At a 1973 meeting at CMA, the Hollywood talent agency that later became ICM, the company’s owner was leading the proceedings when in walked agent Sue Mengers, 10 minutes late and wearing a muumuu. She attempted to comb her hair as the meeting continued, and sat with one foot underneath her, revealing that she was not wearing underwear.
As she “fiddled with her tortoiseshell comb, one of her false nails popped off and fell in front of her on the marble table. ‘Aaach,’ she muttered, ‘that f- -kin’ [racist slur for people of Asian descent] didn’t do the paste right on my f- -kin’ nails.’ The comb then fell out of her hair and onto the ground, and when Sue bent over to pick it up, she exposed her bare bottom to an entire table full of employees.”
This, from the new biography “Can I Go Now? The Life of Sue Mengers, Hollywood’s First Superagent” (Viking) by Brian Kellow, is a perfect encapsulation of Mengers, one of the most powerful agents in Tinseltown history.
Mengers was the first woman to amass the sort of power she did, representing Barbra Streisand, Gene Hackman, Michael Caine, Candice Bergen, Ryan O’Neal, Mike Nichols and so many more. But Mengers, as this insightful, often hilarious and celebrity-filled book relates, was a mass of contradictions.
Despite refusing to subordinate herself to Hollywood’s male power structure, she was staunchly anti-feminist, believing that supporting the male ego was a woman’s duty, and that wives should not be upset when their husbands cheated.
She had no qualms about sleeping with clients or would-be clients — at one point, she was known as “F–ker to the Stars,” a nickname she was reportedly fine with — and insisted to female colleagues and friends that nothing was more important than securing a great husband. (She was married to director Jean-Claude Tramont from 1973 until his death in 1996.)
A chain smoker of cigarettes and marijuana even on her deathbed in 2011, Mengers was the ultimate no-filter gal who believed that if you weren’t a winner, you were a loser. She was rude, crude and often cruel to friends and clients, yet won their (mostly) everlasting love with her loyalty and wit.
Mengers first became an agent at a small firm, Korman Associates, in 1963. At the time, she had developed a friendship with powerful Broadway producer David Merrick, and insinuated to many that they were more than friends. When she approached an actor named Tom Ewell about signing him, he asked “what she could do for him that his current agent couldn’t.” She replied, “F- -k David Merrick!” Ewell signed with her soon after.
According to Kellow, Mengers saw no problem with using sex to advance her career and advised others to do the same.
After befriending Paul Newman and his wife, Joanne Woodward, Mengers claimed to have had a one-night stand with the actor, telling pals, “It wasn’t intercourse, just a b- - - j- - — but it still counted, because it was Paul Newman.”
Mengers joined CMA in 1966. Moving from New York to Los Angeles, she began smoking pot by the truckload and throwing parties that became A-list events.
While her brashness was often used for its shock value, it was also employed in the service of clients. Representing Streisand, Mengers accompanied her to England in 1969 for a screening of the singer’s hit film “Funny Girl” that was to be attended by Princess Margaret.
When a Buckingham Palace staff member began instructing them on royal protocol, telling them they should be seated before the princess entered, Mengers unsuccessfully argued that Streisand should enter last so she could receive a standing ovation.
Mengers would throw a party in Princess Margaret’s honor in 1979. The two enjoyed each other’s company, but Mengers accused Jack Nicholson of forever ruining her chance at a palace invite when he offered the princess cocaine. She declined, but probably wasn’t too put off, as she reportedly spent the night getting tipsy and hitting on John Travolta.
Part of the fun of “Can I Go Now?” is reading of castings that might have been. During development of “The French Connection,” director William Friedkin initially wanted Jackie Gleason in the role of Detective Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle. When the producer refused, Friedkin sought Peter Boyle, who declined.
Friedkin considered journalist Jimmy Breslin, who rehearsed with Friedkin for a week. After the first day went well, Breslin showed up drunk on Day 2 and never recaptured his momentum. He was fired a week later.
It wasn’t intercourse, just a b- - - j- - — but it still counted, because it was Paul Newman.
- Sue Mengers
It turned out that Mengers, who had been pushing for her client Hackman to get the part, saw Breslin at a party that week and undermined his confidence, convincing him he wouldn’t be able to pull off the role.
Mengers also tried to get her good friend, producer Robert Evans, to cast O’Neal as Michael Corleone in “The Godfather.” Evans found this ridiculous due to the actor’s obvious Irishness.
As Mengers’ power grew, her tactics became more aggressive. In 1973, when Jacqueline Bisset was offered the lead in “The Thief Who Came to Dinner,” Mengers “cornered” her at a party and “hounded her with phone calls,” telling her, “You’ve got to do this film — your career will be ended if you don’t.” Bisset later said Mengers, who believed actors should always work regardless of a project’s quality, “did that to people quite often.”
Streisand herself, Mengers’ favorite client, was proof of this. “Sue knew how to push your buttons,” Streisand said. “She was very clever. She could make you feel very unworthy about your talent or your age. ‘You’re getting on. You’d better do this movie.’ ”
When MGM was preparing “Network,” Mengers wanted her client Bergen for the role of Diana Christensen, but studio execs thought Faye Dunaway would be a better choice. Mengers did everything she could to undermine Dunaway, badmouthing her “every chance she would get.”
When Dunaway won the Academy Award for the role, Mengers approached her agent and, with Dunaway in earshot, said: “Don’t let this little trophy make Faye think she’s a movie star. She’s not. The only movie star in the whole town is Barbra Streisand.”
Mengers was not for everyone. During a party she threw for critic Pauline Kael, Mengers pursued Travolta, fresh off his starring in “Saturday Night Fever,” as a client. She spent the evening conversing with, chasing and trying to sway the actor, who reacted coolly at best. Mengers later said of him, “I was in a group and somebody passed me a joint. At the moment I took it, I saw him across the room looking at me, and I knew right then that I would never represent him.”
By the ’80s, many of Mengers’ clients were past what Hollywood considered their prime — that is, they were approaching 40. Her relationship with Streisand grew strained. Mengers never supported Streisand’s desire to film her dream project, “Yentl,” and she went through convoluted machinations — including ruining a lesser-known actress’ career — to shoehorn her into a role in 1981’s “All Night Long” that wasn’t right for her.
When Streisand fired Mengers as her agent but emphasized a desire to remain friends, Mengers replied, “I won’t be your friend if I’m not your agent.” (They later rekindled their friendship, but were never as close as they had been.)
As the era of personal, adult-themed films gave way to blockbusters spawned by “Jaws” and “Star Wars,” Mengers felt behind the times, losing her antennae for successful projects.
She continued to represent the likes of Caine and Christopher Walken, but her prime was past, and Mengers, writes Kellow, fell into a “low-grade depression” from which she never recovered.
Mengers retired from ICM in 1986. She made a brief return to the business two years later with William Morris, but her tenure there was undistinguished, and she left agenting for good in 1990.
Mengers died of pneumonia in 2011 at age 79 and remained feisty until the very end. In the book, actor Griffin Dunne recalls a 2007 phone call from Mengers. Previously, his father, Dominick Dunne, had blamed the end of his producing career on comments he made about Mengers’ husband.
When Dunne picked up the phone, Mengers said, “Griffin, honey, it’s Sue. How are you? Listen — is your father dead yet?”
Thinking she was joking, Dunne laughed and said no, but was then subjected to a tirade, with Mengers screaming, “I wish he was dead. I hate that f- -king a- -hole. I want him dead.”
Once Mengers completed her rant, her voice grew calm, and she said, “Anyway, enough of that. Griffin, I’m serving chili at the house tonight. Warren Beatty’s going to be here, and Lauren Hutton’s in town. Why don’t you come on over?”