P.O.V. The Screenwriter

It’s unusual for a screenwriter to participate in the shooting of a movie, but at the invitation of director Clint Eastwood, I spent last spring on the set of “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” helping re-create events that occurred in Savannah, Ga., 15 years ago. There, every native has firm opinions on what really happened, where John Berendt, author of the best-selling book, erred or succeeded, who was guilty--and how they, personally, should have been consulted and, possibly, given a role in the film. . . .

In fact, many things about this film are unusual. Berendt’s tale and the resulting screenplay have all kinds of elements not usually associated with Clint’s oeuvre: drag queens, voodoo practitioners, blustery southern lawyers, New York journalists and antiques dealers (not to mention a bulldog).

Kevin Spacey, set to play Jim Williams--the antiques dealer and restoration expert accused of murdering his much younger lover in his grand mansion known as Mercer House--wanted to spend some time in Savannah before production to get a feel for the place as well as to begin his research and preparation to play a very demanding role. When I spoke with him via phone from L.A., he was sitting on the portico of a beautiful home he’d rented and already had his Savannah accent down pat. Australian actor Jack Thompson, playing Sonny Seiler, Jim’s defense attorney, arrived early as well, for like reasons. John Cusack, who signed on to play John Kelso, our New York reporter and protagonist, toyed with the idea of arriving early but Clint felt, since we were shooting his character’s arrival the first week, that he would be more wide-eyed if he were truly surveying Savannah for the first time. As for me, I rented a small, lovely home in the historic district, and prepared to help however I might. What follows are some of the diary entries I made during our six weeks of production in Savannah.

WEEK ONE

“JOHN, MEET JOHN. HE’S PLAYING JOHN”: The original intention was for John Berendt to adapt his own book, but he thought better of the opportunity when faced with the blunt fact that many things would have to be excised. As he later told me, “If I had written the script, the movie would be 25 hours long. That would be my perfect movie.” I arranged a dinner between John Cusack and John Berendt in Savannah. Cusack’s Kelso, though not Berendt per se, would share the same profession and outsider-turned-insider status with the author. It seemed to go well and Berendt is thrilled that Cusack is on board, what with the urbane wit and likable cynicism he brings to the role.

Berendt was also helpful with Alison Eastwood, Clint’s daughter, who is set to play Mandy Nicholls, a local singer with plans to one day open a piano bar. Though the essence of Mandy remains the same in the script as in the book, my intentions with the script are more in line with the casting of Alison in the role. In fact, Berendt freely admits that Mandy (a pseudonym) is a compilation character made up of several women that were involved with Joe Odom--a bourbon-swilling piano player who acts as the unofficial host and toastmaster for the city--in one way or another.

“STOP WRITING BUT KEEP TALKING”: Sonny Seiler, Jim’s defense lawyer, has been very helpful to me during my time writing the script and is anxious to hear my thoughts on scenes of mine he’s rewritten. That’s right, rewritten. Some writers, I suppose, might be livid at such a notion, but I like Sonny and think it’s a pretty ballsy move to learn screenplay format and take up dramaturgy. I use a couple of his suggestions and try my best to explain what does and doesn’t work in his version. If he had his way this would be a five-hour courtroom drama with Sonny playing himself in the role. Though I’m sure his fellow lawyers would be intrigued by such a film, we’re going for a wider audience than the barristers of Bouhan, Williams and Levy.

On my first trip to Savannah I commented to Sonny on what I perceived to be the gossipy nature of Savannahians. He waved a hand in the air and said, “Coach, in Savannah, gossip is hard currency. You can spend it, you can dine out on it. People are just paying bills.” I loved the line so much I stuck it in the script and gave it to Sonny’s character. I think Clint’s leaning toward giving him, as well as Sonny’s wife and daughter, roles in the film. This will, hopefully, shift his focus from writing to acting, at least for the time being.

THE TASMANIAN DEVIL: I meet the actor who’s going to play Sonny Seiler--Jack Thompson--for the first time, and he corners me with ideas he has for certain scenes. He’s doing Sonny’s script bidding but it’s charming because it tells me the time spent with Sonny has helped Jack to find the character he’ll play. I know he’ll make a great Sonny Seiler because in my conversation with Jack, as it always is with the real Sonny, I have trouble getting a word in edgewise.

AND AWAY WE GO: First day of production. Hundreds of bystanders surround Armstrong House, the actual offices of the law firm Bouhan, Williams and Levy, where Sonny is a senior partner. It’s a stylish structure that Jim Williams once owned and refurbished. It’s quite a coup to be shooting in the buildings where events occurred. These spots are not open for tours and fans of the book that see the movie will truly get their money’s worth, as they’ll visit the actual locations where events unfolded. Tourism is up anywhere from 20% to 50% since publication of the book in January 1994, and I can only imagine it will increase further when the movie hits the theaters.

We make it through the first scenes and John, Kevin and Jack perform admirably. Oh, and Uga, too. Uga is the University of Georgia bulldog mascot. Though we have a Hollywood-trained bulldog to use if necessary, Sonny, whose family has owned all five Ugas, is very high on us using the real dog. Though there are not a lot of doggy stunts, it’s rare to find an untrained animal who will perform for the cameras.

Of course, Uga V (he’s playing his father, Uga IV in the movie--shades of Lassie and Rin Tin Tin) is no normal house pet. He’s quite used to performing before 80,000 rabid Georgia fans every Saturday in the fall. His bloodlines show--he’s an ultimate professional, camera ready and walking and slobbering on command.

SNEAK PREVIEWS: There’s a film adage that warns one not to react too optimistically to great dailies. Whatever the result, the dailies look fantastic. Kevin and John have an amazing cat and mouse rapport that works on human, intellectual and sexual levels. John, a mixture of Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant (with a little Ray Milland thrown in), is a brilliant everyman.

In one scene Kevin (as Jim) responds to John with a single word, “Indeed,” and his reading somehow implies concurrence, condescension, amazement and fellowship, all in two syllables. It’s obvious that Kevin is achieving the difficult balancing act necessary to re-create Jim as the mysterious and multifaceted character he was in real life.

THE MOTHERSHIP HAS LANDED: The Lady Chablis (her legal name) has been given the difficult task of playing herself. You’d call Chablis a drag queen except for the fact that this is no act. She lives her life as a woman, 24/7. John Berendt met Chablis during his time in Savannah and she ended up being perhaps the most beloved character in the book. There’s always a question as to how a novice actor will perform under the duress of physical production. Clint has chosen a great first scene for her to get her sea legs--just a glimpse through a partially opened door and a line or two of dialogue. At first she’s a bit cold with the crew, probably unsure of how they’ll react to her, but then she realizes they’re there to help, to support, and she warms considerably. By the time we get to a traveling shot of her sashaying down the sidewalk, she’s on a roll.

WEEK TWO

A MEETING WITH KEVIN: Kevin and I had been trying for several days to get together to go over some of the dialogue and scenes in the script. Most directors would not approve of a writer working directly with an actor, but Clint--with whom I worked previously on “A Perfect World”--didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he encouraged the meeting.

We spent about four hours together on Kevin’s portico discussing the script, the scenes, the dialogue and the intentions expressed or implied. This is a film that clings to the mysterious and basks in the ambiguous. We’ve taken a rather “Rashomon” approach to the story, as the ultimate question regarding Jim is, “What really happened the night of the shooting?”

John Berendt wisely chose not to answer it, instead allowing the uncertainty of the events to lend an air of mystery, even whimsy, that pervades the book and makes it memorable. The difficulty in actualizing this ambiguity in script form is the reason I initially turned down the job. It’s also the reason I came back and begged for it.

Kevin told me that, to him, the most important line in the script is “I rather enjoy not knowing,” as uttered by Jim when describing the mysterious origins of a landscape painting. He’s right. It is, in a way, our mantra. It’s been my experience that in Savannah, after time, humidity and cocktails have done their work, truth is an extremely relative notion. Therein lies part of the old girl’s charm.

OTHER CAST: Another favorite character from the book is Joe Odom. Paul Hipp, a Tony-nominated actor who will be playing the garrulous Southern gent, arrives and instantly sweeps everyone into his maniacal wake. He is truly hysterical and energetic and almost at once you feel like he’s a crazy friend from your past. This is precisely the reason he’ll be a great Joe. Joe Odom represents a sort of Peter-Pan-at-Bacchanal mentality, refusing to grow up, staring down the rising sun, daring the orb to try and call a halt to an evening of debauchery.

Jude Law, a young, talented Brit fresh from Broadway and the film “Gattaca,” arrives. Danny DeVito, whose Jersey Films produced the latter, told me he’s just fantastic. He’s playing Billy Hanson, Jim Williams’ young lover (Danny Hansford in the book), and has that lean, street look that reads hustler. The first time I see him in character he reminds me of a cowering, whipped puppy with very sharp teeth--perfect for Billy.

WEEK THREE

ALISON: Until this film, Alison’s biggest role was in 1984’s “Tightrope,” when she was a child. She’s played smaller roles in other films and has continued to take class and study. It must be quite a challenge to walk onto your father’s set, with dozens of pairs of eyes around, and try to do your work.

Alison’s first scene wasn’t to be for a few more days, but rain intruded, causing a shift in scheduling and an immediate move across the street to Dixie’s Flower Shop, where Mandy works. The scene is one of flirtatious wordplay, where sex and relationships are discussed within the context of flowers--my version of a Hays Code scene.

Alison and Johnny have a rapport that will work well for their characters. She’s the reality touchstone for Cusack’s Kelso, willing to call him on things he’s afraid to admit, and giving him someone to communicate with about the oddities he’s witnessing. I know Alison must have been nervous but it didn’t show and the scene went well.

“AND ON Y’ALL’S LEFT . . . “: One would think that after a couple of weeks the crowd of onlookers would diminish--after all, watching a film being shot is tantamount to real time analysis of drying paint, especially when the shooting is being done indoors. But still they come, and wait, hoping for a glimpse of Clint as he walks to lunch. We’re also now an official stop on the tours as the companies seem to know exactly where we’ll be on any given day.

The local thirst for information borders on the ridiculous. To wit: I hear that bootleg copies of the script have, for the past several months, been hawked like contraband in back alleys, parlors and hotel bars.

A PLACE IN THE SUN: Two nights have been set aside for the interiors of Jim’s Christmas party. Thanks to Dorothy Kingery, Jim’s sister and the present owner of Mercer House, we have been allowed to shoot almost all of the Mercer House scenes in the actual rooms where they occurred.

Normally a production would hire extras for the party scene, put them in tuxedos and evening wear and shoot, but given the magnificence of the house and the valuable pieces of art and furniture it contains, we’ve arrived at a much better solution. There will be no extras--we’ve sent engraved invitations to specific Savannahians who, in years past, regularly attended Jim’s parties.

The result is astounding and when Kevin moves through the crowd, addressing them all by name, the party feels so real that you forget the lights and cameras. Local piano legend Emma Kelly, playing herself, tinkles the ivories and sings “Someone to Watch Over Me.”

The room is too crowded to watch from inside so I slip around back, to the portico, and peer through a window. It strikes me that I’m like Monty Clift in “A Place in the Sun,” somehow having gained a view to an elegant party to which I normally would not have been invited.

JIM’S RETURN?: A beautiful black cat that no one claims to own has been hanging around the set since we arrived at Mercer House. Though thin he doesn’t seem to be hungry, thirsty or in any special need of human compassion. The only people he likes are Kevin (and only when he’s in wardrobe as Jim) and Jim’s nieces, Amanda and Susan.

Thus we have decided, Amanda, Susan and myself, that the cat is actually Jim returning home to oversee the shoot. In fact we have to keep all the doors to the house closed lest the cat (as it has on several occasions) enter, head for the drawing room and lounge in Jim’s favorite chair. I’m not a real supernatural groupie, but I’ll surely convert when the cat starts drinking vodka tonics and smoking Tiparillos.

WEEK FOUR

“SAVANNAHIANS WOULD RATHER BE DEAD IN BONAVENTURE CEMETERY THAN ALIVE ANYWHERE ELSE”: The cemetery, which plays a large role in Berendt’s book and is on the cover, is also one of the film’s most important sets. Bonaventure is a beautiful necropolis where the storied and moneyed of Savannah live in perpetual care. We have three days of splits (shooting half day, half night) here.

At night the fog (Hollywood’s plus Mother Nature’s) rolls in and the lights paint a gorgeous picture--back-lit obelisks and monuments covered with the swaying shadows of the Spanish moss hanging overhead. Irma P. Hall, playing Minerva, the region’s resident voodoo queen and Jim Williams’ spiritual advisor, is simply awesome. Her voodoo research and preparation seem so complete that onlookers assume she’s a local find.

“THERE IT IS. TAKE IT.”--Bill Mulholland: No longer content to stand for hours for a glimpse of the stars, the locals now seem to have an unquenchable desire to raise an elbow with anyone associated with the movie.

To satisfy this need, the owners of the local establishments have rolled out the welcome mat. Actually the set cops (off-duty officers) are in on the deal. They’ll make arrangements with two or three places so that once wrap is called we can, en masse, gain entry. The owners of these establishments get on the phone and put out the word that “the crew” is coming.

Not unlike an airline double booking, there are invariably spots where we don’t end up. I can only imagine that the bartenders at these neglected gin mills grow rather tired of answering shouts of “How much longer?” And, for the place where we do light, there is a virtual guarantee of at least a week of solid business based on the speculative notion that the crew has found a favorite watering hole. Of course, if only crew and the occasional screenwriter show up the well will dry up faster than the Owens River Valley.

SPD BLUE: Nicky Kenney is one of the local cops who is on the set almost every day with us. He’s a pleasant guy with great sense of humor. And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make our time in Savannah memorable. Want to see Junior Brown in concert? Done. Want to play softball? Batter up--crew vs. cops. Savannah’s finest have been playing together for many years, so our ragtag bunch is no match for them the first time we hit the field.

Cusack, who is a pretty good athlete, and very competitive, suggests another game in a week or so, this time without women. Terribly sexist, I’m sure, but nonetheless true. The women on our crew (or at least the ones that played) are sure outs every time up. I must however admit that Alison is pretty fair and the location manager, Antoinette Levin, can hold her own. The cops agree and a date for a night game is set.

WEEK FIVE

COME RAIN OR COME SHINE: We shoot a scene where Kelso (Cusack), walking down the street, hears singing coming from a bar and steps inside to find Mandy (Alison) and Joe onstage. Earlier in the day, Alison and Clint joined forces with a local jazz quartet, drove to South Carolina and recorded “Come Rain or Come Shine” to use as playback.

I know Alison is not a professional singer so I was interested to hear how it came out. When the cameras roll and the playback begins, everyone smiles. She has a nice, natural easiness in her singing voice and the local musicians want her to join them for some gigs in the future.

When we break for lunch and the place empties, I hang around with Clint, Paul and the quartet while Clint sits down at the piano. He plays well and has a musician’s soul. It’s obvious when he touches the keys that it’s a safe, familiar place for him. George Clooney always has his basketball hoop on set to relax; I think Clint should lug a baby grand to wherever he’s shooting.

MY NEXT JOB?: Toward the end of the night at Churchill’s, a P.A. passed along an envelope addressed to me. Inside was rather lengthy letter from a nudist who lives next to Bonaventure cemetery. He wants us to collaborate on a movie set in Bonaventure that extols the virtues and mysteries of nudism--”Naked in the Garden of Good and Evil.”

He’s probably harmless but the letter is typed on one of those old manuals that serial killers always use in the movies--the letters i and e are a half space above the others and the n tilts. There are pseudo threats in the letter but I think he’s just railing against society in general rather than me in specific. Feeling a bit like Griffin Mill.

WEEK SIX

“EVERY LAWYER . . . CARRIES A PEASANT WITHIN HIMSELF.”--Unamuno, “Civilization Is Civilism”: We move back to the law firm for interiors. This was planned in conjunction with the state bar convention so that many of the lawyers would be out of town and not overly inconvenienced by our presence.

It seems that there was a protracted discussion among the firm’s partners as to whether they should allow us to shoot in the building. Sonny Seiler led the pro group, arguing that it would present the firm in a positive light and would be good for the movie to shoot in the actual place where events took place.

The con group, as best I’m able to discern, was worried about the firm’s image and the possibility of a perception in town that they were, at worst, kowtowing to, or at best, in league with, Hollywood types. When the day comes to shoot, lo and behold, some of the partners had skipped the bar convention and brought their families down to watch. The power of Clint.

LESS IS MORE: We’re shooting a scene that takes place outside of Joe Odom’s apartment between Mandy and Kelso. There’s only a small bit of dialogue between them in the script. Cusack has an idea that perhaps we can come up with an additional line to cement the scene. I sit down and come up with a few and he picks one he likes.

When the scene is rehearsed, Clint thinks for a second then says, “Maybe we shouldn’t make a meal out of this.” Translation: Let’s try it without dialogue. He’s right. It works better.

BIG GAME II: The city parks department has gone out of its way to prepare the field for our rematch against the Savannah P.D. We show up with our game faces on, sans females, and ready to somehow recapture our athletic reputations.

The game is much tighter than the first. Maybe we’re just more serious or perhaps Cusack’s right and the girls were dead weight. At any rate, our MVP has to be Paul Hipp, who shows up in an Elvis T-shirt, slides into every base (first, too) and chain-smokes even when he’s at the plate.

He collects several hits but his greatest contribution is in the field, not with his glove but with his mouth. He plays second base (the position he swears he played in the New York Broadway league a few years back) and spews forth “sissy” names for each cop that bats. At first they laugh it off and continue to blast balls over the fence, but by the third inning or so, they seem to be trying to smash the ball directly at Paul.

Almost to a man this ends in one of two ways--either they mis-hit the ball back to the mound or twist themselves like Casey as they swing mightily and create breeze. I’m in center field and laughing so hard that I misplay a Texas Leaguer that drops in behind Paul for a hit. We win the game, but I can’t be absolutely sure as the last two innings are reduced to something more resembling Kabuki theater than softball.

GALA AFFAIR: There is an old theater in Savannah, the Lucas, that is being refurbished, at high cost, to its past splendor. There is hope the renovations will be completed in time for a Savannah premiere.

While this is doubtful, Clint agrees to help with a fund-raiser benefiting the theater as well as the local boy’s club. He makes a habit of this whenever he shoots a movie somewhere. It’s a smart and heartfelt thing to do and it serves as thanks to the local community for their hospitality as well as an apology for any inconvenience we may have caused during shooting.

There is speculation as to how many of the blue-bloods will actually attend, as in the past many forego such affairs or simply buy tickets and stay home. When I arrive and see the mob scene outside the theater, it’s obvious the fund-raiser is a success.

Clint and Jack Thompson make speeches and Kevin Spacey performs a monologue as Clarence Darrow. Sonny Seiler passes out UGA lapel pins and slaps backs. At the end of the presentation, it’s announced, to gasps from the crowd, that Kevin Spacey has donated $200,000 toward the ongoing Lucas Theater preservation, buying a box and dedicating it to the memory of Jim Williams. I imagine that half of Savannah is elated, the other half livid. The arguments which can never be won shall continue on.

JIM’S FINAL CLOSE-UP: A week or so after wrap I started to go through and catalog video interviews with the real Savannahians in the story for inclusion on the flip side of the DVD version of the film. After one with Jim’s sister, Dorothy Kingery, there was some footage of the aforementioned black cat, lying lazily on the sidewalk beside Mercer House, his chin up as a soft breeze washed over his face.

It seems the video cameraman, while loading up his gear, saw the cat and found its regal pose interesting in relation to the mansion. When I ask the cameraman, who knew nothing of the cat’s purported former life, about the footage he told me, “He [the cat] looked at me like I was trespassing. Like he owned the place or something.”

Indeed.