In late 1970, a former formula-one race car driver and
current minicab driver received an assignment to deliver a large porcelain phallus
to a movie set in Thamesmead. The driver was Emilio D’Alessandro. The sculpture
would end up being used by Malcolm McDowell as a murder weapon in A Clockwork Orange. The film’s director,
Stanley Kubrick, would end up hiring D’Alessandro as his driver. Despite strict
British Union rules, that job also entailed being Kubrick’s personal maid,
librarian, TV repairman, deliveryman, shopper, translator (for conversations
with Federico Fellini!), veterinarian, dog groomer, tour guide for when his
parents were in town, condom smuggler, and defender against everyone who
believed the myths that Kubrick was a tyrant or a whack job.
Eighteen years after Kubrick’s death, Emilio D’Alessandro
continues to serve in that latter role with his new memoir Stanley Kubrick and Me. Kubrick’s infamously demanding nature is on
full display in this book, and D’Alessandro is frank about the strain his 24-hour-a-day
work schedule put on his own marriage, but the author never has an unkind word
to say about the legendary filmmaker. Consequently, Stanley Kubrick and Me serves a valuable function in the already
massive Kubrick bibliography by truly humanizing the legend. Through
D’Alessandro’s stories we learn of Kubrick’s tendency to be scatterbrained
despite his reputation for being robotically methodical, helpless despite his
reputation for being in complete control of his work, and utterly dependent on
fellow humans despite his reputation for making chilly films about
dehumanization. We get a very intimate look at Kubrick’s love for animals, and
the only thing that really makes him lose his shit is when something goes wrong
with one of his many pets. We learn of his extreme generosity, such as when he offers to care for D’Alessandro’s children after the driver’s wife
loses her father and falls ill. We also learn about the limitations of Kubrick’s
thoughtfulness. He calls D’Alessandro at all hours of the day for assistance
and is baffled when another employee quits because of the job’s demands.
Kubrick assumed that everyone was as devoted to work as he was. He could also
be a real pain in the ass to his wife and daughters and possessed a wealth of
quirks. D’Alessandro confirms the rumors that Kubrick was paranoid about
journalists leaking his ideas and other filmmakers (such as Federico Fellini!)
stealing them. Kubrick thought it strange that D’Alessandro wasn’t related to
Francis Ford Coppola since they are both Italian. He was an incorrigible pack
rat and a massive Danny DeVito fan. Kubrick’s love for and dependence on the
author is also on full display and it makes for some truly touching moments.
With the assistance of writer Fillippo Uliovieri,
D’Alessandro tells his stories without an ounce of pretension, and the charming, regular-guy simplicity of the storytelling further
emphasizes the main thrust of Stanley
Kubrick and Me: Kubrick was extraordinary in multitudinous ways, but when
it comes down to it, he was still pretty down-to-earth and a real, flesh-and-blood human being.