Sad news: one of the great people of New York and theater and Hollywood, June Springer, passed away last week. June was the wife of the late great legendary press agent John Springer. Their son, Gary, is one of the most popular press agents working in New York, a chip off the old block. June was 85, and had been living with one of her daughters in California. The Springers were just about the nicest people whoever graced New York showbiz. They were elegant and funny, and navigated the craziness around them with dignity. Of course, John had been Marilyn Monroe’s guy and had helped Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh get married. Whenever I see Clint Eastwood we always wind up talking about the Springers. An era is really over. Condolences to Gary and his whole family.

Here’s the obit Gary sent me about his mom:

JUNE REIMER SPRINGER, of New York City, died peacefully on September 27, 2013 in Chico, CA at the age of 85.  Born in 1928 in Hackensack, NJ to Alice and Rudolph Reimer, she grew up in Bogota NJ. June became a professional singer at 18, appearing in several musicals on Broadway (including “Kiss Me Kate” for which she recalled auditioning before Cole Porter; Sigmund Romberg’s “My Romance;” and “Three Wishes For Jamie,” among others); and on national tours including Romberg’s “The Student Prince”, in which she starred as the Princess. In the 1950s, under the stage name Monica Lane, June joined crooner Cass Franklin as a popular singing duo playing New York nightclubs such as The Latin Quarter, pioneer television variety shows such as The Colgate Comedy Hour, and Catskills resorts (Monica’s publicity pin-up became the source material for Roy Lichtenstein’s famous “Girl With Ball,” in NYC’s MoMA). In 1953, June married John Springer, whose career as a film and theater public relations agent became legend. With John, she enjoyed the glamour of the New York and international entertainment, arts and journalism worlds, but she was far more devoted to family: children Gary, Alicia, and Cynthia; grandchildren Nicholas and Olivia Springer, Zachary Gilman, and Anthony and Zora Thomas; and her sister Marilyn and family. Warm, funny, beautiful, and generous, June was beloved by loyal friends and family. A Memorial will be held later in October in New York City at the Players Club.

Sandra Bullock and George Clooney are really the only castmembers of Alfonso Cuaron’s sensational “Gravity.” Nevertheless, the red carpet for the premiere at the AMC Lincoln Square last night was longer than usual. And the movie started 45 minutes late at least. “There are only two people in this movie,” I said to a security guy on the red carpet. “Yeah,” he replied, “but look which two people.”

“Gravity,” as I wrote from Toronto, is some amazing technological achievement. It’s also a sharply written story about a female astronaut’s learning curve as she fights for her life in outer space. Clooney provides comic relief, Cary Grant-style. He also plays into a story twist that leaves a lump in every audience member’s throat.

The movie is so good, and the studio knows it, that Warner Bros. threw a swelegant soiree at the Museum of Natural History’s outdoor patio behind the planetarium. The weather cooperated, too– just warm enough to enjoy the last vestiges of summer turning to fall. To make up for a small cast, Peggy Siegal made sure a lot of famous folks were there to applaud Bullock and Clooney, including rocker and writer Patti Smith, directors Steven Soderbergh and Joel Coen, Tony nominee Richard Kind, Bob and Lynn Balaban, Patricia Clarkson, Dan Rather and wife Jean, Regis and Joy Philbin, Michael and Laurie Gelman, plus producer David Heyman and his dad, famed producer John Heyman with glamorous wife Nizzia.

If you don’t know, David Heyman produced all the “Harry Potter” movies. Alfonso Cuaron directed the best one, “The Prisoner of Azkaban.” So Heyman hooked up with him again for the stunning 3D “Gravity.” Cuaron made sure the audience felt for the characters, not were just consumed by the special effects.

Warners studio chief Kevin Tsujihara , marketing genius Sue Kroll and Time Warner chief Jeff Bewkes all seemed very happy with the results.

The party was the most relaxed and fun affair I can remember in Warners history. Bullock and Clooney had a ball, talking to everyone. Today (Wednesday) the press is having lunch with them.

“Don’t ask me how I made the movie, okay?” Bullock laughed. She’s one of the best people in Hollywood, you know. She’s been answering that question for weeks. Bullock’s hair is long, by the way, and cascaded down a gorgeous white gown.

“Okay,” I said. “How was craft services?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she cried. “I couldn’t eat anything. I was always tied up or in a space suit. I couldn’t go to the bathroom! I never had solid food. Liquids. A lot of milk shakes.”

“You were tied up?”

“In wires, for flying,” she said.

“You mean you don’t actually fly. All that weightlessness. There were wires?”

Bullock looked at me with a frown of sympathy. Is there no Santa Claus?  “Did I ruin it for you? I don’t actually fly.”

I am crestfallen. Who knew? More tomorrow…

Mia Farrow is on the war path. She’s gotten Maureen Orth to write a piece in Vanity Fair accusing Woody Allen of something–child molestation, anything to retaliate against him for romancing and marrying her adopted daughter Soon Yi in 1992. And for being wildly successful late in life.

Orth does what she can to accommodate Farrow, including painting her as the patron saint of handicapped adopted children and the savior of central Africa. In fact, Orth presents Farrow first as an angel, then turns to her mission of assassinating Allen once the reader is in.

Orth asks Farrow about Allen’s latest film, “Blue Jasmine.” Farrow responds that she doesn’t know what Orth is talking about. Right. The timing of the Orth article is no coincidence: it’s designed to smear Allen just as Oscar season begins. It’s hilarious and sad that after 21 years, Farrow still wields an ax for Allen.

If you do read this piece, and I’m sure you will, there’s a lot that Orth leaves out. Uncomfortable as it may make people today, Allen has been with Soon Yi without incident since 1992. They have two children. They are fairly public, also. They were featured in a documentary made by Barbara Kopple, and in a PBS documentary last year. They seem to be very happy, which makes Farrow probably even more agitated.

In the story, Mia Farrow tries to raise the idea that her son with Allen, Ronan Farrow, was fathered by Frank Sinatra. Ronan–then known as Satchel– was born in December 1987 the same week Allen’s movie, “September,” was released. Vanity Fair has juxtaposed pictures of Ronan and Sinatra opposite the article.

But as I wrote recently, there’s no denying Ronan is Allen’s kid. His Twitter account is filled with one liners that could only come from the mind of Woody Allen’s progeny. I don’t think Frank Sinatra was known for his sense of humor and adroit glibness.

There’s no doubt that Mia Farrow was deeply wounded by Woody Allen. So were her kids. But to carry on a vendetta into a third decade seems tacky and pointless. To suggest that he is guilty of things for which he was exonerated — with no real evidence and a lot of innuendo– is kind of pathetic at this point.

Meantime, I did run into Ronan Farrow a few weeks ago. He is obviously smart, talented, and good looking. After working for the State Department, and then serving as a Rhodes scholar at Oxford, he told me that he had a book contract (Orth says he’s writing a book). He also said he’d be joining a major publication soon (Vanity Fair, maybe?). His Twitter account shows a keen mind. But if he were smart, he’d go to Woody directly, and not let this story continue as a public spectacle.

PS I just got my November VF but I’ve already read James Wolcott’s piece on JFK, Lisa Robinson’s astute cover story on Jay Z, and the excerpt from Anjelica Huston’s terrific memoir. It’s quite an issue!