--- In
rara-avis-l@yahoogroups.com, DJ-Anonyme@... wrote:
>
> Richard,
>
> You mention that the director, Cornfield, and Brando
argued over the
> ending of Night of the Following Day. Did either of
their endings
> correspond to the one in White's book? And is there
anything in that
> book to link it to surrealism? I haven't read The
Snatchers, but based
> on the couple of White novels I have read, I can't
imagine any
> connection, quite the opposite.
I have not read the Lionel White novel THE SNATCHERS but it
is clear from the commentary track that Cornfield came up
with the "surrealistic" ending when he wrote the script with
a friend--more on that later.
The Brando ending (as briefly stated by Cornfield) was more
conventional by comparison but it was a hard, tough ending
that I think might have worked better as a close to the
violence that leads up to the end.
> And what were those two doing making a French film?
(Is it in French
or
> English?) > Mark
The film was made in France and is in English, although
interestingly the American cast members have a few lines in
French. However there is no pretence in the movie that they
are anything other than Americans speaking some French.
Here is the background as given by Hubert Cornfield on the
commentary track--which the more I listen to it, I have to
wonder if he forced by illness to use some device or other to
approximate speech. I do not vouch for the facts but simply
am relating Cornfield's statements.
Cornfield says he learned sometime after the fact that
Stanley Kubrick had bought the rights to THE SNATCHERS
intending it to be the basis of his first Hollywood movie.
However, Kubrick learned that there was a ban on movies about
kidnapping at that time. Cornfield says Kubrick went back to
White and said 'is there any other book you have available at
the same price' and that is how Kubrick ended up with the
rights to CLEAN BREAK, which became "The Killing."
Shortly after this, Cornfield buys the rights to THE
SNATCHERS and by this time the ban had been relaxed. So
Cornfield collaborates on a script with a friend and
"everyone loves the script" but even with the ban relaxed
there is a reluctance to do a film about a kidnapping. From
the context of what Cornfield says I gather that the novel
and that original script concerned a kidnapping of a
child.
So Cornfield puts it on the backburner and there it stays for
ten years until he is "down and out in Paris." He starts
fooling around with the script and comes up with the idea of
changing the kidnap victim from a child to a young woman.
This will ease the minds of those concerned about child
kidnapping. He also comes up with his surreal ending, which
with appropriate warnings I will give further along.
About this time he gets a call from his friend Elliott
Kastner, who used to be Cornfield's agent at MCA. Kastner is
calling to congratulate Cornfield on his marriage and after
the usual blah-blah asks what he is working on. Cornfield
tells him he's solved the problem with that old kidnapping
script and tells him of the changes. In his notes Cornfield
has broken the segments into time periods and when Kastner
asks him what it is now called he says "The Night of the
Following Day." As soon as he hears the title, Kastner says
"I want in."
A relative short time later, Kastner tells Cornfield that he
is going to pitch Richard Boone for the lead. A couple of
weeks later, Kastner calls Cornfield in Paris and tells he
that he has Brando for the lead. "What about Boone?"
Cornfield asks and learns that Boone has agreed to take a
secondary role. So that is how Cornfield ended up as
co-writer, director and producer (with Kastner as one of the
executive producers) making the movie in France.
According to Cornfield, Brando quickly turned against him and
did everything he could to humiliate him and sabotage the
movie. This includes trying his damndest to seduce
Cornfield's wife. One of the best scenes in the movie takes
place in a bathroom with a passed-out Rita Moreno in a
bathtub full of water resisting Brando's attempts to wake
her. It is a fantastic scene and a highlight of the wonderful
performance by Moreno with Brando contributing a very
naturalistic support. It was a huge surprise to learn that
Brando was completely drunk during the filming of the scene
and only artful cutting salvaged enough footage of him to
make it work. This was not the last time such artful editing
was necessary. The final scene of the movie calls for a
simple close up of Brando smiling but he made faces for take
after take and eventually Cornfield went frame by frame to
get a suitable image of Brando smiling to freeze-frame for
the closing shot.
The point was finally reached in filming that Brando refused
to work with Cornfield anymore. A scene key to the plot
remained to be filmed with Brando. Because it would mean he
would no longer have to deal with him, Cornfield says he
agreed to let Richard Boone direct that scene. He was unhappy
with the results saying Moreno's brother appears too soft in
the scene but it seemed to work reasonably well to me.
Here are some of my thoughts after two viewings. I state it
this way as my opinions shifted after the second viewing and
may yet again.
Any movie I can watch twice in a week and expect to watch
again in the not too distant future has value and can be
recommended--especially to fellow Rara-Avis members. The
acting by every cast member is at a very high level.
Cornfield says Moreno and Brando looked down their nose at
the French actor who played a policeman who always seemed to
be popping up calling him a "conventional" actor. Cornfield
says he thought the fewllow did a fine job and I agree. Boone
is quite good and, despite his antics behind the scenes,
Brando's performance is at a very high level. Drunk or sober,
happy or rebellious, Brando holds the viewers
attention.
Negatives? For any "caper" movie, the plan of action is an
important element. Typically, the plan is perfect and so is
the execution until a certain point when things start going
wrong. In this film, the plan is a good one and so is the
execution. I especially liked the bit of business that has
the father going into a bank to change the marked bills for
unmarked currency.
But then better than two-thirds into the film, many things
begin to go haywire. This includes planned elements that for
the life of me (and I've watched it twice) make no sense.
Damon Knight once observed that an idiot plot was one that
required characters to become idiots in order to carry it
out. Hereafter I will give some plot details but I will warn
again before I mention the surrealistic ending.
All that is left to succeed is to get the money from the
father and maybe/maybe not free the daughter. So what's the
deal with the bomb the kidnappers set to go off? It seems out
of left field to me. They don't need a diversion. They just
need to quietly get the money and get the hell away from
there. The whole bistro scene makes little sense to me.
Admittedly, fine movies have their own logic--ala "The Big
Sleep"--but those gaps are still worth mentioning.
On another front, Boone decides to seize control and gives
Brando exactly one hour to do his thing with the explosion,
get the ransom and return or else Boone will molest the girl.
I don't get the one hour deadline. Boone clearly wants the
money and wants to molest the girl. Why should he put a hard
time limit on either activity, which seems to run
concurrently.
But even our most beloved noir/hardboiled movies have
gaps--often great gaps--in logic. But most of them have a
satisfying ending and "The Night of the Following Day" does
not.
***Spoiler Warning*** Beware Below
Cornfield says when he was rewriting the old script ten years
later in Paris, he stole the structure from the 1945 British
Film "Dead of Night" which I admit I have not seen. In the
rewrite (and as filmed) the young woman (played by Pamela
Franklin) is having a "premontionary dream". None of this
actually happened. At the end of the movie, the scene shifts
back to the airplane where the young woman is a passenger and
landing in Paris. Rita Moreno is the flight attendent and
Marlon Brando is the driver picking her up. The final shot is
a freeze-frame of Brando smiling--the last shot Cornfield had
trouble getting.
Leading up to that--in my opinion lame-ass ending--is a
sequence where Brando with Moreno and her wounded brother are
returning with the ransom. As they near the hideout, Brando
asks to be let out and tells Moreno to go forward and he will
follow with his "burb gun", an automatic with a folding
stock. The car with Moreno and her brother is shot up by
Boone almost immediately after Brando leaves it. The brother
crawls out with the briefcase containing the ranson as the
car ignites into a ball of flame. Boone comes over and kindly
relieves him of the briefcase and then walks down to the
water wearing a bowler hat and carrying an umbrella.
Brando lets him walk onto the flats (the tide is out) and
then sends a several round burst his way. It's a very nice
scene with Boone collapsing and then slowly pushing his way
upright again using the umbrella and grasping the briefcase
as if he had stumbled in the park. Another brief burst puts
him down again.
Brando walks over to the wounded, prone Boone, who asks "What
are you going to do now Lochinvar?" Brando procedes to drag
Boone out where the incoming tide will drown him.
***Pause for a lengthy aside***Because of my eighth grade
English teacher Mrs. Lee, I know that Lochinvar (perhaps
under an improved spelling) was a hero of the Waverly novels
by Sir Walter Scott. No, my rural Georgia elementary school
did not teach the Waverly novels in the eighth grade. Mrs.
Lee, however, knew them well and would refer to any young
male demonstrating a moonstruck interest in a female as a
"young Lockinvar." When I was in the eighth grade of a dismal
rural Georgia school, we had school-wide movie presentations
for which the principal would charge 25 cents. The principal
was by occupation a Baptist minister, although I am sure he
earned more as a principal than he did as a preacher. He made
a tidy sum from the movies. We were enduring one starring
Easther Williams when my friend June switched places to sit
behind me. Signs of romance? Well, maybe. June preceded to
kick the hell out of my back. All I could do to retaliate was
to reach my hand behind me and bang with my fist against her
shin. And, boy, that hurt. After a bit of this, June and I
were called out of the auditorium and taken to the
principle's office. It gradually became clear to me that they
thought I had been sticking my hand up June's dress. My mind
reeled. At the time (this was the late 1950s), I might as
well have been accused of assasination. I did a "I think I
know what you are accusing me of (as they were very hazy on
the details) but I never...blah, blah. They didn't believe
me. The principal told me-- I ain't making this up--"Richard
if you told me it was raining outside, I'd have to go outside
to check." I never said another word to the mother fucker as
I had never given him any cause to doubt me about anything.
The truth is this: it never occured to me to feel up June. I
was just trying to hurt her because she way kicking me. Once
I was accused I thought: Damn! I should have tried to feel
her up!! It was a perfect opportunity!
Anyway, the Boone ending would have had him shooting Boone,
having the Lochinvar conversation with him and dragging him
out to meet his death by the incoming tide. The scene would
have had Brando sitting on the briefcase with the ransom
while observing Boone's death.
To me this is a better ending than the one the movie endures
now.
Enough for now.
Richard Moore
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