I continue to enjoy the Neil Simon Fest on Turner Classic Movies, ably hosted by our pal Ken Levine. I wish I knew how to do Chromakey on my computer. They have Ken standing in a blank blue setting and it would be fun to matte him into backgrounds of the North Pole or the Star Wars cantina or a gay bar or something.
Let's see. I watched Murder by Death the other night and didn't enjoy it as much as I did the first time I saw it. I watched The Cheap Detective, which I didn't like in the theaters, and liked less on TCM. Got about a third of the way through, then TiVo-skipped my way to see Ken's outro.
Does anyone know what the story was with Phil Silvers in that movie? He was billed as a star but only had one line and three seconds on screen. Obviously, he was suffering from the effects of his stroke but I'm wondering if that role was much larger when it was cast or if he was signed for a larger part then downgraded when it became obvious he couldn't deliver lines? Either way, it's sad to see such a great performer in such an easily-missable cameo.
I watched Plaza Suite and thought how wonderful Maureen Stapleton was in the first part and how good Walter Matthau was in (only) the third part.
That third playlet — the one about the bride locking herself in the bathroom — is killer material. I saw Carol Burnett and George Kennedy do it on stage (directed by Danny Simon!) and it was one of the funniest things I ever saw in my life. Fifteen or so years ago, a producer I knew was trying to set up a new production of Plaza Suite for cable and he was asking everyone for recommendations of which current stars to cast in each of the acts. I offered to give him the contents of my wallet — about $28 at the time — if he'd make the third couple British and book John Cleese and Tracey Ullman. Alas, the production never happened but I would have spent $28 for that.
I saw California Suite on stage with the original cast and liked three of the four plays a lot better there than in the movie. Actually, Simon changed the Bill Cosby-Richard Pryor one so much for the film that it really wasn't the same play, just the same theme. The one I liked in both venues was the one about the British actress who was in town for the Academy Awards.
I don't think a lot of people know that Simon wrote a sequel to that one. It was in his little-seen London Suite, which I saw on stage (though off-Broadway) in New York, and in it the character Maggie Smith played in the film (Tammy Grimes on Broadway) had turned into Angela Lansbury. She was starring as a detective on a hit U.S. television series — wink, wink — and her gay husband was off living with his new, male life partner.
It was the standout act of London Suite and I thought at the time that Simon must have been planning to write one more playlet about the couple — he left things somewhat dangling at the end of that second one — and then mount a play that would consist of all three chapters. If this was ever his intention, I'm sorry he never did it.
This week, Ken will be hosting The Goodbye Girl, Chapter Two and Only When I Laugh — three movies that all star the second Mrs. Neil Simon, Marsha Mason. The Goodbye Girl is easily the best of them, largely because of a volcanic performance by Richard Dreyfuss. He's great in it and it took me until I saw the failed Broadway musical adaptation of the movie to realize how great. Dreyfuss is very funny and adorable but he's abrasive enough that you can believe it takes the first two-thirds of the movie for Paula (Mason's character) to fall in love with him. On stage, Martin Short had the part and he was funny and adorable…but you couldn't comprehend why Paula (Bernadette Peters there) didn't fall for him halfway through his introductory song. So the show didn't work, at least for me or anybody.
Quick story: I've written here before about my actress friend Bridget Holloman. She had a tiny part in the movie of The Goodbye Girl. — one whole line, which wound up being cut, downgrading her to "extra" stature. You can see her in a couple of shots in a scene at an audition but that was it.
Her line was not even filmed and on the set, Mr. Simon apologized to her for that. She said to him, "I understand. It's just that I was in —" and here she listed for him some of the really awful movies and TV shows she'd been in and then she told him, "I was just looking forward to having a good line for a change."
She said Neil Simon was pleased by that…but not enough to reinstate the line or give her another one. That was not why she'd said it, by the way. She really meant it.
Chapter Two, I think was harmed by the miscasting of James Caan, who did not seem to get Simonesque dialogue. Judd Hirsch did when he did the role on stage and it was quite wonderful. I also felt that Marsha Mason was miscast in the film not because she couldn't be believable as a woman who marries a writer getting over the death of his first wife but because she was that. It was hard, at least for me, to get my mind off the fact that she was essentially playing herself, reliving personal torments slightly fictionalized for our entertainment. It was like the way you cringed in All That Jazz (or should have) when Ann Reinking played a woman who expressed her hurt to Bob Fosse Joe Gideon for not being faithful to her. Anyway, I thought Chapter Two was an okay movie made out of a better play.
Before I saw it, I also thought Mason was miscast in Only When I Laugh, which was Simon's screen adaptation of his play, The Gingerbread Lady. The lead role is that of a recovering, self-destructive alcoholic and the role was originated on the stage by Maureen Stapleton. I bet she was great in it. I could buy her as that kind of person in an instant. Marsha Mason struck me as just too lovely and too strong to play a person of such weakness…but I guess I forgot how good an actress she was. It was a pretty good movie which didn't get the attention it deserved. Glad to see it included here.
Note to Ken: You stated in your intro to The Odd Couple that when Walter Matthau and Art Carney originated the roles of Oscar and Felix on stage, they at some point traded roles. A leading authority on this kind of thing (i.e., me) believes this is an Urban Legend and not at all true. You also stated that you felt Klugman and Randall eclipsed Matthau and his co-star in the movie, Jack Lemmon, as those characters. Next time we lunch, I will tell you why I don't agree and our meal will probably devolve into an ugly fist fight and the busboys will have to separate us. I can tolerate people who hold differing political or religious viewpoints but not this.
Incidentally — and leaving the topics of Neil Simon, Ken Levine and Turner Classic Movies: In the piece I just linked to, I was writing about when Art Carney won the Oscar for his role in Harry and Tonto. I said…
No one expected that win, up against Nicholson in Chinatown, Pacino in Godfather II, Dustin Hoffman as Lenny, and Albert Finney in Murder on the Orient Express. When they called the name of Art Carney, he had a reaction I don't think I've ever seen from anyone else on the Academy Awards. It was kind of a stunned "Really?" not just at the name but at a sudden roar of approval from the audience. They liked that choice even if the recipient couldn't quite wrap his brain around it for a moment. You kind of got the feeling that he was used to being first runner-up in life and couldn't quite grasp that he'd climbed out of the "also starring…" pit. Still, being a pro, he rose to the occasion (and his feet) and did a little victory gesture that I can't describe but which seemed to say, "Hey, I did it." I don't recall what he said, other than that he was charmingly unprepared. But I remember that little gesture which said more than any acceptance speech by anyone I've seen before or since.
I couldn't show you that moment before but I can now. It's in the video below…and watching it made me think of one reason why the Academy Awards aren't as exciting as they once were. They used to often be about people we'd known for a long time. When Carney won in 1975, he was someone America had been watching for more than two decades. Back then, they went to people like him, John Wayne, Jack Lemmon, Marlon Brando…people with more of a sense of history. Now, they go to folks who, while they may have been around for a while, weren't really on most filmgoers' radar longer than about ten years…or maybe three or four outstanding films.
This is a generalization and there are plenty of exceptions but I don't think we often get that sense of someone finally being rewarded for a lifetime of exemplary work. Listen to how pleased this audience was to see the Oscar go to a longshot TV actor they first knew as Ed Norton. They won't be that happy if an Oscar goes this year to the actor named Ed Norton for Birdman…