Book Review: Miss May Does Not Exist: The Life and Work of Elaine May, Hollywood's Hidden Genius

(Bought at Barnes and Noble on sale for $10) Carrie Courogen's detailed and enjoyable biography of the comedy legend Elaine May made me think of Orson Welles. Both May and Welles were regarded as geniuses who acted in, directed and wrote a successful early picture (A New Leaf for May and Citizen Kane for Welles), but never fulfilled this promising beginning--or so the conventional wisdom goes. Both were never really able to confine themselves to the Hollywood power structure in order to make the movies they wanted to. Were Welles and May too perfectionistic and individual to play ball with the studio bigwigs? Or were they just undisciplined brats? The Hollywood party line is that May overindulged herself while making A New Leaf and Mikey and Nicky, and had a reasonable comeback with The Heartbreak Kid since she concentrated on just directing Neil Simon's screenplay and did not act in it. But she blew all her goodwill capital on the colossal flop Ishtar which along with Heaven's Gate became a byword for bloated disasters. She saved her reputation by becoming Tinseltown's go-to script doctor, fixing up Tootsie, Reds, and Heaven Can Wait, only taking credit on the last named. 

Courogen makes the case that May's exile status was not entirely her own fault. Plenty of male directors like Kubrick, Scorsese, Bogdanovich and Coppola went way over budget, produced box-office stinkers and were given a second, and sometimes a third, chance. In the 1970s and 80s, you could count the number of women directors on the fingers of one hand and still have a few digits left over. But sexism was not the sole cause of her erratic movie work. She would film endless takes, spend months editing miles of footage and sometimes refuse to turn over the final print at the deadline, resulting in legal battles.   

The author also examines May's penchant to remain behind the scenes. Hence the title which was May's gag biography on an early comedy album with Mike Nichols. Her performing partnership with Nichols and their dynamic effect on comedy is carefully scrutinized. May was brilliant at creating new characters and improvising while Nichols edited their sketches and reigned her in. Once they split up, Nichols went on to become a top director while May struggled to maintain a solid career arc. She is a brilliant writer, but her playwrighting efforts were variable. Rarely more than one act, her works ran the gamut from wildly funny (Hotline, George Is Dead, Adaptation, Power Plays) to so-so extended sketches (Mr. Goggle and Mr. Preen, After the Night and the Music, Adult Entertainment, Taller than a Dwarf). As an actress she is also fantastic, winning a Tony Award for The Waverly Gallery and the National Society of Film Critics award for Best Supporting Actress for Woody Allen's Small Time Crooks. She was a highlight of Enter Laughing, Luv and Allen's woebegone Amazon series Crisis in Six Scenes.

May is finally getting the industry recognition she deserves with several life time achievement accolades including an honorary Oscar. Courogen's bio beautifully chronicles May's eccentric path.

Book Review: Cocktails with George and Martha: Movies, Marriage and the Making of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

(Received as a birthday present): My parents must have sensed something was up when I started quoting Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf at age 12. Edward Albee's scathing portrayal of a sadomasochistic marriage always intrigued me. I first saw the movie on TV and even with network edits, it was so powerful. Then I viewed the film on the big screen in college and was overwhelmed. This is probably Elizabeth Taylor's best performance and Richard Burton's too. Philip Gefter entertainingly exposes the struggles to get this explosive property on film, and the backstage conflicts, principally between producer Ernest Lehman and first-time director Mike Nichols. Gefter traces the origins of the play and the bohemian gay circles Albee inhabited. The impact of Virginia Woolf on popular culture is seismic as it tore off the facade of polite depictions of American marriage and showed the raging emotions underneath.

The film version effectively ended studio censorship and ushered in the ratings system so film language was no longer so restricted.

Of course, the meat of the book is the day-to-day travails of filming which were mainly a power struggle between Nichols and Lehman. The Burtons did not make things any easier. Their contracts stipulated they would not work before 10am and at 6 pm sharp, an assistant would show up on set with a Bloody Mary for each of them signaling they were through for the day. It's that kind of detail that makes the book fun to read. 

Encounters with Mike Nichols: A Book Review and Memories

Mark Harris' comprehensive biography of wonder boy director Mike Nichols is over 600 pages but reads like a shot. There are literally hundreds of top-name show-biz figures interviewed and quoted directly, giving a multi-faceted, complete picture of the subject's diversified career. (It is weird to read quotes from Scott Rudin, the now disgraced producer who has withdrawn from an active role in all of his productions due to his toxic behavior). Nichols was one of the few directors to achieve prominence in film, theater and TV, winning the top awards in all three plus a Grammy for his comedy recordings with Elaine May.

My earliest memories of Nichols were listening to those LPs with May. Their hilarious sketches recreated the push-pull war between the sexes as well as commented on contemporary foibles of society with satire by turns gentle and barbed. I used to do imitations of the pair at post-performance parties for the community theaters in which I acted. The one time I encountered May in person was at an awards event where her partner the legendary movie director Stanley Donen was a presenter. I told her I loved her and Nichols' routines and would do them at the drop of a hat. She said "Do one now." So I did the first few minutes of the Telephone sketch. She said, "It's amazing that you remember all that." I now wish I had done the Mother and Son sketch ("Hello, Arthur, this is your mother. Do you remember me?")

Forgotten Musical: 'Give a Girl a Break'

Marge Champion, Helen Wood and
Debbie Reynolds in Give a Girl a Break (1953).
Under another name, Wood would star in porn films in the 1970s.

Hollywood produced dozens of movie musicals from the late 1940s into the mid-1950s. Many such as Singin' in the Rain, The Band Wagon, Easter Parade, Summer Stock, A Star Is Born, and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, are regarded as classics by fans and scholars today. Yet there are many minor cinema tuners worthy of savoring. Give a Girl a Break (1953) is one of these. Largely forgotten, it's difficult to find. I had to pay $10 to order it in digital form on Amazon video. I watched it during the Christmas-Hanukkah-New Year's break. It's now obscure, but it has a simple charm and features a fascinating cast. I have a vague memory of watching it at my aunt's house in Philadelphia on the late Sunday afternoon TV movie when I was a kid.