THE CUTTING EDGE

One of the more persistent questions in the Hollywood filmtown in recent months is . . . whatever happened to “9 1/2 Weeks”? Starring Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke as lovers (shown below), the movie is based on a novella about a 9 1/2-week relationship that goes from hearts and flowers to blindfolds and handcuffs. The project went through four studios and at least 10 screenplay drafts and LOTS of editing. Directer Adrian Lyne (“Flashdance”) says the film “goes right to the edge.” Now MGM/UA will release the film Friday--many months late and after much anxiety.

Legends run rampant through Hollywood history--and what seems to be another one opens this Friday at a theater near you.

It’s the extra-sensory “9 1/2 Weeks,” a film that dwells almost exclusively on a relationship that is almost exclusively centered on sexual pleasures. Rumors and gossip about its content have already made it infamous within the movie industry.

It has made an arduous journey through Hollywood--involving four studios (Tri-Star Pictures pulled out just three days before filming was to begin; MGM/UA ended up with it), a veritable army of producers, at least 10 screenplay drafts and an editing/re-editing process that has taken 18 anguishing months. Along the way it’s undergone a metamorphosis.

Ordinarily, Hollywood is at the cutting edge between good taste and bad taste--some might say it often flies over the edge. But in this case the original story line about a sadomasochistic relationship was so hot to handle that it was gradually desexed in an effort to make it more palatable for theater owners and mainstream audiences.

The movie is based on the 1978 novella “9 1/2 Weeks” (subtitled “A Memoir of a Love Affair”), about a woman who becomes sexually dependent on a man who asks her to wear blindfolds and handcuffs and who likes to hit her in the face and watch the bruises form. Written under a pseudonym (Elizabeth McNeill--and nobody’s telling her real name), the book begins with the words:

“The first time we were in bed together he held my hands pinned down above my head. I liked it. . . .”

The torrid and dangerous 9 1/2-week affair of passion is played out by Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke and directed by Adrian Lyne, his first film since the flashy “Flashdance.” Lyne readily acknowledges that the provocative sexual content “goes right to the edge.”

Producers and executives kept using the word “accessible.” They wanted a movie that would be hot and commercial. And so, despite recurring rumors that it was headed for an X rating, it’s an R. Originally set for release this past summer, the $13-million film has been extensively edited in order to defog some of the steamier scenes.

“Accessibility” being what it is, not all of the controversial elements from the book have made it to the screen. The handcuffs are gone--except for a pair that are seen briefly during a striptease routine. The blindfolds are gone--except for a pair that Basinger wears when Rourke teasingly feeds her all variety of foods (the sequence gives her taste buds a workout).

A scene that finds Basinger and Rourke committing a stickup in an elevator (Basinger is urged on by Rourke) was removed--because test audiences found it unsavory. (After holding a switchblade to a terrified businessman’s throat, Basinger seductively kisses him.)

Also, where the book had a dark ending, with the heroine suffering an apparent breakdown (“. . . my sensation thermostat has been thrown out of whack . . . sometimes I wonder whether my body will ever again register above lukewarm,” she says), the film ends more upbeat, with the woman resolving to leave her lover.

And as is sometimes the case with such provocative content, European audiences will see more than we do. Thus, a kinky love scene in an alleyway will play longer for Europeans. They will also see a sequence that we won’t--a bizarre sort of play-acting scene in which Basinger crawls on the floor, picking up money to bring to Rourke, who seems to be trying to see how far he can humiliate her. That sequence caused such a furor at an MGM test screening that Lyne, by his own admission, “just about had to run for my life.”

Despite the changes (which would seem to douse some of the film’s fires), MGM/UA, which is nervously releasing the film in five cities, doesn’t like talking about the picture. In a business in which talking about the pictures usually is the business, the studio was adamant in refusing to discuss plans for its promotional campaign. “It’s a matter of policy,” said one studio official.

Stars, who likewise usually hustle about promoting their films, also are apprehensive. “Mickey (Rourke) isn’t talking to anyone about the film. He just wants to let it happen,” said his publicist. Wondered a spokeswoman for Basinger (who has done several recent interviews on her career, but reportedly felt “uncomfortable” discussing the film in general--so she wouldn’t talk with Calendar), “Just what is it you want to ask Kim?” She added, “All this controversy. . . . Do you think it’s really worth it?”

The press has speculated about the film (long before any press screenings were held), calling it a “Yuppie sadomasochistic flick” (People magazine), a “controversial sex film” (Los Angeles Daily News) and a “story of how sexual attraction between two people develops into bondage and humiliation” (Advertising Age).

The film has been widely compared (in the media and the industry) to “Last Tango in Paris” (1973), in which middle-age Marlon Brando and baby-faced Maria Schneider are lovers who enjoy sex without love--or identities. (In the apartment where they meet, Brando tells Schneider: “We don’t need names here. You see, we’re going to forget everything we knew. All the people, wherever we lived. Everything outside this place is. . . .”)

Lyne is philosophical about the travails of “9 1/2 Weeks.” “It’s been a long haul, but, I guess nothing’s easy. And with this film, well, for God’s sake it is a bizarre story.”

Marketing sex is easier said than done. Especially when it’s on the screen.

Explaining how his agency created a campaign to sell the movie to foreign territories, Brian Fox, president of B.D. Fox & Friends, noted: “With any campaign, you try to project the assets and hide the liabilities. (Fox & Friends created the “E.T.” campaign showing the youngster peddling across the nighttime sky with E.T. nestled in the handlebar basket.)

“Right away, one of our assets was the director. We could say, ‘From the guy who brought you “Flashdance.” ’ But the subject had certain sensitive implications. At the time it was talked about as having a touch of bondage.

“The question is, can you make a campaign based on what goes on in the bedroom? Or would people would rather do it than see it.”

Hired (by Producers Sales Organization) before a single frame had been shot--with only an 18-page synopsis to go on--Fox said his initial reaction was of a film “that was almost going the limit.”

Cautionary problems: “We were walking a fine line between adult entertainment and implied pornography.” What the company came up with was an initial campaign that used “the psychology of sexuality. . . . We were marketing a concept--not an entire film. What we decided to emphasize was a relationship with a precarious balance.”

The first ad that was created was of a woman’s face--blindfolded. “But the people at PSO and Adrian Lyne objected, so we took away the blindfold and added a kind of New Wave slash across her eyes. The copy read: ‘A smoldering story of passion out of control.’

“We wanted to give a certain sense that something is wrong--that something is going on. . . .” The ad was used at Cannes.

Later, for Mifed (the international film market held in Milan), Fox had access to a 10-minute product reel. This inspired the ad of ice cubes melting seductively into the mouth of a reclining woman. The copy: “Their love took them beyond desire, beyond passion, beyond obsession.”

“We were going for something provocative--something that translated into a universal language,” said Fox, adding, “You know, there’s this misconception about foreign markets. There’s a belief that they’re sophisticated. People think ‘foreign’ and they think of France. But foreign territories also include places like Asia and Africa--where audiences are much less sophisticated than they are here.

“So what we had to do was look for a universal selling point. And we found it. Sex is something that men and women everywhere have been doing for a long, long time.”

With its story of obsessive love and a woman who becomes a prisoner of her sexual curiosity, “9 1/2 Weeks” seems distant kin to those sometimes uneasy movies about love between a woman and a determined suitor/captor.

Some of these movies--such as “The Collector” (1965), in which butterfly collector Terence Stamp cruelly makes a specimen of Samantha Eggar--have been critically admired. Others have been critically clobbered: “Tattoo” (1980) finds mad tattoo artist Bruce Dern kidnaping Maud Adams and using her body as a canvas. Some are relegated to obscurity: “Something Wild” (1961) explores the trauma of rape and loneliness, with suicidal Carroll Baker rescued by lonely Ralph Meeker, who then makes a prisoner of her. (Unlike the previous titles, this story leads to love between the principals.)

Most have a disturbing quality brought about by the idea that one person can force another to “fall in love” . . . or else.

It was the concept “of people pushing to the edge” that captivated Zalman King, co-producer and, with wife, Patricia Louisiana Knop, co-screenwriter of “9 1/2 Weeks.”

Perhaps best known as an actor, King starred opposite Lee J. Cobb in the 1971 TV series “The Young Lawyers” and appeared in the 1978 cult movie “Blue Sunshine” and “The Passover Plot.” The latter generated headlines in 1976, with its revisionist depiction of Jesus Christ as a young revolutionary who was not the son of God (but a participant in a well-orchestrated fraud). King has since executive produced “Roadie” and “Endangered Species.” Knop scripted the Ellen Burstyn film, “Silence of the North.”

It was the idea of a woman who had put aside the romantic ideals of her girlhood, to concentrate on her career, that captivated King. “Romance was secondary in her life. But, she was still vulnerable to those ideals,” said King. “And then, along came this man who was just the opposite. He never discussed his career. What he wanted was a woman who could be his equal in every way. She became his focal point.”

“It’s such a romantic concept,” added Knop. Seated across from her husband in their Santa Monica home, she admitted that when she first read the book she did not share her husband’s enthusiasm: “I found it frightening--what that woman went through. But we kept talking about it, and I became more fascinated. Also, I couldn’t believe all the excitement the book was causing. There was so much anger about it.”

Partnered with TV producer Frank Konigsberg, King bought the rights. The deal that led to the making of “9 1/2 Weeks” becomes very convoluted at this point--”the strangest deal that’s ever been done,” according to co-producer Antony Rufus Isaacs.

During a refreshingly candid phone conversation, Isaacs gave a blow-by-blow description of how “9 1/2 Weeks” came about.

Briefly, it went like this:

King showed an early script to Isaacs, who had relocated in Los Angeles after running a successful London-based production company. (His credits include BBC dramas and commercials.)

“I had a read--and I flipped,” said Isaacs. “It was an extremely concise and hard screenplay.” He bought out Konigsberg’s interest. (Said Isaacs: “I was like an angel flying around with a large checkbook.”)

King hoped to direct the picture. But, explained Isaacs: “I convinced him to move sideways. I felt we needed a ‘name.’ It was all totally amicable.”

Isaacs approached the director he believed was tailor-made for the project: Bob Rafelson. “To me, he was what ‘9 1/2 Weeks’ was all about. He is definitely an American director--with a capital A . I saw this as a distinctly American story.”

According to Isaacs, Rafelson (who last directed the 1981 remake of “The Postman Always Rings Twice”), agreed to do this one. But Isaacs couldn’t get a studio to agree to Rafelson. “I couldn’t sell the idea (of Rafelson and the film). It was a crime.”

The studios were interested in Lyne--then flushed with “Flashdance” fame. Lyne came aboard when Keith Barish (“Sophie’s Choice,” TV’s “A Streetcar Named Desire”) entered as co-executive producer. (Barish’s entry into the arena is also complex: “Do you mind if I don’t go into all of it?” asked Isaacs.)

Isaacs said he has “great admiration” for Lyne, whom he then knew as a kind of competitor, since both had owned commercial-making companies in London.

“He wasn’t the director I’d imagined, but, his being English and all that sort of stuff, well, it made it sound interesting.”

By this time, Jacqueline Bisset and Sam Shepard were the hoped-for stars. That is, Isaacs and Rafelson wanted them. (Bisset agreed to do the film; her likeness was on posters that helped to sell the film to foreign territories at the Cannes Film Festival in 1983. Shepard hadn’t yet been approached.) But Lyne had casting ideas of his own.

He chose Basinger over several top New York models and Isabella Rosellini. (After roles in many “small” films, Basinger was getting attention for a Playboy spread in which she bared all and as a James Bond girl in “Never Say Never Again.”

Rourke was suggested by King. Impressed by his work in “Rumble Fish,” Lyne agreed.

With Lyne in, the film got the green light at Tri-Star. (It was championed by Tri-Star production consultant Sydney Pollock, whose secretary said he didn’t want to speak with Calendar about his involvement.) The film had earlier been considered by 20th Century Fox, where it was imperiled by a change of management, and by a then-fledgling Orion Pictures.

But just three days before shooting was to begin, “creative differences” between Lyne and the studio brought the project to a grinding halt.

Said Isaacs: “Adrian had to submit to two months of continued meetings with (Tri-Star) executives. They kept at him (asking for changes). I have tapes of all the meetings and I tell you, darling, they would make you laugh. . . .”

What Tri-Star wanted, said Isaacs, was for Lyne to “soften” the material. That included trimming several scenes--an encounter between Rourke, Basinger and a prostitute in a seedy hotel and a surrealistic sequence in a Times Square porno theater. (Both are in the completed version.)

Because the cast and crew had been assembled, Isaacs had to find new financing-- immediately. He did. Again, the deal is complicated.

Isaacs went to business mogul Sidney Kimmel (Jones Apparel Group, Famous Amos Cookies, etc.), who had just set up Jonesfilm. Within 48 hours, Kimmel and his business associate-partner Alan Salke agreed to finance the film. Because they had earlier been involved in a deal with PSO, which had been handling the sale of “9 1/2 Weeks” to foreign territories, they struck up a deal with PSO.

In a sense, PSO became the film’s “studio.” MGM/UA would later enter as the domestic distributor.

“Got all that?” Isaacs laughed. “I can say in all certainty that my first picture in America was an extraordinary experience--a baptism in fire.”

With the deal (phew!) finally completed, production began in New York April 30, 1984.

By this time, said one crew member (who asked not to be identified), the mood was “slightly harried.” The reason? “I think everyone was a little skeptical of the subject matter. They didn’t know if Adrian could pull it off.”

Described as a “perfectionist” on the set, Lyne went to lengths to achieve the film’s “look.” Said the crew member, “He wanted the film to look almost black and white. So each scene was meticulously set up. He used a lot of smoke, and everything was diffused. Then, he’d add just a touch of red--as if it was a touch of passion.”

Meanwhile, there was more than a touch of trouble between the two stars. (PSO chairman and president Mark Damon told Daily Variety the shoot was “a highly charged, emotional situation.”)

“It got so stupid, they wouldn’t even get into the lift (elevator) together,” recalled Isaacs. (As a result, one star would ride the elevator, while the other waited for its return.)

Asked if anything particular had happened to sour the working relationship, Isaacs said, “There was nothing that brought it about, really. They just never really liked each other, period. She (Kim) said that kissing him was like kissing an ashtray. He said he wanted someone sexier. It was crazy.”

Interviewed by a Calendar reporter during the release of “Year of the Dragon,” Rourke said of the “9 1/2 Weeks” experience, “I was fascinated by the script--I liked the mystery and the dialogue in it. It reminded me a lot of (playwright) Harold Pinter. It was something different I wanted to try.

“But, they never shot the original script and then, certain casting choices were made. . . .” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.

In the current issue of Interview, Basinger is asked how her relationship was with Rourke. Her one-word reply: “Fine.”

Shooting had wrapped by August of 1984. A year later, Hollywood was rife with rumors that the film might never be released. In fact, MGM/UA took it off its 1985 release schedule.

When a reporter visited the Century City offices of PSO in the summer of 1985, she was assured that the movie would see the light of the projection booth.

Flanked by PSO’s Mark Damon and Eddie Kalish, senior vice president of worldwide marketing, director Lyne was candid (“Yes, we’re still editing. This isn’t the easiest movie to make or to cut”) and helpful (he went to the trouble of locating a “9 1/2 Weeks” novella and having it copied for a reporter).

But he was apprehensive.

Reports were circulating that “9 1/2 Weeks” tested poorly (the first test screening was held at MGM in March), and was being extensively re-edited.

The trio was emphatic: Nothing could be further from the truth. What had happened, they concurred, was a desire (from test audiences) for “more character motivation” from Basinger’s character.

“Audiences have asked (by filling out response cards) for more clarification,” said Kalish, who explained that a first-person narrative was being written, to provide just that. (The narrative was later abandoned.)

Shrugging off the release postponement, Damon added, “If we had opened this summer, we might have gotten lost in all the kids’ flying spacecraft.”

“Look,” added Lyne, “sexuality is a real tough thing to deal with. People’s public posture can be very different from what they do in private.

“This film has exacted some fear and embarrassment (from audiences) because people are afraid to come to terms. They don’t want to face themselves.

“But the fact is, this movie is about a kind of universal desire. I mean, we haven’t all lived it. But a lot of us have secretly imagined being like the man or the woman in the movie. It’s a fascinating premise, isn’t it--to change radically, in a sexual way, for 9 1/2 weeks?

“I think it’s something a lot of us might aspire to. After all, aren’t we all living a lie? I mean, I love my old lady and kid, but. . . .”

The interview was conducted just as “Rambo: First Blood Part II” was busting records. The irony was not lost on Lyne. “Can you believe it? You can’t see the act of procreation on the screen--but you can see the termination of life. Endlessly and endlessly.”

He sighed. “The thing is, you’re making it sound as if all the editing means the movie is in trouble--as if it’s covered in Band-Aids. But this is just the normal process of making a movie. You show it to people--again and again--until you get it right.

“We aren’t making this movie for 30 people at the Fox Venice. At the same time, this is a breakthrough movie. It hasn’t been done before.”

Added Damon: “In a sense, this is an experiment that’s taking place.”

Lyne nodded, then motioned to Damon and Kalish. “I’ve got to say that these people have been real supportive. Please, whatever else you write, could you put that in?”

He smiled, adding, “Look--I never thought this movie was going to be an easy route. And it hasn’t let me down.”

The “9 1/2 Weeks” story line changed dramatically from book to film.

The change began with the screenwriters. In particular, King and Knop revised the woman character. “We wanted this experience to open her--not destroy her,” said Knop. “We were so pro the woman--and so for her courage. We didn’t want her to be broken at the end.”

Added King: “The woman is going to be able to go on. The horrible thing about the man is that he can’t move--he can’t grow. He’s going to keep repeating the pattern.

“We thought the ending should be moving and sweet, with the strength belonging to the woman, because she saw that pattern and realized its dangers. She knew she had to break it or destroy herself.”

Together for 25 years (“since we were teen-agers--a lot of people aren’t that lucky,” smiled Knop), King and Knop believe that “9 1/2 Weeks” is, in part, about “breaking down walls.”

Said King: “I think people build walls around themselves, the longer they’re single. And I think it must be very frustrating for their relationships.

“The man (in the story) is surrounded by those walls. It’s a question of whether he can break through them.”

In the early scripts, King and Knop contrasted the contemporary, strictly sexual relationship with an enduring marriage of a couple that owned and ran the art gallery (in which Basinger’s character worked).

Lyne brought a different vision to the project--and co-screenwriter Sarah Kernochan.

“More accessible. That’s what Adrian wanted the movie to be,” said Isaacs, who said that scenes of the older couple, and all the S&M; elements were replaced by a scene at Coney Island, and seductions involving food and ice cubes. All offered the opportunity for visual artistry--Lyne’s critically hailed forte. But in the end, admitted Isaacs, the film that was made was not the movie he set out to make. Not that he’s upset: “Adrian knew what he wanted, and he did it. And I think he did a masterful job.”

“You’re not going to paint a sinister picture of all this, are you?” Lyne was at his farmhouse in the South of France when a reporter reached him by phone. He recalled the summertime interview (“I showed you some footage, didn’t I?”), and admitted that since that time the film had undergone a considerable change.

“This is the story of a downward spiraling, self-destructive nightmare that the girl has to escape in order to save herself. But if I’d been totally true to the original script, then in the course of the movie audiences would have lost sympathy for the character.

“Listen, she’s a bit off-kilter--in normal circles anyway. She is not straight down the line sexually. Well, audiences might not buy that kind of character. So I made some changes. Because if you have an audience turn off to your central character in the end, then you lose your whole movie. And you are dead and buried.

“So yes, I believe you must take audiences (at test screenings) seriously. Otherwise you’d be making 8-millimeter movies and showing them on your bathroom walls. You know what I mean?”

He laughed when asked if he felt relieved at having finally completed the film. “Somebody said about me, ‘Adrian, the funny thing about you is that if there are two ways to go somewhere, you will choose the path with the brambles.’ I think he was right.”