SCOTT TACKLES PATTON--ON HIS TERMS THIS TIME

George C. Scott is positively convivial these days as he winds up a reprise of his role as Gen. George Patton for a CBS special, “The Last Days of Patton.”

For Scott, the happiness seems uncharacteristic. One senses that it is in part because of the high regard in which he is held here; in part because this, for him, has been a true labor of love.

For years, George C. Scott found it almost impossible to sit down over a drink and talk about his life, his work and himself. He was an angry man, a volatile man, and he had no patience with those who appeared anxious to intrude upon his carefully guarded privacy.

So, when he was not working, he would retire to his 13-acre Connecticut home and go to ground. Once, it is said, his wife, actress Trish Van Devere, took the telephone off the hook for almost a year. The only way to reach them was through the gardener--and only a privileged few were given that number.

As for being seen in Hollywood, a producer once offered $1,000 to anyone who could prove they had seen Scott in any of the fashionable hangouts. The bet was never won.

But Scott, the craggy-faced, heavily built star of so many movies--”Dr. Strangelove,” “The Day of the Dolphin,” “Anatomy of a Murder”--is 57 now and he has mellowed somewhat.

In 1970, he starred in the movie “Patton.” The film was a great success, but for Scott it proved a frustrating experience. He wanted Patton shown as more than just a blood-and-guts warrior, but the producers remained unconvinced. Commercially, of course, they were probably right, but this did not appease Scott.

However, during the making of the movie he became friends with Ladislas Farago, the writer whose book was source material for the film. And when Farago wrote his final book, “The Last Days of Patton,” Scott immediately optioned it.

A Chrysler Showcase presentation with no air date as yet, it shows a different George Patton, a man who advocated war against the Russians, using the Germans as allies, a man who fiercely resisted the de-Nazification plan of Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower. Because of this, he was ultimately relieved of his 3rd Army command.

Sitting hunched in the corner of a London hotel bar, Scott talked about his satisfaction in presenting this side of the man.

“It’s the story I’ve always wanted to do,” he said. “I always urged that we give a more rounded portrayal of the man when we made the film 16 years ago, but nobody would listen. When I bought the rights to Farago’s book, I hired William Luce (the award-winning author of “The Belle of Amherst”) to do the screenplay. I did not want a Hollywood writer. I wanted a playwright and a poet and in Luce I got both.

“Still, nobody wanted to make the film. I guess they felt it was repetitious. But then Bill (producer William F.) Storke and his partners (Alfred Kelman, Robert Fuisz) decided to go ahead and here we are”.

Scott’s makeup man for “The Last Days of Patton” is Del Acevedo, who made him up for “Patton.”

“We’ve been together for 19 years,” Scott said. “Made 29 pictures together. But whereas he had to age me for the movie ‘Patton,’ now he’s got to try and make me look younger.” He laughed, that wheezy, music-hall-villain laugh. “He’s the best there is but, even so, he’s got his work cut out.”

For the role, Scott shaved his head and had his nose straightened with putty. And he used a lower bridge to push out his jaw.

“I look nothing like Patton really,” he said. “He had a patrician face; mine, mine’s that of a peasant. So a lot had to be done.”

Because it was his idea, Scott had a big say in the casting of this TV film and he feels confident that good choices were made. Eva Marie Saint stars as Patton’s wife; Murray Hamilton plays his chief of staff. The film is directed by Delbert Mann.

“I don’t feel I’ll have to apologize for this production,” he said dryly. “I think it’s good; very good.”

When his role is finished next week, he will fly to Connecticut to prepare for his next project--directing a first play by novelist Steve Shagan for producers Marvin Krauss and Paul Heller.

“We start rehearsals right after Labor Day,” Scott said. “Then we try out in Baltimore before opening at the Broadhurst in New York. It’s a good play, but Steve is highly nervous. It’s understandable.”

He chuckled. “I may have to pack him off to the Bahamas to get rid of him.” Almost immediately after this, Scott directs a revival of “Arsenic and Old Lace” on Broadway.

“That’s what I love--directing,” he said. “I get such a kick out of it. There’s great satisfaction in getting a play just right. As you may know, I’m not a great believer in acting schools. I believe directing is teaching and you learn from your audience.

“As an actor, the last thing that really pleased me was ‘Present Laughter’ (Noel Coward’s play, in which Scott scored a considerable success three years ago). Before that, what? I suppose ‘Death of a Salesman’ in 1975. As far as films are concerned, I’d have to go way back for one I really liked--’Islands in the Stream,’ I suppose. I get sent lots of stuff, but most of it’s rubbish.

“I’ve been in this business for 35 years and sometimes I do wonder where it’s going. Maybe I’m too far over the hill to know what’s going on, but I still think I’ve got judgment and perhaps a little taste. And I do care about the business, despite my feelings about the Academy Awards and all that nonsense.”

(In 1971 he denounced the Oscars as a “meat parade” and said he wouldn’t accept if he won. He won and kept his word.)

He studied his drink for a moment.

“I have six children, you know, and I advised all of them to stay out of this business. As a profession, I wouldn’t recommend it to a dog, and I love dogs. Despite this, three of them are in it. And my daughter Devon, who just finished studying at the Central School here, has a small part in this picture.” A quick grin. “A little nepotism there, perhaps.”

Although Scott owns a house in Beverly Hills where his wife spends most of her time, he prefers to stay in Connecticut.

“Better people than I have lost their way in Los Angeles,” he said. “But Trish likes it there, and so we’re a continent apart. Me, I love Connecticut. I like the seasons.”

He has said so often now that he is weary of acting, that it has lost its savor--”Acting should carry a government warning,” he once remarked. “It can damage your psychological health”--that some now sense he has almost lost interest in it.

“I quit lying a long time ago,” he said. “And I won’t lie now. I enjoyed acting when I was young and on fire, when I felt there was nothing to stop me. I feel that no longer. But I keep on doing my best.”