Griffin Dunne

GRIFFINDUNNE

MOSLEY: You know, Griffin, this memoir is as much about you as it isabout the famous people who make up your life and your family. And the storiesare both hilarious and at times pretty dark. And I'll say even the dark points,though, that you write about, some of them you write with a tinge of humor. I'mjust wondering, had you been cataloguing these stories, knowing that you wantedto write a book like this.

DUNNE: I certainly have. You know, at some point, I'd hear myself betelling stories to friends over dinner. And at a certain point, I started toget home, and I'd think, well, that was a pretty good story. I'm going to makea note...

MOSLEY: Yeah.

DUNNE: ...Of that. And I would just let them pile up with - I'd be adecade or so away from beginning a book, but it was in the back of my mind. Andthey weren't just stories about me and my misfortunes and that were usuallyalways funny, but also about my grandparents and great-grandparents who also ledincredible lives, filled with scandal and infidelity and a lot of humor aswell.

MOSLEY: You go way back, as you said. You go back to yourgreat-grandparents and your grandparents, laying out their arrival to theUnited States and your family, your immediate family, consisting of yourfather, Dominick Dunne, your mother, Ellen, your brother Alex, and your latesister, Dominique. And the orbit that surrounded all of you all, too - you guyswere living in Beverly Hills. And your father - he'd hold these parties, as youmentioned. How would you describe these parties?

DUNNE: They were all different kinds of parties. Sometimes people wouldcome over in black tie, and there'd only be about 16 people in black tie with alittle orchestra my father hired, you know, a little string quartet to play,and they would sit around a long dinner table and talk very, very loud. And wewould be at some point, before the adults got too drunk, we would be broughtdownstairs, my brother, sister and I, in matching bathrobes and pajamas, and mysister in a little, like, Victorian bonnet on her head, a nightcap. And we'dcome in, and all the adults would go, poh, and ah, and aren't they adorable?

MOSLEY: Yeah.

DUNNE: And my brother and I would bow good night, and my sister wouldcurtsy, and they would all clap and think that was delightful. And then quite afew years later, I'd end up working with Dennis Hopper, who was at that time,quite young and a guest in our home and well before he did "EasyRider." And we were working together, and he sort of stared off and said,yeah, I was at your parents' house. When you kids came downstairs, I thoughtthat was the saddest thing I ever saw.

MOSLEY: How did you interpret that? What do you think he meant by it?

DUNNE: I think he was right. I mean, you know, my father was a - youknow, before he became really into himself and the man that we know, he was avery kind of skittish person whose priorities about having famous people to hishome and, you know, giving parties, and, you know, he would keep scrapbooks ofthe pictures he took of all the famous people who came to the house and thetelegrams, the accepting his dinner parties. And I looked back on it, and itwas kind of embarrassing.

MOSLEY: As an early executive, what types of things was your dad doingin Hollywood - in those early days in television?

DUNNE: Well, his first job in the earliest days of television was on"The Howdy Doody Show," which for those who don't know, Howdy was apuppet, a very cheerful puppet. And Dad was the stage manager, and it was hisjob to place him, Howdy, on a stool before the show went live. But from then hewent on to kind of classier fare, and he was with "Playhouse 90." Andthat's where he met many of the people who'd end up being in his party, wherehe was the stage manager, you know, laying down the tape for the blocking, andhe would meet Humphrey Bogart, Paul Newman, James Dean, Arthur Penn. All ofthese remarkable - who became incredibly famous for their talent, you know,later on in life. These were their earliest parts of their career. And then hebecame a vice president of a company called Four Star. That's when we moved toLos Angeles. And it was a very classy production company within CBS.

MOSLEY: You're very young during these Hollywood years. One of thethings that you would do as a kid is that you liked to exaggerate and tellthese elaborate stories. And I found this really interesting because it seemslike there were so many true stories that you could have told that were just asfantastical. Why did you feel like you needed to exaggerate, especially when itcame to telling stories about your father and who he was? 'Cause you would tellyour classmates some tall tales about him.

DUNNE: Yes, I would. And, you know, a part of me as a boy, was a littleembarrassed of my dad that he wasn't as athletic. You couldn't play baseballwith him and the kind of things he was concerned about. He was always funny. Healways made me laugh. He had a very dark, funny sense of humor that Iinherited. But, you know, my best friends - I went to a very kind of Hollywoodschool where everybody's parents were in the business. And they knew my dad was- you know, he just couldn't throw a baseball to save his life. They would makefun of me, and they'd say, my dad could lick your dad with one hand tied behindhis back. And I came back with, well, he will - I'd throw his name right in thering - soon as he gets out of jail.

MOSLEY: (Laughter).

DUNNE: They'd go, what? Yeah, he's in prison. Why? He robbed a bank.And, you know, this lie got around school so quickly that the principal at theschool called my father. And I had this incredibly uncomfortable moment, wheremy dad - when he came home from work, he was mystified. And he said, Is thatsomething you wish I would do, Griffin? And I was so embarrassed, but he didn'tpursue it because I think he thought - I think he knew I was a littleembarrassed about him. It was a very tough moment for both of us.

MOSLEY: Let's take a short break. If you're just joining us, my guest isGriffin Dunne. He's written a new book called "The Friday AfternoonClub," a memoir about his life and complicated family, who dealt withsignificant traumas, including mental illness and addiction, and the murder ofhis sister. We'll continue our conversation after a short break. This is FRESHAIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF MISHA MENGELBERG TRIO'S "ROLLO III") *****

MOSLEY: This is FRESH AIR, and today, we're talking to actor, producer,director and author Griffin Dunne. He's written a new memoir titled "TheFriday Afternoon Club: A Family Memoir," which delves into the story ofthe Dunne family, his father Dominick Dunne's life and career as a TV producerand frequent writer for Vanity Fair, his closeted sexuality, and the impactsthat all of that had on everyone, including Griffin. The book also delves intothe death of Griffin's sister, Dominique, who was killed by an ex-boyfriend in1982 when she was 22 years old.

I want to ask you a little bit about your mom because your mother, EllenDunn, was, in her later life, known as an activist. After your sister waskilled, she founded the organization Justice for Homicide Victims. She wasactually recognized by President George H.W. Bush...

DUNNE: Yes, she was.

MOSLEY: ...Back in '89 for her work. Your parents seemed not theopposite of each other but maybe an unlikely couple. What do you thinkattracted them to each other?

DUNNE: My mother had a lot of class. She was an only child, grew up on aranch in Arizona on the border of Mexico, town called Nogales. But she was sentaway to boarding school, all-girls school called Farmington. She was incrediblywell read, loved classical music and came to New York. And she was a model, andshe was very, very beautiful.

You know, my dad fell in love with her on first sight, and he just wasenthralled by her beauty. And what she saw in him was one, he was a reallyfunny guy, and he knew a lot of stuff about New York and gangsters and moviestars and, you know - unlike any man that she'd ever met.

I mean, she grew up in Arizona. She went out with guys who rode inrodeos. And my father - you know, he knew Oleg Cassini and, you know, couldmake references to, you know, everything from movies to fashion. And I thinkshe just found him fascinating.

MOSLEY: Until she didn't.

DUNNE: Until she didn't.

MOSLEY: Yeah.

DUNNE: That fascination with celebrity and partying and movie stars gotvery, very tired for her. And, you know, he was - he's written about this, soI'm not - Dad was very frank about his personality and character in theseyears. You know, he was drinking a great deal, and he was getting very sloppy,and he was getting a little mean in his gossip. And people were really turninghim away, and he didn't see that...

MOSLEY: Because that's the thing that your dad loved to do, is he wouldpick apart - he would gossip all the time. They'd go to parties. He'd comehome, and on the way home, he'd be talking about everything that happened atthe party.

DUNNE: Just recounting everything. And again...

MOSLEY: Yeah.

DUNNE: ...It's storytelling, too.

MOSLEY: Right.

DUNNE: He just - he would just weave and describe an incredible dinnerwith - oh, you know, Alfred Hitchcock was over there and Jimmy Stewart. And shejust started to not really give a damn about this.

MOSLEY: There's this moment that you write about that I wanted to justask you about that, like, maybe speaks to your relationship with your mom,where in the announcement of your parents' divorce, they sat you and your brotherand sister down and - 'cause your mom said, I'm leaving you, and so we have totell the kids - sat all of you down. And after the announcement was made, thekids are crying. You put your hands over your face. You're kind of crying. Butthen you look out of your fingers, and you can - you and your mom's eyes lock.

DUNNE: Yeah. I was faking it.

MOSLEY: And that's a significant moment for you.

DUNNE: Yes.

MOSLEY: Yeah.

DUNNE: It is.

MOSLEY: What did it represent? What did - what was that unspoken thing youall were saying to each other?

DUNNE: It was a kind of relief. There was a certain tyranny, and hewould lose his temper a lot at that point in his life. It was exhausting. Andbeing the oldest, I was empathetic to my mother. I could just feel her driftfurther and further away and away from the family. And it was kind of startlingto me that I was losing a connection with her. I've always understood mymother. She was sometimes, particularly toward the end of her life, of fewwords, but...

MOSLEY: Because she suffered from MS.

DUNNE: She suffered from MS.

MOSLEY: And towards the end of her life, she could not...

DUNNE: Yeah.

MOSLEY: ...Talk anymore.

DUNNE: And this is before she was diagnosed but soon would be soonafter. And I felt terrible that my brother and sister were crying, that - Ifelt terrible about myself that I didn't feel anything. I felt this kind ofrelief, and I felt guilty about the relief.

So I pretended to cry, and I covered my eyes. And as you said, throughone slit of my fingers, I saw my mother whose hands - was also covering hereyes in grief and tears. And I saw - both of us saw each other's totally dryeyes, and we both knew we were faking it.

MOSLEY: You spent a lot of time thinking about your parents - yourmother's choice to marry him, divorce him, also your dad's closetedhomosexuality, which you actually didn't confirm until his deathbed, eventhough there were signs there. One of his first productions was the 1970 film"The Boys In The Band," which is one of the earliest movies centeringqueer characters. Does it seem obvious to you looking back and when you put itall together?

DUNNE: Oh, completely. And, you know, in the years even since hispassing, you know, he had, I think, a fairly robust gay life that was - remainedcloseted.

MOSLEY: Did your mom know when they were married?

DUNNE: I don't know the moment that she knew. I just know that after thedivorce, I became her drinking partner. Now, I was not drinking, although shegave me a little - a glass of wine, maybe. I was now in my early teens. But shewould drink to excess, enough to sort of overshare with a young kid, with herson.

And it was then that she told me, you know, that this trip that Iremember so fondly with my dad and this other guy who came with us, who Ithought was hilarious, who reminded me of one of the characters - a character Iliked very much in "Flipper," the older brother. Mom was a littlebummed and overshared that that guy was my dad's lover.

Now, my reaction wasn't shocked. I actually was honored that I wasthought of as being so grown up as to be confided in...

MOSLEY: Could handle it.

DUNNE: ...Like a grown up.

MOSLEY: That you could handle it.

DUNNE: Yeah.

MOSLEY: Yeah. Well, thinking about your dad's sexuality - one of thethings we actually learn about you in this book is that you were girl crazy. Imean, sex was always on your mind. Readers will get out - a kick out of that.Like, I'll let them read all those juicy details you write about it in thebook, but...

DUNNE: Yeah.

MOSLEY: ...I was wondering...

DUNNE: Well, that's what teenagers thought about at the time.

MOSLEY: That's true.

DUNNE: Every seven seconds, they say.

MOSLEY: How was it for you to write that stuff? I mean, you had to goback to your teenage mind to get there, right?