Screw Stevie Dash and his son-of-Hitler movie. With one semester left to graduate, Harry had his own role lined up to launch his career:

The McGill Theater Department's annual major production, a three-night run of the Samuel Beckett classic, Waiting For Godot. Harry nabbed one of two leads as Estragon. The only downside, his co-star playing the part of Vladimir was Hazen Bones, a gap-toothed dilettante who rehearsed in leotards and annoyed Harry to no end. But that was theater.

Stars were born at the vaunted McGill theater production. The stuff of legends was created on that stage. Take Lionel Wolfe, the program's most famous alumni, who went on to strike fame and fortune as Captain Merkel on the cult TV series, Space Cadets. He showcased his remarkable range by playing Lady Macbeth in an experimental transgender version of Macbeth. Phil Ferns, the fey head of CBC TV drama was in the audience opening night and was qq  smitten with Lionel's campy performance. The pay-off: Lionel Wolfe's first television appearance as Spuds McGee in the acclaimed CBC mini-series, The Potato Farmer.

Opening night of Waiting For Godot was a celebrated tour de force. Montreal Gazette theatre critic Gaston Bumstead wrote that Harry's performance as Estragon was, "Mesmerizing, spell-binding, the virtual embodiment of alienation and unarticulated angst that defines the futility of our existence." Second night met with more critical raves. Syd Sheinhart, the chatty entertainment critic of The Suburban wrote, "Harry Starr's haunting performance as Estragon kept me up all night thinking...Of course it also could have been the post-show nosh of pickled brisket at  Delly Boys, but oy! this Harry Starr with his sheine punim is the next Lionel Wolfe!! p.s. Just between us: thesp Lionel's mother, Doris, was my prom date way back when. And whst a kisser, what a gal!"

Serendipitous forces were busy working for Harry during the last performance of Godot. Sitting in the audience eating a Schwartz's smoked meat sandwich was the legendary New York talent agent, Manny Bloom, a living legend who discovered the Oscar-winning Justin Guffman and scores of other working actors.

Manny Bloom wasn't there just by chance. Personal matters led him to hightail it out of New York and seek refuge with his old friend, Professor Morris Dorfman, head of the McGill theater department and director of the play. 

Manny was hoping that a little amateur theater would lighten his spirits. He was going through a depression after barely surviving a bitter divorce from his ex-wife, Tessie Baker the Tennessee Terror, a shrewish foot model he discovered who rose to the top of her field in the corn and bunion market. Tessie not only cleaned Manny out of his life savings, she also dragged his good name through the mud by spreading vicious rumors that completely true:

That Manny participated in a bogus invoicing scheme.

That Manny could only make love to her if she would dress up as a sports mascot.

That Manny had been carrying on a decades-long affair with the first client he ever signed, and one of the few to stay with him, New York's great balloon-folding artist, Minerva Foss.

At least Manny's woes worked out well for Harry. Professor Dorfman, a huge fan of Harry, told Manny, "The kid reminds me of a young unpolished Cary Grant, but because he personifies the quintessential outsider. Harry Starr isn't just a gorgeous hunk, but he that  je ne dais quois. After you see the show, I want you to consider signing him on as a client."

"And I could use a new client. Ray Beno just left me for William Morris after he was offered  The Tonight Show. Now the guy has the chutzpah to tell me that he'll cut me in for a taste. And to think that when I discovered that putz he was lucky to get a gig doing a bar mitzvah."

Yes, Manny Bloom could scout talent better than anyone else in the business. And his devotion to his clients was legendary. He'd do everything for them from picking up their clothes at the cleaners to spotting them money when they were broke. The problem was that Manny was too much of a mensch. After he'd sign a client and set their careers in motion, they'd fire him and switch to a high-profile agent. The man was simply not cut out for such a cutthroat business like talent management.

Manny sat in the audience transfixed with Harry's performance, exchanging many affirming nods with Professor Dorfman. Until the Estragon chicken bone scene. Harry had to suck on some chicken bones. But while sucking on them, a bone accidentally slipped out of his fingers and lodged into the back of his throat, causing him to choke on stage.

Fortunately there was a doctor in the audience who ran up on stage and saved Harry from choking to death. Unfortunately, Harry punctured his larynx and could not finish his performance.

Fortunately Manny Bloom, a world class choke in his own right, could look beyond the stage disaster. He was convinced that Harry was a talent.

"The kid's got it," he confided to  Dorfman over s steak dinner at Moishe's. "Providing he recovers fully from the mishap. I'm ready to get him auditions on Broadway. There's a couple of productions coming up where he could have a shot at."

A couple months later when Harry fully recovered, Manny schlepped him around New York for auditions:

Sim Neilson's, Hello Babe, It's Him. Sim Neilson, the Tony-winning playwright handed Harry the script, patted him on the back and wished him good luck. Harry strode on stage, cracked some knuckles, cleared his throat and took a deep breath. But when he opened his mouth to read, his throat constricted and he gagged. A glass of water, a dozen deep breaths later and the same result.

"Sorry, Manny," Sim said.

"Todd and Carol" with Shelley Winters as Carol. Repeat performance by Harry.

"O Bombay! "Maybe getting him on stage buck naked will do the trick?" Manny surmised to no avail.

End result: Manny doesn't sign Harry.

"You can always call me up kid, when you get your stage voice back. Don't sweat it, we all go through this kind of crap."

"..," Harry gagged.