Neil Calloway looks at the Hollywood debacle of Nicolas Cage’s upcoming movie Dying of the Light…
A few years ago, hot off the back of Bronson and Valhalla Rising, Nicolas Winding Refn was in Hollywood developing a film with Harrison Ford. Disagreements over the ending meant neither Ford nor Winding Refn remained attached the film. The upside was that Ford gave the Dane some very strong pills for the flu he was suffering from. While under the influence of these tablets, he had a meeting with the star of The Notebook and Lars and the Real Girl, and because he was not firing on all cylinders, he ended the meeting early and asked the actor to drive him home. Flicking through radio stations on the drive back to his hotel, Winding Refn said that this is what he wanted to make a film about; a guy driving round LA listening to electropop. The result was one of the best films of recent years. (Winding Refn tells the story a lot better on the Region 2 DVD of Drive)
Since I’ve heard that story, I’ve wondered about the Ford film. What was it about? What happened to it? This week, we have the answer: Paul Schrader, the writer of the screenplay, directed it with Nicolas Cage taking over from Ford, and Winding Refn staying on as executive producer. It was called Dying of the Light.
The film completed, Schrader and the others fell out with the production company, locked out of the editing suite, they protested. Or rather they didn’t, because they all signed agreements that they wouldn’t complain or disparage the film. They simply appeared in photos with the non disparagement clause emblazoned on their t-shirts.
A smart protest? Maybe. Now everyone will know the talent behind the film aren’t happy with the final product, making it pretty hard for the production company to release it with a great fanfare (who is going to promote it?) and without it being anything other than a curio for people interested in the machinations behind the scenes in Hollywood (which pretty much means I’m guaranteed to see it).
As a general rule of thumb, if an actor promoting a film they have starred in gushes about what fun they had making the movie, I will avoid it, as chances are it will be bad. Likewise, a bad shoot can equal a good film. Shooting The Godfather was so bad that one day Francis Ford Coppola received a telegram from his agent saying “Don’t quit. Make them fire you.” Jaws was a nightmare for Steve Spielberg. Tony Scott twice got fired from Top Gun (luckily they were shooting on an aircraft carrier at the time, so it was hard to replace him). Directing the first Star Wars film took so much out of George Lucas that he didn’t do it again for more than twenty years (and look what happened when he got behind the camera again).
Schrader is invariably referred to as the screenwriter of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull; fine credits anyone would be proud to have on their CV, but they were released in 1973 and 1980. Kenny Hibbitt won the League Cup in 1974 and 1980, but I’m not sure I’d pay to see him play football now. Schrader’s recent work is hardly filled with glory. His prequel to The Exorcist was shelved in favour of one directed by Renny Harlin, before eventually getting its own release when people realised there wasn’t much between them. The Canyons failed to reignite Lindsay Lohan’s career, and led to Schrader having a falling out with one of the producers, who eventually wrote an article for Vanity Fair on the whole experience, which is well worth reading if like me you’re a fan of Hollywood debacles.
The fact is, the only half decent film I can think of in recent years is Kenneth Lonergan’s Margaret, eventually released in a version edited by Martin Scorsese and Thelma Schoonmaker after the director couldn’t cut it down to the required 150 minutes. Even then it’s not the best film where Anna Paquin plays a student who has an inappropriate relationship with her teacher (that honour would go to Spike Lee’s 25th Hour).
Auteur theory has a lot to answer for; directors now believe the hype that they only have the talent and vision to bring their story to the screen. Most the time it’s not true. Most the time they keep their mouth shut and play the game. It’s fun when, like Schrader, they don’t, but it’s rarely useful.
There isn’t much profit in being an internet hero, standing up and making a silent protest to a faceless production company, who understandably want a return on their investment.
Still, if the whole production had been smooth, Winding Refn would have stayed with it and we may never have got Drive. I’d take that over a Nicolas Cage film anyday.
Neil Calloway is a pub quiz extraordinaire and Top Gun obsessive. Check back here every Sunday for future installments.
