Taking cues from Queens
Ray Romano’s new film “Somewhere in Queens” he created, stars, produced, wrote and directed.
With my usual gentility, I asked, “What the hell do you know about writing a movie?”
“Nothing. I knew nothing. Never done it before. Never written before. I sat at a laptop and talked to a writer I knew. And I didn’t even want to direct. Too scared. Terrified. First timer me directing pros? My agent talked me into it. The initial week of prep gave me such chest pains I had to go to a cardiologist.
“Six years to write the script. Three years of COVID. Another year for financing. I know the topic. ‘Somewhere in Queens’? I know Queens. But once I started, first day filming, I was armed and in battle.”
Semi-autobiographical, the film deals with father (played by Ray) and son.
“In real life I graduated high school, played basketball and then my actual son became a basketball star. So this shows what happened as a result of the attention I had begun to get. It’s family scenes. The old pizza place. The table of pasta and meatballs at home.
“My father was a civil engineer. Mom taught piano at Juilliard, stopped to be a mother, and passed away while we were filming. She lived in our same small house which got sold six months ago. Working in a gas station and delivering futons, I lived in it until I was 29.
“The film’s my life. I’m born in Queens.”
Now it’s a big Andrew Saffir screening, guests in long gowns, Ray in an off-white cashmere jacket that this film should make enough to pay for and — replacing the small house — a plane home to LA.
Deep thoughts
INTO self-help, Matthew McConaughey’s bringing the Internet videos and emails to an event, four hours Monday. He says we need more time to do stuff that truly matters. Whatever this is, it’s called “The Art of Livin.’ ” For reasons obscure he leaves the “g” off all words. Wow! — what a reat idea.
The end of a specter-cular run
NOW the hoopla’s all over, I remember January 1988’s “Phantom” opening. It had an $18 million advance. It was our New York Post front page.
Snow. Wind howling. Donald showed. Alone. Posed for photos. Mayor Ed Koch: “I’m dieting but had a little nosh before I came.” Molly Ringwald said: “I’d really love to be on Broadway.” The incredibly brilliant Andrew Lloyd Webber’s date was his mom from London. Fortified with a pre-opening nip he showed — in tux, no coat — precisely at curtain time.
After-theater party was at 74th Street’s Beacon Theatre. A parade of sables. Linda Lavin, Claire Trevor, Audrey Meadows, Arlene Francis, Beverly Sills — all in sable. Barbara Walters’ will left that sable coat to me. Minus spirits, the party cost quarter of a mil.
Chew on this
RESTAURANTWISE the new kid on the block — in the theater at Lincoln Center — is Café Paradiso. It features original Mark Kostabi paintings of “La Dolce Vita,” “Roman Holiday,” “Nuovo Cinema Paradiso.”
The creator’s Shelly Fireman, known for Cafe Fiorello, Trattoria dell’Arte, Redeye Grill and Bond 45.
WOW-EE! Chicago’s selected for our Democratic National Convention and possible Biden resuscitation. Chicago, the only place where a kid can play cops and robbers by himself.
NOT only in New York, kids, not only in New York.
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2023-04-18 23:42:00Z
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