My Mother Was Nuts (25 page)

They moved the production from New York to L.A., and shooting began on Monday. On day one, I realized that directing, as I always say, was a dog’s job. I arrived on the set at 5 a.m.—not my best time of day. My hair was a mess, and my eyes were red and tired. Before anything I gathered the crew—they were predominantly male and all experienced—and introduced myself. I let them know how I was feeling and where I stood.

“I need your help, and I’m open to suggestions,” I said. “I ask only one thing. When I make mistakes—and I will make them—please don’t go behind my back and make faces. Just come up and tell me.”

The first scene I shot was of the Russian exercise instructor who shows up on Terry’s computer screen. Bodybuilder Teagan Clive played the overbuilt Soviet fitness chick with the large shoulders and the nick on her leg. It was simple, and we made it up on the spot. I added a janitor in the background just to give the scene some additional business. The next scene was Whoopi walking down an alley, searching the garbage for a frying pan.

Whoopi was already in a cranky mood for any number of reasons, not the least of which was that she had a new director who had never directed, never mind that I came from TV. But that was her problem. I had my own. Things moved so slowly I thought I’d die. I mean it was the slowest fucking medium I’d seen in my life. They had to light, and they had to get the master, and then they had to go sideways, and then this way and that way. I thought,
Kill me now
.

On the second day, Whoopi pulled me into the makeup trailer. I guess she didn’t want to look at me the way I looked at that hour. I appreciated the gesture. But Joel walked in a few minutes later, looking for me, and asked what the fuck I was doing there.

“I’m getting made up,” I said.

“You’re the director,” he said.

“I can still look good,” I said.

One of the smartest things I did was to call everyone I knew and ask if they wanted to be in a movie. I brought in Jon Lovitz, Phil Hartman, Lynn Marie Stewart, Carol Kane, Jim Belushi, and my brother, who played a detective. I cast my daughter, Tracy, as the boss’s assistant. Movies are only written for the two people talking to each other, but you need other things going on, especially in a film like
Jumpin’ Jack Flash
, which took place mostly in this one big office in the bank. Things have to happen to keep it interesting, and I knew my friends could improvise and say something funny.

And they did. Lovitz was brilliant in the opening scene. His adlibbed chatter gave Whoopi and Carol Kane something to play off of. Phil Hartman did the same, chiming in as soon as the Russian exerciser appears on Terry’s screen. Suddenly, there was a whole world of interesting personalities. It’s like real life. It makes you want to watch. I kept adding friends, too. One day I called Michael McKean. I needed him to move Whoopi to her mark sometimes. Tracey Ullman, who was pregnant, also came in for that scene and played his wife.

I had learned how vital this is from my brother’s first movie,
Young Doctors in Love
. In it, he has a scene with two doctors talking about a diagnosis. A phone rings in the background. A midget answers it, says, “No, he’s not here,” but then can’t hang up the phone. And the whole scene becomes about his effort to hang up the phone. It’s a masterful bit of business.

We needed that because Whoopi, who is mesmerizing to look at and holds the screen every time she appears, had done her dog-and-pony
show for eight million writers, and so she was a little fed up with the whole deal. Matters weren’t helped when
The Color Purple
opened during the middle of production and she became the toast of the town. The last thing the poor woman wanted to do was get up at 5 a.m. when the whole world was inviting her to parties at night.

I understood, and she knew I understood, and I knew she knew. Nonetheless, one day her frustration boiled over and she said, “Do you know what it’s like doing something stupid over and over again?” Then she caught herself. “I’m sorry. I forgot who I was talking to,” she said. “Of course you know what it’s like.”

All her lines were written on the computer, but some days she was cranky and in the afternoons she was a little crankier. As a result, I hired my poor niece Penny Lee to write down every line Whoopi said and then watch the dailies and count how many motherfuckers, assholes, shits, and fucks she said. I had to know where I could cut to ensure the final version had the least cursing.

We shot and rewrote and shot as we went along. Every day was a battle with someone or something. That’s why I always say directing is a dog’s job. I would ask myself,
How did I get here?
My brother called every week to offer encouragement. “You’re still standing! That’s good.” Jim Brooks also came over. Even Rob took time out from making
Stand By Me
to visit the set. And Scott Rudin, who worked with Joel then, was also a support. The two of them and Larry used to bring deli food to my house on Saturdays, and we would eat and talk about the movie. I liked Scott, because he was the only one who read books or saw plays.

My days lasted twenty hours, and it was all I could do to keep up. We were doing a night shoot in San Pedro with actor Jeroen Krabbé, who flew into town from Belgium for his part as the spy Mark Van Meter. I had never met him or laid eyes on him, for that matter. He had been cast before I was brought on. When Jeroen arrived on the set, it was a chilly night and I was wearing a raccoon hat with flaps covering my ears and face. I said, “Hello, do you speak English?”

I had no idea. That’s how it went sometimes. I trusted the crew to
tell me what was funny. They were invaluable. Joel Silver came down periodically and yelled at them, which most of them, having worked with him before, were used to. He did action pictures. He wanted tons of explosions. He thought the movie ended when they shot up the office. I have to say, that part didn’t make sense to me. Why would they create such a spectacle when they were spies?

As far as I was concerned, Whoopi’s character had to meet Jack. That was the end of the movie. I cast Jonathan Pryce, a great actor, as Jack. He’d been doing Chekhov in London. He had only two lines onscreen (he had voiceovers through the whole movie). But I had to have someone who was believable. However, in terms of actual shooting, we finished with the scene where the cab crashed. Literally. The crash broke the A camera. I heard Matt say, “Well, that’s a hundred-thousand-dollar shot.” Joel wanted one more shot of Whoopi crawling over a roof. She refused. She hit him and walked off the set. So it was a wrap—an anticlimactic wrap. I guess I’m big with anticlimactic wraps.

Garry, Penny, Stephen Collins, and Whoopi on the set of
Jumpin’ Jack Flash
“Jumpin’ Jack Flash” © 1986 Twentieth Century Fox. All rights reserved
.

H
AVING SPENT MONTHS
piecing together different versions of the script and being told that I had way more than I needed, I didn’t know what to expect when I watched the first cut of the movie. Honestly, it was quite good. I was impressed. It was a movie. But it was an action movie with
North by Northwest
music cut in. It didn’t have the heart that I wanted. I like films to have a little heart.

I had the material to make the kinds of changes I wanted and when the original editor moved onto another picture, I took that as an opportunity to bring in Jim’s editor, Richard Marks, as well as George Bowers. We talked it through, and they gave me a cut that I liked better. But even then I knew we still needed some pickups, or “wild lines,” and a reshoot of a key scene toward the end. I also thought we might need some pickups in New York City as well.

I arranged to show the picture to Barry Diller, then the chairman of Fox, because I was going to need money for the reshoot and ultimately he had to give the OK. Why not go directly to him? I also called Tracy’s ex-boyfriend, Gio Coppola, and asked if he might be able to shoot for me in Manhattan. He and Tracy had broken up, but
they were still close even though he was with Tracy’s good friend, Jacqui De La Fontaine, an aspiring fashion designer who had lived with us at Gore’s house. It was a soap opera.

Tracy was the one who told me that Gio was in the D.C. area, working on his father’s film,
Gardens of Stone
. He’d called her recently and said that Jacqui was pregnant. Tracy was pissed at Jacqui for doing that. But Gio sounded enthusiastic the night I spoke with him. He was glad to hear from me, said things were going well for him on
Gardens
, and he was available to shoot in New York. Whatever I needed, he said. Just let him know.

The next day Tracy and I were in the kitchen. I was at the table while she got dinner ready. The phone rang. It was Sofia Coppola, and she was in tears.

“What’s the matter, honey?” I asked.

“My mother’s at the store,” she said, “and they just called and said my brother—”

“Which brother?” I asked, already knowing that something terrible had happened.

“Gio,” she said, before breaking down again.

“What happened?” I asked. “What’s the matter with him?”

Between hysterical sobs, she told me that Gio had been killed in a boating accident in Annapolis. My heart dropped into the bottom of my stomach. They were still gathering details, she said, but he had been riding with actor Griffin O’Neal in a speedboat on the South River. Jacqui was waiting for them at the dock. They were having typical Memorial Day weekend fun until Griffin steered their boat between two others that had been connected with a rope. He ducked at the last minute, but Gio didn’t see it and he died instantly.

I tried to calm Sofia down. I heard her mom, Ellie, come home. Then I hung up.

I stared at Tracy. I didn’t know how to tell her. After I did, she went into shock. It was terrible—as terrible as terrible gets. The phone rang for days, and we debated whether Tracy should go to the funeral.
Would it be awkward since she was Gio’s ex-girlfriend? Would she feel like the other woman considering her friend was two months pregnant with his child? Would she be angry with herself if she didn’t go and say good-bye to her friend?

Luckily, Anjelica Huston was also in
Gardens of Stone
and I knew her well enough to ask a favor. She went to the funeral and took care of Tracy.

Like my daughter, we all needed time to get over that tragedy. I ended up not needing a reshoot in New York, but Gio stayed in my thoughts and I thanked him in the credits. I did reshoot a scene in downtown L.A., the one with Whoopi being dragged in the phone booth. I also brought Jimmy Belushi back to life for that scene. He’d been killed earlier. I put a bandage on his head and said, “You’re alive. Here are your lines.”

If only real life were like the movies sometimes.

In October, the movie opened to mixed reviews and what I was told was mediocre box office. However, I didn’t follow the box office. I didn’t understand the poster, either. It said Whoopi saves the world. Her name was Terry Dolittle. It was confusing. I also thought the promo was wrong. But I didn’t beat myself up. I didn’t care what was said in the papers. I’d come on the movie at the last minute with no previous experience and finished the movie—and it had some good parts. To me, it was a success. You have to keep things in perspective.

Penny with Robert De Niro, who was in line to play the starring role in
Big
Marshall personal collection

J
IM BROOKS AND
I both had offices on the Fox lot and one day while I was in post-production on
Jumpin’ Jack Flash
he came into my office and put a script on my desk. “This is your next movie,” he said.

It was
Big
.

What he didn’t tell me was that everyone in the world had turned it down. From Chuck Shyer to Steven Spielberg. Because I didn’t read the trades or follow the business, I had no idea. Nor did I know there were three similar movies in the works:
Like Father, Like Son; Vice Versa;
and an Italian version.

But Jim was a mentor and friend. He knew that I had liked directing and making things up. He also knew that I wanted to do it again. I was grateful for his help because I probably wouldn’t have known how to look for a project on my own. Luckily I didn’t have to.