What You Do is Who You Are: Irena's Vow Screenwriter Dan Gordon on Telling the Story of a Teenager Who Saved Jews During the Holocaust

You might not expect the passion project of the writer who brought us “Rambo: First Blood,” “Highlander,” and the action comedy “Gotcha!” would be the story of a Polish teenager who hid a small group of Jews from the Nazis. But that is what “Irena’s Vow” is for Dan Gordon. In an interview with RogerEbert.com, Gordon described his beginnings in Hollywood, with a wild story about the legendary Lew Wasserman, how he met Irena, and how he told her story three times in three different media: as a play, a movie, and a book. How did you get started as a screenwriter? I was born in Los Angeles. I was raised in a little town called Bell Gardens in southeast LA up until the time that I was 16. Then I ran away from home, wound up on a kibbutz in Israel, went to high school in Israel, came back for college, and studied acting with a wonderful man named Corey Allen. I ran into Corey one day on campus at UCLA and asked what he was doing there. It was 1967. He said, “I've just been hired by Universal as part of their new talent program. “The Graduate” and “Easy Rider” had come out, and Lew Wasserman decided there was a future in youth film. “I've been hired to do a youth film, and I'm here on campus looking to see if anybody has a script.” And I said, “Well, Corey, this is just the luckiest day of your life because I happen to have the greatest youth film ever written,” which, of course, I did not. I had written a one-act play for a directing class, and it was a one-actor play because I couldn't get anybody except this one guy to act in it. So, it was basically a half-hour monologue, and I knew all the words. I didn't realize that I was pitching, but I started performing the play, and he said, “This is really great. Let's go across the hill to Universal.” We went across the hill to Universal, and I pitched it to Ned Tannen, who was the head of productions at Universal at that time. Ned said, “How old are you?” I said, “I'm 20 years old.” He said, Call your mother. You're too young to sign a contract.” I called my mother, and I didn't think I might need an agent or a lawyer, God forbid, and I got $1,875.26, which was guild scale at that time. I lived on that for two years. Was the movie ever made? No, of course not! Shortly after I was hired to write, they gave me an office in a motel across the street from the studio, which became known as the Schlepper Colony. That's how bad it was. But that was a big deal. I was a 20-year-old kid and I had an office. They had all these office supplies - whiteout and carbon paper and yellow legal pads, wonderful pencils. So I called all my friends, and I said, “Hey anybody needs office supplies I can hook you up. They give you all this stuff for free when you work here!”  I loaded up my car on a Thursday. On Friday, I got into my office and the phone rang; a female voice said, “Please hold for Mr. Wasserman. I was positive that was one of my friends playing a joke on me because Lou Wasserman didn't know I was alive. So, I said, “You know what, Lou, I'm too busy for this shit, f*ck you,” and I hung up. Phone rings again, there's no secretary, the receiver leaps off the cradle, wraps itself around my neck three times, goes off, and I suddenly realize it's Lew Wasserman. I said, “Oh my God, Mr. Wasserman, I'm so sorry, I thought it was one of my friends playing a trick on me, and I would never speak disrespectfully to you. But honestly, if all you’ve got to worry about on the 15th floor is me taking office supplies, life has to be pretty good. I'm writing this great movie, you're going to love it, you're a busy guy, I'm a busy guy, it's been an honor talking to you, and I'm going to get going. You have a wonderful day.”  I hung up. And the phone didn't ring. And I thought, “Whoa, all right, I handled that. That was good.”  Monday, I come into the office and my name is off the door. My stuff is piled up in a box and the locks have been changed. They had revoked my parking pass and I had to pay to get out.  Cut to 20-plus years later. I've got a picture in turnaround from Fox called “Gotcha!” that starred Anthony Edwards and Linda Fiorentino. I’m meeting with Frank Price, head of productions at that time, 14th floor. We're coming out of Frank's office, elevator doors open, out steps Lou Wasserman. And Frank said, “Oh, Mr. Wasserman” -- everybody called him Mr. Wasserman -- nobody called him Lew. I think his mother called him Mr. Wasserman. He says, “This is Dan Gordon, we've got a picture of his in turnaround.”  I see that the wheels are turning, and he's trying to place, “Where does he know that name from?” I'm pushing that elevator button, and I'm just like, “Come on, get me out of here." Lew was a tall, skinny guy, and he reached out and grabbed me with this bony, old guy grip between the muscle and the bone. He doesn't look at me; he looked at Frank, and he said, “Just make sure he doesn’t steal the office supplies this time.”  How did you meet Irena?  I was driving home, listening to a

What You Do is Who You Are: Irena's Vow Screenwriter Dan Gordon on Telling the Story of a Teenager Who Saved Jews During the Holocaust
You might not expect the passion project of the writer who brought us “Rambo: First Blood,” “Highlander,” and the action comedy “Gotcha!” would be the story of a Polish teenager who hid a small group of Jews from the Nazis. But that is what “Irena’s Vow” is for Dan Gordon. In an interview with RogerEbert.com, Gordon described his beginnings in Hollywood, with a wild story about the legendary Lew Wasserman, how he met Irena, and how he told her story three times in three different media: as a play, a movie, and a book. How did you get started as a screenwriter? I was born in Los Angeles. I was raised in a little town called Bell Gardens in southeast LA up until the time that I was 16. Then I ran away from home, wound up on a kibbutz in Israel, went to high school in Israel, came back for college, and studied acting with a wonderful man named Corey Allen. I ran into Corey one day on campus at UCLA and asked what he was doing there. It was 1967. He said, “I've just been hired by Universal as part of their new talent program. “The Graduate” and “Easy Rider” had come out, and Lew Wasserman decided there was a future in youth film. “I've been hired to do a youth film, and I'm here on campus looking to see if anybody has a script.” And I said, “Well, Corey, this is just the luckiest day of your life because I happen to have the greatest youth film ever written,” which, of course, I did not. I had written a one-act play for a directing class, and it was a one-actor play because I couldn't get anybody except this one guy to act in it. So, it was basically a half-hour monologue, and I knew all the words. I didn't realize that I was pitching, but I started performing the play, and he said, “This is really great. Let's go across the hill to Universal.” We went across the hill to Universal, and I pitched it to Ned Tannen, who was the head of productions at Universal at that time. Ned said, “How old are you?” I said, “I'm 20 years old.” He said, Call your mother. You're too young to sign a contract.” I called my mother, and I didn't think I might need an agent or a lawyer, God forbid, and I got $1,875.26, which was guild scale at that time. I lived on that for two years. Was the movie ever made? No, of course not! Shortly after I was hired to write, they gave me an office in a motel across the street from the studio, which became known as the Schlepper Colony. That's how bad it was. But that was a big deal. I was a 20-year-old kid and I had an office. They had all these office supplies - whiteout and carbon paper and yellow legal pads, wonderful pencils. So I called all my friends, and I said, “Hey anybody needs office supplies I can hook you up. They give you all this stuff for free when you work here!”  I loaded up my car on a Thursday. On Friday, I got into my office and the phone rang; a female voice said, “Please hold for Mr. Wasserman. I was positive that was one of my friends playing a joke on me because Lou Wasserman didn't know I was alive. So, I said, “You know what, Lou, I'm too busy for this shit, f*ck you,” and I hung up. Phone rings again, there's no secretary, the receiver leaps off the cradle, wraps itself around my neck three times, goes off, and I suddenly realize it's Lew Wasserman. I said, “Oh my God, Mr. Wasserman, I'm so sorry, I thought it was one of my friends playing a trick on me, and I would never speak disrespectfully to you. But honestly, if all you’ve got to worry about on the 15th floor is me taking office supplies, life has to be pretty good. I'm writing this great movie, you're going to love it, you're a busy guy, I'm a busy guy, it's been an honor talking to you, and I'm going to get going. You have a wonderful day.”  I hung up. And the phone didn't ring. And I thought, “Whoa, all right, I handled that. That was good.”  Monday, I come into the office and my name is off the door. My stuff is piled up in a box and the locks have been changed. They had revoked my parking pass and I had to pay to get out.  Cut to 20-plus years later. I've got a picture in turnaround from Fox called “Gotcha!” that starred Anthony Edwards and Linda Fiorentino. I’m meeting with Frank Price, head of productions at that time, 14th floor. We're coming out of Frank's office, elevator doors open, out steps Lou Wasserman. And Frank said, “Oh, Mr. Wasserman” -- everybody called him Mr. Wasserman -- nobody called him Lew. I think his mother called him Mr. Wasserman. He says, “This is Dan Gordon, we've got a picture of his in turnaround.”  I see that the wheels are turning, and he's trying to place, “Where does he know that name from?” I'm pushing that elevator button, and I'm just like, “Come on, get me out of here." Lew was a tall, skinny guy, and he reached out and grabbed me with this bony, old guy grip between the muscle and the bone. He doesn't look at me; he looked at Frank, and he said, “Just make sure he doesn’t steal the office supplies this time.”  How did you meet Irena?  I was driving home, listening to a