In the movies, violence is typically associated with rogue cops, malevolent masters of underworld empires, and maybe a stray Terminator or two. But recently, directors like Steven Soderbergh, David Cronenberg, and Ethan and Joel Coen have made dark and violent films about, of all things, authors. Like Cronenberg`s ”Naked Lunch” and the Coen brothers` ”Barton Fink,” Soderbergh`s ”Kafka,” which opened earlier this month, is a major motion picture about a writer who is anything but mainstream. Franz Kafka is certainly famous, but his name recognition comes as much from the coining of the word ”kafkaesque” to mean ”weird” or ”bizarre” than from readers hungry for ”The Metamorphosis” or ”The Castle.”
Similarly, William Burroughs, the author of ”Naked Lunch,” the literary launching pad that inspired Cronenberg`s film, is a well-known figure from the beat generation. Truth be told, however, lots of people who recognize him as an acerbic cultural icon have never been able to navigate the thick, hallucinatory prose that dominates his most unconventional canon. As for Barton Fink, well, he`s not even a real writer, though he plays one in the movies.
These are only the most recent manifestations of Hollywood`s unlikely literary bent. ”Henry and June,” a movie about literature`s ribald raconteur, Henry Miller, was concerned more with sex than violence, and was the first film to earn the NC-17 rating. ”The Sheltering Sky,” Bernardo Bertolucci`s adaptation of the Paul Bowles novel, featured characters based on Bowles and his wife Jane, who are also the models for Tom and Joan Frost in
”Naked Lunch.”
The main character of ”Naked Lunch,” Bill Lee, played by Peter Weller, is a thinly veiled portrait of William Burroughs. Two beat generation colleagues, Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac, also are portrayed using different names. (Kerouac and Ginsberg also were depicted in 1980`s ”Heart Beat”.)
Bohemian writers aren`t the only ones filling the big screen-the rich and prolific Steven King created wordsmiths that became the dramatic linchpins of both Stanley Kubrick`s ”The Shining” and Rob Reiner`s ”Misery.” In the former, the author, frustrated by writer`s block, takes to attacking his family. In the latter, the writer, fresh from killing off the heroine of his series of romantic novels, is tortured by his ”favorite fan,” who refuses to let that character (or its creator) rest in peace.
The literary life, these films seem to say, can be lethal. If that`s so, perhaps Sylvester Stallone should revive his career by making Rambo a writer. Then again, directors-and writers-make a living being dramatic.
”Facing the blank page,” explains Soderbergh, who became a hot property when he came out of nowhere to write and direct ”sex, lies, and videotape,” ”is a writer`s way of knowing what it`s like to be God. That may be elevating the importance of writing, but in its own small way, it`s accurate. Especially if you care about what you`re writing.”
Soderbergh, incidentally, is quick to point out that ”Kafka” is neither a biography nor a film about a writer, but a murder mystery that happens to involve a guy with literary aspirations. ” `Kafka` ends where Barton Fink and Naked Lunch picks up,” says the director. ”It`s a prequel to his life as a writer.”
”Of the movies I`ve seen about the process of writing,” continues Soderbergh, ” `Naked Lunch` was most able to accurately capture the particular brand of torture and schizophrenia that occurs when I try to write. I just found it uncanny in that regard. Plus I love any movie when somebody busts into a room and demands somebody`s typewriter.”
Cronenberg told Rolling Stone that his principal interest in bringing
”Naked Lunch” to the screen was that he saw a parallel between putting an idea on paper and on film. ”What is writing but trying to order reality?”
said Cronenberg. ”Trying to make order out of chaos? To come to understand phenomena that are not really susceptible to understanding. To creating your own reality. To coming to terms with your own reality. I deal with this in all my films. All of my characters do this sort of thing. And here I`m coming to a distilled version of it, i.e., a writer. And the fact that it`s a dangerous thing to do cinematically-because it`s difficult to do it well-is part of the thrill. Just like the difficulty in doing Burroughs, because it`s an impossible book to film, is part of the thrill.”
Films about writers also suggest that they are dangerous choices for romance. In ”Kafka,” Theresa Russell plays a political dissenter who, after befriending Kafka, is detained by sinister scientists who open up her skull to study her brain. In ”Barton Fink,” the character played by Judy Davis is found dead as soon as she has an affair with Fink.
Davis plays dual roles in ”Naked Lunch”: Bill Lee`s wife, who is shot in the head after the couple engage in what they call ”our William Tell routine.” And Joan Frost, who, in a later, presumably imagined scene, recreates that cathartic moment with Bill Lee.
Soderbergh has no interest in writing everything he directs, and part of the reason might be that, like the characters in these movies, he doesn`t see the process as all that enjoyable. Sometimes, however, a writer has no other choice.
”There`s an idea circling around me now,” says Soderbergh, evoking an airborne vulture, ”that I think is going to come down and dig in its claws. At that point, I`ll sit down with no choice but to get it out.”
