Adventures in the Screen Trade (8 page)

with a name co-star and a name director. So why did the studio guy say Fonda made On Golden Pond? Because he was desperate to come up with something, anything, that wouldn't shake the foundations of what he knew to be true-what kind of film to make.

There's a whole world of subject matter that will never be touched by the major studios. Because the executives know the sort of film that may work. Just like the bright boys in Detroit knew, a while back, that what the American public really wanted was a great big glossy gas-guzzling car. And all that interest that was starting in Japanese cars? Just another nonrecurring phenomenon. ...

ALL NIGHT LONG

I don't know of any other movie that better illustrates the inter- relationships of studio execs and stars than the Gene Hackman film All Night Long.

Ail Night Long is a fragile Film, very short-it runs only eighty- four minutes and has a distinctly European feel, which is not surprising when you consider that the idea bc:gan with its ultimate director, the Frenchman Jean-Claude Tramont.

Tramont wanted to do a movie about people who work at night.

That was all he had, just that notion, but it struck a chord with the people at Fox, who said to go ahead and Find a writer. They would develop it step by step.

Tramont found the wonderfully talented W. D. Richter (Slither, Invasion of the Body Snatchers), and Richter agreed to attempt a script. What Richter eventually wrote was the story of a man in crisis, a man named George Dupler. (The part eventually played by Hackman.)

George has worked, for twenty-plus years, in regional sales for a large pharmaceutical company. His wife is sort of a sludge, but not evil. His teen-age son also isn't much to crow over: The kid is done with school and, when he works at all, paints houses. George has the kind of life, then, that's okay if you're happy, terrible if you're not.

George isn't happy--all he ever wanted to do was be an inventor.

As the story opens, George has just been passed over for promotion. He takes the news badly: First he slugs his boss, then he throws a chair through a closed window. Because of se- niority, he isn't fired; instead he is made the night manager of a huge California-type drugstore that is open all night long.

Now a distant relative dies, so George and his family pay a condolence call at the house of a macho-type fireman who also works at night. During the visit, George sees his son kissing the Fireman's wife, Cheryl. The next day he confronts the kid and asks, are you having an affair with Cheryl? The answer is yes, but the kid adds that he loves her. George says to end it. The kid is upset.

That night Cheryl visits George in the store to talk about the situation. A few scenes later, George is at Cheryl's house, having a meal, when the kid rings the bell. George quickly sneaks out, hopefully without having been discovered.

But his son is convinced that his father is having an affair with the woman he loves-this news is spoken in front of George's wife-and George snaps. He packs up and leaves, taking a crummy room in a hotel.

Eventually, George and Cheryl actually begin an affair, but before it is consummated, she talks a little about her life. And her fears of being a failure. That's why her music is so important to her-she composes and her dream is to be a songwriter. But as she speaks about her music, it's sad. She's just a neb, poor Cheryl; a weak, sweet, quiet, pushed-around lonely lady. (She married her fireman husband only because he had saved her life: She said yes out of gratitude.)

When George and Cheryl are in love, he quits his job, rents a large space in a warehouse to be an inventor. He goes to a family gathering, bodily takes Cheryl off with him. But then she leaves-she hasn't the guts to stay.

Finally, she sucks it up and goes to the firehouse to talk to her husband, to try and take a stand. He's Furious, shoves her around, and probably would do worse, when the alarm bell goes off.

George, it turns out, set the alarm. When the firemen are gone he pleads with her not to be afraid anymore. She hesitates, then slides down a fire pole into his arms and the two of them begin a new and, hopefully, better life. Fox passed on the project.

Eventually it found its way to producer Leonard Goldberg, a giant television name (Hart to Hart, Family, etc.). Goldberg and his partner Jerry Weintraub (Nashville and Diner) had a deal at Universal that gave them the authority to make movies there whether Universal liked the movie or not-provided that the budget was low enough.

The budget of All Night Long could scarcely have been lower for these inflated times-three-million-and-change.

Universal didn't like it, felt they couldn't sell it, didn't want to do it. But for contractual reasons, they were not in a position to pass.

If Universal hated the project. Gene Hackman loved it. Hackman, an Oscar winner for The French Connection and one of our finest actors, was crazy to play the vehicle part of George. (Getting the script to Hackman undoubtedly caused no problem, since his agent is the most famous in Hollywood, Sue Mongers. Mongers had more than a little interest in the project, since she was married to the director, Jean-Claude Tramont)

Hackman was so anxious to play the lead that he was willing to gamble: He would forfeit at least part of his up-front salary in exchange for a larger percentage at the other end; if the picture cleaned up, so would he.

Now, logic would dictate that since Universal didn't have any faith in the picture, they would have grabbed Hackman's offer. Since they felt the picture would stiff, why not keep costs down up front? Beyond that, if their feelings were correct, Hackman would essentially be doing the picture for nothing.

Universal insisted on paying him his regular salary. So the three-million-and-change movie was now going to cost four and a half.

With Hackman on board, the problems of casting the rest of the picture arose. Hackman's was the giant part-in almost every shot of almost every scene-but there were four major supporting roles: Hackman's wife, his son, the fireman, and of course Cheryl.

Cheryl was the most tricky. The creators felt that, sure, she was attractive, maybe even the belle of the block, but in the great world she shouldn't be a traffic stopper, because that would make the movie about a guy with hot pants. If this had been an English film, Julie Christie would have been wonderful - quiet, pretty but not too pretty, vulnerable. The studio suggested Loni Anderson, the sexpot on the tv series WKRP in Cincinnati.

Lisa Eichhom got the part.

Eichhorn, a fine actress, had received wonderful reviews in the 1979 film Yanks. Screen World Annual selected her as one of the most promising new performers to appear that year, an honor Eichhorn shared with, among others. Bo Derek and Bette Midler. Probably Eichhorn has less instant star quality than these other two ladies, but the part of Cheryl, after all, didn't need star quality-not only is it a secondary role, the entire essence of the role is that this lady is the antithesis of a star. Shy, picked on, lost. Shooting begins.

This is always a nervous time, but no giant problems arise. The first weeks go pretty much according to schedule. Then comes the phone call.

Goldberg listens to the voice of agent Sue Mongers on the other end. Mongers parcels out this tidbit of information: Another of her clients would be interested in taking over the part of Cheryl. Who? Only Barbra Streisand.

Goldberg hangs up, thinks awhile. There is no question in his mind that although both Hackman and Eichhorn are splendid in their roles, there is undeniably a certain chemistry that is lacking. Still, they're well into production.

No matter what, Goldberg can't just sit on the information. So he calls Universal and informs them that Barbra Streisand will do the Lisa Eichhorn part. Universal says, don't go anywhere, we'll get back to you.

Which they do. And now they love the picture. The sales force loves it, the advertising people are in ecstasy, fabulous.

Goldberg tries to explain that it's still the same little picture it always was, the one they so recently loathed, hated, arid despised.

That was in another country, and besides the wench is dead. All Night Long shuts down. For several weeks. Now, this is costly, because all the people who are on salary stay on salary, even though they're not doing anything.

But closing costs are nothing compared to what it takes to sign Streisand. No one knows the truth outside of the people who made the deal, but the rumor around town is four or foui and a half million dollars plus a gigantic contribution to her favorite hospital charity. That's a lot of money, but Barbra Streisand is something very special.

As the lyrics to one of the songs she sang in her break-through role. Funny Girl, proclaim: "I'm the greatest star." The lady just may well be.. Oh, you can argue that Reynolds or Redford or Eastwood is bigger by a hair at the box office-

-but do they sing? (Actually, Reynolds did once, in a 1975 stifferoo called At Long Lost Love, but probably it's not his favor- ite topic of conversation.)

Has any female soloist oversold as many records as Streisand? Name her.

She doesn't choose to play Vegas anymore, but when she did, she killed them. She doesn't choose to do television anymore, but when she did, her specials went through the roof. And if she ever chose to return to Broadway, she'd outrun Fiddler.

The most remarkable thing about Streisand is that she can do it all-there is no area of popular performing where she isn't if. Redford would sell out on Broadway, too, if he ever came back, and so would Reynolds, but how would they do standing alone for an hour on the stage of Caesars Palace with a microphone in their hands? In films, she has been the unquestioned female star for fifteen years. Her movies may not always be successes-Hello Dolly! cost too much to get its money back-but they have almost always done business in the past.

(Remember the "almost," because now I have to talk about the handling of story material, something that may not seem germane but I think may prove to be.)

There is a famous, probably apochryphal, story about a Broadway actor who had a tiny blink of a part in A Streetcar Named Desire. He appeared only at the very end, and then to help cart Blanche away. Someone asked him, before the play opened, what Streetcar was about. And this actor replied, "It's about a man who takes a woman to a booby hatch."

All right. All Night Long is the story of George and his mid-life crisis-but that's only because the writer wrote it that way. Cone With the Wind is only about Scarlett and Rhett because that was the creator's decision, but you could have told about the Civil War through the eyes of Ashley Wilkes, in which case Scarlett would have been of secondary importance and Rhett nothing much at all. Or you could have done the whole thing centering on the Tarlelon twins, minor roles who are with Scarlett at the beginning of the story, in which case everybody major now disappears.

Look, the story of All Night Long could have made a terrific Jane Fonda picture. A noble, decent wife whose husband leaves her but she goes on alone.

If you'd had Travolta, it becomes the son's story-a strong drama about a young man in love and on the brink of manhood who finds himself in dangerous competition with his father over the same object.

The fireman would have been great for Robert Duvall-a tough, expert guy in a dangerous line of work who finds his wife is sleeping with another man, and how does his macho soul come to grips with that?

Or easiest of all: Cheryl's story-it would make a super sex comedy. Start it this way: She's cooking up some concoction in her kitchen, fumbling and funny, when suddenly there's a flash Fire and she's saved by this gorgeous fireman. Dissolve. They marry. He's still gorgeous, but not only is he crummy to her, he's away ail night long. Enter this handsome teen-ager to paint the bedroom, he's confused, insecure-boom, they're in the sack. Only next comes something she hadn't counted on: He's got a real crush on her. Madness: She's a married lady much older than he is. Now another boom: The kid's father finds out and says, look, stop playing around with my son. She says sure, and the next thing you know, she's playing around with the father. she's in the sack with him and the son comes knocking at the door-inslant farce. Men are flying in one door and out the other, with Cheryl at the center, trying to handle her husband with one hand, the kid with the other, and the kid's father with any parts of her body left over.

As a matter of fact, not only would this make a sex comedy, it would be a perfect part for Barbra Streisand. And what is that?

Streisand's persona was pretty much outlined with Funny Girl: This is a lady who dominates. She wins every scene. And she may not be classically beautiful, but her energy and drive are enough to captivate the most beautiful of men-O'Neal, Sharif. Redford.Kristofferson. She can do musicals, she can do farce, she can do romantic comedy. Just let her dominate and you're home.

Remember Up the Sandbox?

It's maybe her most telling film performance, and also her sole disaster. What did she play? A put-upon, forlorn housewife with daydreams that don't quite work. Why did it fail? Because she may have been acting, but she wasn't acting her role. And what was the part of Cheryl? Nothing else but a put-upon, for lorn housewife with daydreams that don't quite work.

Why didn't the studio alter the film, once they'd shut down, to accommodate their star? And why didn't they add a bunch of musical numbers? (Cheryl, after all, is a songwriter in the story.) Because Barbra Streisand wanted to play Cheryl as written. (She was perfectly fine, by the way.)

So what the studio had done was to take a frail, three-million dollar film and turn it into a fifteen-million-dollar film that wan a total disaster and that, when you add in prints and advertising, probably lost them twenty million dollars.

Because what they were doing, in essence, was to pay Barbra Streisand four and a half million dollars not to play Barbra Streisand.

And if the same thing happened today, they'd do it all over again....

DIRECTORS

Some of my best friends are directors.