When the notification popped up on my phone that the comedic genius Catherine O'Hara died, I put my phone down and hoped that I was just imagining it. But no. It's sadly real -- she's gone, and our world is a lot less funnier.
The tributes to her career are numerous, and the media and public are recalling her works in movies like Beetlejuice I & II, Home Alone, the Christopher Guest mockumentaries, as well as the great TV shows that bookended her career -- SCTV in the late 1970s/early 1980s and Schitt's Creek in the last twenty-teens.
But here at Mr NYC, we remember the off-beat work of great talents, most especially involving those related to the city. And in 1985, between her stint on SCTV and her later big hits, Catherine had a small role in the wackiest movie that Martin Scorsese ever made -- After Hours.
In fact, her future Home Alone co-star John Heard is in it, along with the late Terri Garr. Please check out the Mr NYC After Hours archive -- and remember one of the greatest comic actresses of her era and a movie from a different time in the life of NYC. RIP.
Okay, I promise, this will be the last Out for Justice post ever on Mr NYC. This is the opening credits for one of the best bad NYC movies ever made. They just don't make movies like this any more than are this balls-to-wall politically incorrect, nasty, and fun. Today movies take themselves much too seriously. But back in 1991 some movies still had a sense humor.
On this date 47 years ago, the 41st Vice-President of the United States, Nelson Aldrich Rockefeller, died of a heart attack. He was 70.
"Rocky", as he was known, was the scion of one of the richest families on Earth, and had been the governor of New York State from 1959 to 1973. His legacy in this city and state was significant, as I blogged about many years ago. In 1974 he became Vice-President after President Nixon had resigned and Gerald Ford became president. Rockefeller left office in 1977 and returned to NYC.
Two years later he was dead.
On the night of January 26, 1979, it was announced, as you'll see below, that he had died in his office at Rockefeller Center while working on a book in the presence of his bodyguard.
Ehhh ... not really.
Actually Rocky was in an East Side townhouse that he owned with his secretary Megan Marshack. This townhouse appears to have been a very classy love nest. Rocky and Megan were banging on the floor -- apparently she was riding him cowgirl when the old man had a heart attack. Now she obviously should have called 911 right away as that might have saved his life. But no. Instead she made a series of phone calls to her psychiatrist and her friend who rushed over to the townhouse. Together, apparently, they got Rocky dressed and then the friend called 911. But it was too late. The mighty Rocky -- billionaire, governor, Vice-President, titan of his times -- had died in the most tawdry way possible.
For days and weeks afterwards the scandal fascinated the NYC tabloids. But then ... it just kind of petered out.
The Rockefeller's used their wealth and power to cover it up quite effectively. Rocky was creamated the very next day so no autopsy was performed. Megan Marshak, and presumably her friend, signed NDAs and were probably paid off. Also, it helped that at the same time this scandal was unfolding there was a revolution going on in Iran and that grabbed the headlines. And, of course, Rocky was out of office so this incident had no real political implications.
There were no criminal charges. No arrests. No lawsuits. No legal actions of any kind. No tell-all books or teary interviews or multi-part true crime documentaries.
Amazingly, Megan Marshak remained quiet until her death in October 2024. She lived a relatively productive, and regular life. She worked at CBS News in NYC for almost 20 years before moving to Calfornia and living there until her death. She married later in life, had no children, and died in relative obscurity. Interestingly she was also 70 years old when she died, the same age as the great man she shtupped to death.
Half a century later, most New Yorkers probably haven't heard of Nelson Rockefeller much less the scandalous way that he left this mortal coil.
As NYC prepares for a big snowstorm this weekend, our new mayor is on the case!
This is the first big test of his mayoralty and no doubt the tabloids and the Republicans want him to fail -- so it's good to see Mayor Z is preparing, communicating, and ready to go as this storm hits.
A month in, it's interesting to see what a quiet, competent, nose-to-the-grindstone leader he's been. It's a HUUUUGE relief from the chaos of Eric Adams.
And talking about our former, unmissed mayor, the great NYC journalist Erroll Louis has written an interesting article about how the full scale of corruption in the Adams administration is still unknown. Even though he was only in office for four years, he number of people who worked for Adams that got indicted, the number of sleazy deals and activities, is breathtaking. It remind me of Nixon -- even years, decades after he resigned in disgrace, documents and tapes kept coming out revealing he was even worse that we knew. I'm sure the same is true of Eric Adams.
Over the years something'll pop up in the NYC tabloids about Richie Akiva. He's a big club owner/party promoter/nightlife guru whose run clubs like Butter and 10Oak and others.
Richie has a lot of celebrity friends, was part of Leo's "pussy posse", dated an Olsen twin, and he's just one of the best-connected happening party guys in town.
He's also something of a criminal.
Last year he was busted for driving without a license. He's been involved in all kinds of lawsuits, accused of ripping off former business partners, and now he's been arrested for beating a guy in the head with a metal pipe.
Egads.
Richie's got some problems. It reminds me of that movie I blogged about a few years ago, Out for Justice, which is all about a crime boss named Richie who the heroic cop is looking for -- "Anybody seen Richie?" is his constant refrain.
Here's a interesting postscript: I actually went to school with Richie Akiva way back in the day. We were in 9th grade together but then, I recall, he vanished -- he was kicked out. (I remember it was from Richie that I first learned the term "herb" as being a pejorative.) He wound up a private school for rich juvenile deliquents.
And that's the thing -- Richie's a rich kid.
He was born into a wealthy family who set him up in the club business. He walks and talks, dresses and behaves like a badass, but he's really just a spoiled brat. And it looks like fate is catching up with him.
Last year, after my visit to Paris, I blogged about the amazing exhibit there displaying items from the movies of Wes Anderson.
Few directors have as unique an aesthetic as Anderson, all of his movies have a certain look and feel and mood that binds them together. Several of his movies contains objects that are specific to his oddball universe -- part of the painterly look that his movies have.
Anyway, the Wes Anderson exhibit is going on the road and is only now being written about in the USA -- so, my blog post from last year is year another example of how Mr NYC is Ahead of His Time.
Last year I blogged a lot about the rise of Zohran Mamdani from an largely unknown State Assemblyman into the Mayor of NYC. You can read about all of that here.
And now, ladies and gentlemen ... here iz Hizzoner ...
