Detroit Free Press from Detroit, Michigan • Page 169

6mk9 db. flDdDuQaoQ, A a ft nonaEsG C3S rannircB "There was something about that kid. He had something," says the famous director of young Mark Deming, recalling the moment at U-M when he spotted him. The kid looks across the picnic table at his idol, grinning at the wonder of it all by SUSAN STARK F'lhen filmmaker Robert Altman throws a If wedding, everybody comes, even if it's a typically uncomfortable summer day. One look at the crowd and you think you have died and gone to star-gawker's heaven.

Lillian Gish, Carol Burnett, Geraldine Chaplin, Vittorio Gassman, Dina Merrill, Desi Arnaz, Mia Farrow, Howard Duff, auren Hutton, Viveca Lindfors, Mark Deming they're all there. Mark who? Cut away from the Lester Armour mansion in we found we needed one more usher and it came to me: him. The rest, as they say, is history." Altman goes back inside, probably to get in a few more strokes with the fly swatter, which is how he passes the long, dull stretches between takes. "The whole story of how this started is so crazy that sometimes I don't really understand it myself," Mark says. "I guess he liked the way I stood up for myself, the way I just kept going.

What I wanted to ask him was why his endings leave things unresolved. "I knew what I wanted to say but I couldn't get it out. I mean, there I was, my turn at the microphone. And then there he is, this guy. Robert Altman.

And he's waiting to hear anything in the world I wanted to say. Well, I started saying things and the audience started laughing at me. I figured, well, I've gotten this far and I'm just going to go ahead with this. So I did. Then I wanted to disappear into my seat and never be seen again.

"A couple days later my brother Phil calls our house and says, 'Robert Altman wants I couldn't figure out what he was talking about, but he told me to look at the Free Press and see for myself. There it was, a notice that the person who did the rambling monologue at Altman 's appearance should call a certain number. So I called the number and identified myself. "Next thing I know, I'm in my room listening to some music or something and my mom comes in tells me I have a phone call. I say and the voice on the other end says, 'Hello.

This is Robert I just about flipped out right there. He asked me to come to Chicago and talk to the casting director for 'A So they flew me and my mom to Chicago for the day. They explained everything about the film, my part, how long it would take, the pay and then they asked, 'Well, do you really want to do I said 'Yes, I A few minutes later they said, 'Okay Mark, you've got the I was very surprised. I didn't do a screen test. They didn't even ask me to do a reading.

Apparently, they were very sure about what they wanted and I was it. "I didn't know then and I'm still not sure about what, exactly, they did want. Judging from the way I was talking that night in Ann Arbor, they probably want someone who is respectful, very nice, and very confused." Ilhose who know Altman's unconventional A casting methods can't be surprised by the story of how Mark Deming got into the movies. Back in 1970, when he was making "Brewster McCloud" in Dallas, Altman found Shelley Duvall, who had never acted, at a cocktail party and wrote her into the movie. And there have been others, many others.

Hiring unknowns or nonprofessionals because of some striking quality, then allowing them to be themselves on screen is business as usual for the maverick Altman. Shelley Duvall, of course, took to the experience as if she were born an actress. Midway through the two-month shooting schedule for "A Wedding," Mark Deming is ambivalent. On one hand, he says without hesitation, that being cast in Altman's film is the most memorable thing that has ever happened to him. On the other hand, he has discovered that waiting takes up more of an actor's time than acting.

And even when he is on camera, he's not certain if he's any good. DEMING Susan Stark is the Free Press film critic exclusive Lake Bluff, 111., 40 miles north of Chicago, where Altman is shooting "A Wedding." Pick up Altman standing front and center on the question of his own: "Are you asking a question or is this an audition?" The lad continues, but by now, everyone, including Altman, is laughing with not at him. When he runs out of steam, he slinks back to his seat. Back to Lake Bluff. Altman, carrying a giant glass of iced tea, leaves the mansion while the lighting men begin the acduous task of setting up for a new shot.

He strolls over to one of the picnic tables where some of the cast and crew (and all of the flies) are lunching. 'There was something about that kid. He had something," Altman says, recalling the moment in Hill Auditorium. The kid looks across the picnic table at his idol, grinning at the wonder of it all. The kid is Mark Deming of Saginaw, 17 years old last February 19, and a movie star right alongside the best of them.

Altman continues. "Most everyone else would have sat down but he just went right on. Two or three times. After he finished, I thought to myself that I should send someone out to find him, just for futures. But I didn't.

I had nothing specific for him in mind, certainly nothing in this film. But a few days later stage of Hill Auditorium in Ann Arbor. It is. 8 p.m., Saturday, April 23, 1977. Altman is taking questions about his work from a crowd of film buffs, the climactic event of a Robert Altman film festival staged on the U-M campus.

A skinny lad with thick glasses approaches the microphone to ask a question. Words come out, and then more words. But they do not form a question. The lad persists, rocking back and forth, thrusting one hand in and out of his trouser pocket, punctuating the misbehaving words with nervous laughter. The crowd snickers and hoots.

Still, the lad goes on. About a minute into the monologue, Altman, looking mischievous, interrupts with a When Robert Altman (right), director of such noted films as "M-A-S-H" and "Nashville," asked Mark Deming (left and opposite page) if he wanted a role In "A Wedding," Mark, naturally, said, do!".