Letting Go: The Last Picture Show and Me

posted in: The Film | 0

Here’s my favorite scene from one of my favorite films, The Last Picture Show.

At 56 seconds in, one long take begins. In the DVD extras director Peter Bogdanovich talks about  how the weather blessed him for this shot. As Ben Johnson delivers his monologue and the camera dollies in, the light changes.  In the extras Bogdanovich tells us the sun came through a sky that had been overcast the whole rest of the day at the most opportune time. Then the camera dollies out and the light changes again, the sky is overcast, again at an appropriate point in the monologue. He was amazed at his luck.

At 3:08 there’s a cut to a lake for 4 seconds or so — Ben’s pov and Bottoms voice over — and then we’re back on Ben delivering the rest of his monologue.

Bogdanovich also tells us, with more than a little disappointment, about that cut. He intended the monologue to be one long take, but Timothy Bottoms didn’t deliver his line in that first, light-changing take. (Bogdanovich was not pleased with Bottoms that day, and he says the actor claimed he didn’t forget his line, that he was just thinking.) They shot it again, but of course the sun didn’t cooperate that time and the take wasn’t nearly as good.

It is obvious that even 30-odd years later, when the extras were shot, the director wishes Bottoms had delivered his line as rehearsed and that he had that one long take.

As a viewer  I watch the scene above and I don’t care one bit about that cut. The beauty of the monologue, Ben Johnson’s face, his delivery, Timothy Bottom’s attention, the composition, the length of the take, the dolly in, the change in light, the dolly out, it makes for such a powerful  and almost overwhelming scene that I don’t notice that cut at all. This scene  takes my breath away, and  the knowledge that it might have been better (at least to the director) doesn’t detract from the finished product. When I watch it, I see a perfect scene.

As a filmmaker, a few things about this story resonate with me.

Paul Albe welcomes Trip Cullman into his office in 8 1/2 x 11.
Paul Albe welcomes Trip Cullman into his office in 8 1/2 x 11.

One lesson I learned when I was making 8 1/2 x 11 came from the sound designer. I was having a melt down about some sound issue. He told me to relax, it would all be taken care of by the competent post production people involved. And in so many words he said  that there are things directors obsess about that sound people don’t sweat at all. And what my meltdown was about was one of those things. And he was right, everything worked out fine. Lesson still learning: letting it go in the heat of the moment.

Another. When I watch Tango Octogenario now… actually, I can’t watch it now (though I still enjoy hearing the music), all I see are mistakes and what ifs. The biggest what if is the location. I was probably $1,000 dollars shy of renting out a truly spectacular location, one that I thought was perfect for the film, and so every time I’ve seen the finished  film, I think how much better it could have been had I used the other location. $1000. C’mon! I could have come up with that! Lesson still learning: letting it go after the fact.

 

darden_imperfect01I’m hoping to bring these two lessons into A Life’s Work, but it’s difficult. The film is far from finished and already I’m obsessing over stuff no one will notice and full of regrets.

Kooky, right?

[cross-posted on Extra Criticum]

 

Comments are closed.