love between the two, but the relationship between Mineo and Haworth is a complex one. In their meeting is perhaps the first sight of how Mineo begins to rely upon sex as a means of control and manipulation. Mineo begins to realize that his looks and his magnetism give him a measure of control in his personal life that he is so missing in his professional one. In that respect, Mineo uses Haworth as both beard and pawn. But, to Michaud's credit, you also never doubt his honest love for her.
As Mineo's star falls even harder, we see him valiantly trying to create opportunities for himself. Yet, each attempt seems to fall apart in his hands, and we find him focusing on others, trying to help create new stars. But there is a darkness behind it, Mineo's use of sex almost disturbing and possessive. And, in fact, it is when Mineo fixates on a young Bobby Sherman that his and Haworth's relationship hits a rough patch that will take years to repair.
The later part of the book also relies heavily on the recollections of the male love-of-his-life, Courtney Burr. Through Burr's eyes (and, through the eyes of Haworth with whom Mineo ultimately reconciled), we learn of the final years of Sal's life and his valiant efforts to rebuild something of a career for himself. It is also here that we get to see some of the less attractive sides of people who orbited the later years of Sal's life. Roddy McDowell comes off particularly heinous and Bobby Sherman fares no better. Though not as badly portrayed as the former two, Don Johnson comes off as a sycophantic opportunist. (David Cassidy, on the other hand, comes off extremely well). In this section of the book, it is Burr who seems to ground Mineo and who becomes not only his lover, but a sort of protector. His influence is a good one. But, on the cusp of resurrecting his career and embarking on an exciting new life with Burr, Mineo is cut down tragically outside of his apartment in West Hollywood.
In the end, this biography is fascinating. Michaud shows us all sides of Mineo, the good and the petty and ugly side. But because he makes us love Sal in the beginning of the book, we tend to be more forgiving of him by the time we face the not-so-attractive side of him. Still, there are a few things it is hard to overlook about the man, in particular his apparent predilection for underage lovers. But even in that we see a man desperately searching for control and for the childhood he never seemed to have had. Michaud doesn't make us forgive him of that, but he does let us understand it a little bit.
My major qualm with the book is that it relies so heavily on the recollections of Haworth and Burr, two people who clearly loved him deeply. In fact, no one, it seems, didn't like Sal. And that, frankly, calls into question the objectivity of the author. It comes off a bit one-sided. It would have been nice to have heard from people who didn't recall Mineo so fondly. And this also calls into question the biting remarks about McDowell, Johnson and Sherman. Granted, McDowell is gone and could not participate (even if he would have wanted to, which is doubtful given he remained closeted until the day he died), but Sherman and Johnson are still around. It would have been interesting to have heard their perspectives and, frankly, it would have been nice to give them a little rebuttal time given their portrayals in the book. Of course, the author might have pursued interviews, but this can't be known for certain.
Still, the bio is incredibly entertaining. Michaud will make you fall in love with Mineo, painting a vivid portrait of fascinating man. And, perhaps more importantly, he will help to shine the light on an incredibly talented, powerful actor who is largely forgotten...but shouldn't be.
