Brando offered me $1million to be his lover, Godfather star’s PA reveals in astonishing memoir
Even by Marlon Brando’s own standards, it was an extraordinary performance. Playing Mafia boss Don Corleone in The Godfather rescued his career and once again established him as one of Hollywood’s best and most influential actors.
But without me, he would never have taken the part.
It was 1972 and I had been working as Marlon’s personal secretary for 15 years. During this time Marlon used to receive many unsolicited books and scripts, and one such work to arrive at his home was Mario Puzo’s The Godfather.
I had heard good things about it and so I took it to Marlon. He dismissed it immediately. ‘I’m not going to glorify the Mafia,’ he muttered.
I wasn’t going to let this stop me, especially as I knew that executives at Paramount Studios were searching for someone to play Don Corleone. However, every time I mentioned it to Marlon, he ignored me.
In frustration, I remarked casually that Laurence Olivier was auditioning for the part. ‘Laurence Olivier!’ he sneered. ‘He can’t play a Mafia Don.’ I had finally caught his attention.
A little later, Marlon came into my office asking if there was any black shoe polish in the house. After a few minutes, he summoned me to his room. He had darkened his eyebrows and lined his eyes, and the polish glistened on his slicked-back hair.
I wasn’t sure whether he was meant to look like Rudolph Valentino or a gigolo. Nevertheless, he went to audition for the role of Don Corleone and the rest is history.
If I had any misconceptions about what life working for Marlon Brando would be like, he quickly put me straight.
‘I’m crazy,’ he told me in all seriousness. ‘You should also know that I’m addicted to sex.’
It was 1957 and Marlon was already an international star, having made his name in films such as A Streetcar Named Desire and The Wild One. He had also won an Oscar for his iconic role in 1954’s On The Waterfront.
Not that I was impressed. As he tried to persuade me to become his assistant, I thought him uncouth and self-centred. I also knew that two of his previous secretaries had suffered nervous breakdowns.
Despite my doubts, I took the job. When I got to know him, he assured me, I would think better of him. I was to stay with him, on and off, for almost 50 years.
Very soon after I began working for him, Marlon, then aged 33, summoned me to his Hollywood house.
He came bounding down the stairs wearing just a pair of briefs, and called to me as he went through to the kitchen. In between stuffing himself with a pastry and swilling it down with milk, he said: ‘I want you to keep what I’m going to tell you a secret.’
He paused. ‘I’m getting married.’
Thinking he was kidding, I scoffed: ‘Who’d have you?’ ‘Anna Kashfi.’ Although Marlon had been dating the actress on and off, the news rather took me by surprise.
‘I thought you told me you weren’t seeing her any more,’ I said.
‘She’s pregnant. So I’m going to marry her.’ ‘When?’ ‘Today.’
Just as nonchalantly, Marlon added: ‘There’s a girl upstairs getting dressed. Stay out of sight until you hear the door close. She doesn’t want you to see her.’
Marlon married Anna but they split up soon afterwards. However, they were reconciled after their son Christian was born in May 1958, and the family moved into a rented house on Mulholland Drive in Los Angeles.