December 20, 2020

THE FRONT PAGE (1974)

Billy Wilder's remake of Charles MacArthur and Ben Hecht's 1928 play occupies a snug but odd place in the filmographies of all those in it. A snapshot of the differing states of the careers of its actors, crew, and writers, if you will. Already brought to the screen (slightly censored from the stage version) in 1931 and again in 1940 as His Girl Friday, the story struck again while the iron was hot in the wake of Watergate and a slew of films themed around the era's paranoia. That, coupled with the wave of nostalgia films also ubiquitous for the rest of the decade (Paper Moon, The Great Gatsby, The Sting), likely spurred Universal to throw their newsboy cap into the ring as well.

Jack Lemmon as Hildy Johnson

Walter Matthau as Walter Burns

Susan Sarandon as Peggy Grant

Austin Pendleton as Earl Williams

Vincent Gardenia (center) as Sheriff "Honest Pete" Hartman

Adapted by Wilder's main scribe I.A.L. Diamond, TFP takes advantage of a great cast, relaxed 70s standards, and timely source material to produce an admirable if ultimately mixed result.

Above: the only weather-related indication that the film takes place in June.

Indeed, a fundamental flaw that is soon noticed with TFP is its timing, pacing, and relative lack of tightness in its energy and direction. Wilder seemingly aims for lines of dialogue to simply not overlap, which is often doom for a fast-paced satire.

After the film's excellent opening credits, it loses considerable momentum
once we see the press room and the competing newsmen in it.

On the upside, Lemmon and Matthau are great together, and Diamond's screenplay rightfully expands Matthau's role and accommodates their winning chemistry. The factors of the source material's dialogue, Matthau and Lemmon's quicker timing, and far worse outings such as Buddy Buddy and The Odd Couple II have given me a new appreciation of this film on recent rewatches.

Pendleton said years later that Matthau and Lemmon didn't 
get along with Wilder over their conflicting approaches to the film. 
Tellingly, it's this portion of the film that seemingly has the most energy.

Gardenia is a standout, easily matching Matthau and Lemmon's energy
and making for a fun, blustery villain (relatively speaking).

Pendleton also fares well, adding a much-needed sweetness to the proceedings.

Make no mistake, TFP is not a long film (it's barely over an hour and forty minutes), but it can feel that way at times, especially in the first half. Perhaps Wilder was better off just allowing Matthau, Lemmon, and others to pick up the pace and inherent manic energy characteristic of the profession being satirized. 

THE ROLE OF ADAPTATION 

Diamond's script adds several new characters while removing several others, such as Hildy's future mother-in-law who Walter kidnaps (as hilarious as Matthau's Walter doing this would be).

Jon Korkes as Rudy Keppler
One of the best additions to this version, as it allows Walter to basically
troll Hildy from offscreen and emphasize Hildy's professional ego.

But the best immediate result of Diamond's adaptation is the expansion of Walter Burns' screentime, unsurprising given Matthau's star power and excellent casting.

I love how Walter just appears in the room here, a la Buddy Love.

The downside comes as a result of the aforementioned looser standards in language, as while Deliberate Values Dissonance is definitely in play here, the mentions of "f*ggot" and other words not in the original play come off as jarring and even a little cheap, especially given how characters already use terms like "red" and "pinko", (but not harsher versions of those words) in the period slang context. 

And that's before getting into the cringey implied actions (to Keppler)
of newsman Bensinger (David Wayne).



Diamond does a decent job adding events and action outside of the press room
setting, including this (visibly) sped-up chase of squad cars rushing to 
various alerts of Williams' whereabouts.

THE STUFF OF SLATES (AND THE REST...)

Wilder and Co. put together a stellar supporting cast for TFP. Loaded with character actors, Wilder regulars, and "before they were big"s, TFP's roster includes but is not limited to...

Herb Edelman (Stan on The Golden Girls and Murray in The Odd Couple (1968))
as Schwartz and Allen Garfield (Nashville, Beverly Hills Cop II) as Kruger

Charles Durning (Tootsie, The Muppet Movie, Peter Griffin's dad) as Murphy

Dick O'Neill (who costarred with Matthau that year in The Taking of Pelham One Two Three) as McHugh

Cliff Osmond (another Wilder regular) as Officer Jacobi, who was only mentioned in the play.

Harold Gould as the Mayor 

Paul Benedict (Mr. Bentley on The Jeffersons) as Plunkett

THE REDHEAD IN THE ROOM...

Carol Burnett as Mollie Malloy

In the grand scheme of things, while not terrible at first, Burnett's portrayal of TFP's moral center is tonally mismatched to the rest of the film. My first viewing wasn't helped by having previously seen 1972's Pete 'n' Tillie, so imagine the whiplash seeing and hearing Burnett's pitched-too-high performance, almost diametrically opposed to the actors around her. 

Some time after the film's release, after it was shown as an in-flight movie on a flight she was on, Burnett stood up, went on the attendants' P.A. system, and apologized to her fellow passengers for what they had just witnessed, to great applause.

THE STUFF OF PLATES

Despite its flaws, I've found myself coming back to TFP time and time again for its period detail, cinematography (by Jordan Cronenweth), lighting, and atmosphere. It's not a far cry from other period films of the 70s, but its setting and somewhat-claustrophobic feel (for its 2.39:1 aspect ratio) reminds me of rainy winter nights at home rather than Chicago in the summertime (which you'd think would be hotter than seen in the film, but who knows).









1974: A banner year for trains, fog, and white lights.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

You know it's 1974 when the (intentionally) bland girlfriend is played by
Susan Freaking Sarandon, of all people.

The original Stormtrooper Aim.

Still shorter than the wait for Rex Kramer.

TIDBITS AND SUCH


TFP would later find itself featured (albeit with its clips out of order) in 2019's Dolemite is My Name (a film I highly recommend). It says something about TFP's place in film history when its most prominent appearance has it being lambasted by the main characters.

    

Like with its cinematography, another visual aspect of TFP that stuck with me was its great posters (U.S. and Japanese ones above). Given the amount that survives today in the form of posters, lobby cards, and foreign release materials, Universal seemed to have been gunning for a massive hit that ultimately fell a bit short.


The Front Page has found a new audience on DVD and Blu-ray, and while it's not deserving of being a mere footnote, its overall result leaves much to be desired, given its league of talent.


Copyright © Chynna Moore

December 16, 2020

PIXAR'S 22 RULES OF STORYTELLING: ILLUSTRATED

Pixar’s 22 Rules of Storytelling, as originally brought forth by story artist Emma Coats, serves as a litany of "tests" for really any story from a writer's perspective. Here are the 22 rules (in bold) and my examples and takes on applying them.

#1: You admire a character for trying more than for their successes.

Any teacher (or other professional) will tell you how important effort is to the final result. Comedies in general make fodder out of failure, but while humor can certainly be mined from a character not trying or failing epically, a character is far more endearing if they act with effort, earnestness, and the best of intentions, regardless of failure or success.

Bless him for trying (no pun intended), but Father Maurice's attempt
(and the next ones) to ditch Giuditta in Il Piccolo Diavolo ultimately fails.

#2: You gotta keep in mind what’s interesting to you as an audience, not what’s fun to do as a writer. They can be very different.

After all, you may be fascinated by the idea of a sprawling epic with long shots and landscapes, but this may not get such a warm reception from you, the viewer. Or you want to tackle a topic you have some insight in, but you find your starting point preachy to listen to. Keep the overall writer/audience dichotomy in mind.

#3: Trying for theme is important, but you won’t see what the story is actually about til you’re at the end of it. Now rewrite.

Fortunately, themes are in everything, regardless of the work's actual quality. By the time you've finished your first draft (or even before), you'll already have a fair idea of what parts of your script to revise.

#4: Once upon a time there was ___. Every day, ___. One day ___. Because of that, ___. Because of that, ___. Until finally ___.


"Once upon a time, there was Charley Varrick. Every day, he and his gang would rob banks to survive in a post-crop duster world. One day, they robbed a bank that was a money laundering front for the mob. Because of that, Charley had to go on the run from both the mob and the cops. Because of that, he hatched a slow-burn plan to leave his old life, make a clean break, and dispatch his pursuers. Until finally, his plan's final phase comes together, and he successfully gets away."

#5: Simplify. Focus. Combine characters. Hop over detours. You’ll feel like you’re losing valuable stuff but it sets you free.

Having read In the Heat of the Night in ninth grade, I was disappointed at the time to see the 1967 film skip over a lot of things I appreciated about the book, but in hindsight it was best for the film to focus on the more contrasting partnership of Virgil Tibbs and Bill Gillespie instead of the developing friendship between Tibbs and Sam Wood. And of course, Stirling Silliphant's screenplay rightfully updates Tibbs from a smart but only subtly snarky character to his equally accomplished but (understandably) firmer and more straightforward film version.

#6: What is your character good at, comfortable with? Throw the polar opposite at them. Challenge them. How do they deal?

Exactly as it says.

And in this case, not well.

#7: Come up with your ending before figuring out your middle. Seriously. Endings are hard, get yours working up front.

Relating to my previous post on plot twists, foreshadowing and "breadcrumbs" will generally come to you after deciding your twist and end result. Therefore, aim for the twist/ending first, and try to build the rest around it.

#8: Finish your story, let go even if it’s not perfect. In an ideal world you have both, but move on. Do better next time.

Whether it's giving yourself a break from your hard work, seeing a project through, or letting your finished work be after any possible chance of revision.

#9: When you’re stuck, make a list of what WOULDN’T happen next. Lots of times the material to get you unstuck will show up.

"I told that idiot to slice my sandwich!"

It's all about contrast and playing on viewer expectations (within logical, in-universe reason, of course).

#10: Pull apart the stories you like. What you like in them is a part of you; you’ve got to recognize it before you can use it.

What do you like about your favorite movies? Is it a performance? A twist? The cinematography? The subverted archetypes? This is one of the more fun rules from this list.

In addition to warmth and charm, I am also a sucker for epic death glares.

#11: Putting it on paper lets you start fixing it. If it stays in your head, a perfect idea, you’ll never share it with anyone.

First rule of anything: get it out of your head. If it's good, putting it out will help it develop. If it's bad, it won't be taking up valuable space in your mind anymore (and won't come back to drag down any of your good ideas).

#12: Discount the first thing that comes to mind. And the second, third, fourth, fifth – get the obvious out of the way. Surprise yourself.

Again, subverted expectations (see Rule #9). As a viewer, you are definitely experienced enough to know what the above would be in your favorite genre.

#13: Give your characters opinions. Passive/malleable might seem likable to you as you write, but it’s poison to the audience.

Granted, you could write around this, in that your passive character does have opinions, but simply chooses not to share them. However, to not give a character any opinions at all could seriously doom them to being a blank slate.

Charley Varrick's mouthy, greedy, and trigger-happy Harman (Andrew Robinson)
is a serious liability to the title character's chances of escape.

#14: Why must you tell THIS story? What’s the belief burning within you that your story feeds off of? That’s the heart of it.

In short, what is your story's "something to say"?

The world (or at least NYC in 1974) is full of snarky, cynical people,
but at least this guy still cares a little.

#15: If you were your character, in this situation, how would you feel? Honesty lends credibility to unbelievable situations.

This is certainly an aspect where the emotional side of things comes into play. What emotion is present in a given situation? How would you handle it vs. how a given character would handle it? 

When his wife Nadine bleeds to death from a gunshot wound, Charley Varrick
is crushed emotionally, but mourns her death only somewhat briefly before
getting down to business in escaping with cohort Harman.

#16: What are the stakes? Give us reason to root for the character. What happens if they don’t succeed? Stack the odds against.

Too many films nowadays make the mistake of building up the objective, physical, world-at-risk stakes at the risk of sacrificing character, emotions, and the human elements. Don't make the journey easy, but also don't forget to give your audience a reason to care.


Superman has both the catastrophe element and the human element
in showing the countless people impacted by Lex Luthor's missile strike.

#17: No work is ever wasted. If it’s not working, let go and move on - it’ll come back around to be useful later.

Remember to save all of your ideas, after all.

#18: You have to know yourself: the difference between doing your best & fussing. Story is testing, not refining.

Because sometimes, being too finicky will bite you in the ass.

If you're prone to overanalyzing and perfection-obsessed anxiety like me, it's imperative to know the difference between revising and fueling your anxiety. You can worry too much about what your audience will think, especially if you have zero evidence to back it up.

#19: Coincidences to get characters into trouble are great; coincidences to get them out of it are cheating.


Two bitter rivals at the same holiday resort?
Let the bitchy exchanges commence!

Granted, it can come off as contrived at times, but the former category plays into a viewer's sense of anxiety, fear, and dread, as one's mind already tilts towards the negative. Coincidences to get characters out of trouble, conversely, will threaten to cheapen their journey towards their goals.

#20: Exercise: take the building blocks of a movie you dislike. How'd you rearrange them into what you DO like?

'Nuff said.

Admit it, you (and countless others) already do this, especially if a given bad film is lazy and lends itself to so many better story possibilities.

#21: You gotta identify with your situation/characters, can’t just write ‘cool’. What would make YOU act that way?

Confidence? Ability? Security? Safety? Support? Maybe this character is genuinely who you would be if you just had enough confidence. 

By gleefully acting with confidence and sticking it to the stuffier O'Brien, Thompson, and Kincaid, 
"Whiplash" Willie Gingrich lets the audience live vicariously through him.

#22: What’s the essence of your story? Most economical telling of it? If you know that, you can build out from there.

Streamline, streamline, streamline! But also, does it tap into a universal truth? What parts does your story have to have, and what parts can it de-emphasize or do without? Know what your story is, right down to the bare bones of it.

Superman (the film and the character) is best approached on the basis
of humanity and the world still being innately good at heart.

Copyright © Chynna Moore