Kathleen Kennedy needed a favor. She asked if I would design two 1941 T-shirts — one featuring John Belushi, the other sporting the image of Dan Aykroyd. They should look like 1941-style cartoonish bomber nose art. She needed them pretty quickly to both promote the film and to make some ancillary money. I had actually been working on a 1941 movie poster on the side for my best and most often movie poster employer, art director Tony Seiniger (it never got past the pencil stage), so I had plenty of Aykroyd and Belushi photo reference.
I dropped everything I was doing after-Conan-hours and came up with two designs.
They were sent over to Aykroyd and Belushi for their approval.
The designs came back with loads of notes. From the nature of the notes, it looked like they had been written by Aykroyd.
I fulfilled all of the requested changes. What began as a quick favor, though, was suddenly turning into a real pain-in-the-ass tar baby job. My shirt subjects (or at least one of them) were acting like real dicks.
We went back and forth a few times, each pass resulting in more changes — even though I had fulfilled the requested changes, each time doing exactly what had been requested.
(Picture this with the lettering from the first Belushi design added)
Under Aykroyd’s instructions, the caricatures got more and more realistic. I guess he didn’t get the WWII cartoon nose art part of the concept.
I finally decided to cut to the chase — I wrote to Aykroyd directly.
You’d have thought I’d shot the Pope. The shit storm caused by my directly contacting Dan was unbelievable. I had broken one of the Unwritten Rules of Hollywood: violating the Chain of Command. Hollywood can be so full of itself at times. One of the honest questions I had asked Dan was, “Do you even want a 1941 T-shirt with your image? If not, please — just tell me and I’ll happily drop this whole thing.”
It turned out, of course, that the two Saturday Night Live comics indeed never wanted themselves on 1941 T-shirts. All that work on my part was for nothing; another job chalked up to the adage “No good deed goes unpunished”.
This (and a few other things, like the nasty way he treated Robin Williams in front of me) so soured me on Aykroyd that I have turned down all offers since then to work with him. I realize that Dan didn’t actually have it in for me — he wanted to stick it to Spielberg and Steven’s close 1941 circle. I was just the Spielberg representative. But still…
For my efforts on her behalf, Kathy presented me with a big bottle of Dom Perignon champagne. My new wife, family, minister and I consumed it following my wedding in Maui in 1982.