#sergey lorenzo ivanov gargiulo

[just-here-for-the-moment]

So this is WEIRD... I was doing newspaper archive research for an entirely different project, and I stumbled upon this 1979 article about some of the problems on set of Goncharov.

I haven't been able to find anything else in the archives about this Sergey Gargiulo guy, I don't know what happened after this article, and despite mutiple in-depth searches, I can't find any obituary or anything for him from 1979 to 2010. He would have turned 100 in 2011, so there's no way he lived much longer than that, right?

The other thing is that I've looked and looked, but no one else has mentioned this kind of thing happening on the set. It appears that this guy was the only one who had these kinds of complaints? Was he silenced after this? Did anyone else speak up?

I've uploaded the text of the full article below. Sergey Gargiulo said that the only person he trusts in all of Hollywood is Lynda Carter @reallyndacarter and that if you want to know the truth about Goncharov, she's the only person he trusted.

Anyone else think this is just odd?

Full text of article:

Consultant breaks silence over problems on set of “Goncharov”

April 29, 1979

By Jolene Irsca, Staff Reporter

Brooklyn, NY - Sergey Lorenzo Ivanov Gargiulo sprawls in a cracked, olive-green leatherette recliner in his Brighton Beach home and lights his fifth White Owl cigar of the day.  His wheezing laughter, exuberant and joyful over the sounds of the game show on his television set, is a stark contrast to the grave subject matter that he has invited me here to discuss.  

As the sixth anniversary of the film “Goncharov” (1973) approaches, Gargiulo feels that it is finally time to tell his story.  His own clock may be running out, says Gargiulo, after he received a diagnosis of esophageal cancer last autumn.  Despite the seriousness of the illness, Gargiulo, who is turning 68 next week, doubts the veracity of the one-year timeline that his doctors have given him.

“The doctors don’t know what the f— they’re talking about, the f—ing morons,” Gargiulo spits around the cigar bitten between his bright white teeth.  “I’m still gonna be alive in forty f—ing years… but it does make you think.  It makes you think.”

Gargiulo’s haste, he says, stems from the urge to seek justice and right severe wrongs, a moral code that seems highly ironic, coming as it does from a man who describes himself as a “Russian-Italian thug, a cazzato svolach from way back,” as he so colorfully puts it.  

“[Martin] Scorsese knows what happened,” Gargiulo rumbles in his deep,  Brooklyn-by-way-of-Odesa-with-a-semester-abroad-in-Naples accent.  “That motherf—er knows exactly what happened.  And he knows that I know he knows, and I’m not gonna let that figlio de puttana, that suka blyat stronzo motherf—er off the hook.”

So what, in Gargiulo’s opinion, actually happened?

In order to answer that question, we must travel back to Naples, Italy to August of 1972, when “Goncharov” began filming in the San Giovanni a Teduccio neighborhood.  

Because of his unique Russian-Italian background, Gargiulo was hired as a cultural consultant on the set of the film, directed by fresh auteur Scorsese.  “Goncharov” was just Scorsese’s third full-length feature film (shot between “Boxcar Bertha” and his critically acclaimed “Mean Streets”), and written by Matteo JWHJ 0715, who is widely regarded as a genius for his award-winning body of work since 1967, including three consecutive Academy Awards for Best Screenplay, and two Best Screenplay awards at the Cannes Film Festival.�� (A notorious recluse who refuses to grant interviews or even show up to accept awards, Matteo JWHJ 0715 declined our request to be interviewed for this article.)

Gargiulo’s expertise in bridging the hardened worlds of the Neapolitan Camorra and the Russian Bratva, combined with his culinary skills (Gargiulo opened the Michelin-starred restaurant Risotto e Rassolnik in Naples in 1960, and has won acclaim for such Russo-Italian fusion dishes as polpi alla luciana pelmeni and pizza kholodets) meant that he was uniquely positioned to advise Scorsese on the intricacies of “Goncharov,” the sprawling saga of a Russian-born discotheque owner (played by Robert de Niro) who travels to Naples and becomes embroiled in mafia activity.

The offer of a cushy consultancy, and the opportunity to have a hand in the creation of the film hooked Gargiulo right away.  He also hoped that the film would heighten visibility and positive representation for vorami v zakone and mafiosi alike, and show the world that there was more to those groups than just organized crime.

“I was getting a little worn down, I’m getting older, and I thought taking a short break from the restaurant grind might be a nice little vacanza, you know? Plus when I met with Scorsese, he was very complimentary, very professional.  I was expecting a well-run production.”

But when he arrived on set, Gargiulo says, he was taken aback at the lack of safety measures, including the fact that Scorsese allowed actual Italian and Russian gang members to portray minor characters and to interact with the Hollywood stars freely both on-set and off.

“You can’t have those guys, those prestupniki mixing with the f—ing actors, you know? I mean, you can’t mix good guys with hard motherf—ers like that.  They cannot be trusted.”

I ask Gargiulo to elaborate.

“I saw minchiata like you wouldn’t believe.  Near the start of the shoot, John [Cazale] and this Russian guy, this big motherf—er from the Kapotnya district in Moscow, Alexei, they were rehearsing the ice pick stabbing scene.  And John refused to use the stunt icepick, he wanted to use a real one.”

Upon seeing the look of shock on my face, Gargiulo nods at me, his eyes wide.  “You heard me.  I told Scorsese not to let John do that, but he said there was no way John could hurt the guy, that they were gonna film it from a certain angle so that it only looked like John was stabbing Alexei.  And then what do you know? We had to call the cazzo emergency services because Alexei almost lost his eye for real.”

Gargiulo shakes his head in disbelief.  “He was a sniper for the Bratva, a real up-and-comer.  Alexei almost lost his livelihood over John’s negligence… coglione, kozyol.”

When asked to provide additional examples of issues on the set of “Goncharov,” tears come to Gargiulo’s eyes, and he has to take a few moments to collect himself before continuing.  

“One day, right after we broke for the afternoon, I caught Cybill Shepherd teaching two of the little Napolitano guys how to stab someone in the lungs from behind so they couldn’t scream.  I saw red, I’m telling you.  Those guys were innocent little ragazzi, little foot soldiers.  All they knew how to do was run drugs and pickpocket, and here she was corrupting the f— outta them.  I reported that to Scorsese right away.  But…” Gargiulo trails off, and I prompt him to continue when he’s ready.  

“Scorsese said it wasn’t a problem,” Gargiulo growls, wiping his eyes.  “He said that I misunderstood, or that she was just rehearsing with them… but she didn’t have a scene like that in the movie, so what the f— was she doing? Ty che, blyad, you know?”

Gargiulo says that these two incidents (along with four mysterious crew deaths, accusations of embezzlement, Robert de Niro’s refusal to break character for the entire five-month shoot, and rumors of Scorsese’s crippling gelato addiction) paint a picture of a production that was out of control from the beginning.  

“We deserve answers,” says Gargiulo.  “Those of us who were harmed, those of us in the Russian and Italian mobster communities who were injured at the hands of those hardened Hollywood f—ers, we deserve some justice.  The whole shoot was a f—ing razvaluha from the very beginning.  Those movie guys should never have been allowed to step foot in Naples, piz’duk bastardi.”

When asked if anyone can back up his claims, Gargiulo smiles, looking peaceful for the first time since I stepped foot into his home.  

“There’s only one person I would trust in all of Hollywood, one perfetta, dorogoy, immacolata cherub in the whole entire production who knows what the hell went down.  You want to know what really happened? Ask Lynda Carter.”

And with that, Gargiulo excuses himself for his afternoon nap, and ushers me out the door.  

***

Mr.  Gargiulo declined to be photographed for this article, citing privacy concerns.