Jim Brown on … life and love in Hollywood; former football great's candid book offers a revealing look at his career as a movie star

Ebony, Dec, 1989 by Jim Brown

JIM BROWN ON... Life and Love in Hollywood

I BROKE INTO HOLLYWOOD the old-fashioned way: I knew somebody.

I was in Los Angeles for the 1964 Pro Bowl when a guy from 20th Century Fox asked me if I cared to try out for a movie. I told him I'd never acted, he said don't worry, they would give me a screen test. I went to Fox, read for the part, they gave me the part. The film was Rio Conchos...It was a post-Civil War western, I played an officer turned cowboy. Gordon Douglas, the director, relaxed me on the set, taught me tricks about the camera. I was very lucky when I got into movies. I was very lucky when I got into movies. I met all the good people like Douglas, did not meet any of the trash.

After the film, Gordon introduced me to [agent] Phil Gersh, who helped me land my second role in The Dirty Dozen. It was directed by Bob Aldrich, adapted from a huge bestselling book. And I loved my part. I was one of the Dozen, a quiet leader and my own man, at a time when Hollywood wasn't giving those roles to Blacks.

Two years after The Dirty Dozen I moved to Hollywood, bought my home up in the hills. And the party continued.

When you're making movies, starring, Hollywood opens wide for you. I became a certified regular at The Candy Store. I'd head over with Freddy Williamson and Timmy Brown; Sinatra, Dean Martin, Clint Eastwood, Tony Curtis, would all have their parts of the club staked out. Sinatra would always take a table in the back with his man Jilly. I would hang by the steps. Each group had its territory, everyone else respected that. We mingled, but mostly we'd be dealing with the high octane ladies. Aptly named, The Candy Store was quite a hunting ground.

By starring in The Split, I had graduated to leading man status. Hollywood had me pegged as some new sex symbol. In many of my films I started doing love scenes. If I found my leading lady unattractive, physically or spiritually, love scenes for me were uncomfortable. If she was pretty, had some heart, I welcome love scenes. Actors talk about being professional. They say you can kiss a person, hold a person, not feel a thing. Man, if that person you're kissing and holding is fine, love scenes are dangerous. God did not make the human body so you could talk to it, tell it exactly how to act.

I've been asked how far love scenes go. Some go nearly all the way. But some love scenes are overly orchestrated, they look it, watching ESPN is more exotic. Sometimes in a love scene, you're on your own. The director throws a man and a woman together, tells them to deal.

I later did a movie called Black Gun. I knew they were casting for an actress to play my lover. I persuaded them to hire Brenda Sykes. Brenda had dark skin, a small waist, luminous big brown eyes . . . For five years I tried to make her mine, for five years Brenda ignored my advances.

At my urging they hired Brenda. When it was time to film our love scene, it called for us both to be naked. I was protective of her, tried to calm her nerves, and Brenda began to see that I cared about her. We removed our clothes, slid into bed, did our scene. By the time we got out of the bed Brenda was my woman. Though we didn't make love, all the fires were burning. But I didn't kid myself for a second: I used the movie industry to catch Brenda. Otherwise she never would have been with me.

I also performed a love scene with Raquel Welch. Everybody wanted me to say I slept with Raquel. When I wouldn't, they said it themselves.

The film was One Hundred Rifles. At the time we did One Hundred Rifles, Raquel had some power. She was sexy, exotic, her husband Patrick was a canny promoter, and her face adorned the cover of numerous magazines. But the film was made because of me. There was no financing until I agreed to do it. I was the lead star, Raquel was second, Burt Reynolds was third.

Anyway, some producers had an idea. They would match Raquel Welch and Jim Brown as lovers. It would be the first time in history that a Black man would make love to a White woman on an American film screen. Brother, you better be careful . . . The one thing you will not do is make a pass at this women.

That was my posture when we arrived in Spain. Raquel brought her little daughter, Tahnee. Her son, and Patrick were in and out. Raquel was nice, I like her, everything was cool. I was not particularly attracted to her. I liked my woman slim, with small breasts. Raquel was a small woman, yet she looked big. She had ample hips, large breasts, those big teeth. She was not my physical type. At night, she and I would dance a few dances, and that was that. Then trouble arrived. Patrick had been promoting Raquel's career, had arranged for a celebrated English photographer to take all of Raquel's photographs, including those for the promotion of the film. When the studio sent another photographer to our location, Raquel was adamant: she did not want this man allowed on the set. She tried to enlist my support.