Tale of 5 Singers: Townsend’s ‘American Story’

Warner Bros. wasn’t thrilled when Robert Townsend delivered the news that his new film “The Five Heartbeats” was going to mix drama with comedy. That 20th Century Fox stepped in when Warners backed out, the director admits, was undoubtedly an act of faith.

“I’d never been through this door before,” says the 34-year-old director, who also co-wrote, executive-produced and stars in the film, which opens today. “And studios are justifiably nervous when a comedian tries to get serious. History is full of horror stories about those that failed. But I’m still a baby creatively. I refuse to be put in a box. This wasn’t going to be ‘Hollywood Shuffle’ with music.”

Given the extraordinary success of Townsend’s 1987 film--a spoof of the plight of blacks in the entertainment industry--Warner’s desire for a clone (or at least a reasonable facsimile) is understandable. For Townsend’s $100,000 home movie ($60,000 of his own savings and $40,000 from the Samuel Goldwyn Co. to cover credit-card tabs for gasoline, paint and other supplies) ultimately grossed $10 million--and its creative financing became the stuff of Hollywood legend.

This time around, however, Townsend had something different in mind. “The Five Heartbeats,” he determined, would be a comedy of sorts. But the movie--the tale of five inner-city rhythm and blues singers grappling with big-time success--would also delve into such music business realities as payola and the pressure on black groups to “cross over” into mainstream America.

“The Dells informed me, backstage at the Wiltern,” Townsend recalls, “that a white couple appeared on their first album cover.”

Most of all, the director hoped, this film would present images rarely seen on screen: multifaceted human beings who happen to be black. “This film is an American story,” says Townsend. “With the exception of a couple of scenes, the story could have a ‘poor Irish’ bent--with Sean Penn playing the lead singer, Harry Dean Stanton playing his father, and Gary Oldman playing me.”

It was the dearth of meaningful parts, particularly for minorities, Townsend says, that kept him from accepting film offers in the wake of “Hollywood Shuffle.”

“I didn’t want to put my name on anything that would suggest to my audience that I was selling out,” he says. “Hollywood grinds out disposable movies geared for one good weekend before they die. As (Kevin) Costner showed us, if you want quality roles, you have to create them yourself.”

While his creative juices melded, Townsend kept busy directing Eddie Murphy’s concert film “Raw,” a $7-million, two-day venture that grossed $65 million; turning out four comedy specials for HB0, and donning a dreadlock wig in 1989’s “The Mighty Quinn,” a role he accepted in order to work with his pal Denzel Washington.

He also purchased the Hollywood Professional School--alma mater of such child stars as Sue Lyon and Tuesday Weld--which he is currently turning into a mini-studio. The 16,000-square-foot facility, dubbed Tinsel Townsend Studios, was bought and revamped at a cost of $2 million and will eventually include a 16-track recording studio and a 99-seat theater, as well as editing, prop and wardrobe facilities.

“I could have been in Malibu cooling it and kicking it, but I want the space to create with talented people and be crazy,” says Townsend, who has opted instead for a small three-bedroom home in the Hollywood Hills. “This place is a way of reinvesting in myself and in a business I believe in. It’s also a way of encouraging minority filmmakers. Sidney Poitier held the torch for the longest time. He was the first man to plant the seed that it could be done . . . and with class. We can’t let guys like him down.”

Townsend, one of the few black directors working in feature films, resists what he terms the “double standard.” “I don’t want to be competing in the ‘Special Olympics,’ ” he says. “Yet critics often bend over backwards when we’re concerned. Just because a black filmmaker crosses the finish line with a can of film under his arm, it’s no cause for praise. In fact, it’s often a case of the Emperor’s New Clothes. For that matter, I hate it when the work isn’t up to par and everyone screams ‘racism.’ ”

On the first day of filming, Townsend and the “Heartbeats” cast went to church to “bless” his $10-million film. Though the experience did prove easier than his “Hollywood Shuffle” days, this movie presented challenges of its own.

“We had permits this time, so didn’t have to look over our shoulders for the police,” Townsend says. “But try coming up with 5,000 extras for the 1972 scenes and 2,000 for those that took place in 1965--not one of whom could have a flat-top hairdo with ‘Nike’ etched in back of his head. The musical numbers also took an incredible amount of time, seven days a week to get down. I was the slowest picking up the dance steps . . . by far.”

Such headaches were mitigated, to some extent, by a happy development on the personal front: his marriage last September to former real estate agent Cheri Jones. The two are expecting their first child this September and plan to adopt two more within the next year-and-a-half.

“I was ready,” says Townsend. “I’d been going to dinners where everyone was coupled and having a hard time getting a date. People looked at me as a pork chop. I felt like a piece of meat. Going out with an actress was especially problematic. They’d step on my toes trying to get to the paparazzi .”

Yes, Townsend acknowledges, the characters he plays are basically mirror images of himself: passionate, committed, probably a little obsessed. And, he promises, there’s plenty more to come.

“Robert Townsend is just getting comfortable now,” he says with a smile. “I still have my shorts and shoes and socks on--and want to reveal more. I want to be an image-buster, putting things up there that I want to see. After seeing ‘Superfly,’ everyone wanted to get their hair ‘processed’ and I thought at the time: If movies can do that on a negative level, imagine what they could do if channeled positively.”