Greetings over your interweb devices
“Around the world I’ve searched for you
I traveled on when hope was gone to keep a rendezvous
I knew somewhere, sometime, somehow
You’d look at me and I would see that smile you’re smiling now.”
I am not an adventurous traveler. For one thing, I don’t pack light. Though never any kind of Scout, I do like to “be prepared” — which for me includes for me a lot of “stuff.” Before 2004, the only countries apart from the USA in which I had set foot were our immediate neighbors Canada and Mexico. Nonetheless in the early 1980’s, my aunt in Illinois gave me a metal airplane sculpture, which, when the prop was wound up, played a mechanical jewel box version of “Around the World in 80 Days.” “You will do a lot of world traveling,” she told me — and, boy, was she prescient — it would just take a couple of decades.
I wrote a few weeks ago about my experiences successfully directing a Spanish language show here in Los Angeles. Later, I got a call from my old bosses, now having been absorbed by Sony Pictures and Television International, asking if I would like to go to Moscow, Russia. From that call forward, I would spend a considerable time over the next decade traveling in my “off-season.” Basically, the projects stemmed from the fact that Sony’s acquisition of Columbia-Tri-Star brought with it ownership of a number of properties in all genres — including stacks of existing scripts which could be translated and adapted for different countries.
In Moscow, I was involved in adaptations of “The Nanny,” “I Dream of Jeannie,” “Rules of Engagement,” and “The Cosby Show” (and the answer to the most obvious question is, no, the cast wasn’t). I collaborated on versions of “Married with Children” in both Stockholm, Sweden and Budapest, Hungary. I consulted on projects in Brazil and Poland, though unavailable to actually travel to those countries at the time, and just missed out on assignments in both Mumbai, India and Beijing, China. All in all it was a wild ride. Toward the end of one Russian assignment, I had the barest of input on a new project they had in the works there. What became, “The Voronins” (their version of “Everybody Loves Raymond” or ELR) would prove so successful there, additional seasons of scripts were commissioned to continue local production of the series (this also happened on other projects there, including “The Nanny” and “Happy Together,” their version of “Married with Children”).
My slight involvement continued stateside, just after I returned from Moscow. I had a random contact with Phil Rosenthal, ELR’s creator, and he was very eager to pick my brain in his preparations to go to see his show reimagined for a new audience. Part of his agreement with Sony to allow the licensing of that series (which Sony didn’t own) was that he would get to make a documentary on his experience which was ultimately released as “Exporting Raymond.” It is a wonderful glimpse into a world I knew pretty darn well (although Phil took great comedic license with his depiction of our Russian cohorts, with whom I had just worked — and I was later told he ruffled a few feathers).
A few years later, the Moscow-based production was going well, and the documentary was about to be released. Meanwhile, Sony was taking advantage of their licensing deal and was mounting the series in other lands — including planning in 2010 to mount one in Egypt for 2011.
Some might recall that the beginning of 2011 stood out in Egypt for other reasons, particularly in Cairo. It was the time of “Arab Spring” which led to the overthrow of the Mubarak government. Inevitably, my phone rang again — this time my old bosses wanted to know if I was willing to go to Cairo just one month after that overthrow to make comedy, namely the Arab countries’ adaptation of ELR (which they would come to call “Close Doors”).
When I got the first call about my interest in Moscow in ’04, I had trepidations. Not only was I a NOT yet a world traveler, but having grown up during the Cold War, my general knowledge of Russia, and Moscow in particular, did not exactly conjure a positive image. Moreover, I knew that after the Berlin Wall came down, the reports of severe food shortages and the like were pretty common — not to mention the direct accounts from those of my friends who had visited during that ensuing decade all of whom emphasized the “Big Brother” presence of a dour Intourist guide parked outside their hotel room and shadowing their every move. My soon-to-be-again bosses, assured me that Russia was quite safe and I would be just fine. So with more than a bit of previously undetected courage, I took the job (along with the assurance that I no longer needed to bring my own toilet rolls for “personal use” nor blue jeans for barter).
As it turned out, the times I spent in Moscow during that decade were probably among the most fun (and decadent) since before the revolution, at least for a non-political foreign visitor. No Big Brother (at least not obvious ones), food was readily available, and capitalistic excess was flourishing — to those who could afford it. The cost of living was through the roof and though locals were having a hell of time making ends meet. With some creativity, I was able to make my way on my own sparse per diem.
The Cairo call was a LOT less clear. It would be the first (and only) time I had to sign what I can only describe as “Super-Chicken” indemnity documents. (You may recall that this clucking super-hero would often admonish his sidekick, after he was soundly thrashed by that week’s baddie, saying “You knew the job was dangerous when you took it, Fred.”) I was even given one of those “keep this number with you at all times and call it immediately if you are in danger, you will be whisked away within minutes” type of cards. Somehow, I found a little residue of that original bravery and agreed to go.
Given a few of the less-savory things I witnessed in Moscow — not to mention the growing shadow of Comrade Putin by the time of my last visit — I was much safer in Cairo. Everyone there had my back and they were some of the most gracious hosts you could imagine. Additionally, it is in the Russian character to question . . . well everything — not so much to be contrary, really just because they liked to argue. By contrast, my Egyptian friends not only readily accepted much what I had to share, but they readily understood pretty tough concepts, absorbing them like sponges and immediately followed up with a, “great, what do you do next?” No knock on my mates in Moscow, but I was able to accomplish more in seven weeks in Cairo than the aggregate 9 months I spent in Russia.
I have lots more stories, and may even tell a few of them sometime soon, but I will add this one tidbit of cosmic synergy. To stave off homesickness in all my foreign adventures, I would often listen to NPR broadcasts from that day through the internet. (Though it was odd getting used to listening to a live broadcast of “Morning Edition” in the evening.) Right in the middle of my Cairo assignment, the guest on one NPR broadcast was none other than Phil Rosenthal . . . touting the upcoming release of his documentary, “Exporting Raymond.”
To one and all, Be Safe-Stay Healthy