July 9, 2020

The Legendary Downtown Darren Brown

I spoke to Morley Torgov today. Morley Torgov is a Canadian writer and a lawyer. He is a two-time recipient of the Stephen Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour.

He is 92 years old.

I spoke to him because he is a colleague and friend of my friend Downtown Darren Brown. Darren gave him my book to read and suggested I call him because he kindly and generously offered to write a blurb.

He was as friendly and funny and erudite as Darren promised, and he was very generous with his time. He took down my mailing address and promised to send me his review in the next few weeks. I thanked him profusely and asked what his initial impressions of the book were. He paused for a second and then said, “Let me put it this way - I wouldn’t want to be sitting next to you on a long plane ride.” To be fair, he went on to say some nice things, but I really loved that line.

Of the many books Torgov has authored, one was The Outside Chance of Maximilian Glick. In 1988, the book was made into a movie starring, amongst others, Canadian actor Saul Rubinek.

The movie was shot in Winnipeg, which is where Darren Brown grew up and, as it happens, Darren’s father was an extra in the movie.

I was very familiar with the movie and book, truth be told, in that order, because my parents were best friends with Saul Rubinek’s parents in Ottawa, so we had met him a few times and followed his career quite closely. We still do.

One night last summer, I was having dinner with Darren, his wife Sheryl and one of his daughters on the patio of Café Diplomatico - the venerable Toronto Italian eatery at the corner of Clinton and College. Both Darren and I are rather loquacious and we were trading war stories of our blind-dating days. College Street was our old haunting ground.

If I have to be honest, Darren’s actual stories are better than my fabrications, and he tells them unabashedly in front of both his wife and daughter. Stories I wouldn’t tell to my priest or shrink. But he tells them with such joyful recollection and zest I can understand why his family takes his youthful indiscretions in stride.

That night though, the stories were more funny than lurid and the subject turned to celebrity sightings.

Canadian celebrity sightings.

Somehow Morley Torgov came up, and we talked about The Outside Chance of Maximilian Glick. I told him how I knew Saul Rubinek. Darren told us how he watched the premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, enjoying the movie but mostly waiting for his father’s scene. Finally, just before the end of the film, there was a fleeting glance of Max Brown clapping his hands during the bar mitzvah scene. Blink and you would have missed it.

I said, “That’s funny.”

And he said, “But it doesn’t end there. I’ve got a great story about meeting Saul Rubinek. Have I ever told you my Saul Rubinek story?”

I said no. I didn’t say he had the habit of declaring all of his stories to be great.

He pointed to the restaurant across the street. I think it was now a sushi place, but back in the day it was a trendy resto/bar called Coco Lezonne.

“I was on a blind date with…” and then he went into considerable detail about the woman he was with and some long and convoluted reason why she didn’t want to go on a second date. I mostly tuned out as did Sheryl for what I suspect wasn't the first time, until he then snapped us back to attention with “… and I saw Saul Rubinek sitting at a table across the patio.”

Darren had just the slightest grin because he knew where the story was going and was anticipating the payoff. I envied him a little because I could tell he was reliving the moment, had a real recollection of it. When I tell a story, I mostly only have a recollection of having told it before.

Darren continued. “I went over to his table and apologized for disturbing them. I said I just wanted to tell him I was a huge fan. Saul Rubinek said, ‘Thank you very much. That is very kind of you.’ And then I said, ‘We actually have a bit of a connection.’ And Rubinek said, ‘Really? How is that?’ Then I said…” - and here Darren paused for dramatic effect - “‘You were in my father’s movie.’”

And then he smiled triumphantly.

I had to admit. It was a great line. It was a great story. And I told him so.

“I have another great story from Coco Lezonne.”

Sheryl said, “Darren.”

Darren’s daughter said, “Dad.”

I said, “Downtown.”

Darren took a swig of his Moretti and said, “Okay, your loss. It is a great story.”

Darren called me later that night to tell me the story. I understood. He was on a storyteller’s high.

He was right.

It was a great story.

So if you ever find yourself stuck next to Downtown Darren Brown on a long plane ride, ask him to tell you his Eugene Levy story. You won’t be disappointed.

The end.