Life Beyond the Credits
Date Published: 09-09-2025
Publisher: Punctuate Press
of production Polaroids and behind-scenes photos she took, Bonnie decided it
was time to tell some lovely stories about her time in Hollywood.
Continuity By Bonnie Clevering: Life Behind the Credits will be released on
Punctuate Press (distributed by APG) on September 9. It will uniquely come in
two formats: a paperback memoir, and a beautiful hardcover coffee table book
with hundreds of photos. While stories about Nancy Sinatra’s old wives
tale helping Bonnie get pregnant, making dinner for the Ocean’s Eleven
cast, and how hair creates character are certainly delightful, Bonnie also
shares deeply about being a woman in Hollywood, the consequences of saying
“no” (and “yes”), single motherhood, and legacy.
EXCERPT
MEMOIR PGS 88-94
Like most of us, I remember the first movie I ever saw. At the Paramount Theater in Aurora, Illinois, I sat watching House of Wax. The ornate ceiling and the oversized,
cushioned seats that had comforted me as the red velvet drapes parted and the lights dimmed now hovered over me in horror as my screams surpassed those of Phyllis
Kirk as she tried to escape Vincent Price lingering at every corner. With each of my worst fears projected bigger than life in front of my very eyes, the fingers on my left hand
became more impervious to the ice-cold soda as my right crushed a box of my favorite candy, Good ‘N Plenty. My feet swung back and forth restlessly, a groundless sprint, until
the symphonic soundtrack subsided with another slender escape from the hall of mirrors, my heart rate returning to a normal pace and lips widely smiling with the recess of adrenaline, my mouth a cornucopia of concession stand flavors. Sitting in the darkened, crowded theater, I looked around at the dimly lit faces of those around me, staring in their own ways at the shimmering screen. Some were quizzical, others confused; the lady next to me had nearly chewed her monogrammed handkerchief to shreds while a man in the row behind me slept, grumbling softly as he watched an entirely different series of events unfold in his slumber. I realized in that matinee that everyone seated there was experiencing something different; even though the same actors spoke the same lines, each person was affected differently. Movies have had that effect throughout history, rallying citizens behind wars, defining political movements, empowering the impoverished, and aiding the baby boomers in leaving their mark on the planet’s population through romantic comedies shown at drive-ins, watched in bits and pieces from the backseat of a ‘57 Chevy.
This power of movies to elicit emotions and raise awareness was a concept I grasped early on in life, and only now do I realize what an impact I have been able to have
with the work I have done, along with the countless other crew members of movies we have made together. Choosing to make a particular film is an absolute responsibility and
liability. And with this ability to rattle emotions and alter perceptions, simplicity is often the best recipe for success in Hollywood and life. In life, as in a screenplay, the more
complicated things are, the greater the chance of failure.
The first set I ever walked onto was the TV series Green Acres back in 1965. The General Services Studios on Las Palmas Drive wasn’t the biggest of production lots or the fanciest, but it was my first. As usual, the first of something in life seemed like nothing could be better, and I always remembered it as my first studio experience. I went
to the hair and makeup room and unpacked my styling kit, which consisted of various sized hair irons, a small hair iron heater stove, bobby pins, a brush, and a comb. The
meticulous rearranging of my styling tools was a front for the nervousness that had me digging my heels into the wood floor. Then Eva Gabor walked into the room and sat
down in a chair. For the next hour, I must have silently said the Rosary a hundred times, and somehow, through a blur of combing and ironing, I molded her blonde locks into a
mountain of a beehive ready for the camera. Eva confidently rose, took one last look in the mirror, and walked to set as I gathered a brush, hairspray bottle, and a few more bobby pins on my way out the door.
Stepping onto the set was similar to walking through the rainforest without a machete. There was a madness to the order of setting up for the first shot of the day, and
it was not all that far away from a pack of primates just released from captivity. People ran around jumping over Styrofoam boulders and climbing ladders that disappeared
into the darkness beyond, where others were frantically running across catwalks swaying from chains attached to the ceiling. Cables uncoiled and slithered, dull black endless serpents, around a makeshift train depot and off through a small gathering of Papier-mâché oak trees on the far side of the stage. Enormous lights perched atop shiny silver stands, a forest of metal, electricity, and illumination that required an adventure guide to navigate safely to my destination, a tall set chair with my actress’ name in bold white letters on the backrest. And there I stood alone, with heavy and immovable feet, terrified to take my first step into the wilds of Hollywood.
Trying not to faint on my first day, motionless, I held my eyes shut for a few seconds and took in the sounds around me. Set builders were hammering like the men who had repaired my parent’s grocery store after a fire when I was a child. People’s voices were a memory of shouting at the butcher counter, trying to buy a roast the night before Christmas. Footsteps shuffling and stopping hurriedly reminded me of a Sears and Roebuck, knowing where to find the latest fashion but stopping to look in the mirror and check a lip line before reaching the dressing room. This environment was both prehistoric and futuristic to the eyes, but to the senses, it was familiar, filled with
recollections of people and places I had seen and survived before. My breathing became even, and I slowly opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings, which weren’t so scary
anymore. My hands no longer shook, and my feet were solid and sturdy. I walked through the maze of light stands and electrical wires, put down my bag, and began to make the final touches to Eva’s hairstyle.
A few minutes later, I cleared my voice with a few precise
pushes of hairpins in the right location and confidently said,
“Ms. Gabor, you’re ready for set.”
About the Author
Bonnie Clevering, in a nearly 5-decade career as a Motion Picture Hair
Stylist, has trussed the tresses of hundreds of actors including Hilary Swank,
Bette Davis, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, Al Pacino, Keanu Reeves, and Kristen
Stewart. Her impressive resume includes iconic films and TV series like Hello,
Dolly!, RoboCop, Any Given Sunday, Ocean’s Eleven, Erin Brockovich, Office
Space, The Twilight Saga, and Mr. & Mrs. Smith, totaling over 120
productions. She earned membership in the Academy of Motion Picture Arts &
Sciences in 2001.
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