Tuned In

At a media screening of “Keeping the Faith” recently, stars Edward Norton and Ben Stiller were shown walking down the street when suddenly they had to make way for a bum on a bicycle who says in a fluttery voice, “Hello, young sir!”

This throwaway scene elicited the following boisterous response from the jaded journalists seated in the audience: “Radioman!”

Radioman: His legend looms large on the movie and TV sets of New York. He’s the idiot savant of New York film production--he knows where the sets are, where the premieres and parties are, where the press junkets are, where the stars are staying. And he seems to be at all of these venues at once. He’s missing a few front teeth, and grubby looking, indistinguishable from the homeless people who roam New York’s streets, and yet he’s tolerated, if not embraced, by some of Hollywood’s biggest stars.

There is hardly a member of New York’s filmmaking community, on any level, who doesn’t know who he is. He may not be an institution, but his presence is somehow perversely reassuring, like sirens and gridlock.

Today he arrives at a municipal building in Lower Manhattan where the television show “Now and Again” is filming. They’re shooting on the fifth floor, and somehow Radioman has contrived to secure a production pass. Unfortunately, to enter the building visitors must go through metal detectors, and Radioman not only has his beloved green Schwinn bike (given to him by Whoopi Goldberg) but a boom box and chain lock hanging around his neck, a messenger bag and a shopping bag full of albums. He would have to disassemble himself just to get through.

Radioman Encounters His Pal Sting

Frustrated, he issues a stream of expletives and then decides to ride his bike up to Madison Square Garden. Once there, he settles in for a long wait in the raw April weather. “This is the VH1 Men’s Fashion Awards,” he says in the pell-mell manner he adopts when imparting information. “It starts tomorrow. This is just a rehearsal. Julio Iglesias’ son is going to be here, D’Angelo, Backstreet Boys, a lot of people.”

One of these people is his pal Sting, who suddenly appears out of nowhere. Radioman, almost beside himself, quickly hauls out a stack of old LPs and hails him. Sting breaks away from his entourage and patiently signs them, complaining about the weather, then moves off to the employee entrance. The signed LPs can sell for as much as $100; Sting signed seven of them.

“I tell you, we beat the odds, because everybody came before these guys [the road crews] even set up,” Radioman says, beaming. “So I scored from Mr. Sting. And don’t forget, I’ve been invited to the Rainforest benefit at Carnegie Hall, as I am every year, and I think the party is either at Ciprianis or Le Cirque. And tonight there’s something for VH1 also, a big preparty at Saatchi’s. Matthew McConaughey is supposed to be there.”

There’s also the premiere of “American Psycho” (which stars his “good friend” Christian Bale and features Radioman in a bit part) and then a party afterward at Lot 61, on 21st Street and 10th Avenue. Radioman hauls out a cell phone and informs his boss, Mead Chasky, about his Sting score. Chasky employs Radioman to secure autographs, although Radioman, a collector in his own right, keeps a few for himself. Information, on the other hand, he dispenses freely, and obviously receives much in return.

“Hey, Aqua-lung!” one of the roadies says, passing by.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Radioman says, then adds, “It’s now Radioman. No more Aqua-lung.”

Radioman, 49, used to be called Aqua-lung because he resembles the character in the Jethro Tull ‘70s song (“ . . . Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes/Hey, Aqua-lung”). Radioman has also been called Dr. Smith, after the fey, cowardly scientist on the old “Lost in Space” TV show (“You blithering idiot,” Radioman says, mimicking him. “You babbling booby”).

He got his current moniker because of the boom box slung around his neck, to prevent it from being stolen. Today it is wrapped in plastic because of the wet weather. The tape inside is a recording of a David Letterman show featuring Radioman’s “good friend” Robin Williams.

Radioman’s real name is Craig Schwartz. He was born and raised in Brooklyn. His first brush with show business was when he worked as a messenger for Universal Pictures. Then he entered the service and was sent to Vietnam, an experience he’d rather not talk about. When he returned he worked the graveyard shift at the General Post Office but quit because he didn’t like the hours. He lived with his parents, married and fathered a couple of children (they now live in Florida), sold newspapers near Penn Station for 20 years. He also spent time on welfare and on the streets and drank too much beer, though he’s been sober for four years.

He says his first real encounter on a set occurred eight or nine years ago when he was selling newspapers and the makers of the TV show “The Equalizer” asked him to move his newsstand so they could set up a shot. Radioman told them he didn’t want to move.

A passing roadie shouts out, “All right, Radio!” “What’s up?” Radioman says, then continues with his story: “One of the guys goes to me, ‘I’ll tell you what, we’ll give you a few dollars, just move a few feet away.’ ‘No, no, no, this is my spot, I have to stay right where I am.’ So they put me in the shot.”

Radioman decided he liked show business. At the same time, the guy who owned his newsstand was retiring, so he decided to make hanging around sets his new gig. A year or two later, he got into autographs. The money he makes from selling these, along with his VA benefits--not to mention food cadged from catering trucks--allows him to pay the rent on a Brooklyn apartment passed on to him by his deceased mother.

“I got to know what this business is about,” Radioman says. “I got to meet the Teamsters, because they’re the ones who are really down-to-earth people as far as the crews and the production assistants and all that.”

He says he gets his information about set locations from the traffic cops who block off prospective film sites. He reads the notices productions post before taking over a building or street. Sometimes he simply runs into film sets on his bike, which he rides in from Brooklyn, across the 59th Street Bridge; he rides his bike no matter what the weather.

The list of people who’ve given him the time of day is, in his words, endless. Robin Williams (who recently gave him a bike helmet). Whoopi Goldberg. George Clooney. Julia Roberts. Drew Barrymore. Meg Ryan. Ron Howard. Sylvester Stallone. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Michael Keaton. Melanie Griffith and Antonio Banderas. Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick. Hilary Swank. Jack Nicholson. . . .

Not All Stars Love Him

There are, however, a few exceptions, people who just don’t get him. “One guy who didn’t particularly take a shine to me was Mel Gibson,” Radioman says. “I asked him for an autograph, and I got all kinds of slack from him and his bodyguards. He thought I was psychotic.”

Another filmmaker who he says is afraid of him is Woody Allen, which is why Radioman has never appeared in an Allen film even though they’re always shot in New York. He’s shown up in such movies as “Bringing Out the Dead,” “Deep Impact” and “Joe Gould’s Secret.” Legend has it--a legend fostered by Radioman--that Williams modeled his character in “The Fisher King” after him. (He does sound an awful lot like Williams when he’s in his Radioman mode.)

Radioman is a member of the Screen Actors Guild. He has his own Web site (at http//:www.radiomanthecollector.com) and a documentary devoted to him (“Radioman--The Collector,” directed by Pipo Maypo). Radioman says he prefers to work infrequently because he likes to be able to run around town and schmooze. He’s so good at it that his boss flew him to L.A. during Oscar week so that he could work the Independent Spirit Awards and the after-Oscars parties. (According to Radioman, Schwarzenegger remarked, upon encountering him at one of the parties, “Radioman, it’s like a miracle, you’re everywhere, now you’re in L.A. Ha, ha, ha.”)

Which brings up the question of why the stars put up with this guy. Clearly, some of them find his chutzpah amusing. Others like his gossip. On the other hand, one of his rivals in the collecting business says that stars like to make themselves feel better by cozying up to what appears to be a homeless person.

When asked about this, Radioman says, “Maybe yes, maybe no. I don’t know. I just know that when I’m around, they seem to go gaga.”