LatinosUSA

Big little story…

Nikon selfie with photo-roll poster of actor Gregory Millar, taken in a rather fancy Hollywood/Franklin Hills shack owned by a curious 5’3” (1.6m) actress. The year was 2005, the season was winter.

Decades ago, for sure…so in 2026, if you find a profile pic of mine where I’m wearin’ a fluffy toque in the snow…that’s today, eh.

On to Lovely Greg.

Gregory (as he preferred, mostly) was a fairly well-recognized actor of stage and screen. You might remember his work with Dick Donner (RIP) as Tyrone from LETHAL WEAPON 3…or maybe his days on the Knott’s Landing show, or Quantum Leap with Dean Stockwell (RIP) and Star Trek’s Scott Bakula (both ultra-cool guys), or maybe even ER (hey, Uncle George!) when Greg played Mr. Smiley.

Greg was über-flamboyant, a gay Black man with zero fear and no social hiding whatsoever. His life was colorful, full of stories. He spent his time living in Europe when possible, but hung out primarily in legendary West Hollywood. Many parties and social gatherings happened in his sweet condo, some of them pretty wacky.

I met Greg in late 1992, which happened to be my 10th anniversary in the trenches with the gay community. I learned a great deal from Greg about all kinds of things. He used to sometimes sneak huge kisses on my neck from behind, and then declare, “God, I love hairy men!” sometimes followed with, “I’d let you sleep in bed with me, of course,” to which I would say, “Yeah, had a feeling you’d say that, sugar.” Hah! About then, he would sneer like Lee Van Cleef…because he knew I was bullshitting, but he loved it anyway.

Greg and I worked together in 1990 on a Dick Wolf show called Nasty Boys (before Wolf created Law & Order, of course). We mostly shot in Vegas, but it wasn’t until 1994 at a dinner when we both had revelations: we did the same damned TV show together in 1990, sat in the same green rooms…and neither remembered in ‘94 until we each dropped two Chopin martinis, with a twist.

Strange but funny.

Greg and I would often hang outside at various bars or on his own balcony, day or night. We talked about things strongly artistic, past eras, philosophies of homo sapiens, cool people walking by…lots of stuff. Over jasmine tea, sometimes. Maybe a silly liqueur.

I didn’t shoot the excellent poster of Greg in the parking lot, by the way, nor did I print it. Weirdly, when I finally abandoned the afore-mentioned 5’3” brunette actress’ domestic panorama of downtown LA, I left three of the rolled Greg images and never went back to collect. Kept saying I would, but the 20-year mark approaches just now, so…

Greg contracted AIDS, the advanced state of HIV, right at the tip of the spear. Around 1982, actually. He lived with it for 21 years, often on the cutting edge of research and cure trials. He was a very decent actor in NYC and LA, both stage and screen. While AIDS knocked him down time after time, he endured. And maintained.

Acting was really the most important thing in his life. He was quite serious about the craft. Inspirational, for sure. Lots of time in LA theatres, some via Equity.

Have to admit, Greg occasionally chased me down. Hilarious, most especially because Greg knew I was straight as a CERN beam, but also that I was 100% fine with “the other team” as he’d say. He knew my history.

One time we were having a snack somewhere on a Beverly Hills terrace, when he started staring my way with his Lee Van Cleef thing and said, “Are we ever gonna make love?” I laughed and replied, “Hey, you never know.” Again, he sneered. And laughed himself.

To finish (I could easily write more), Greg’s death was both profound and beautiful. He knew from 1982-ish that his days were going quickly, but his attitude preserved him 21 years on. Kind of incredible, really.

Greg’s funeral was sorta like going to a wrap party: tons of iconic music, food, waves of fascinating friends (gay and straight) from all walks of life. Greg insisted people dress very well for the affair…so everyone did. And by well, he meant ferocious.

I think you get it.

Oh, wait! Gotta do this. Wow.

Ice Planet, the 2001 TV show, was a Canadian-German production starring Wes Studi and Reiner Schöne. It was Greg’s second-to-last credit playing Charles Elchanan Nickels.

Here’s the tale:

One day, I went to Greg’s condo when he was doing some kind of graphics work with the super-talented Margo Chase, RIP (see the Coppola/Gary Oldman DRACULA for details). Greg had some font he wanted me to see and discuss.

But he wouldn’t answer his door when I arrived. I was quite disturbed…til I heard him yell, “Oh, just come in!” He was doing some sort of AIDS first-user treatment, and it made him very ill. I waited for him in the living room until he finally returned in a fabulous Liberace robe and slippers, looking ghastly. He collapsed on his Italian leather recliner, exhausted.

Though Greg always kept his panache, it was now the worst I’d ever seen him. He was shedding tears, but refused to show it. He saw mine, no question.

I asked if he felt up to taking a job. He said he would love to act right now, especially on TV. I thought about it and placed a call, telling a friend at the time about the situation. I’d sure as hell love it if he could get Greg a gig.

Well, it happened, and rather quickly. Greg was given a supporting lead on a pilot being shot in Austria, close to Germany. That was Ice Planet.

I knew nothing about it, just that the money was nice for Greg and he dug Germany anyway, especially the books (loved Taschen), so Austria was a double-win.

Greg got steady on his AIDS medicines, and off he went. I was elated and content beyond belief that Ice Planet worked for him. He sent e-mails from his BlessedGEM account every so often, thanking both my associate and me at the time for giving him the best working vacation he’d ever had. All around Austria and Germany, Greg went when able, seeing old friends and new professional pals, wandering forests, etc. And he found a cool woolen flap hat in Salzburg(?) that he wore all over the place. God, I was happy for him. Felt great, and it was looking like he might stabilize even farther on the new AIDS thing.

Greg returned to the US, glowing and feeling wonderful. However, it was over: from 2001 to 2003, Greg became critically ill in a tremendous way. Time quickly dissolved, as did parts of his skin.

Greg sadly left the galaxy in February 2003, having passed away in a hospital pretty harshly. His death was…shocking. In his memory, I duplicated what he went through for a major scene in XXXXXX. Even thinking of it now…quite hard.

And there it is.

RIP, dear Greg. So many memories from the fine and deeply layered man you were. You’re often missed, often considered…

And still occasionally seen on Netflix and cable! Sometimes late at night, you could swear he was peeking from the screen between scenes, looking out the window for a delicious passerby.

Or two.