Cris Franco

by Ruby Comer

Feliz Navidad! Following the National Latino AIDS Awareness Day here in moviedom, and a Web chat seminar sponsored by Acción Mutua (Shared Action, an APLA program funded by the CDC that provides HIV prevention services to Latinos),  Cris Franco, my Latino amigo, and I skedaddle to his Valley home.  Yep, he’s a Valley-Boy! And child, today, we danced, whistled, crooned, noshed, slurped, and gabbed. Now we’re pooped. Once in Cris’s pad we prop up our tootsies and have a Judy Holliday movie marathon: Born Yesterday, The Solid Gold Cadillac, Bells Are Ringing, and my personal pick, It Should Happen To You!, which is first up.

What can I say about my writer-actor pal, Cris?! Well, he looks fifteen years younger than his age. He has a warped sense of humor, and he’s been a friend to the AIDS community for years. Cris recently did PSA’s for a Texas organization, Mi Higo, Mi Higa (My Son, My Daughter), and Cris has participated in many events for Bienestar.

His comedy-talk show, Café California, ran for three years on PBS and garnered him two L.A. Emmys.  Of all the interviews he’s conducted on Café California, he hails Ricardo Montalban as his favorite: “He’s an amazing force within the Latino community. He’s a hopeful beacon of light of understanding and cultural synergy.  The man is honest, spiritual, and an eternal optimist.”  Cris’s first professional acting gig was in the stage production of Zoot Suit, and he’s had roles in various films, Mi Familia, Speechless, and Never Trust A Serial Killer. Currently, he’s a cultural commentator on PBS’s Life & Times. He’s a cross between Sister Wendy and Huell Howser!

I share with Cris a few gossipy notes on the making of It Should Happen To You! During the shoot, a married Judy was having an affair with her costar Peter Lawford; the original title was A Name For Herself; and it was Jack Lemmon’s first feature. Cris and I finish the film and chat.

Ruby Comer: [Ejecting the DVD] Oh, Cris, that Judy Holliday is a classic.

Cris Franco: I wish Judy Holliday were around today. What a treasure. Watching her is like taking a feel-good pill. When she comes on the screen, you’re just happy. You know she had an IQ of 172, genius status.

Well, I do too [I state unconvincingly with a laugh]. Say, what does AIDS mean to you?

Oh my goodness, it’s a heartbreaker. AIDS came about shortly after I became sexually active. I had very few encounters where I was not aware of the health crisis. I was horrified. And like the rest of my generation it severely impacted every aspect of my personal life. Being a professional actor, many of those I worked with succumbed to AIDS.

To this day, my oldest friend, Martin, whom I’ve known since I was ten, and my best friend, Tony, whom I’ve known since I was sixteen, are long-term AIDS survivors. When people that close to me are infected, I’m dealing with it too. 

Definitely. How great to have best buddies.

Tony has a great sense of humor. We both love cereal, and he has Count Chocula, like, every morning. He looks at the ingredients and says, “I think it has some AIDS-fighting stuff in it. What virus would go up against this?!” So he’s got his own theory! Ya know what I think the AIDS campaign needs?

What?

It needs an animated spokesperson like that syphilis doll. They should have Mr. T Cell, like Mr. T, and he could say, “I pity the virus.” The campaign needs to be more edu-friendly. I just made up a word! It’s so PBS. Everything at PBS is edu-something! [He loads Bells Are Ringing.] AIDS is still so ominous and it is mainstream. It’s no longer our [the gay community’s] disease. In the Latino community it’s huge.

Yes, damn it. Cris, just how many people have you lost to this epidemic?

Oh my God! You know, I’m writing a play called Dead Men In My Drawer. I have a drawer where I keep pictures, letters, memorabilia that I need to keep close to me. I don’t feel good about putting it away in a box in the attic. And that’s exactly what that drawer is. They’re dead but they’re not. They’re alive because they’re with me. The play is an exploration of a time in my life when I lost someone very close to me, Robert.

I didn’t know Robert. Tell me about him.

No, it was before you and I met. This was early eighties. Robert was a concert pianist, a concert flutist, a composer, and a lyric baritone. He was a musical genius. When he passed, I realized what was happening. There are thousands of Roberts out there. They are a treasure chest that is slowly sinking into the ocean. Robert’s death was a deep, deep profound lost. People like Robert I consider martyrs, who early on were basically used for experimentation to get to the effective treatments we have today.

As you know, I’ve always felt this way, too. Viva loca!  

We should not look at our friends who died at the beginning of the epidemic as having died in vain. They gave their life so that we could learn and have hope. [In the background Judy Holliday sings “Just In Time”: “Now you’re here, And now I know just where I’m going….”]

Ruby Comer is an independent journalist from the Midwest who is happy to call Hollywood her home away from home. Reach her by e-mail at MsRubyComer@aol.com.

December 2005