Addicts can be heroes: Native American activist Russell Means, actress “Emmanuelle” Sylvia Kristel, Brooke Shields’ mom Teri Shields and “J.R.” Larry Hagman
Sometimes, it takes an addict:
Native American and sometimes-libertarian activist Russell Means, dead at age 72 after a “general decline in health” subsequent to a reportedly successful battle with esophageal cancer. In the late ‘60s and early ‘70s he participated in the occupation of Alcatraz, the seizing of the Mayflower ll (a replica of the original), the occupation and trashing of the Bureau of Indian Affairs Washington offices by the American Indian Movement (AIM) and, in the coup de grace, the occupation of the hamlet of Wounded Knee in the Pine River reservation where, in 1890, 300 Lakota Indians were killed by the U.S. army. Means, along with some 200 others, held out through blizzards and machine gun fire against federal guardsmen for 71 days. He ran for the Presidency on the Libertarian Party ticket in 1988 (losing the bid to Congressman Ron Paul) and appeared in three dozen movies and television shows from 1992 until his death. Along the way he led a life of volatility as only addicts do: his face was crossed with the scars of numerous barroom brawls, he led and quit as head of the AIM six times before the movement split and he married five times. He defied authority, as do many addicts, in countless other ways: he never had a drivers’ license, a fishing permit or an Indian ID card and for 21 years he refused to pay income tax.
Dutch actress and model Sylvia Kristel, who made cinematic history by starring in the soft-core film “Emmanuelle” in 1974, dead at 60 from esophageal and lung cancer after a lifetime of smoking unfiltered cigarettes. According to The Economist, “she smoked at 11, and sneaked cognac from the bar” at the hotel her parents ran; her parents may have both snuck it, too: her mother is described by The Economist as “tippling” and her father left the mother for another woman just a few years later. Her drugs of choice became Dom Perignon and cocaine, which she thought of, according to Wikipedia, as a “supervitamin, a very fashionable substance, without danger, but expensive, far more exciting than drowning in alcohol – a fuel necessary to stay in the swing.” And that she did, but not without the ups and downs experienced by so many addicts. Largely capitalizing on her sexually provocative image from the first “Emmanuelle,” she appeared in over 50 films, including four of seven in the Emmanuelle series, but along the way lost her entire savings on a film project, leaving her with $400 at the time. She was described, again by The Economist, as “seething with contradictions”: at once responsible and restrained, with an IQ of 167 and fluent in five languages, while she was “also a rebel who embraced freedom and fed freely on excess.” Such “contradictions” are classic alcoholism. And, as is so common among addicts, she pushed a revolution along—in this case, the sexual one: such a film as “Emmanuelle” had never before been on general release; Brazil, Spain, Japan and the Arab world banned it, while Britain cut it heavily.
Teri Shields, who promoted and managed the career of her daughter, actress Brooke Shields, dead at 79 after a long illness linked to dementia. I’ve long noted that many child actors have had careers driven by an alcoholic parent, and Brooke Shields is no exception. Teri’s single-minded promotion is something an addictionologist would expect of an alcoholic parent. She wielded power by doing all she could to ensure her child would become a monstrous success. And that she did, beginning with Brooke’s appearance at 11 months in an Ivory soap commercial. She allowed her 10-year-old daughter to be photographed nude for a Playboy Press publication. Two years later she let her be cast as a preteen prostitute in the 1978 film “Pretty Baby,” for which Teri earned much criticism, only the first of a number of roles that critics considered too sexual for Brooke’s age. The nude childhood photos gave a New York Supreme Court justice an excuse to lecture Teri for choices she had made for her young daughter, while dismissing a lawsuit by Teri and Brooke to suppress those same photos. Justice Edward Greenfield said that Teri was trying to be “maternally protective but exploitative at the same time….She cannot have it both ways” (even if alcoholics often try). At least we can thank you Teri, for bringing us Brooke.
Actor Larry Hagman of “Who shot J.R.?” and “I Dream of Jeannie” fame, dead from cancer at 81. Hagman, the son of “Peter Pan” star Mary Martin, was considered the “unofficial mayor of Malibu,” having lived there for decades in an oceanfront home. He often led impromptu parades on the sand while wearing wild costumes; I ran into him back in my surfing days in the 1970s, realizing much later that he was the crazy guy covered with what I recall was a toga-like or karate robe. He admitted to having drunk his way through “Dallas,” which ran from 1978 to 1991, uncorking a bottle of champagne at 9 a.m. and keeping it flowing all day. When diagnosed with liver cirrhosis in 1992, he became an instant teetotaler and later spoke openly about decades of alcoholic drinking (which began at age 15) that led to his cirrhosis, a cancerous tumor on his liver and, in 1995, a liver transplant. He was often asked how his liver transplant operation changed his life; he responded that apart from saving it, nothing changed. (Too bad nobody asked how his diagnosis with cirrhosis changed his life.) On the “I Dream of Jeannie” set, he reportedly drove his co-workers crazy with tantrums and destructive behavior he later attributed to perfectionism. (All-too-often, alcoholics don’t understand their own disease; for the uninitiated reading this, his behaviors were of course alcoholism-induced.) He said it took $40,000 in therapy sessions to learn to be calmer; he could have spent a whole lot less had he instead gone to AA meetings, but I digress. Through all of this, he remained married to one woman, whom he married in 1954, once again showing that we can’t predict the behaviors of a practicing alcoholic, whether good or bad.