Rick Copp

THE DAY I ALMOST SOLD FAYE DUNAWAY’S HAIR ON E-BAY September 29, 2011

I had always heard Faye Dunaway had a prickly reputation. But honestly who cares? Faye played the sexy and impressionable Bonnie in the ‘60s crime classic Bonnie and Clyde. The ruthlessly ambitious network executive in the prescient ‘70s classic Network. The wildly erratic Joan Crawford in the ‘80s camp classic Mommie Dearest. So come on! An actress of that caliber deserves to have a royal tantrum or two every once in a while. I just didn’t expect it to happen in my house.

My friend Mike was producing a documentary on Johnny Depp for Bravo. He was interviewing several of Johnny’s co-stars, including Faye, who co-starred with Depp twice, in the hit Don Juan DeMarco and and in the flop Arizona Dream. Mike wanted the interviews to take place in a retro Hollywood setting, and my 1928 English Tudor house was perfect, nestled high in the hills of Beachwood Canyon near the Hollywood sign. The house was inverted so the living room, dining room and kitchen were upstairs and the bedrooms were downstairs. I had to sequester my rambunctious dog and bitchy cat in the guest suite because I didn’t want them disturbing the shoot. Mike, meanwhile, made sure the master suite bathroom was in pristine condition because he had earmarked that for Faye because she insisted on doing her own hair and make up.

I was going to scoot once the interview got under way, but I couldn’t resist hanging around to see Faye in person. She arrived late. The driver sent to pick her up was told to call when he was in front of the house, but Faye angrily told him he would have to wait because she was still getting dressed. Even though he could see her through the window of her house watching television.

As she finally swept through my front door, Mike reached out his hand and said, “It’s an honor to meet you, Ms. Dunaway.” She swiped his hand away and said, “I don’t shake hands!” Mike got out of her way. I was struck by how small she was. On screen she looks so much grander and in command. Here she looked tiny and vulnernable. Until she spoke.

She clutched the beige scarf tied around her head and said, “I need a place to put on my make up.” Mike answered, “Yes, I’ve prepared the master bath for you downstairs.” Faye looked at him. “I don’t go downstairs.” Awkward pause. Mike cleared his throat. “There’s a bathroom right here off the foyer, but it’s really small.” “It’ll be fine,” Faye barked and marched inside. She marched right back out. “It’s too small!” She decided to take her chances going downstairs and headed for the staircase. Mike called after her, “It’s the door on the right.” Faye went left into the guest suite. And the next thing we heard was, “Something needs to be done about these animals!” I could only imagine my bitchy cat hissing at her. And I knew my dog’s claim to fame would now be sniffing the crotch of an Academy Award winner.

By this point, I was laughing so hard I had to leave so as not to add more stress to Mike’s already jangled nerves. When I returned hours later, the crew was striking the make shift set. Mike said once Faye was happy with her lighting and the cameras started rolling, that’s when she truly became FAYE DUNAWAY. Totally in control, praising Johnny, smiling and laughing. A total charmer.

After it was over, Mike knew Faye was happy with the way the interview turned out. Probably because on her way out the door she stopped to shake his hand.

Later, when I went downstairs to the master bedroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed, I noticed clumps of hair all over the basin and in the sink. It was FAYE HAIR! Piles of it. I stared at the fine wispy light brownish strands of Hollywood hair. My mind racing. I could sell it on E-Bay! I wonder how much I could get? I decided against it. After all, don’t stars deserve at least a modicum of privacy? Which leaves the question. Do I still have it pressed in a scrap book somewhere like some deranged, obsessive fan. No, I did the decent thing and flushed it down the toilet. Yeah, that’s my story. And I’m sticking to it.

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