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FOUR WEEKS OF MAY: ISHTAR

We’ve arrived at the end of Elaine May Month, with one of the most infamous debacles in Hollywood history, ISHTAR. Does the movie deserve its ragged reputation?

It seems like once every decade or so, there’s a major motion picture that ends up making such questionable creative decisions, weathering such tremendous behind-the-scenes drama, and enduring so much negative press that they become “Worst Movie Ever” contenders almost immediately upon release. In the 90’s, it was probably Rob Reiner's famous debacle NORTH. In the 2000’s, you couldn’t avoid hearing a joke about Ben Affleck’s GIGLI . And I’m willing to bet most people heard about the disaster that was 2016’s SUICIDE SQUAD long before they ever got around to seeing it, if they ever did at all.

The funny thing about those once-every-ten-years catastrophes is that those Worst Movie Ever tags eventually start to feel like foregone conclusions, rather than something the movie in question truly earned, an end result of press outlets needing a final punchline to the film they had spent months trashing. That is to say, it wouldn’t be very satisfying to roast BATTLEFIELD EARTH and then have it come out and be just mediocre, would it?

Well, in the case of BATTLEFIELD EARTH and stuff like SUICIDE SQUAD, the moniker ended up being apt. But for some of these others? They’re usually not great, but calling something the “Worst Movie Ever” before it’s even released is usually writing a check the movie can’t actually cash.

We also live in an era where movies that were initially critically derided and financially ignored wind up eventually getting revisited and often championed by future cinephiles. Off the top of my head, a short list of movies I’ve seen get reclaimed over the years include SPIDER-MAN 3, JINGLE ALL THE WAY, STAR WARS: EPISODES 1-3, THE VILLAGE, POPEYE…and ISHTAR.

Ah, yes, ISHTAR, the movie that seemed to symbolize Hollywood failure more than any other when I was a kid. It felt like I heard it referenced a lot; I have a very specific memory of an Animaniacs episode set in a video store where a VHS copy of Elaine May’s final directorial effort was dropped to the floor, causing a nuclear explosion offscreen. Of course, I had never actually seen it; by the time I was old enough to have heard of it, it was almost ten years old. And the idea of watching a movie starring two men in their fifties wandering around in the desert didn’t sound that exciting to adolescent me.

But, as it happens, I have now seen ISHTAR, thanks to this self-imposed Elaine May marathon I’ve now completed. I find myself at a crossroads, trapped between two generation of cinematic evaluation. Is ISHTAR indeed an excessive unfunny attempt at comedy? Or is it in fact an under-appreciated romp?

In order to close out Elaine May Month, let’s find out!

ISHTAR

Directed by: Elaine May

Starring: Warren Beatty, Dustin Hoffman, Isabelle Adjani, Charles Grodin

Written by: Elaine May

Released: May 15, 1987

Length: 107 minutes

ISHTAR is the story of two very bad songwriters, Chuck Clarke (Hoffman) and Lyle Rogers (Beatty) that both manage to find each other and proceed to write terrible songs together in order to pursue their ambitions of becoming a famous singing duo. In an effort to scrape up work for them, their agent Marty Freed (Jack Weston) books them a gig in a Marrakesh hotel; as it happens, there’s an opening in the lineup due to recent political unrest. With nowhere else to turn, Chuck and Lyle head to Morocco.

Their flight takes them as far as neighboring Ishtar, where Chuck runs into a mysterious, desperate woman who claims her life is in danger and needs his passport. His decision to do so sets off a chain of events that takes us to the end of the film. Chuck and Lyle end up entangling themselves with the CIA, and find themselves in the middle of a complicated scheme to unseat the current Emir of Ishtar. Secret identities, double-crosses and good times with weapons ensue.

This complicated, yet simple, plot was meant to be an intentional riff by May on the old Bing Crosby-Bob Hope ROAD TO… vehicles, where the two stars usually played silver-tongued conmen who find themselves tossed around to faraway lands, and typically tended to be meta-riffs on popular genres of the time (desert adventure or jungle films, for instance). In a meeting with Beatty, May pitched her idea of doing a variant on that old series, set in the Middle East and starring Beatty.

I found Beatty’s appearance in this movie curious, since it didn’t seem like his kind of role, bordering on miscasting. It turns out that he was returning a favor to May, who had done extensive uncredited rewrites on REDS, as well as being the co-writer on the script for HEAVEN CAN WAIT. He decided to move forward with ISHTAR after he believed himself capable of providing the kind of protection May never had between her set and her studio.

Hoffman wasn’t as easily sold. As it turns out, his initial involvement was also as a result of a movie May had done uncredited rewrites on, 1982’s TOOTSIE. After eventually turning down ISHTAR, he’d go on to give May another shot, and met with her and brought along his creative consultant, playwright Murray Schisgal. They both felt that the movie shouldn’t leave the initial New York setting, believing the Morrocan stuff to overwhelm the rest of the film. Although he was hesitant, Hoffman ended up only doing the film after Beatty convinced him May would make it work.

In a fashion sadly typical of Elaine May films, the shoot quickly became chaotic. Columbia already had quick trigger fingers due to May’s reputation from MIKEY AND NICKEY for shooting much more film than is typically needed.

Many of ISHTAR’s behind the scenes issues were beyond their control. The decision was made to shoot the majority of the film in the actual Sahara Desert, and principal photography began just as Israel began bombing Palestine; the infamous murder of Leon Klinghoffer soon followed. Talk about your bad timing. There were also issues stemming from cultural differences between the American film crew and the Moroccan locals; there’s an infamous (possibly untrue?) story about one of the animal trainers dragging his feet on purchasing a blue-eyed camel, only to find out the camel was eventually eaten by its owner. Also, Morocco understandably didn’t really have the infrastructure to support a Hollywood film crew, and thus were unable to fulfill many requests and obligations.

Finally, Elaine herself seemed uncomfortable in the desert setting, and ended up fighting with people constantly. Some of her targets included: Warren Beatty, her cinematographer Vittorio Storaro, Warren Beatty, her editing crew, and Warren Beatty. Seriously, May and Beatty fucking hated each other by the end of this thing. Beatty felt like he was stuck on this shoot that was spiraling out of control because he had been doing it as a favor to a friend, yet he found himself disagreeing with May on almost everything. The budget ballooned, the release dates were delayed, and a public catastrophe was born.

As they often say, the story of what went wrong is twice as interesting as the product on-screen. The interesting and fraught friendship between Beatty and May takes this tragic arc that someone is almost definitely try to dramatize in a terrible prestige miniseries eventually. Maybe the people who brought us THE OFFER can take it on.

Well, enough about what went wrong behind the scenes. Was it all worth it? Was the initial dog-piling on this movie fair? What’s the tale of the tape?

Well, I regret to report that I didn’t like ISHTAR very much. I certainly don’t think it belongs on the Worst Movies Ever list; I’m not even sure it registers on the scale. But it is easily the least of May’s four directorial efforts and a strange misfire coming from someone who had such success at trying different genres and styles of films.

I didn’t go in wanting to hate it. I really did want to join the throngs that have sung the movie’s praises in recent years. But it turns out that I couldn’t, and it’s for one specific, overriding issue.

ISHTAR’s primary sin is that it just isn’t very funny.

There are moments here and there; I think the Paul Williams-penned songs succeed in their intentional ineptitude, and I greatly enjoyed how each Rogers and Clarke song is usually just a half-syllable off in meter, which causes it to hit the ear so badly. It’s also always welcome to give Charles Grodin a few moments to do his Grodin thing (although not nearly enough).

Finally, and crucially, I generally actually liked the characters of Rogers and Clarke. The way that they’re set up in the opening minutes (two inept songwriters who find each other almost by accident and end up losing their lives and savings as a result of their misfired ambitions), it seemed like a different movie entirely was in store. They’re broadly funny without feeling unmoored from reality. I would have been perfectly content if they had just stayed in New York and try to make it big (in this and this alone, Hoffman and I share some common ground).

Alas, we’re out of the United States by the twenty minute or so mark, and we arrive in the fictional Ishtar, on their way to Morocco to head to their first paid gig. Comedic hijinks ensue and they almost all fall flat onscreen. I can’t quite put my finger on why nothing seems to work, but work they do not.

I keep thinking about how Elaine May meant for this to be a tribute to the ROAD TO movies, a noble pursuit that somehow seems to have gotten lost somewhere down the line. I’m not the world’s foremost expert on those Hope and Crosby vehicles, but I can say that the best of the ones I’ve seen, ROAD TO MOROCCO, stood out from the others due to its actually quite catchy tunes and its wildly playful sense of humor; Hope and Crosby continuously make jokes about themselves as people, including their contract status at Paramount and their desire for Academy Awards. It’s a blatant break in character, but the actual characters don’t really matter in ROAD TO… films. Nor do the plots, as they’re usually merely flimsy excuses to get the pair into the next set-piece, usually involving Dorothy Lamour (Hope and Crosby usually comment on the thinness of the plots as well).

ISHTAR seems to have landed on the opposite philosophy, working very hard to establish Hoffman and Beatty’s characters (to some significant degree of success, as mentioned above) as well as an increasingly complicated plot. None of the trademark playfulness that one might expect from a ROAD TO riff is present here. It’s a little surprising to me that May replaced that with spectacle (that being said, Dustin Hoffman DOES fire off a rocket launcher in this, which is something), since her improvisation background would seem to be a great fit for that comedy style.

As a result, I find myself unable to reclaim ISHTAR as a slept-on classic. Instead, it’s merely a sad end to a far-too-small directorial body of work from one of the funniest people on the planet. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that Elaine May never directed anything else again. However, her legacy is definitely secure, having just this year received an honorary Oscar. She has a resume full of creative credentials longer than just about any other living person in Hollywood.

I don’t blame her for not returning to the director’s chair. Would you?




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FOUR WEEKS OF MAY: THE HEARTBREAK KID

Men are the worst.

It’s a thought as old as the earth itself, and the reality of that statement is something that society is still currently trying to grapple with in real time (and maybe not doing such a wonderful job at it).  But, look, it’s true.  Certainly everyone gets anxious and insecure at some points in their lives.  But there’s something about how specifically male insecurity and anxiety manifests itself that can be simultaneously interesting and infuriating.  It seems like female insecurities manifest in damage done insularly, the type done to the self.  Male insecurity tends to lead to outward damage, the type that’s done to other people.

Hilarious, right?  We all laughing yet?  

I say all this because, on rare occasion, you happen to run into a film from fifty years ago that shines a light on this concept of male insecurity so succinctly and precisely WHILE somehow managing to stay sharply, acidly funny and oddly poignant throughout its 106 minute runtime.  

Naturally, it was directed by a woman.

Let’s dive into THE HEARTBREAK KID.

THE HEARTBREAK KID (1972)

Directed by: Elaine May

Written by: Neil Simon

Starring: Charles Grodin, Cybil Shepard, Jeannie Berlin, Eddie Albert

Released: December 17, 1972

Length: 106 mins

Lenny Cantrow (Grodin) and Lila Kolodny (Berlin) are a pair of newlyweds a few days into their cross-country honeymoon.  Lenny isn’t feeling so great about it, now that the luster and shine of the wedding is starting to fade.  He’s noticing things about Lila he didn’t before.  Her sloppy way of eating egg salad, for instance.  Or the way her skin easily burns in the sun.  The reality of “til death do us part” is starting to hit him in his soul, and it’s starting to eat at him immensely not even a week in.

Once he runs into Kelly Corcoran (Shepard), a beautiful, young, leggy blonde, on a Florida beach, Lenny becomes bound and determined to woo her, in defiance of all logic or respect to his new bride.  Kelly seems to be into him, but her father (Albert) remains completely unimpressed.  THE HEARTBREAK KID becomes a long race to the altar as Lenny has to maintain his pursuit of Kelly while still keeping his honeymoon going smoothly.  The script, a Neil Simon adaptation of a Bruce Jay Friedman short story, firmly establishes its main character as an unabashed skunk, a man who only decides to talk to his wife about ending things once he has no further choice, a man who weaves lies that barely make any sense and only skate by because his bride idealizes the idea of being married to him beyond all reason (in the way only the young can).

There’s no real getting around it: Lenny is a goddamn monster who’s reckless with the heart of a woman whose only definable crime is being normal.  However, he’s nevertheless presented with honesty and wit.  Thus, you as the audience are faced with the sudden reality of, if not actively rooting for Lenny, at least sort of hoping he gets egged on so you can watch him dig himself deeper and deeper into his scheme.

This kind of duality (serious scenes presented as comedy)  is sort of typical of Neil Simon material.  Take something like BAREFOOT IN THE PARK, a play about a pair of newlyweds who are essentially fighting the entire time.  The thing about stuff like this is that the only way for it to work is for everybody involved in the production (actors, producers, the director, costume department, everybody) to be on the precise wavelength that the script demands AND have the ability to execute on it.  In the example of BAREFOOT, if the fights are played too realistically, this comedy all of a sudden becomes an unpleasant, uncomfortable drama.  Play it too over-the-top “funny”, however, and the play collapses entirely, the characters nothing more than broad and un-relatable caricatures.

So it goes with THE HEARTBREAK KID, which is threading such a small and tight needle.  The entire movie hinges on Lenny being driven almost entirely by id and the need for sexual conquest and validation WHILE still staying likable to your audience (I wouldn’t be surprised if some people feel the movie doesn’t actually thread it successfully).  His complete and total terror at staring down the barrel of forty or fifty years with his new bride and his weaving of his increasingly outrageous lies to her in order to keep spending time with Kelly should be funny, rather than reprehensible (which, of course, it is). 

This requires absolutely nailing your choice of leading man.  If he plays the nastiness too realistically, the movie becomes unwatchable.  However, if the comedy is approached as too broad, the movie flatlines.  Although we laugh at him, we ultimately have to believe and feel Lenny’s internal tension, or else there’s no reason for him to be doing what he’s doing.  It’s a pivotal casting decision.

Enter Charles Grodin.

We’ve talked about Grodin in this space a little bit before.  Specifically, I’ve previously talked about him hosting the 1978 Halloween episode of Saturday Night Live, maybe one of the greatest nights of the show ever (the whole breakdown is here, but the TL;DR version is that the whole episode hinges on a meta bit that Grodin missed dress rehearsal and now has to fumble his way through all of the night’s sketches).  He also appeared in movies that have either become cult favorites (CLIFFORD) or childhood staples (BEETHOVEN).  However, I’d argue he made the bulk of his career off of perfecting a “prickly asshole” persona on late night shows, sparring with Letterman and Conan for years.

Well, you could consider THE HEARTBREAK KID the starting point of that acidic persona.  I legitimately don’t know who else could have done this role, either now or in 1972 (I know there’s a 2007 Farrelly Brothers remake starring Ben Stiller.  I haven’t seen it; it’s possible it’s good, though I have my doubts.  But I don’t think that Stiller is quite right, as funny as he often can be).  Grodin just presented himself as so unassuming and normal, at least in relation to other movie stars at the time.  But he also knew how to express every thought and gear turn inside his head without doing much with his face at all.  This kind of thing allows him to practically get away with murder, comedically speaking.  He makes breaking a woman’s heart and bringing her to tears seem like the funniest shit you’ve ever seen.  That’s comedy magic, baby. 


Grodin as Lenny is funny in the way that Jason Alexander was funny as George Constanza.  You both simultaneously hate his guts AND eagerly await him continuing to spin plates in anticipation of everything collapsing.  Actually, I thought about George and Seinfeld a lot while watching THE HEARTBREAK KID.  Doesn’t the whole “I got into an accident last night” set of lies feel like a George bit?  Doesn’t explaining his beach tan away by explaining he had to sit on the steps of the courthouse for hours feel like something only a Constanza could have come up with?

The supporting players are also perfectly cast. Cybill Shepard I’ve long been familiar with, and she’s someone I honestly hadn’t thought much of. But she makes for a good straight woman against Grodin’s schemer. Kelly’s role is essentially to be this perfect girl for Lenny to lust after, but I think it’s crucial that the movie presents her as a real person. She goes to a good school, she’s obviously intelligent, and her sexuality is implied rather than displayed, which prevents her from just being a sex object. This is where I think May’s touch and eye becomes so crucial; the scene where Lenny and Kelly play the “no touching” game could have easily been presented as salacious and leering in a time when mainstream movies were starting to push and experiment with how sex would be displayed on camera (same year as LAST TANGO IN PARIS!). Instead, everything is cut just so that you remember more happening than there really is.

I wasn’t familiar with Jeannie Berlin at all, to the point that I didn’t know until sitting down to write this that she is in fact Elaine May’s daughter, which clarified a lot for me.  In fact, this is the only major work I’ve seen her in.  She’s great!  Again, Lila’s only real sin in Lenny’s eyes is just not being an unattainable supermodel.  She gets bad sunburns!  She’s a little messy!  (One might argue that Lenny considers her too Jewish, but I am not nearly adept enough at untangling the film’s Jewish/WASP politics; the good news is that there are plenty out there who are, and you should definitely give them a read.)

Like many in this film, the role of Lila is precise and deceptively difficult.  “Be normal” might be the single most difficult assignment a performer can get.  You’re basically telling an actor not to act.  Yes, it’s funny to see her miss a spot when she’s wiping her mouth, but the only way it remains so is if she’s nonchalant about it.  Berlin understands that so well, and plays the reality of everything so honestly that it makes Grodin’s frustration during that famous dinner scene so much funnier.  It’s no surprise she earned a Best Supporting nomination at that year’s Academy Awards.

Eddie Albert also snagged a Best Supporting nomination, eventually losing out to Joel Gray for CABARET (I mean, what are you gonna do?).  Albert’s role is equally as non-flashy as Berlin’s, and I have to imagine the Oscar nom was built off the back of the scene at the end where Mr. Corcoran tries to buy Lenny out and make him go away (“I’m a brick wall!”).  It’s a great scene, Lenny’s “final boss” of sorts, as the one guy he can’t bullshit.  Albert, of course, is probably best known from GREEN ACRES and movie work like (oh hey!) ROMAN HOLIDAY.  His veteran presence is wonderful here, too, as you keep waiting for him to take a swing at Grodin.

The thing about this movie, which is sort of a hard thing to admit, is that May and Simon’s analysis of the fragility of the male ego is so on point.  I’d venture to guess there’s a variant out there in the multiverse of every man on the planet that approaches life the exact same way that Lenny does here.  Sometimes the immediate next step of committing to a goal is dealing with the regret of having committed to it.  The only real way for men to win at life is to make sure that version of him remains in the multiverse.  Lenny makes it his prime timeline.

To that end, the movie surprises by not necessarily ending in a total collapse for Lenny (perhaps that’s the biggest difference between him and the George Constanza character).  Actually, he more or less accomplishes his goal of winning Kelly’s hand in marriage, even resisting her father’s bribery offer.  Even the presumed punchline of Lenny immediately having a panic attack about spending his life with Kelly, the allure of a lusty romance forever punctured, doesn’t quite materialize.

Instead, the dark joke of THE HEARTBREAK KID ends up being that Lenny’s success is pyhrric.  Yes, he’s secured his beautiful 22-year old bride, and he’s now a part of an elevated society that would previously have been unavailable to him.  But…now what?  He can’t exactly BS his way through the Corcoran circle of family and friends like he could with Lila and her family.  He’s not impressive in any way.  Nobody except maybe Kelly really likes him.

By the end of the movie, he’s functionally completely alone, without another card to play or bullet to fire.

As far as the “Elaine” of it all, it seems by all accounts that the production of THE HEARTBREAK KID was relatively smooth sailing, at least as compared to the trouble she had with A NEW LEAF, and the all-out chaos that would ensue with MIKEY AND NICKY and ISHTAR.  Maybe that’s why it feels so tight and efficient in comparison to her first film (which really only starts showing signs of meddling towards the very end anyway).  There’s a clarity of thought that the movie is able to see through from start to finish.  I have to wonder if this movie would have worked at all without her comedic sense at play here.  

As it stands, I loved it, and it might be a new entry in my “Favorite Movies” category.  For a couple of bucks on Youtube (or for free; there are a couple of champs who have uploaded it in full on that site), you can enjoy it as well.

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