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Okay. I want to talk to you about something, and it might blow your mind a little bit. But do try to keep up. There are these things, these weird little rectangular devices called "books". They come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. They don't take batteries, or need cables or extension cords or wireless cards. They are sometimes informational, sometimes pictorial, and sometimes movies that play inside your head. You create the scenes, settings, and backdrops all with that powerful generator inside your skull.
There is one man who wrote such books, and even had them turned into actual movies. His name was Ira Levin. I say "was" because the man passed this past November 12th, 2007. It was not a sad passing: he died of a heart attack well into his 70's. But I feel the need to commemorate him in my own small way, regardless.
Whether you think you know who he is or not, trust me, you do. The following is but a brief recap of the joy he brought to many with his suspenseful tales (much lauded by both Messrs. King and Palahniuk).
Levin got his start writing training films while in the army, and then writing for television once he was a civilian again. Sort of an ignominious beginning for one with such a fine literary mind, but hey: everyone has to start somewhere. After knocking around the boob tube for a few years, Levin put his English degree to good use and wrote his first novel, the Edgar award-winning A Kiss Before Dying. This novel has been filmed twice, once in 1956 starring a very young Robert Wagner and featuring a brief appearance by an equally young Joanne Woodward, and then again in 1991, starring Matt Dillon and Sean Young in a double role.
The 1956 version, oddly enough, is light years better than it's 35 years further along in cinematic developments counterpart. It does the odd thing of sticking close to the source material. Young Bud Corliss, who grew up poor mainly due to his deadbeat dad, will do anything to become a part of the Kingship mining empire, no matter how many daughters he must go through or people he must kill. Wagner impressively plays the casual psychopath, and Lawrence Roman's script and Gerd Oswald's direction keep up Levin's original suspenseful pace rather well. Of course, it was done in the 50's, and as such is a wee bit melodramatic. But overall, a fine offering.
I had high hopes for the 1991 update. The cast looked good (the aforementioned Dillon and Young, as well as Max Von "Strange Brew" Sydow), and since I enjoyed the earlier take on the material, I figured there was nowhere to go but up.
How wrong I was.
James Deardon, most notable for having had a hand in the FATAL ATTRACTION screenplay, butchered both the script and the direction of the story. Most of the major facts where changed around, and what should have been shocking twists were diluted by being telegraphed way early in the film. None of the characters were relatable or believable; in fact Sean Young came on after Bridget Fonda pulled out, and Matt Dillon was hired because repeated attempts at casting River Phoenix fell through (though they kept upping the offer, he simply could not imagine himself playing the character). Pound for pound, as in all other things, go for the Wagner whenever possible. Also, the foil to Wagner's Bud Corliss, Ellen Kingship, is played by Virginia Leith, whom horror fans might know as "Jan in the pan" from THE BRAIN THAT WOULDN'T DIE.
After Dying, Levin got into writing plays, with two of his early efforts being filmed around the same time. NO TIME FOR SERGEANTS was not only ostensibly the genesis of Gomer Pyle, USMC, but it also paired Andy Griffith and Don Knotts for the first time, I do believe. The later CRITIC'S CHOICE starred Bob Hope and Lucille Ball, and that's none too shabby.
But Levin's biggest stage 
Ah, Sir Olivier, how you are missed. |
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success would come in 1978, when he penned what would become the longest running thriller in Broadway history, as well as the basis for the fabulous 1982 film, DEATHTRAP. The film, directed with the steady hand of Sidney Lumet, smartly keeps the proceedings seeming much like a stage play, with minimal sets and locations and maximum character-driven dialog and action. Christopher Reeve and Michael Caine are brilliant here as would-be co-playwrights (and more?) who have more than a passive-aggressive, love-hate relationship. They get up to some no-good together, and spend the rest of the film warily-eyeing the other, and possibly plotting? Yes, possibly. If for nothing else, Caine's frequent hysterical outbursts forever shatter the illusion of the reserved Englishman. This movie is an absolute must.
Now, to dial the clock back a little bit, Levin's second novel, coming about ten years after his first, was also made into a movie...a little horror trifle called ROSEMARY'S BABY. And by trifle I mean possibly one of the most understated and effective horror films ever made. Mia Farrow essays the title character, who becomes convinced that she is being plotted against by her husband, Guy, played by John Cassavettes, and neighbors Roman and Minnie Castavets (Sidney Blackmer and Ruth Gordon, the latter of whom won an Oscar for her performance), whom she believes wants to take her baby, once born, and use it for some Satanic, black magic purposes. She is thinking along the lines of it being sacrifice, but little does she know it is going to be so much worse.
ROSERMARY'S BABY is effective certainly for the acting involved, as well as Roman Polanski's inspired direction, but the fact remains that Polanski's script follows the Levin book almost to the letter. All he had to do was shoot it without effing it up. Which he did. And how. Unfortunately, the good name of the film was besmirched, or at least was the victim of an attempted besmirching, by a vile and pernicious, and not in the good way, made for TV sequel LOOK WHAT'S HAPPENED TO ROSEMARY'S BABY. Shame on you, from beyond the grave, Ruth Gordon, for lending your talent to such drivel.
(Note: Levin actually wrote a sequel to ROSEMARY'S BABY himself. It was the last book he would ever write, 1997's Son of Rosemary. I am iffy on it. I thought it started out fabulously, but sort of lost steam at some point. The ending limped along. Not a bad read, but not a great one. If it ever does get filmed, we would of course need Mia Farrow back, to whom the book is dedicated anyway, and I would like to see Christian Bale as Andy and maybe Daniel Craig as Joe).
Made for TV movies weren't always bad to Levin, though: witness the 1975 adaptation of his brilliant THE STEPFORD WIVES. I hear really good things about it. Unfortunately, when a copy of it arrived from Netflix, it had a huge, jagged crack in it, rendering me unable to view it before this column goes to press. But like I said, I hear really good things. The concept of the novel is old hat, what with Stepford now being a term applied to anything automatonish, but I will say that one of the greatest things about the book is how it leaves the finale ambiguous. Protagonist Joanna Eberhart, as you must know, becomes convinces that all of the vibrant, intelligent and capable women of Stepford, CT, are being replaced with androids programmed to serve their men. But even when Eberhart herself becomes a Stepford wife, it is still never clear what exactly happened to her. I find that delicious, frankly.
There are also two made for TV sequels: the wretchedly stupid REVENGE OF THE STEPFORD WIVES and the not half-bad THE STEPFORD CHILDREN.
(Note: I refuse to discuss the abominable Frank Oz remake. Eff you, Oz, eff you Kidman, and eff you Middler, Walken, Broderick, and Close. What on 
A play is not there until some a**hole writes it! |
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EARTH were you people thinking?)
Next up we must discuss another Levin cinematic adaptation that is just fine yet still has a planned remake in the works, 1978's THE BOYS FROM BRAZIL. In this intense conspiracy thriller, no less than Josef Mengele, the Angel of Death from Auschwitz, is alive and well and planning to harvest a herd of Hitler clones for the proper candidate to ignite the Fourth Reich. Gregory Peck is Mengele (making me think of the Convexities song Gregory Peck: some people think his acting is wood, I think his acting is good) and possibly the greatest actor who ever lived, Sir Laurence Olivier as Nazi-hunter Ezra Lieberman. Olivier really shines in this piece: he manages to be funny, tragic, and heroic all at the same time. They really don't make them like that any more.
The film is chilling in its portrayal of the Nazi and neo-Nazi plot, and pushes all of the right buttons. It does lose a wee bit in the translation from Levin's impressive novel, but not nearly as much as Brett Ratner thinks. The putz responsible for the Rush Hour movies thinks that the remake will work much better than the "flawed" original because he won't have to spend as much time describing what cloning is.
Whatever.
Moving right along, we have the fifth cinematic adaptation of Levin's seven novels, SLIVER (1993). SLIVER, in a word, sucks. Joe Eszterhas managed to misunderstand the material he was given, and wrote a screenplay that ramped up the (kind of gross) sex and diluted the interplay between Kay Norris (here changed to Carly Norris, played functionally by Sharon Stone) and Pete Hawkins (here changed to Zeke Hawkins, and completely FUBARed by Billy Baldwin). Not only are characters and their relationships changed, but the ending and indeed the basic premise of the book was totally trashed. At the film's final scene, I actually threw my remote and screamed something I best not repeat here. SLIVER is not really my favorite Levin novel, but it is 24-karat gold next to this Philip Noyce directed turd (is this really the same guy who did DEAD CALM and RABBIT-PROOF FENCE?)
On a final note, the only other Levin book not to be filmed is the one I am reading right now, This Perfect Day. Written in 1970, it is a dystopian future piece that actually holds up in modern times. Taking a cue from Brave New World and running with it, there is the "Family", whose "Members" are drugged to the hilt and trained like rats in a maze to touch scanners everywhere they go, asking permission for every step of their day. There are no locks or barriers though: a blinking red "no" is sufficient to chastise any good Family member. The Family has spread throughout the planets of the galaxy, but Levin wisely sticks to Earth. Members who act aggressively or question "Uni", the computer that governs all daily life and makes all decision for members, are considered "sick" and must have their treatments modified until they are docile again. And of course one member takes it upon himself to find a way to avoid his treatments, and find one of the mythical islands inhabited by the "incurables".
This Perfect Day will probably never be filmed, because even though it predates them, it bears too much resemblance to other existing films (think LOGAN'S RUN). Which maybe isn't so bad. As much as I love movies, I sometimes rather enjoy the ones I get to play inside my head, the ones that get to be my own, private fantasies. We should all enjoy them while we can, before some "Unicomp" is invented and wants to be our be all and end all decision maker.
(Note: ROAST MULES is an anagram that figures prominently in Son of Rosemary. It is an ordinary ten-letter word that even Kindergarteners know. Good luck)
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| Agent Provocateur |
Every other Sunday
Eating the flesh of lesser film geeks since '72.
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| Zombie Boy |
Zombie Boy is not a Hollywood insider, just a movie
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opinions. His column will concentrate on the things he
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