Dying Like Crazy
Finished reading Mark Harris’ Scenes from a Revolution. Two unusually large thumbs up.
(The book also seems to be called Pictures at a Revolution by mistake. I like the Mussorgsky quality of that.)
There’s a story told by Arthur Penn at his appearance at Edinburgh International Film Festival which does not appear in the book’s excellent and extensive coverage of BONNIE AND CLYDE. Now, I don’t know if it’s true, but it seems possible, Penn told it, and it’s funny. It plays into Warren Beatty’s well-known predilection for doing lots of takes, not really starting to act until he’s good and ready, that stuff.
This one will require the use of your mind’s eye, so make sure you have it polished and switched on. Ready?
The film’s climactic massacre was conceived by Penn, under the influence no doubt of Kurosawa, as a kind of “spastic ballet” — bodies jerking as they’re peppered with bullets, blood capsules and squibs blazing everywhere. It took half a day to get Beatty and Faye Dunaway wired up with the necessary explosives for the first angle. Four cameras were lined up, each shooting at a different speed. Beatty had control of the pyrotechnics — he’s supposed to be eating a pear, and by squeezing it, he set off the fireworks.
Action! The mayhem commences. But, for reasons known only to himself, Beatty does not begin to act. “He just stood there with a dopey smile on his face as a piece of his head blue off,” recalled Penn. Bullets rippled Beatty’s suit, and still he remained, smiling and blinking slowly. “And all the time Faye Dunaway, behind him, is dying like crazy. I wish to God I’d kept that piece of film.”
I’d rank this lost outtake even higher than the one I described here.
What we are about now is a week of posts dealing with period movies from the New Hollywood of the ’70s. Not westerns, so much, mainly ’20s and ’30s settings, and quite a few of them New Hollywood looking at Old Hollywood. Hope you can dig it. Suggestions are still welcome.