I have just two words for producer Lawrence Turman, who died Saturday at 96. “Thank you.” Way back in 1968, Larry Turman, who at the time had much bigger things on his mind, managed to change my life.
I was then growing up in the working-class suburbs of Detroit. A garage band of which I was the drummer had landed a gig at the Willow Drive-in outside of Ypsilanti.
One of the pictures that night was The Graduate, produced by Turman (and directed by Mike Nichols). Although I’d never given it one minute’s thought before, I went home that night knowing I would live in California.
It wasn’t Mrs. Robinson that did it. No, really, it was Benjamin Braddock’s manic tour up and down the state, back when California was still as good as its myth.
Read more on deadline.com