Crooner Al Martino was on the line from his home in Philadelphia.
It was 1999 or 2000, a lifetime ago.
The Spanish Eyes singer and Godfather star wanted to talk. He’d seen a story I’d written for the New York Post where I worked at the time and liked it.
Al thought I might be interested in a story he had to tell.
I thought of Martino this week in the wake of the death of his Godfather co-star, iconic tough guy James Caan, and the rollicking day we spent together long ago.
Martino wanted me to come down and spend the day with him in Philly. I took the train to 30th St. Station in the City of Brotherly Love.
The singer — who famously played the singer Johnny Fontaine in the operatic mob epic released in 1972 — picked me up in his maroon Cadillac, and we drove through the mobbed up streets of South Philly.
“You know, the myth has always been that Johnny Fontaine was based on Frank Sinatra. He wasn’t. He was based on me,” Martino told me.
We had lunch at a Mafia-run Italian restaurant, and we talked some more.
Born in Philadelphia, Martino served in the U.S. Navy during the Second World War before embarking on a singing career.
By 1953, Martino had inked a deal with prestigious Capitol Records, but at that time, the Mafia had its fingers into every aspect of the American economy. One of the industries it infiltrated was the music business.
“They [the mob] literally made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Martino told me. “They had bought out my management contract and wanted $75,000 to protect their investment. I gave them some money to keep them happy, then got the hell out of the country.”
Martino fled to the U.K. where he continued to rack up hits, but his American career had stalled. He wasn’t getting radio play or appearing on TV.
“But I had an ace up my sleeve. My godfather was Russell Buffalino,” Martino said, adding he reached out to the older man for help.
The low-profile Buffalino was the boss of the small but influential Pennsylvania crime family based in Scranton. The mobster was widely-respected by the bigger outfits as a visionary and a wily, ruthless operator.
He let it be known that Martino was under his protection. The singer returned from exile and the hits followed, including Spanish Eyes in 1965.
By 1971, Martino’s career was in the doldrums. A pal suggested he read Mario Puzo’s 1969 bestseller, The Godfather.
“He told me, ‘you’ll see a lot of yourself in Johnny Fontaine, Al’. And he was right. It blew my mind how similar our stories were; I knew I had to have that role,” the singer said.
Johnny Fontaine was a popular singer who had lost his marriage, his voice and his career. Girls swoon when he arrives at Connie Corleone’s wedding before he goes upstairs to see his godfather, Don Vito Corleone.
Fontaine moans about his woes to the underworld chief and how, if he could only get a particular part in an upcoming blockbuster, all would be well.
“You can start by being a man,” the Don scolds him, then promises he will get the role because he’s going to make the producer “an offer he can’t refuse”.
In real life, Martino contacted producer Albert Ruddy about the role, who agreed.
“And then Ruddy decided he didn’t want me and neither did [director] Francis Ford Coppola, but I knew I was right for the part,” Martino said, as we hit our third watering hole of the day.
Coppola had decided on lounge singer Vic Damone for the role of Fontaine, but that didn’t last long. Martino said he contacted Buffalino, a man prone to playing rough.
What followed were a slew of stories planted in the press suggesting that Coppola had been in the dark about Ruddy awarding the role to Martino. Martino got the part and the rest is history.
Martino died aged 82 in 2009.
But whenever The Godfather comes up, I can’t resist telling people about my boozy day with Johnny Fontaine.
bhunter@postmedia.com
@HunterTOSun
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