Absence of Malice [1981]
1. “And the other’s I’m gonna have somebody’s ass in my briefcase.”
2. Spilled coffee, computer printouts.
3. He’s a connoisseur of fine wines but when it comes to beer, he exclusively drinks Budweiser.
Absence of Malice [1981]
1. “And the other’s I’m gonna have somebody’s ass in my briefcase.”
2. Spilled coffee, computer printouts.
3. He’s a connoisseur of fine wines but when it comes to beer, he exclusively drinks Budweiser.
The ‘Burbs [1989]
1. “I’m going to go do something productive. I’m going to go watch television.”
2. The sound of sardines.
3. Credit cards melted together.
“Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders.”
—William Faulkner, Light in August
I wrote this treatment before logging all the footage of the film. Now that I’ve finished syncing all the shots and organizing everything I find that my treatment includes several beautifully conceived shots that were, unfortunately, never filmed. In fact I mention more than one scene that doesn’t exist at all. All moments that would be nice to have, of course, for storytelling purposes.
I’m really more amused and fascinated by this than upset. To me it’s just another example of how memory can refashion the past so that, looking back, everything feels smoother and tidier. When you get the opportunity to revisit what actually happened, to look at the bare facts of the past, more often than not you find that things were messy, incomplete, and accidental. But personally I wouldn’t want it any other way. As Robert Altman once said, the best parts in any movie are the accidents.
(Two of the most interesting books I’ve read in the past year were Permanent Present Tense, by Suzanne Corkin, and Pieces of Light, by Charles Fernyhough.)
My old restaurant reviews for the Chicago Reader are online. Bon appetit!
Well, sort of. Jeff “Beachbum” Berry, tiki expert and rum historian, is the author of the new book Potions of the Caribbean. To celebrate its release he’s swinging through Chicago for a party at Three Dots and a Dash on March 9. Needless to say, I’ll be there. I’m gonna lug three of his previous books over there so I can get them signed.
Jeff contributed a great chapter to my book. The subject of tropical drinks could be considered a bit of a stretch for a movie book, but hey, why not?
The Philadelphia Story [1940]
1. A belted swimming robe. Only the belt fastens with a clasp.
2. “C.K. Dexter Haven, I would like to talk to you.”
“Well, let’s go in the talking room.”
3. Can’t quite seem to get her eyes open.
Rear Window [1954]
1. A truck sprinkles water on the pavement. A group of children follow the truck and play in the water.
2. He almost gets hit by a car, glaring at the driver as it goes past.
3. The guy chews gum even as he drowns the drink.
Still my candidate for the most perfect screenplay ever written.
Scarface [1932]
1. He tosses the gun into the hamper and covers it up with a few towels.
2. Boris Karloff’s only attempt at an American accent?
3. She enters the room dressed all in black.
Seriously, except for swear words and more explicit violence, what has any gangster movie added to the genre since Scarface? No one, not even Scorsese or Coppola, has bested Hawks. And Paul Muni did it all before Pacino, De Niro, et al were even born.
The Sniper [1952]
1. The crowd disperses and it’s just an empty sidewalk with bits of glass.
2. She puts the doll to bed and pours herself a nightcap. A bullet shatters the window and she crumples to the floor.
3. The camera moves in: he sits on the bed, cradling his rifle, his cheek wet with tears. “Come on, Eddie.”
Unfaithfully Yours [1948]
1. “You’ve got it, boy. You don’t have to yearn for it.”
2. He nonchalantly breaks the record in half and pockets it.
3. Cabinets filled with light bulbs and carved figurines.