TinselTales: Where Did That Guy Run Off To?

I have written about the subject of today's post before, though eleven years have passed in the meantime! He figured in a lengthy tribute to three different Guys. The man in question is one Guy Williams, famed for his roles on Zorro and Lost in Space. It has always intrigued me the way Williams basically exited his career in 1968 and, in fact, exited the U.S. in 1977, returning only once before his unfortunate death in 1989. He basically severed regular contact with his family in the process. So today we're going to look into that a little bit further. 

Born on January 14th, 1924 to parents of Italian descent, Armando Catalano was schooled at a military academy before growing up into a 6'2" hunk. Working as a print model, he eventually segued into acting, with a Universal Studios contract. He poked around in bit roles before freelancing (appearing in the hooty Sincerely Yours, 1955, and in a variety of TV parts.)

Career salvation came when Walt Disney hand-picked him to portray the title role on Zorro, a hit TV series from 1957 to 1959. Kids couldn't get enough of the Spanish California hero who swashbuckled his way through various adventures.

The tall, handsome Williams inspired a generation of youngsters, but was easy on the eyes of many adults as well. The series enjoyed a healthy budget, making it a popular way for viewers to spend a half hour. The show ran into legal entanglements between Disney and ABC which caused a halt in production. By the time that was settled (after two years!), interest in the concept had cooled.

Regardless of his Italian surname, it was later discovered that his ancestry was likely made up of Spanish people who had migrated to Italy long before, so he was actually more in line with the role than even he knew at the time. The suave, debonair Williams was continuously approached by the ladies, who he may or may not have entertained privately.

Thing was, he was already a husband and father. Married to Janice in 1948, his son Steven was born in 1952 and daughter Toni came along in 1958. The picture perfect family was featured in many publications during his time on Zorro and, later, Lost in Space. Regardless of the smooth manner Williams projected professionally, he was reportedly a fiery, vivacious man in private and a considerable disciplinarian to his children. (Not in an abusive way, more of a constructive, instructive way. The household was a strict one.)

In the wake of Zorro's cancellation, Williams worked on the Disney flick The Prince and the Pauper (1962) and made the European films Damon and Pythias (1962) and, as seen above, Captain Sinbad (1963.)

Devilishly handsome (and sporting some nice legs) in Damon and Pythias.
After these projects, he returned to the U.S. with the promise of a new television venture...

The hit western Bonanza was about to lose one of its key cast members. The saga of a wealthy rancher and his three sons, one son - Pernell Roberts - wanted out of his contract. Williams was brought onto the series as a cousin and plans were made to work him into the mix as a replacement.

Audiences had grown very accustomed to the diverse trio of Cartwright sons and there was a public outcry over the possibility of Pernell's departure. Ultimately, he was retained to finish off his contract, leaving Williams in the lurch and out of a job. Roberts would eventually leave for real (and the show prospered without him for many years after.) DO check out Michael Landon's iconic taupe trousers in this publicity photo, by the way...!

Fortunately for Williams, another break was on the horizon. Irwin Allen hired him to headline a new science-fiction program called Lost in Space, all about a family named Robinson who find themselves, well, lost in outer space! It was a derivation of the famed Daniel Dafoe story Robinson Crusoe. Williams was the husband of June Lockhart and father to three children. Mark Goddard was his faithful assistant.

The initial Lost in Space pilot had only the Robinson Family (along with Goddard) in it. After it was completed, the decision was made to include an antagonist to the mix, which turned out to be Jonathan Harris as the devious and duplicitous Dr. Smith. As the main cast was already set, Smith was granted "Special Guest Star" billing throughout the series' run. The character was a constant fly in the ointment, causing all sorts of mayhem, intentional or otherwise.

During the course of the show, it was basically "stolen" by Harris, young Billy Mumy and the Robot. These three in one combination or another soon became the show's selling point and most of the time the rest of the cast were relegated to supporting roles no matter their billing. The show became campier and, after switching to color, more garish in tone.

Needless to say, this direction did not sit well with Williams who had been hired to headline the series along with Lockhart. He understandably began to lose interest in it, preferring to play the stock market during his plentiful free time. By the time the show was cancelled in 1968, he was through in more ways than one.

The charming Williams is seen here in a 1967 episode of Password in which the answer is "Space." His partner's clue was "Lost..." but it didn't register. Fellow guest Irene Ryan and her partner won. You can clearly see here the way Williams manipulated his hair to provide a false hairline.

Williams had watched "his" series devolve into kiddie-oriented drivel (one of the most humiliating episodes being one in which The Robinsons were held captive by a giant carrot who turned Dr. Smith into a celery stalk!) After its demise, he was able to live comfortably on his investments. But a whole new chapter of life was about to occur.

Argentina was a place that greatly adored Williams' old series Zorro and in 1973 he visited there to be greeted by teeming throngs of fans. He was coaxed at the airport into donning his old hat and there were hordes of autograph seekers and curious spectators at every turn. He returned to Argentina in 1977 with plans to create a new movie featuring his character. A 15-day trip turned into a permanent move...

Williams had plans to reignite the Zorro character, but the project faltered and never got off the ground. (Once George Hamilton's parody Zorro: The Gay Blade, 1981, was green lit, all plans for a legitimate reboot were abandoned by Williams.) He began making public appearances before crowds of thousands. An Argentine Olympian, Fernando Lúpiz, was hired to spar with him during these performances.

Lúpiz, 19 at the time, described his first meeting with Williams thusly: "We looked at each other and we fell in love." !! Needless to say, a revelation like that had my eyes bugging out. But it seems that the relationship was actually more like a father-son association. Williams had separated from his wife and was fairly estranged from his own son over some disagreement (reputedly political.) He and Lúpiz began performing at circuses and Williams lived with the young man's mother for 7 months until he became settled in his new homeland. (You can make out some of Lúpiz in the foreground of the prior photo at an airport as well.)

For 16 years, the two were close friends, traveling and working together as the character of Zorro and "Son of Zorro."

Hideous gossip that I am, I was truly believing that I was on to something here... Notoriously private actor leaves wife and children to move to another country, taking up with a young man and forging an entirely new existence out of U.S. eyes. But it does not seem to be the case - not as I had figured it. His young pal introduced him to a female friend of his, one who caught Williams' eye, and it led to a lengthy, if stormy and tenuous, relationship.

In 1983, Williams made a return to the U.S. in order to appear on a week of celebrity episodes of Family Feud. He also made an appearance on Good Morning America. While here, he finalized his divorce. But he also suffered a heart attack. He headed back to Argentina and was officially retired from performing.

But my instincts that he was in love with his new home for secret reasons were not to be borne out. He actually intended to marry the woman he'd been seeing off and on for several years. But, in a pique of anger over their most recent spat, she'd wed another man! (Not the man shown here! I don't know him.)

The woman, Araceli Lisazo, has described her time with Williams in positively glowing terms. Check out this quote and see if it doesn't melt your butter: "Ours was the love of a novel, from how we met to everything that happened to us, living with him was magical. Never has a man made me feel like this, he made love to me in a wonderful way, I discovered with him that I was multi-orgasmic, although even today no one believes it. He was a unique lover and companion. The first night we spent together we made love all night from eleven at night until eleven in the morning the next day, stopping only to drink champagne and eat nuts. Nobody believes it but he made me have 50 orgasms that time."

Sounds like quite the swordsman, no??! It must be said that when Williams' daughter and ex-wife were preparing a documentary on Williams, they heartily welcomed Lúpiz' involvement, but completely denied the participation of Lisazo. So we may never know exactly what all went down during this mysterious chapter in the actor's life. Living in a variety of furnished apartments, it's been said that he was broke and it's been said that he was rich. There is a lot of disparity in the accounts of his existence during those last years.

What is known is that he sadly died of a brain aneurysm at 65 in 1989. He'd been living a solitary existence for the most part and it wasn't until fellow residents detected a foul scent that his body was discovered by local police. It was an unfortunate end for someone who had given the world a significant slice of entertainment. Initially cremated and laid to rest in Argentina, his son two years later scattered his ashes in the Pacific Ocean, reportedly according to the late actor's wishes. 

Right on the Mark!

When we profile an actor in The Underworld, it's often due to his handsome looks rather than for any Herculean acting talent and today is no exception. However, what today's featured performer had in addition to boyishly adorable features was a well-placed heart with a desire to be a constructive role model to others. And he certainly wasn't a bad actor. He just never made significant enough inroads in that field to sustain a lasting career (and there was more than a little stigma left over from his most famous part!) We refer to 1960s dreamboat Mark Goddard.

Born Charles Goddard on July 24th, 1936 in Lowell, Massachusetts, he was the last of five children born to his parents. Always an athletic young man (and six feet tall), he helped bring state-level glory to both his high school baseball and basketball teams. He even toyed with the idea of pursuing a basketball career, but turned to the idea of acting instead, no doubt thanks to his lean, good looks.

Two years in to his studies at The American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York City, he opted to head for Los Angeles, California where the promise of television and film work seemed more likely. This was 1959, when westerns ruled the television airwaves and though young Goddard had practically no experience with horses, his healthy physique could support the cowboy drag with ease. After being in town only three weeks, having brazenly called contacts he didn't know and headed to movie lots without an appointment, he got lucky.

One of his first gigs was a guest spot on Chuck Connors' The Rifleman. He then caught the eye of producer Aaron Spelling who was producing his very first series (of many, many to come), a western called Johnny Ringo. Spelling wanted a young deputy to play opposite the series' star, singer/actor Don Durant, and settled on the novice actor.

Upon the advice of Chuck Connors (perhaps due to his TV son's character name of Mark McCain, played by Johnny Crawford), Charles Goddard had adopted the new name of Mark Goddard. Thus, Durant, Goddard and Karen Sharpe began starring in what was a reasonably successful show. (Sharpe was fired about halfway through the season in a dispute with Spelling over playing the character her way, as a gutsy tomboy, or his way, as a delicate lady.)

In between the pilot and the series production, Goddard was drafted into the army! He was discharged in time to do the show, but his curly locks had been chopped shorter in the process. Even though ratings for the series were decent, the glut of westerns on television (thirty on the air at this time!) caused the program's sponsor to pull the plug on it and support a sitcom in its place. All was well, though, because he now had experience and contacts. He did several guest appearances on shows including an installment of The DuPont Show which costarred Myrna Loy, The Chevy Mystery Show with Walter Slezak, Nick Adams' The Rebel and an episode of Zane Grey Theater opposite Tuesday Weld (as shown here.)

Even better, he was signed on for the second season of an existing series called The Detectives Starring Robert Taylor. The series starred former movie superstar Taylor and was undergoing a cast shake-up, which left room for an additional character. Goddard joined Taylor and fellow costar Tige Andrews (later to costar on The Mod Squad) and, for one season, Russell Thorson, who departed in 1961.

Do you know who he's posing with in this publicity shot from The Detectives?  It's Donna Douglas, prior to her embodying (for all time, apparently!) Ellie Mae Clampett on The Beverly Hillbillies!

Goddard was with the show from 1960 to 1962, the third and final season being an hour-long program instead of thirty minutes. Adam West joined the show during that season as well. Goddard next filmed a semi-musical, Desilu-produced TV pilot with Ethel Merman called Maggie Brown, about a single mother who operates a South Pacific-set nightclub frequented by sailors (sign me up!), but it didn't come to fruition.

In 1961, Goddard married Marcia Rogers and the two proceeded to have two children together. They generally seemed a happy couple and were socially active amongst their peer group in Tinseltown. They were particularly close to a starlet named Karyn Kupcinet who was a busy TV actress in the late-'50s and early-'60s and who was dating fellow actor Andrew Prine.

Unfortunately, Kupcinet (seen here with a young James Caan) was a very troubled young lady with a propensity for diet pill abuse and a roller-coaster relationship with Prine, who was not as on-board with monogamy in their relationship as she was. She struggled with depression and anxiety over her obsession with her weight and with Prine until one day Goddard and his wife found her dead in her apartment! She was nude and seemed to have been strangled.

Countless theories popped up about it; everything from an accident occurring during a nude dance to a mob hit in relation to the Kennedy assassination. Her autopsy was reportedly mishandled by a coroner with a drinking problem. Prine was also questioned. The case, however, was never solved and remains that way to this day.

Goddard was a frequent guest star on many of the hit TV shows of the time, in a variety of genres. He did Burke's Law, The Beverly Hillbillies, The Bill Dana Show, The Virginian, Gunsmoke, Perry Mason and The Fugitive. He also landed yet another regular series role, this time on the sitcom Many Happy Returns, as the son-in-law of a fussbudgety return department store clerk played by John McGiver. As shown here, Elinor Donahue played his wife. The show only made it one season from 1964-1965.

A first for Goddard came in 1965 when he made his debut on the big screen. The bad news is that it was in the trifling Disney comedy The Monkey's Uncle, starring Tommy Kirk and Annette Funicello (and a chimpanzee!) The film was a hit with kids, but added little, if any, luster his career.

A more provocative part came his way that same year in A Rage to Live, all about the struggles of a nymphomaniac (played by Suzanne Pleshette) who is deflowered as a teen by one of her brother's friends (played by Goddard) and decides she likes it! She proceeds to attract a variety of men from Bradford Dillman to Peter Graves to Ben Gazarra.

Goddard's appalled mother in the film was played by Brett Somers, who would later go on to fame as a regular panelist on Match Game. His horny, sometimes rude character gave him a chance to play something different than the idealistic good guys he'd come to portray most often. You can read more about this deliciously faux-dirty movie here in a profile I did on it a while back.

Any further immediate forays into the movie business would have to wait, however. He had agreed to costar in a pilot for still another TV series and this one would not only be picked up, but would run three seasons and, more importantly, become a cult culture touchstone that survives vigorously to this day. The pilot was called “Space Family Robison,” a riff on the Robert Louis Stevenson classic novel Swiss Family Robinson, and concerned a father and mother with three children who depart the Earth in a spaceship along with one fellow astronaut (Goddard) only to be stranded in outer space, unable to return home.

After the pilot was shot, it was determined that there should be an antagonist on board who could be part of the series to provide conflict. So the pilot was re-shot with the addition of Jonathan Harris as a crafty saboteur named Dr. Smith. It was also renamed Lost in Space. Because all of the billing for the show had been contracted previously, Harris suggested and obtained “Special Guest Star” billing for the run of the show, the chief stars being Guy Williams and June Lockhart.

From the start, Goddard regretted signing on to the show since he was on the threshold of finally obtaining a movie career, but it turned out to be a success. Ironically, even though his own role and that of the other adult stars wound up being shunted to one side in order to showcase Harris, child actor Billy Mumy and the famous Robot, he found himself becoming extremely fond of the literate, articulate and flamboyant Harris. They would become lifelong friends. (Harris' character, a highly effeminate variation of Clifton Webb with a dollop of Martita Hunt tossed in, could not have come off as more gay, though the actor himself was reportedly not so.)

Goddard was paired often with the eldest child of the Robinson family, played by Marta Kristin. As a youngster watching the series in reruns, I couldn't quite decide if I wanted to strangle Kristin out of jealously or simply be her so I could cling to the delectable Goddard every time something threatening happened. They certainly made an attractive couple (and their romantic relationship was downplayed more and more as the series progressed, resulting in practically nothing by the end.)

Now we know that this below is absolutely nothing more than a suggestive fold in the trouser leg of Mr. Goddard's and not a representation of Mark Jr., but isn't it fun to momentarily presume otherwise? (Click to, er, enlarge! LOL)

Lost in Space began in black and white, with a comparatively serious and sinister tone, but in its second season switched to color. The clothing of the actors thus became almost comically garish, with plenty of bright orange, pink, yellow, green and rust velour in various combinations. It took quite a man to pull off some of these looks and Goddard succeeded on that count.

Still, with Harris, Mumy and the Robot (who was regularly insulted by Harris in a never-ending series of alliterative ad-libs such as “Nickel-plated Nincompoop” or “Miserable Mass of Metal”) stealing 90% of the focus, Goddard's contributions, like the others, became more and more negligible.

During one of the hiatuses of Space, Goddard accepted a film role which afforded him something different to do rather than yell at the scheming Harris or fend off “killer vegetables” (Lost in Space had begun to devolve to that level.) The Love-Ins was a thinly-veiled (yet enhanced) rendition of the LSD-espousing Dr. Timothy Leary.

Richard Todd played the lead, James MacArthur (Danno of Hawaii 5-O fame) and Susan Oliver were a couple of his followers and Goddard was one of the chief drug dealers who is enmeshed in the “far-out” and “groovy” storyline (which is filtered through the staid sensibilities of Columbia Pictures versus any other gritty independent company.) Needless to say, this movie did not signal a new era in Goddard's cinematic career.

In the wake of Lost in Space's cancellation (in 1968), Goddard and Marcia were divorced after eight years of marriage. He also returned to the occasional TV guest role such as on The Mod Squad (shown at right) and on Adam-12 (a special episode in which he played, in flashback, Martin Milner's best friend, an officer who is killed in the line of duty.) That was in 1970 and his career momentum slowed considerably after that. He remarried in 1970 as well, to actress Susan Anspach, then on a roll from Five Easy Pieces.

He took a minor, unbilled role in the 1972 Woody Allen film Play it Again, Sam (in which Anspach had a bigger part), but didn't work on screen again until the 1974 TV-movie The Death Squad. Here, he joined Robert Forster, Claude Akins and Melvyn Douglas in a story about vigilante policemen who have been killing criminals who in their estimation weren't dealt the proper hand of justice by the court system. The project was a swiftly-made cash-in on Clint Eastwood's Magnum Force, which was on the verge of release (and, in fact, came out two weeks before this telefilm aired.)

Again, he made ends meet with plenty of guest work on shows like Barnaby Jones, Petrocelli, Switch, The Streets of San Francisco and Quincy, M.E. Then he took part in what is surely one of the most unusual blips on his resume. Still tan, lean and handsome, he took a featured (but non-singing) role in the 1977 Broadway musical The Act, all about a fading film star staging a comeback on stage in Las Vegas. The star was portrayed by none other than Liza Minnelli, who won a Tony for her work (despite plenty of absences and uneven behavior during those heady, Studio 54 days.) The overpriced show ran for 233 performances, but was incapable of making back its money. (He almost has a Billy Crystal thing going on here!)

By 1978, his marriage to Anspach was over. (The split may or may not have had to do with Anspach having a child that she later claimed to belong to her Easy Pieces costar Jack Nicholson!) Goddard did take a supporting part in an oddball 1978 thriller called Blue Sunshine, which starred Zalman King (later to enjoy a measure of success directing a series of Red Shoe Diaries softcore movies.)

It concerned the aftermath when some 1960s hippies had taken some LSD in their youth only to wind up a decade later losing their hair and morphing into zombie-like killers! Goddard played a politician who was in danger of flipping out any moment thanks to his prior drug use. The generally obscure, low-budget movie retains a cult following these days.

During this catch as catch can phase of his life, he popped up on Benson, B.J. and the Bear and also played the bad guy (albeit a rather tame one) in the craptacular mess Roller Boogie (1979.) He portrayed a shifty land developer who wants to buy up a Venice beach roller rink, much to the dismay of Linda Blair (yes, that Linda Blair) and her spandex and satin-clad cronies. After taking nearly an hour to show up in the 103-minute film, he is ultimately fended off with (I'm not making this up) projectile fruit...

Understandably, considering the caliber of work available to him, Goddard welcomed the opportunity to begin appearing on daytime television. First came a stint on One Life to Live in 1982, followed by another on The Doctors in 1983. In 1984, a longer assignment came with a role on General Hospital, then the #1 soap opera on TV, in which he played a character named Derek Barrington (no doubt inspired by the #1 prime-time show Dynasty's Blake Carrington.)

After departing General Hospital, he played a guest role on Jake and the Fatman and then did something rather unexpected. At age fifty, he went back to school in his home state of Massachusetts, earned a Masters Degree in Education and proceeded to become a teacher at a school for students with behavioral problems. At this stage in his life, he saw no use in waiting around for the scarce decent acting gigs that might come his way and was determined to do something positive and fulfilling.

Having costarred in one of science-fiction television's most enduring favorites, there was no chance he was going to be completely forgotten, but he was anonymous enough to the younger generation of students for his fame not to be too much of a distraction. He also began to make the rounds at various conventions and fan events in his off time, frequently appearing with Marta Kristin once again. In 1990, he married for a third time to a lady he met in Massachusetts and remains with to this day.

In 1998, renewed interest in Lost in Space came about thanks to a big screen remake (you know, how every conceivable TV show under the sun was being re-envisioned as a feature film? Usually a shitty one...) He was approached to make a cameo appearance along with all of his surviving costars and he did, as a General. Mumy, however, was bumped out of his cameo when it was declared that having him play his old character as a grown-up would be too distracting and then-eighty-four year-old Harris flatly refused the entire enterprise, proclaiming, “I will have you know I have never done a walk-on or bit part in my life! And I do not intend to start.” Goddard's role was taken on in this new version by...  Matt LeBlanc...

Also in 1998, a retrospective special called Lost in Space Forever was done in which Harris and Mumy reprised their roles (along with the Robot, naturally) and the rest of the cast, including Goddard, reminisced about their time on Lost in Space.

Having gotten his toes wet in the public conscience again, he took on a supporting role in an independent film called Overnight Sensation (2000.) In it, he played a washed-up agent who helps a novice writer drum up interest in his screenplay while attending the Sundance Film Festival. Sean Dugan (later to work on the TV series Smash) and Maxwell Caulfield were among the other performers in the little-seen film.

A final (to date anyway!) role came in 2010 with the obscure, low-budget movie Soupernatural. The story concerned the appearance of Jesus Christ serving soup at a church festival and the hubbub that occurs thereafter. Goddard was stunt cast along with a plethora of other “past their sell by date” stars such as Lou Ferrigno, Pamela Sue Martin, Dee Wallace, Butch Patrick, Paul Peterson and Kathy Garver (the last three former TV child stars.)

Today, Mark Goddard is seventy-six years old, but remains a slender, healthy man with a bright smile and a willingness to help others. Aside from the students who benefitted from his instruction over the years, he has a reputation among sci-fi fans for being a warm, friendly presence at various events.

He wrote about some of his life and career in a slim, 120-page volume called “To Space and Back,” which delighted as many people as it left wanting still more from him. Considering some of the huge names he rubbed elbows with, many of them not mentioned in this post, he probably could have penned a book twice as long! In any case, we adore Goddard for his kind nature, his sense of humor and needless to say his adorable, boy next door, good looks.