I met director Brett Ratner in the late 1990s when he hired Lalo Schifrin to score his early films, and I went to the scoring sessions.
I dimly remember this anecdote, and I think I am getting it right.
At some point, as a young man, Brett was calling somebody’s house looking for somebody. The person who answered said casually, “It’s Mahhlllllslss.”
This story loses a bit in writing. I’m trying my best here.
Brett didn’t understand him. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
“It’s Mahhhlllslssslss.”
Brett was flummoxed. This might have gone back or forth another time or two: “I’m so sorry, I just—I can’t understand you. Who is this, please?”
“IT’S MILES DAVIS, MOTHERFUCKER!”
That’s the story. Enjoy.
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