TODAY'S NUGGET: The Southerner (1945) - How Important is Being Important to a Character?

[Quick Summary: The kind, hard-working Tucker family arrives on rented farmland to grow cotton for the first time on their own.]

I was not keen on the only other Renoir script I've read,* but this one was heart warming in the best way. I knew why the characters felt/did not feel important.

The man who is robbed of the privilege of becoming important in his own esteem or in the society in which he lives, is a dangerous man. The importance of being important is second only to self-preservation. -Egri 

The best example of this "robbed man" is the scene below.  Note:
- Unwelcoming Mr. Devers has had an eye on the property Sam Tucker just rented.
- Devers has been trying to discourage Sam from staying.
- Devers cut the bucket rope from the common well, then allowed his animals to eat Sam's vegetable garden. Devers and Sam have just had a fist fight.
- Walking home, Sam saw the elusive catfish legend twitching on his line.
- Notice WHY Devers wants the fish. It's not to eat.

The scene dissolves to a close view of Lead Pencil, who is lying on the river bank, and then we see the three men squatting around the fish. Sam is winding up the cable which has served as a line to catch Lead Pencil. Devers is looking at the fish in almost insane admiration. Finally, unable to control himself any longer, he speaks.

DEVERS: Tucker. (As Sam doesn't answer) That's my fish.

SAM: So ya own the river too, huh/ But maybe the Law will call my hook 'n line an Act o' God.

DEVERS: Ya gimme that fish, 'n swear never t'tell ya caught it, 'n I'll give ya (hesitating) a dollar.

SAM (busy with the fish-line): I don' need no dollar. My folks likes fish.

DEVERS: All right. I'll keep the fish long 'nuf to take it to the store 'n shoe it fer a day or two, and you kin have it back.

SAM (still busy with the fish-line): It ain' likely to be very good eatin' after that.

DEVERS: All right. Lemme have the fish 'n ya keep yer mouth shut, 'n ya kind use outta my whole garden. 

Sam is seen close, working the hook out as delicately as if the fish were the frailest gossamer.

SAM (pleasantly): He sure taken a holt of it, didn't he?

DEVERS (frantic): All right, then. You kin have the whole durn garden.

SAM (looking up): 'N the well rope? How we gonna draw water?

DEVERS: All right, durn it. I gotta another rope in the barn.

Sam rises. Devers and Finley are looking at him anxiously. In the background, Nona and Becky come running. We understand that Becky has gone to get Nona. Sam looks at them. The two women stop short, amazed at the friendly attitude of the men.

NONA: Sam! What's happened? Becky tole me....

SAM (nonchalantly): Oh, it ain't nothin! I wuz jes' helpin' Devers here pull this big catfish outten the river! He done caught Lead Pencil!

DEVERS (after a pause): Yeah.

Devers looks closely at Sam, gratitude and friendliness in his eyes, as the scene fades out.

WHAT I'VE LEARNED: I like how the audience can see that Devers wants to feel important, but I don't think Devers really realizes how much he does.

The Southerner (1945)
Written and directed by Jean Renoir
Adapted from the novel, "Hold Autumn in Your Hand," by George Sessions Perry

*La Grande Illusion (1937) is #85 on WGA's list of best scripts.  My blog post on it is here.

TODAY'S NUGGET: None But the Lonely Heart (1945) - Hiding a Setup in Plain Sight for Later Betrayal

[Quick Summary: When a wanderer returns home to help his mother run a pawn shop, they both secretly turn to crime to make ends meet.]

I should've known that Clifford Odets* would deliver another complex stunner. 

His script here is extremely well-written. It reads fast, very free and natural. 

When I looked closer, though, I was amazed how difficult it is on a craft level (ensemble, deep themes, 2-3 story lines, etc.)

Today I will focus on his use of a setup for a later betrayal (I never saw it coming!)

In the story:
- Ernie has been wandering all over the UK. 
- He runs out of money and returns home to Ma, a tough, honest pawn shop owner. 
- Ma is brusque but kind to Ernie: You can either stay for good or go. 
- Ma tells Ike, a long time friend and fellow pawn shop owner, about the cancer, but not Ernie. Ike gives Ernie a job fixing a clock to give him some funds.

In the scene below:
- Notice how kind Ike is to everyone - Ernie, Lesser, a random old lady.
- Notice also we're focused on Ike's discomfort at relaying bad news AND he's doing Ernie a favor. How will Ernie take it?
- Notice that this DOES NOT look like a setup for a later payoff, i.e., There is plenty of drama to occupy our attention for now...only much later will we recall this scene and grasp it was a setup when Ernie betrays Ike later. 

Ike's assistant, little Mr. Lesser, comes in from the shop, a ring in his hand.

LESSER: She wants a quid on this - an old lady.

IKE (looking at the ring): Give it to her - an old lady, Mr. Lesser. (Sighing) Everything with a kiss.

LESSER (shaking his head as he walks out): Clocks, clocks...tick tock.

ERNIE: Best I could do with that old main spring.

IKE (as he picks up the clock, looks it over, and puts it down): Tick tock, tick tock... (Then) Did you ever realize your mother was once upon a time maybe the most beautiful woman in the East End of London? (Ernie looks up, surprised at this irrelevancy. Ike continues soberly and shrewdly.) In the old days, I mean.

ERNIE (puzzled): What about it?

IKE: Excuse me if I put a flea in your ear. Your mother is a very sick woman...

Ernie slowly stands up. He looks tightly at the old man.

ERNIE: You owe me two pounds, Mr. Weber. Pay it an' I'll be on my way.

Silently Ike takes some bills from his pocket and gives them to Ernie. Ernie puts on his cap and starts out through the front of the shop, the dog after him. He passes the counter where Lesser is polishing some rings. About to leave the shop, Ernie stops with his hand on the doorknob. Then he slowly turns, calling back sarcastically, hand still on the knob.

ERNIE: What's it she's got? A pain for her no-good son?

WHAT I'VE LEARNED: This is a very sophisticated setup because it doesn't look, smell, or sound like a setup.

In the age where audiences are always looking for something new, a twist, something NEW, this kind of craft can really set one apart as a writer.

None But the Lonely Heart (1945)
by Clifford Odets
Adapted from the novel by Richard Llwellyn

*He was a well-known playwright and writer of the famous film Sweet Smell of Success (1957) (my blog on it here).

TODAY'S NUGGET: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945) - Emotion: Earning the Audience's Sympathy

[Quick Summary: In 1900s Brooklyn tenements, Francie Nolan (12) and her brother Neeley grow up with an alcoholic father and determined mother.]

I did not expect to cry, so I was surprised when I teared up around part 9 (this printed edition is divided into 10 parts).  How did this script earn my sympathies?

First, it showed me a "oh-I-know-that-character," Francie:

"[She is] about thirteen. She is a rather quiet child. She has inherited from Johnny, her father, a sensitiveness and an imagination that make her by the far the more difficult problem in parenthood for the Nolans."

Then it showed me an "oh-I-know-that-role" in her family's situation. 

This is best seen in the scene below:
- Francie is closer to her father Johnny, a loving father, but drinks because he cannot provide well. 
- The burden falls on her mother Katie, who is the janitor of their apartment building, and the kids to look out for Johnny.
- Note the recognizable dynamic: an overly responsible child who loves her still impractical parent.

Suddenly he stops at the window of the hardware shop as they pass it.

JOHNNY: Look at all the things they got. No use talkin', some day I'm gonna get you them skates.

FRANCIE (maternally): Mama said not to be late, papa.

JOHNNY: God invented time, Prima Donna, and whenever He invents somethin' there's always plenty of it. (Moving down the window) Look at them knives!

FRANCIE (gravely): Mama says time is money.

JOHNNY: Well, I guess maybe He wasn't worryin' about money right then.

FRANCIE (a little worried): There's your car, papa.

JOHNNY (looking, and grinning at her): Might as well catch it, I guess.

He kisses her quickly and goes toward the car. Francie calls "goodbye" after him and stands watching anxiously.

Johnny swings onto the car just as it starts to move on. He smiles back, then tips his hat with a fine flourish to Francie.

Nobody but papa has ever tipped his hat to her. She is so proud her eyes glisten suspiciously. Her concern is gone and nothing is left but worship. She waves till the car is out of sight. And the scene fades out.

WHAT I'VE LEARNED: The audience will not sympathize if it cannot recognize a situation.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945)
by Tess Slesinger & Frank Davis
Adapted from the novel by Betty Smith

TODAY'S NUGGET: The Lost Weekend (1945) - Two Steps in Thinking About Emotion

[Quick Summary:  Don, an alcoholic, failed novelist, tries to survive the weekend alone at his brother's apartment.]

The premise of an alcoholic getting drunk over a long weekend? Boring, right?

I read this script and had to begrudgingly admit that the writers Wilder and Brackett got my emotions invested.  How? 

Lagos Egri said it best in his chapter "Emotion: The Source of Identification":

Here is where the writer's intelligence is tested to the full. The first step is to make your reader or viewer identify your character as someone he knows. Step two - if the author can make the audience imagine that what is happening can happen to him, the situation will be permeated with aroused emotion and the viewer will experience a sensation so great that he will feel not as a spectator but as the participant of an exciting drama before him. 

Here, the writers first establish how Don uses alcohol to numb him from fear as a failed writer (we ALL know that person).  

Don must, must have alcohol, but has not sold his precious typewriter or cheated on his faithful girlfriend Helen.  

But when his hits bottom (scene below) we all say, "That could happen to me too":

Don is shaking so that he can't pick up the glass. He bends down, sucks half of it, then lifts the glass and drians the rest. He holds out the empty glass to Nat, his eyes imploring.

NAT: That's all.

DON: Come on, Nat, come on. I'll let you have my typewriter.

NAT: I'm no writer. You're the writer. Now go. Go away.

DON: Nat --

NAT: I mean it. Get out.

Don takes the typewriter and drags himself out of Nat's place. Then we see Third Avenue, outside Nat's as Don emerges, and starts dragging himself up the street toward home. As he passes the antique shop, he suddenly stops. There stands the wooden Indian that Gloria spoke about, pointing up. That's where Gloria lives. Second floor, this same house. Don walks into the house.

WHAT I'VE LEARNED: I shall cogitate more about the second part ("could happen to me too") because it is the trickier bit for me.

The Lost Weekend (1945)
by Charles Brackett & Billy Wilder
Adapted from the novel by Charles R. Jackson

TODAY'S NUGGET: Henry V (1944) - Silent, Visual Cues

[Quick Summary: Young Henry V attempts to conquer France in 1415.]

Q: You've never read this play before.
A: No. 

Q: So given that, how was the adaptation? Could you follow it?
A:  It IS exactly the play, but well-edited.  And yes, I could follow it.

Q: So how was it as a script?
A: Honestly? I was bored.  I tend to agree with P. Mosdell who wrote, "Henry V is not particularly significant in the history of cinema," because it's a film of a play.*

Q: This was a well regarded film, done for cheap after the war.  Did the script have any cinematic merit for you?
A: I'm unsurprised by the absence of narrative flourishes that are common today.  After all, this was written by Olivier, for himself to direct and star in.

I did like how the script breaks illusion with a silent, visual cue to convey, "We know this is a play." At the beginning, it is a boy with writing on a placard.

Here is how they did it at the end, simply with make-up (underlined):

Henry and Katharine are crowned and joining hands walk away from the camera to two thrones in the b.g. CAMERA TRACKS FORWARD following them.

C.U. Henry turns round on reaching the throne. He is wearing the crude Globe Theater make-up.

                                                                     APPLAUSE IS HEARD.

CAMERA PANS R. to show a boy made-up as Katharine acknowledging applause.

M.S. Henry and the Boy as Katherine, CAMERA TRACKS BACK to reveal the Stage of the Globe Theatre. Chorus enters L. and pulls the curtain across.

WHAT I'VE LEARNED: Plays are heavy on the auditory, and films on the visuals. So when transferring a play to film, find where the visuals can carry for the auditory.

Henry V (1944)(continuity script)
by William Shakespeare and Laurence Olivier & Dallas Bower

*Canadian Forum, Oct. 1946.