Posted Aug 7, 09 01:42 PM
Killing Babies
Horror purists know the moment.
In The Exorcist, Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn) receives word that beau Burke Dennings (Jack MacGowran) mysteriously plummeted down the famed Georgetown stairs and snapped his neck.
Insert traumatic, Oscar-nominated reaction of denial. Our A-lister turns toward the stairs, eyes popped. Troubled daughter Regan (Linda Blair, superb) is flittering down the steps on all fours, upside down: The notorious "spider-walk." A bloody hiss punctuates.
But - wait a minute - 1973's audiences never saw that moment. For most, those "lemme see! I wanna see!" seconds were restored in the 2000 theatrical re-release, subtitled The Version You've Never Seen. Director William Friedkin debated writer William Peter Blatty over the excision - arguing that keeping it in would constitute a double climax.
Which I think is a load of crap.
No offense to Jack MacGowran's honed performance, but it’s not like we've lost a major character and are clapping to bring back Tinkerbell (Hello! Peter Pan's a GUY). The spider-walk IS the climax of Chris MacNeil's terrible, no good, horrible, very bad day...and witnessing it further drives an atheist to seek spiritual soothsaying.
Other cuts included a subtle onslaught of demonic faces appearing on walls and oven hoods for split seconds - which actually are reminiscent of vetoed early drafts of the The Omen script, deemed 'too obvious" (Ironically, the remake DID include them). And then there's the fellow priest/police lieutenant chat that does give the film a slight up ending, but only after the film feels as if it's already finished. Good calls.
All this underscores a necessary ruthlessness in film referred to as "killing babies." It's a (yes, distastefully named) practice of cutting favorite great lines, great shots, great performances, great etc. that, ultimately, are deemed as not advancing the greater cause of the film. Sometimes, this reflects story editing at the development level. I tracked down an early pass of The Shining at the Orlando Public Library. How cool was it to read that Stanley Kubrick planned for the hedge monsters coming to life at the finale.
Production adjustments and the ensuing rewrites often stem from lost or limited locations, rushed scheduling and thinning resources. The most notorious - and likely beneficial - example: The mostly off-screen shark of Jaws. I'd love to gander at Steven Spielberg's storyboards before the three mechanical "Bruces" started malfunctioning in the salt water.
Yet thanks to DVDs, we often get access to deleted footage from post-production. John Carpenter took us back to the sanitarium in Halloween for a discovery that was bumped into the sequel. In Aliens, it's crucial to eliminate an early scene that suggested the distress signal because (please see above) it's more powerful to forego the obvious. Let's face it, six pictures into the franchise (when you count two face-offs with Predators), images of double-mouthed creatures dripping corn syrup no longer carry shock weight. Even on the creepy-thriller-with-horror-overtones end, David Fincher filmed passages of Gwyneth Paltrow alone, late in Act III of Se7en, investigating a noise she heard outside her apartment. Intriguing. But put that conventional jigsaw piece back into the puzzle and you've completely tipped off the climax of a purely outside-the-box suspenser. I may actually buy a Blu-Ray player after all. Apparently, a new feature will be playing a movie with deleted scenes chronologically reinserted.
Oooh.
What it comes down to is a film on paper vs. the finished product. Before financing is secured, a project's narrative (hopefully) must flow and be bounce-a-quarter-off-it tight. But the intangibles on set - improv, actor nuance, happy accidents, pacing running long - can translate to story "padding." Who's to know before you shoot that a look can replace a written monologue?
The one thing that can't be anticipated is the audience reaction. And, in an Ivy League reduce-all-risk mindset, that includes test audience reaction. Fatal Attraction left sneak peek theater crowds riveted...and then angered by an ending that, although firmly set up with allusions to Madame Butterfly, worked in art houses but not multiplexes. No matter your opinion on the Diabolique-inspired climax, an unfortunate ax fell on some of Anne Archer's strongest work. Study the depths of mortified, betrayed, and yet still loyal love she draws when Michael Douglas is hauled off on murder charges. Keep watching when Archer painfully discovers Glenn Close's audio tape that will provide absolution. But alas, you are watching the "deleted scenes" submenu...
All wonderful service lost to a great cause.
Posted by Mike Kalvoda at 01:42 PM