Jimmy & Me: Remembering James Dean

Compiled from extensive notes written over the years, Jimmy & Me is a vibrant account of the 16 months Lew spent with pal James Dean. Images courtesy of Lew Bracker.

by CHAD KENNERK

In our 1955 annual, James Dean was named a Film Review Rising Star for his work in East of Eden. Though September 30th marks the 67th anniversary of his passing, the actor’s legend continues to thrive. Champion American amateur Porsche racing driver Lew Bracker is a legend in his own right, but he also happens to be Dean’s buddy. Sharp as a tack at 94 years young, Lew sat down with Film Review to reminisce about his friend and discuss his memoir — vital reading for ‘Deaners’ and a well written, down to earth account of a great friendship.

In conversation with author Lew Bracker

Film Review (FR): When you wrote the book, it was the first time you'd really spoken about your friendship with Jimmy. Was it a cathartic experience to write? 

Lew Bracker (LB): Yes, it was a very cathartic experience. I never wanted to write the book, so for 60 years or so, I never did. I finally did write it, not expecting it to even be published. I wrote it so my daughters would have the story they have been after me for since they were children.

(FR): Have any memories or moments with Jimmy come to mind since the publication that you wish were in the book?

(LB): The one thing I regret about that book, probably the biggest omission about our whole relationship, was on the day that we took Cisco (Jimmy’s big buckskin horse) up to the ranch. On the way up, Jimmy was kind of silent. Once we dropped Cisco off, it was like a big anvil lifted off his shoulders. He was much more talkative and animated on the way back. When we got back to Burbank in the evening, I was about to get into my car and go home when Jimmy said, “Wait a minute.” He asked me a question that I didn’t give a lot of thought to at the time. I turned and he asked, “Do you like Italian food?” That was probably the one and only time Jimmy ever invited anyone to his sanctuary, the Villa Capri. I think that was the forging of the friendship really. It was his way of accepting me totally into his life, which had started out with the usual distrust he held for everybody. I’m sorry that’s not in the book. It was a moment of a great decision for him. When he came out here from New York, he didn’t trust anybody, except for maybe Lenny Rosenman, the composer on Eden and Rebel. Lenny and I had been friends for six years by then.

(FR): Why do you think he had that feeling of distrust for people?

(LB): This is my own opinion. Jimmy adored his mother and when he was a child, his mother would write out little playlets and they would act them out. She recognised in him the art of acting. They were living in Southern California and she died of an illness suddenly. His father, who was in my opinion not a bad man, just a weaker man. He didn’t know what to do and panicked about having to take care of Jimmy, a nine-year-old. He arranged to put him on the train back to Fairmount, Indiana, to his sister and brother-in-law, the Winslows, but he put his mother’s body on the same train. I think from that time, Jimmy simply didn’t trust anybody. When he died on September 30th of 1955, he was just opening up. He was just starting to accept people at face value and make judgement from there. Certainly when I met him in 1954, he was very defensive. Lenny had invited me to lunch in the Green Room (the Warner Brothers studio commissary.) Lenny and I sat on one side of the booth, and Jimmy, as usual, slouched in the corner on the other side, his left leg up on the bench and his arms folded. Almost shouting, ‘I dare you to sit here!’ That’s where he came from, but he eventually became completely open and natural. At our house, as my mother used to say, “It’s like having another son.” He could just come and go as he pleased.

(FR): I love that part in the book, when Jimmy came to hide out with you during the summer.

(LB): I refer to that as the Summer of ‘55 because he was really starting to open up and blossom. Jimmy came along on the cusp, between the new Hollywood and the old Hollywood. Jimmy used to say, “Nobody can teach you how to act, you either become the character or you don’t.” Director George Stevens was completely different from Elia Kazan or Nicholas Ray — they collaborated with Jimmy. I was witness to that. They would talk before a scene, really discuss it. George Stevens was old school and thought that actors should be treated like children; told what to do and when to do it. Jimmy rebelled against that. It came to a climax on Giant.

After they were back from filming in Texas, Stevens called Jimmy to the set at eight in the morning and never used him. That was typical of those old school directors, it was a way to discipline actors and put them in their place. Jimmy simply disappeared that weekend. Friday, Saturday, Sunday. He disappeared and they were frantic. They called all over trying to find Jimmy. Well, Jimmy was up at our house, very relaxed and enjoying hanging out at the pool. He had a plan and he had even warned my folks, “If they call here, you haven’t seen me.” Sunday evening he called Warners and demanded a meeting with all the people involved, Stevens and Jack Warner. He simply said he wasn’t going to take that kind of treatment. Warners already knew they had the hottest property in filmdom and so from then on, the picture was finished in relative calmness.

(FR): What was the Green Room and the Warner Brothers lot like in those days?

(LB): The Green Room was the only place on Warner's lot to get a bite to eat. So you saw stars sitting at tables across from grips, mail clerks, etc. It served everything from breakfast to sandwiches to full meals. A high-class diner or perhaps just an ordinary commissary in the Studio days. Jimmy, especially if he were working at night, would call me in the afternoon at my work and ask me to come by and keep him company on the set. I never visited the Eden set, but I did visit the Rebel set quite a few times and the Giant set a few times.

(FR): What was the set of Rebel Without a Cause like?

(LB): That was a young cast. There was tremendous jealousy centred around Jimmy. Everybody wanted the mantle of being his best friend; Nick Adams in particular. Nick Adams really resented me and made it very obvious. Jimmy would call me at work and say “We’re working tonight. How about coming by and keeping me company?” That used to happen often. There were two chairs set off in a corner of the set and evidently the word was out: no one was allowed to come near us. We would just sit and shoot the breeze, observing whatever else the others were doing in front of the cameras.

(FR): You were among the first to see the finished film too.

(LB): One night Jimmy called me at work and said, “Meet me at the Villa Capri at six o'clock.” Well that was really unusual, but I never asked, “Why?” or “What are we gonna do?” I think Jimmy really appreciated that. I showed up at the Villa at six. Jimmy’s Hollywood agent was there and we had an early dinner. Then his agent drove us out to Huntington Park for a sneak preview of Rebel. After the movie, they ushered Jimmy and I into the manager’s office. In those days, they gave every moviegoer at a sneak preview a little comment card. Suits from Warner Brothers were examining the cards and they were absolutely blown away. They’d never seen such cards. There wasn’t one card that had anything negative to say about Rebel. Afterwards, Jimmy’s agent drove us back to the Villa. Jimmy and I went into our usual booth and a few minutes later, in comes Dennis Hopper, Natalie Wood, and Nick Adams. They sat in the booth next to us. My seat adjoined the front seat of the booth next to us and Jimmy sat across from me as usual. Before I knew it, Natalie Wood was hanging over the booth divider. She wasn’t talking to Jimmy, she was all excited, looking at me, and saying, “What did you think?” I said, “I think it’s going to be really good for everybody that was in it.” That was all I offered. Pretty soon we heard a voice from the back – Nick Adams’ voice – “Are you with him or with me?” That was Nick Adams jealousy coming through. Jimmy had that smirk on his face and didn’t say a word. He knew I’d handle it. I handled it by doing and saying nothing. Natalie made a big face and said, “I better go”, and she climbed back into the booth. Here’s what they never understood. When Jimmy would make a picture, that was his family. He was very friendly to everyone and talked with everyone. Some people thought he was becoming their best friend, but when that picture was over, that family was over. He went to the next film. Don’t forget he made three films in a row. He went to the next film and they were his family. Well on Rebel, unfortunately, Nick Adams was convinced he was Jimmy’s best friend. That was his perception. He was disappointed and infected with a jealousy that wouldn’t quit.

(FR): And Giant? How was that set different from Rebel Without a Cause?

(LB): Fortunately or unfortunately, Jimmy’s first two directors were sensible collaborators and helped him with suggestions. They discussed different problems. I remember one night when I was watching and keeping Jimmy company on the set of Rebel. They were doing the scene where the boy he befriended had been shot to death and Jimmy’s scene was to hold up the bullets and say plaintively, “I’ve got the bullets.” It was a difficult scene. It took a few takes, but Nick Ray and Jimmy conferred between takes. That wasn’t George Stevens way. The other thing that annoyed Stevens a lot was that Jimmy did things that weren’t in the script. In Giant, if you recall, there’s a scene where Mercedes McCambridge leaves a piece of land to Jimmy. Jimmy is shown in the dust, pacing off his land. He learned that from multiple ranchers. That’s the way they used to do it. He just incorporated that into the scene. Another scene like that is in East of Eden, where Jimmy is laying down among his bean field and urging the beans to grow. He learned that from local farmers. Sometimes they would do that when the market was hot, they’d urge the beans to hurry up! George Stevens didn’t like any of that; it wasn’t his idea.

(FR): It’s the mark of a great actor; to do the preparation and let it go. Allowing for the research to inform the role in the moment.

(LB): Jimmy was the most curiosity ridden guy I’d ever met in my life. He was curious about everything. When he was on a picture, for the most part, it wasn’t the other actors he talked to. He was talking to wranglers, electricians, cameramen, grips. He wanted to know everything there was to know about moviemaking.

(FR): In the book, you mention Jimmy's interest in directing. What vision do you think Jimmy would have brought to film as a director? 

(LB): Jimmy felt that directing his films would give him more freedom of expression than just acting.  He thought acting was a little confining, whereas directing was more expansive.

(FR): You’ve dined with legends, can you talk about some of the meals you and Jimmy shared at the Villa Capri restaurant?

(LB): The highlight for me was the dinner with Sir Alec Guinness. Jimmy and I usually went to the Villa late and always had a booth. For some reason, we went on a Friday or Saturday night around eight o’clock and of course it was jammed. As you walked into the old Villa, the first thing you see was a booth that seats about eight people, it’s the only booth in the bar. That was the only place they had and it faced the front door. They didn’t know what to do, but Jimmy said “That’s ok, we’ll sit there.” We’re sitting there waiting for our meal, Jimmy concentrating on his usual drink that I hated: wine and 7UP. I was looking around and I saw Alec Guinness come in with his companion for the evening. They took one look at the jammed restaurant, turned around and walk out. I said to Jimmy, “Do you know who just came in and walked out?” Jimmy says, “Who?” I said, “Alec Guinness.” Jimmy jumped up from the table. I didn’t know this, but he was dying to meet Alec Guinness. He ran out, grabbed him and brought him back in. That’s how we ended up having an evening with Sir Alec Guinness. I have never discussed that evening, other than that moment when Jimmy took Sir Alec out to look at the Porsche Spyder that he’d just bought. Alec Guinness really did tell him never to drive that car, or words to that effect. At any rate, what did they discuss at dinner? I was an innocent bystander that knew when to keep quiet and just listen and learn. Their conversation was about film comedy. Jimmy wanted to do a comedy. He was especially interested in situational comedies, not pratfall comedies or Jerry Lewis comedies. He was fascinated by Alec Guinness’ comedy films and that’s what they discussed. The Captain’s Paradise, The Man in the White Suit, The Lavender Hill Mob. Creative comedies. That’s what Jimmy wanted to do and that’s what they discussed at great length that night.

(FR): Jimmy would have been so good in a comedy of that vein too. Sir Alec Guinness is one of our former Film Review contributors.

(LB): He loved what Alec Guinness did in those comedies and the characters that he played. I wasn’t an actor, I couldn’t talk about acting. I made no bones about it. I was a film fan, not a film expert. I remember when Jimmy had decided he was going to do Giant. At that time in LA, you could find an old movie somewhere. There were so many movie theaters. First, second, third and infinity runs. We found on Vermont in East Hollywood, a double bill of George Stevens work, exactly what Jimmy was looking for. We went and saw Gunga Din and we never talked about it. Whatever Jimmy got from that, he got from that. I couldn’t help him. I didn’t try. My ego didn’t go that way. 

(FR): I recently came across a photo of you the other day with another racer from Indiana that studied at The Actors Studio. What's the story behind your photo with Steve McQueen and the '56 Jaguar XKSS?

(LB): Steve McQueen was a friend of mine. We were both interested in sports cars and sports car racing and Steve wanted to meet Jimmy's closest friend. Steve was not a superstar when I met him, but he did have a western series on TV. The story behind the Jag photo, Steve asked me to visit him on the set at CBS in L.A. Without telling me anything (just like Jimmy used to do), he took me to this garage near the studio and showed me the car he had just bought. As you can see, Steve is excited about the purchase.  I'm busy looking at the car. I wasn't excited because I was viewing it as a race car and knew that even though it was probably the best-looking car on the track, it couldn't beat the Porsche Spyders, Ferrari, and such.

(FR): You're also one of only a few people that can say they've met another member of The Actors Studio — Marilyn Monroe. What was your impression of her?

(LB): I only met Marilyn once, but I found her to be very down-to-earth, not at all impressed with herself, and very friendly.

(FR): What would you like everyone to know about Jimmy’s legacy? 

(LB): Jimmy was a guy, he wasn’t a god. Jimmy was a little boy in some ways. He was shy. He was not rude, but without his glasses, he couldn’t see anybody. He could walk past his mother and wouldn’t know. People mistook that for arrogance, or snobbery, but it wasn’t any of that. Jimmy was approachable, particularly as 1955 wore on.

(FR): Did he not like wearing his glasses?

(LB): He wore them most of the time. His glasses and his cigarette. I know that he has fans all over the world and a lot of fan clubs, but they have to remember he was a guy. We were two guys hanging around L.A. at the right time. Hollywood was great at that time, for us. Two young guys in Porsches, and as we thought, all the time in the world.

Lew Bracker and James Dean on the set of Rebel Without a Cause.

Lew turned 94 this September, but says he doesn’t feel a day over 93. When asked about the celebration, Lew shared that his birthday cake would have a single candle and his motto for the year is: “94 and looking for more.”

LEW BRACKER was born in Nogales, Arizona and grew up in Los Angeles, California. He is a U.S. Army Korean War Vet and now resides in Palm Springs, California. In addition to his racing career, Lew has worked as an insurance salesman, stockbroker, and investment banker. He remains close with his two daughters, for whom he wrote and dedicates his memoir.

Learn more about Lew’s friendship with James Dean in his book:
Jimmy & Me: A Personal Memoir of a Great Friendship