The Third Draft

Just a quick note to let you know about Ballerina, a wonderful documentary film that's just opened in Paris directed by my friend Bertrand Normand. The film goes behind the scenes of the Mariinski Theater, and follows the stories of five of its ballerinas--each talented, each unique, each magical. If you love ballet, you'll love this film. And if you've always wondered what all the fuss was about--watch and understand. In French, no subtitles.

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Now Playing:
Reflet Medicis: 3, rue Champollion, 75005 Paris (Métro Odéon) every day at 2:00 PM

L'Entrepôt: 7-9 rue Francis de Pressensé, 75014 Paris (Métro Pernety) every day at 6:00 PM

Okay, I bit. I saw Snakes on a Plane. With a title that tongue-in-cheek, how could I not? I went in expecting - well, snakes on a plane. And that's exactly what I got, which is a lot more than I can say for many other, loftier movies that don't deliver on their promises.

Now, normally this isn't my kind of movie.  I'm a girl, I'm not in the 18-24 demographic, and although I love Samuel Jackson, I don't see any old movie just because he's in it. But as a screenwriter living in a high-concept world, let's just say I felt compelled.

As it turns out, I had a great time. The movie was entertaining, funny, kept up the tension throughout, and Samuel Jackson's performance was right on the money. Despite the ridiculous premise, some gaping plot holes, and a couple of really cheap shots, the chaos that ensues once the snakes are loose is utterly believable. (Except, of course, for the fact that any of the people on that plane managed to survive. And a few other silly things we'll let slide.)

Is it the kind of movie I wish I had written? No. It won't change the kinds of stories I choose to tell. But I do think it takes tremendous skill to entertain and a sense of humor to say, "Here. Snakes on a plane. Take it or leave it." We can grumble about stupidity, commercialism, opportunism, and everything that's wrong with Hollywood. But I admire the spirit in which this film was made. It was fun, pure and simple.

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Continuing my research, I watched My Favorite Wife (1940), directed by Garson Kanin and starring Cary Grant and Irene Dunne. It's about a wife who returns to her family after being shipwrecked on a deserted island for seven years -- on the very day her husband had her declared legally dead and married another woman. Implausibilities notwithstanding, this seems to set up a pretty good conflict. Well-handled, nobody would mind suspending their disbelief to go with the story. Unfortunately, the film lacks energy and -- conflict!

Instead of digging out a story line we could care about, the film piles implausibility upon implausibility and uses all manner of easy tricks to get Cary Grant and Irene Dunne to "do" Cary Grant (befuddled and charming) and Irene Dunne (witty and perky) to the extreme. Both performances are annoying as hell.

Due to the mores of the day, it would have been unthinkable for Cary Grant's character to consummate his marriage with his new bride and then leave her for his long-lost wife. So instead we watch Cary Grant devise every lame excuse to avoid sleeping with his bride. Of course, they couldn't make it too obvious, so the pretense is he's too chicken to tell her about his wife's return. The new bride is not unlikable enough to forgive Grant for his behavior, and he only ends up looking like a cad. Meanwhile, it turns out Irene Dunne was not marooned alone. She had the company of a virile Johnny Weissmuller look-alike. So the story flips to Grant's jealousy and Dunne's punishing him for not trusting her.

This was one of those films that had me talking back to the TV and rewriting the script at least three different ways. There must be a story behind how these top talents managed to turn out such a boring film. Studio politics, a rush job, moral codes?  Because the fixes seem so obvious.

Despite the disappointments, there were a few good moments: when Grant first sees Irene Dunne; when he first sees the Johnny Weissmuller look-alike (swinging from a set of rings before doing an Olympic-worthy dive into a swimming pool); a toy doll in the attic that falls and, in a very heartbreaking voice, says "mama;" the judge; and the kids, who are the best actors in the film.

 

More Garson Kanin

I was reading up on screenwriter and director Garson Kanin in Backstory 2: Interviews with Screenwriters of the 1940s and 1950s. The highly-acclaimed Backstory series (volumes 1-4) by Pat McGilligan interviews scores of screenwriters from the 1920s through the 1980s. It's a fascinating look into the personalities, passions, and work methods of these talented and prolific writers and a great history of Hollywood to boot.

Garson Kanin was the author of such gems as It Should Happen to You, The Girl Can't Help It, and, with wife Ruth Gordon, Adam's Rib, and Pat and Mike. I had never seen Born Yesterday (1950), the first film he wrote, which he adapted from his stage play of the same name, so I decided to check it out. It's a wonderfully entertaining film with superb writing, but even more amazing was its star, Judy Holliday.

Holliday plays an ex-showgirl mistress to a nouveau riche junkyard tycoon. He's embarrassed by her lack of smarts and hires a tutor to teach her a little sophistication. With her tutor's help, she realizes she's not as dumb as all that. She soon falls for him, which naturally causes friction between her and the tycoon. Judy Holliday won Best Actress for her sublime portrayal of a ditzy blonde.  Watch especially the scene where she plays Gin Rummy with the boorish junkman, a classic of minimal means and comedic timing.

 To read more about Judy Holliday, check out this article in The Rake.

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