Ageism in Hollywood Is an Old Story

The first time I met Milt Rosen he was wearing a Chairman Mao cap, complete with red star. Communism may be out of fashion, but on a 72-year-old man with a mane of gray hair and a white beard, the effect was jaunty. He looked like a character from “Reds,” ready to spin yarns about revolutionary days with John Reed and the gang.

It was a surprise to learn that Milt Rosen lives in Northridge, not Venice or Berkeley. He’s a writer who witnessed and encouraged the rise of the evil empire that is television. And though Milt insists that he is really and truly a leftist at heart, he now makes a bit of money penning one-liners for a Republican by the name of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Like the one Arnold told during the last campaign, introducing Gov. Pete Wilson at a fund-raiser: “Kathleen Brown says she’s going to create a million jobs. So how come her brother isn’t working?”

Milt Rosen was a junior high school English teacher in the Bronx when he started writing routines for stand-up comics in the ‘50s. His career in TV is long and varied--comedy, drama and variety shows. Now that he writes for Arnold, Milt’s wife accuses him of prostituting his talents, but she doesn’t mind spending the money. Whatever.

Milt believes in comedy for comedy’s sake. He figures a good line is a good line, whether it’s written by a 72-year-old guy who hung out at Lindy’s in the ‘50s or a 21-year-old whiz kid fresh from the Harvard Lampoon.

And that was his point over lunch the other day--to rail against “the gray wall” of show biz, “the barrier against older writers, older directors, older everything.”

Pardon the pun, but ageism is an old story. In a Hollywood obsessed with being hip and youthful, it’s not hard to understand Milt Rosen’s complaint. Some stars may be allowed to age gracefully, but people who put words in their mouths receive no such indulgence. He sadly told a story about a famous TV producer, himself in his 70s, who surveyed a room of writers and declared: “There’s too much gray hair in here.”

Why is it, Milt wonders, that Hollywood believes that only the young deliver new ideas? Why is it that so many movies are now sequels? Why is it that so many new shoes are retreads of the old? “The networks feel people over 30 are not aware with what’s going on, as if the new shows are so unique,” he complained.

Milt says one of the touted new series “is about a family of five orphans in the West.” Well, in the ‘60s, Milt wrote “The Monroes.” That series, which survived but one season against the tough competition of “The Virginian,” was about a family of five orphans growing up in the West.

But now Milt is plotting a new revolution. And that’s why we had lunch the other day, so he could share this wild hair of an idea.

“What I think is that all the older writers, directors, producers, musicians--everything--should put their money together to make a network. We could get it together if we had somebody like Michael Milken to help.”

I smiled.

“Oh, people laugh at Milken,” Milt said, “but without him, there’d be no Ted Turner today. Michael Milken dealing his junk bonds made CNN possible. . . . We could own the network. Those who want to work could work. Those who don’t want to don’t have to.”

With all the drivel on TV, there certainly seems room for something more, though I really wasn’t sure what Milt had in mind. . . .

“This wouldn’t be a senior citizens’ network,” he reassured me. “We’re not just going to do shows about arthritis.”

Now that Milt Rosen’s idea is up the flagpole, the question is whether anyone will salute. In the meantime, Milt will keep tapping away at the keyboard, ghosting for Milton Berle and helping Arnold from time to time. He’s also at work on his memoirs, including the sweeter moments.

One of his favorite scripts was an episode for “Mr. Novak” in the ‘60s. Drawing on his own classroom experience, Milt wrote of a teacher who clowned his way through the courses, who entertained his students without teaching. The principal is about to fire him, but Mr. Novak, played by James Franciscus, rises to the defense of the teacher, played by Herschel Bernardi. It’s agreed that the teacher can finish out the semester on one condition: “No more jokes.”

“I suppose you want me to thank you,” the teacher says to Mr. Novak later.

“Well, that would be nice,” Mr. Novak says.

“I won’t. You took away my Teddy bear and turned out the lights.”

Twenty-five years later, while Bernardi was touring in “Fiddler on the Roof,” Milt Rosen saw the actor in a restaurant. At his wife’s urging, Milt walked over and introduced himself, explaining that he’d written that old “Mr. Novak” episode.

Bernardi remembered the script after all those years. In fact, he looked up at Milt and said this:

“You took away my Teddy bear and turned out the lights.”

Those moments, Milt says, make it all worthwhile.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to Harris at the Times Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth, Calif. 91311. Please include a phone number. Address TimesLink or Prodigy e-mail to YQTU59A (via the Internet: YQTU59A@prodigy.com).