The trial of Phil Spector starts tomorrow. He's accused of murdering a young actress named Lana Clarkson. I gather the case comes down to the fact that (a) Spector is a known looney and alcoholic who was drinking that night and has a history of irrational actions, some involving firearms and (b) there's testimony that at the murder scene, Spector said he'd shot her accidentally. Those are pretty damning facts. Against this, his attorneys intend to argue that Clarkson obviously committed suicide in the home of this rich guy she'd just met, and that the two men who say Spector said what he said cannot be believed because…well, uh, we all know that when someone dies at your home, the first police officer on the scene and your chauffeur always try to pin it on you.
Obviously, that's a pretty shaky defense but Spector has brought in a heavyweight legal team and there's a reason those guys get paid as much as they do. Also, O.J. Simpson and Robert Blake have done much to destroy the concept of the Open-and-Shut Case, especially against celebrities. True, they were able to argue that they weren't there when the murders were committed and Spector can't…but he has more money than either and that's gotta be worth something.
It all sounds like a courtroom drama I really, really don't want to follow. I met Lana Clarkson a few times when she was dating a friend of mine. She seemed very nice and very smart, and I'm positive I won't be watching when Spector's lawyers start killing her all over, trying to sell the idea that her career was in ruins and that she was suicidal. I didn't know her well enough to say with any authority that the latter wasn't the case but it sure doesn't jibe with the Lana I saw. What I am sure of is that almost everyone who acts for a living has those periods when the prospects of future work look as remote as hers might have at certain points…and that that's almost never a reason for picking up a gun and exiting stage left.
One of the fascinating (some might say "maddening") things about show business is that on Tuesday at 2:00, it can feel like no one will ever again let you within fifty yards of a camera or audience and that you stand a better chance of tap-dancing to Jupiter than of getting another acting gig. And then at 2:30, you get a call for an audition, they see you at 5:00 and Thursday morning, you're in make-up and a movie. That doesn't happen as often as you might like but it happens often enough that you have to go a long time — certainly longer than Lana had — before you believe it's all over. Lack of roles alone is rarely a motive for putting yourself in the Variety obituary column. In fact, it may be the opposite. You want to wait until that obit's going to be a little longer.
I think what I'm trying to say here is that while anyone could be irrational to the point of suicide, I'm suspicious of the simple explanation like, "She decided to kill herself because she hadn't had an acting job in a while." That always sounds to me like something a beginning screenwriter comes up with after they take one of those courses that teaches you to give every character a simple, one-line motivation for everything they do. In real life, it's never that uncomplicated. Richard Jeni had plenty of bookings lined up and offers.
I'm thinking I need to do something to affect the outcome of this trial and I don't mean what happens in the courtroom. I can't do anything about that. But I can do something to limit the damage that this trial does to me. I can not follow it. This may be rough — as you can see from a few posts back here, I still have a Pavlovian interest in the O.J. case — but I'm going to do my best. If this isn't the last mention of Phil Spector on this site until the verdict is read, we'll all know I've failed.