04.29.11 | Brian Sieck | Staff NotesPrint this Post
Tags: Top 10 Movie Lists
Yes friends, it’s time for another list, and it’s bound to be a grand and verbose one at that. I’m just kidding… kind of. But I promise I’ll try to be as concise as possible. Anyway, writers write. At least, that’s what people tell me, and over the course of my tenure writing for this blog, I’ve done a fair amount of punching the keyboard. It has made me begin to relate to the whole mindset and process that professional and renowned wordsmiths go through. Furthermore, it got me to thinking about the various authors, both real and fictional, that have been covered in films. Therefore, I decided to dig through the archives to discover the best of the bunch and was a bit surprised to find an embarrassment of riches. It was actually incredibly difficult to whittle the list of worthwhile movies on the subject down to a manageable number, and I wasn’t even able to see every film that I wanted to experience! However, once I set this little project into motion I really didn’t want to abort the mission. So, it’s with that in mind that I would like to present ten of the best productions dealing with artists of the written word (maybe with a few extras thrown in).
In A Lonely Place (1950): “I was born when she kissed me, I died when she left me, I lived a few weeks while she loved me.” And so goes director Nicholas Ray’s emotional film noir that also happens to be a very interesting love story, starring the inimitable Humphrey Bogart as a cynical and ill-tempered screenwriter with a checkered past. It has been quite some time since Bogart had a hit, but when he’s tasked to adapt a popular book for a screenplay, he can’t even bring himself to read the trashy novel. So, he brings the hat-check girl (Martha Stewart), who happens to be reading the book, home from the restaurant he frequents to tell him the story. Bogie eventually gets bored and sends her away, but wakes up the next morning to discover she has been murdered and that he’s the prime suspect. Enter fetching neighbor, Gloria Grahame (Ray’s real-life wife) who provides Bogart with an alibi that may or may not be the truth. The two eventually fall in love, which causes the tortured Bogart to refreshingly take to the typewriter again. However, he has a violent past and battles plenty of personal demons, which causes Grahame (and the audience) to question whether he’s actually guilty or not. This leads to a sequence of harrowing events in a film that’s remarkable not only for its portrayal of a troubled writer (especially one in Hollywood), but for its lead performances and its dependence on having characters and emotion carry the movie, instead of the plot, not that the plot is poor. The combination of a murder mystery and a love story made this film somewhat unique for its time and Bogart deserves much of the credit for embodying a role that many claim to be among his best performances. Some folks even maintain that the character he represented on screen was the closest to his real personality. Of further interest is that even though the marriage between Ray and Grahame was on the rocks at the time of production (talk about a tense set), Ray still had the gumption to push for her to get the part, but actually made her sign a contract stating that she had to obey him. However, Ray was eventually forced to leave Grahame after finding her in bed with his 13-year-old son (who, years later, she would also go on to marry) from another marriage. Yikes!
The Snows Of Kilimanjaro (1952): Surprisingly, even though director Henry King’s epic adaptation of the short story by Ernest Hemingway was a box office success upon its initial release, modern-day critical reviews are actually lukewarm. That’s a bit strange to me because I’m not sure that there’s a movie out there that handles the true angst of a writer with more skill. Maybe the problem for some was the extreme liberty that the producers took with the original story, something even Hemingway himself was very unhappy with. First of all, they completely changed Hemingway’s ending, but that was only the slightest of their alterations. In an effort to supposedly make the film more of a semi-biographical account of Hemingway’s life, producers also borrowed aspects from several of Hemingway’s other stories to flesh out the story and the lead character played by Gregory Peck, which Hemingway did not give permission to do. He had only given commission for “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” after all. In fact, Peck’s major love interest in the film (Ava Gardner) was a character that was completely invented (though, Hemingway and Gardner were friends, so he managed to find praise for her performance). Nevertheless, the production itself is still a compelling one, about a writer (Peck) whose ability is stunted by his penchant booze, chasing women, and big-game hunting. After a safari accident leaves him dying on the mountains of Africa, a despondent Peck recounts his life to his current wife (Susan Hayward), detailing how he compromised his ideals over the years and lost the love of his life (Gardner). Performances are solid across the board, and the film deservedly garnered Oscar nominations for Art Direction and Cinematography (even though the movie was shot almost entirely on a sound stage and not all over the world as the illusion of the production suggests).
The Front (1976): This release that deals with the blacklist of the entertainment industry that started in the late 1940s and continued through most of the ‘50s—where folks were denied employment in the business for their political or even supposed political beliefs—was made by a handful of people (including screenwriter Walter Bernstein and director Martin Ritt) who were blacklisted themselves. Woody Allen (in a rare acting-only turn) plays a restaurant cashier and part-time bookie in financial trouble who has a friend (Michael Murphy) who writes for TV and has been blacklisted during the height of McCarthyism for apparently being a Communist sympathizer. Out of friendship and a need for a percentage of the writer’s fee, Allen agrees to sign his name to Murphy’s script and act on his behalf so that his buddy can continue to work. This “front” is so successful and the quality of the writing is so good that not only do Allen and Murphy get more work and begin to make mountains of cash, but Allen also takes on more blacklisted “clients.” However, when an investigation of Allen is launched and he’s eventually forced to testify in front of the House Un-American Activities Committee and sell out his cohorts, including actor Zero Mostel (in a touching performance that hit close to home for the actor, who was also blacklisted in real life), Allen must take a reluctant stand. The film is infinitely interesting and sometimes even humorous in its portrayal of the paranoia and absurdity of the time, and what the writers must have gone through during this period.
Barfly (1987)/Tales Of Ordinary Madness (1982)/Factotum (2006): Yes, I realize that I have three films taking up one slot, but this is really reserved for Barfly, which is the superior of the three. Unfortunately, that film is no longer available on video, so viewers will have to go with the other two movies as a consolation (Of the two, I do recommend Factotum over Tales of Ordinary Madness, since the latter is actually a bit of a mess, but still fun in spots). Anyway, all three productions portray the life of the same person, the renegade poet and storyteller of our time, Charles Bukowski, or at least his alter ego Henry Chinaski. However, there really isn’t that much difference between the two, since most of Bukowski’s stories are at least semi-autobiographical (He wrote the screenplay for Barfly, Factotum is an adaptation of his novel of the same name, and TOOM is based on various short stories). Barfly stars Mickey Rourke as the Bukowski protagonist, who prefers to spend his days and nights in dive bars drinking his life away. Hey, who hasn’t been able to relate to that at one point or another? Between hangovers, he squeaks out a living writing poetry and short stories. But make no mistake, a life in the gutter is the perfect life for him, and with girlfriend Faye Dunaway in tow, he embarks on one sleazy misadventure after another. Once again, the actors deserve the credit here, especially Rourke who embodies and champions the spirit of Bukowski’s American lowlife with great resonance. In Factotum, Matt Dillon plays a more low-key version of the Bukowski/Chinaski character, and Ben Gazzara essays a somewhat more tragic and even seedier approach on the persona in TOOM, but they’re all intriguing takes on one of my favorite writers.
Barton Fink (1991): Even though this fun film from Joel and Ethan Coen is steeped in symbolism, the meaning of which many critics can’t seem to agree upon, Barton Fink remains an incredible commentary on the struggle of a writer. Set in 1941, the movie stars John Turturro as Barton Fink (intended to resemble real-life playwright Clifford Odets) as a man whose plays about the common man win him a screenwriting deal in Hollywood. Fink is reluctant to accept because he feels that the move will separate him from his blue-collar inspiration, though, how connected he actually is to the common man is dubious at best. However, the allure of the big-time proves to be too tempting, so he takes the job and soon finds his life plunged into utter chaos. As Fink begins to suffer from extreme writer’s block and is tortured by his “friendly” neighbor, Charlie (John Goodman), while staying in a putrid hotel (that’s just as much a character in the film as any person), his situation begins to spiral out of control. Additionally, Fink must also deal with other wild characters such as writer W.P. Mayhew (portrayed brilliantly by John Mahoney as a thinly-veiled but still highly fictional take on novelist William Faulkner) and completely clueless but overbearing and exceptionally powerful studio head Jack Lipnick (played by Michael Lerner in an Oscar-nominated turn that just about steals the movie). By the end of the film, Fink discovers himself in a complete state of confusion and tragedy. It’s a plight that not just writers, but everyone can relate to at some point. After all, sometimes we all feel like we’re “writing a wrestling picture for Wallace Beery.”
The Passion Of Ayn Rand (1999): The renowned Dame Helen Mirren deftly portrays novelist and writer Ayn Rand in this original film produced for the Showtime network. Based on the book written by Barbara Branden—who was the first wife of Nathaniel Branden, a man who became a lover of Rand’s (with Barbara’s consent) and one of her biggest advocates—the film details the woman who wrote such influential works as “The Fountainhead” and “Atlas Shrugged,” and became widely known as a radical thinker promoting self-interest and developing the philosophy known as objectivism. The production does a fine job painting Rand as the revolutionary and controversial figure that she undoubtedly was, while also taking steps to make it known that she was far from a perfect individual and that her philosophy was certainly a murky one, with many pointing out that it was really just intellectualized selfishness. Therefore, one could argue that the film was completely “objective” in its portrayal of Rand’s intense relationships with Barbara and Nathaniel Branden (skillfully essayed by Julie Delpy and Eric Stoltz, respectively), especially focusing on the passionate and complicated affair between Nathaniel and Rand, and her marriage to aloof painter Frank O’Connor (Peter Fonda). All performances are top-notch, with Mirren winning an Emmy and Fonda snatching a Golden Globe, and the movie is so well-done that despite the supposed reality of Rand’s confusing persona, it almost inspired me to read “Atlas Shrugged.” However, at well over a thousand pages, it would most likely take me longer to read it than the fourteen years it took Rand to write it. On second thought, I’ll wait for the movie starring Taylor Schilling…
Wonder Boys (2000): Populated by a tremendous cast including Michael Douglas, Tobey Maguire, Frances McDormand, Robert Downey, Jr., and Rip Torn, and permeated by a soundtrack that boasts the best songwriters of our time such as Bob Dylan (who won an Oscar for his original song), John Lennon, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen and Van Morrison, Wonder Boys is perfectly characterized by Leonard Maltin as a midlife coming-of-age story. It magnificently chronicles the angst of a writer stuck in a rut in the middle of academia through subtle humor and depth of character. Douglas is a literary professor at a Pittsburgh college who in addition to having an impossible time completing his second novel (currently clocking in at seven years and over 2000 pages) after a successful first, is also frustrated over his wife leaving him, and is having an affair with his boss’ wife (McDormand). Over the course of a single weekend during a literary festival, Douglas will have to contend with his infidelity, McDormand telling him she’s pregnant with his child, an impatient and overly impetuous agent, a difficult student, theft, the killing of a dog, losing his car, and the cops, all while continuously stoned on pot. The film does a wonderful job illustrating how a person can be their own worst enemy and get bogged down in their own nonsense even while trying to be a decent human being. The result is a poignant and ultimately positive rumination for anyone (not just writers) who has ever toiled over anything.
Starting Out In The Evening (2007): While this gem is somewhat unknown and undervalued, SOITE boasts an unmatched lead performance from Frank Langella as an aging novelist named Leonard Schiller. In fact, Langella was either nominated, or won an award from a variety of institutions for the role, with some critics believing that he was even snubbed for an Oscar nomination, and it’s difficult to disagree. In the film, Langella was once a celebrated author but has since been forgotten and is now in very poor health while trying to finish what he knows will be his last novel that he’s been working on for a decade. Then, a comely and vibrant graduate student (Lauren Ambrose) doing her thesis on his work enters his life. She wants to do extensive interviews with him and believes her thesis that she intends to publish will reinvigorate interest in Langella’s writing. Ambrose’s character is at least forty years the junior to Langella’s character, but it becomes quite clear that his work means a lot to her, and an unusual attraction and intimacy develops from that. Langella also has a daughter (Lili Taylor) struggling with her own problems and what’s fantastic about the film is that it handles and blends each person’s trouble into the narrative with properly measured attention and care without implementing any grand gimmicks or extreme personal tragedies. Subjects such as aging and being lovelorn are tackled delicately, and it becomes evident that the characters are normal people just making their way. The movie is simultaneously distressing, sad, and uplifting while also being an exceptional study on the process of writing and how an author relates to his or her own work. It’s one of those small independent films released without much fanfare that shouldn’t be missed.
Howl (2010): Sure, many will remember that 2010 for James Franco was the year that he phenomenally portrayed mountain climber Aron Ralston who endured a tragic accident in the film 127 Hours that deservedly snagged him an Academy Award nomination. However, an unfortunate by-product of this accolade may be that movie fans will either forget about or just plain not notice Franco’s sensitive portrayal of poet Allen Ginsberg, whose poem “Howl” became the quintessential literary entry (along with Jack Kerouac’s novel “On the Road”) and battle cry for the Beat Generation of the 1950s. The film Howl uses unconventional techniques to provide an insightful look into Ginsberg’s early life and the tumultuous nature of the time. The production jumps around in time and juxtaposes moments from Ginsberg’s past shot in black-and-white with color footage recreating the 1957 obscenity trial over the poem (featuring Jon Hamm, David Strathairn, Jeff Daniels and Mary-Louise Parker) and interviews with Ginsberg as he discusses his writing and other personal anecdotes regarding his work, such as how he was reluctant to reveal to his father through “Howl” that he was a homosexual. The movie also creatively presents passages of the poem in animated form, which serves as a welcome enhancement to the release, even though some critics cited it as unnecessary. Anyway, the film itself is a tremendous tribute to and celebration of the man and the work that influenced a generation, changed writing and art, and served as a precursor to hippie culture.
Californication (2007-2011…): Yes, I understand that it may be considered cheating to include a TV show on this list, but it’s one of the main productions that inspired this project, and whether all men would admit to it or not, I think there’s a part of every man that wishes to be writer Hank Moody, played marvelously by David Duchovny in the hit Showtime series. Moody, still living off the success of his previous novels, now suffers from writer’s block and his personal demons infect his every move. This likely stems from an extremely hedonistic lifestyle full of caustic fights, booze-soaked adventures, and ill-advised sexual liaisons with a variety of women, in addition to his disdain for being tied to a life in vapid Los Angeles, and his inability to be a positive presence in the lives of his long-suffering estranged ex-wife (Natascha McElhone) whom he still loves, and his pre-teen daughter (Madeleine Martin). He ekes out a living through various odd writing jobs and continues to get into general trouble despite a legitimate desire to do the right thing and exhibiting a genuine connection with his daughter, the most important person in his life. The show is as smart, funny, poignant, slick and entertaining as anything I have seen on television, with a great feel for dialogue and great characters, especially Moody, who completely embodies a writer wrestling to find his voice, maintain his integrity, and make peace with his life. There’s an episode in the third season called “The Apartment” that totally gave me the impression of a super R-rated Three’s Company episode (complete with ‘80s heartthrob Rick Springfield playing himself) that was up there among the best pieces of TV I’ve ever seen. The show is certainly not for the easily offended, but any free spirit willing to give it a shot will be glad they did.
Honorable mentions: I do want to give a quick shout out to a couple of other films that didn’t quite make my cut. The only reason I left Finding Neverland off the definitive list is because it’s already a popular film that was nominated for multiple Oscars (winning for Original Score), including Best Picture, but the movie about playwright J.M. Barrie (Johnny Depp) and his association with the family that served as his inspiration to create “Peter Pan” is certainly a very touching film. The Last Station, about Leo Tolstoy (Christopher Plummer) and his relationship with his wife (Helen Mirren) and followers is another solid release, earning Mirren and Oscar nomination, but didn’t quite make the cut because it focuses a bit too much on Tolstoy’s disciples, as opposed to his work. Additionally, while I enjoyed the Stephen King novel immensely more than the film The Dark Half (directed by the master George A. Romero), any movie where an author’s alter ego springs to life to embark on a murderous rampage has to be worth a look. Finally, there will surely be some folks who inform me that I “forgot” films such as Robert Altman’s The Player, but while it’s absolutely a fine film, I really find it to be more of a mystery and commentary on the Hollywood machine than a movie about writers. So, there it is… so much for being brief. Anyway, I hope some of these films speak to viewers out there the way they spoke to me.
