Which Lie Did I Tell? (51 page)

Okay, readers, last chance now before the doctors take over. Monday-morning quarterbacking not allowed. Would you make this movie? How would you change it?

How would you cast it? (Nick Cage? Terrific actor, but is he a shade too young? If you were Mr. Time Warner and you heard Nick Cage wanted to play Climber, would you make the movie? What if you heard that
George Clooney wanted to do the part—which would you pick? And
why?
Oops, that was Harrison Ford’s agent on the line, he also wants to be Climber. Is he a bit old for it? Would you say goodbye to Nick and George and go with
The Fugitive
?

You would? Great for me, I’m rich, but if you’re a studio executive, you want to do the best you can for your studio, thereby advancing your career, and guess what I know?—Mel is desperate to star. Do you duck Harrison? Are you still back with Nick? What if I tell you that
Bruce Willis is driving onto the lot
right now
and won’t leave until you give him the lead?

What’s a mother to do?

What scenes do you want to keep? All of them? Great for me again, I don’t have to do any more work. Did you like the drowning scene? Did you feel Climber loved his kids? Enough? Not enough? Too much? How would you change things?

Think about all this stuff and
try to remember your ideas,
because the doctors can be pretty persuasive.

Starting with Peter and Bobby Farrelly. Their suggestions are in the form of an interview because they had day jobs when they got the script, directing
Me Myself and Irene.
I went up to Vermont and taped them.

In case you want their writing credits, according to the Internet Movie Database they wrote
Kingpin, Dumb and Dumber, There’s Something About Mary,
and
Me Myself and Irene,
which is due out in summer 2000.

On the drowning scene:

On their falling in love:

On their divorcing (1):

On Act II:

On the kidnapper:

On their divorcing (2):

On the project as a whole:

Scott Frank started his career in 1988 with a movie I never heard of,
Plainclothes.
In 1991 he had two more:
Little Man Tate
and
Dead
Again.
He and
Elmore Leonard turned out to be a pretty good match, witness Frank’s adaptation of
Get Shorty
and last year’s
Out of Sight,
for which he got an Oscar nomination and won a Writer’s Guild of America Award. His next is to be
Minority Report,
with Steven Spielberg on board to direct.

Dear Bill

Subj: Thoughts on “The Big A” …

Okay, these thoughts are maybe three seconds old, so take them with the usual caveats. I should warn you, if I sound a bit fuckerish, it’s only because I’m overworked, underinspired and in a foul mood. The perfect headspace for critiquing a screenplay. Just know I’m probably talking more to myself than to you.

Anyway, ahead of time, forgive me.

I like the idea and in terms of plot (structure), the story is fun and full of abundant twists and turns and surprises. In fact, every scene seems to go in the opposite direction you think it will. If you want to simply tell a fun story, then you’ve succeeded.

On top of that, as with everything you write, everyone speaks in a distinct voice and I particularly like the kids and the way you’ve made them precocious without being obnoxious.

But, for me, I need more character stuff. Character is (for me—and maybe this exercise isn’t about me or what I would do so I should just fuck right off, but since you asked …) everything.

To begin with, I think we need to spend more time with Echo and Climber before they split, only because I don’t know these two at all. She was a sophomore in college, yeah, but WHAT DOES SHE WANT? To be a doctor? To be a painter? To be a hooker? To be the wife of a private detective? What does he want? You tell me how they got their nicknames, but you don’t tell me much else about them. Why did she fall in love with him? I know why he fell in love with her. The same reason all men fall in love with women: she’s beautiful. But what’s the thing about Climber? Why does he still love her (more on this later)?

In terms of character, it seems to me that you give more to the reader of your script than to the viewer of the film. Long paragraphs at the beginning tell us, the reader, about these people. But how will the audience know how she got that nickname? How will the audience know that he’s “a good man in a bad world … as close as anyone’s come to Bogart in TMF”?

And why did she leave him? The reason I get from the script is: Because he turned out to be exactly the guy he appeared to be. Maybe she thought
that’s what she wanted in a guy, but then couldn’t live with it. I don’t know, I don’t want to make too big a deal out of it, but without knowing these people beyond types, I don’t care much what happens to them.

About the kidnapping. I like the details. The Gardeners did it (and yes, you’d have to set them and the other household staff up, but that could be fun to see the kids interacting with them and I think the movie is under-peopled as it is). I like that Phoebe saw it, but hid, etc. etc.… I just don’t know if I’m surprised enough when Shirley (can we get away in this day and age with naming a boy Shirley? Especially with a mother named Echo and a father named Climber? Just a question …) gets snatched.

I do like the idea of a case they all have to work on together, but jeez, it seems like whenever a movie hits a wall, someone close to the good guy gets grabbed up. The wife of the cop. The daughter of the cop. The son of the cop. The cop comes home, there’s a fucking note on the kitchen table …

I’m not saying it couldn’t work, but are we surprised enough by it? Does that even matter?

A few words about the kids. I love the way they talk. I love the IDEA of who they are, but I have questions, most stemming from the notion in the script that:

They pretend to hate their father to make their mother happy.

A) Why DOES their mother so dislike their father? And why does she want her kids to dislike him as well? B) Why would they ever go along quietly when their mother and the asshole Trip want to keep his visits supervised? Why wouldn’t they, as articulate and intelligent as you’ve drawn them, tell their mother what’s up? Especially if they love their father so much?

I think the reason you had trouble with that first scene is because it’s probably the wrong scene. It’s not a scene we want to see. Do we believe it? Look at question B above. Say we do. I still don’t think we need to have the scene. In fact, if you look at your outline, you could cut it and the story wouldn’t change at all. Everybody’s miserable. We know that. Moving on …

You talk about the sleight of hand used in setting up Phoebe’s memory with the line from Jimmy. I think you need more than a line. After the robbery at the bodega, why can’t we have a moment where she (the “blind girl”) describes for the cops everything she saw. And, then, in her moment of glory, Echo and Trip show up, piss on everybody’s high. Just a thought.

Okay—say Trip brought Echo along, who didn’t want to believe it.
Who still loves Climber, but can’t be with him because … (?) He did … (?) I don’t know, maybe he cheated on her because he refused to believe that a woman like that would ever really love a guy like him … he knew that she was more amused with him than in love with him … she didn’t know what she had until now … I don’t know … I’m looking for SOMETHING more than they just come from different places.

Echo Echo Echo. Why do we like her? What’s she doing now besides being a rich bitch (showing her working at the foundation is too little too late, and perhaps, even more off-putting than having her do nothing. And again, you tell us—the reader—how good she is at her job, but we really never see her do anything).

Why in God’s name is she with Trip?

We’re supposed to want Echo and Climber to get together, but the only thing attractive about her is that she’s attractive. Other than that, we know she’s rich. She likes Bartok and Kabuki theater. She’s dating a guy our hero once punched out. Right about now I’m thinking your fastball should have been, SHE gets kidnapped again, this time Climber and the kids go looking for her … but aren’t so sure they really want to find her …

Okay, I know. I’ve come down with both feet. Why? Because I love the idea. I love the story. I don’t love the characters. I’m not even sure they ARE characters—at least not in the sense that goes beyond types or attitudes. When I see a film, I want what the characters want. I want to see them get it, or not get it, in some terrific, dramatic way. I guess what I’m trying to say is this:

Character is what makes us give a shit. Don’t you think?

Okay, I’m done.

(I have trouble WRITING these thoughts. It would be much better if we could talk. That is, if you still WANT to talk to me …)

—Scott

Tony Gilroy’s first flick was
The Cutting Edge
in 1993. More recently he has written
Dolores Claiborne
and
The Devil’s Advocate.
I have known him for thirty years and we still speak to each other—a remark you will understand after you’ve finished his comments.

Bill,

Okay, I’ll play.

I’ve tried to follow the rules here as I went along, but ideas for me come quick. It’s organization that takes time. Opting for fertility over
elegance, I’m gonna brain dump here, and then maybe we can talk about it later and clean it up.