Movies about the movies
Hollywood, a cesspool of corruption, is a rich film genre. Warning: footnotes
What’s more American than movies about movies (and, of course, meaning Hollywood)? Deceit, blind ambition, backstabbing, duplicity, blatant propaganda, infidelity, larceny, murder, stolen dreams, drugs and alcohol, broken promises—all American values on uninhibited display in movies about moviemaking.1
As a public service, here are some of my favorites about the movies, from comedy to tragedy to the surreal (Fellini, of course).2 Favorite favorites, in no particular order: Wag the Dog, Bombshell, The Making of ‘…And God Spoke,’ Sunset Boulevard, Get Shorty, and Night Moves.3
Bombshell (1933), directed by Victor Fleming. Let there be no doubt Jean Harlow was a brilliant comic actress—and Bombshell is Harlow at her sharpest. The setup: Lee Tracy (also never better) plays Space Hanlon, a fast-talking press agent for mega Hollywood star Lola Burns (Harlow, presumably playing herself). In spite of the luxurious trappings of Beverly Hills, she’s plagued by a grinding work schedule, nosy reporters, her no-good chiseling family, and the machinations of the amoral Hanlon as he promotes her career. Great dialog throughout,4 culminating in Harlow’s blistering staircase speech (no cuts) telling off the freeloaders. Nothing creaky about this fast-paced early talkie.
Sullivan’s Travels (1941), directed by Preston Sturges, is one of his best.5 Hit moviemaker Joel McCrea wants to move away from comedy to serious and direct his pet project, O, Brother Where Art Thou?6 as friends and studio honchos wring their hands. Insanity ensues as the director hits the road to discover the real America, helped by the usual cast of Sturges’ stalwarts and by a never-better Veronica Lake. A classic.
Sunset Boulevard (1950), directed by Billy Wilder. One of the best Hollywood comedies … and not a single laugh line. No matter. Struggling screenwriter Joe Gillis (William Holden) holes up in the Beverly Hills mansion of faded silent star Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson). Her creepy butler, played by Erich von Stroheim, adds a disturbing element that’s very old-school Hollywood. It doesn’t turn out well, but no surprise: The entire movie is a flashback that starts with Gillis floating face-down in the swimming pool. Some great lines—Gillis: “You're Norma Desmond. You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big.” Desmond: “I am big. It's the pictures that got small.” A pre-Dragnet Jack Webb is a hoot, as are cameos by Buster Keaton, Cecil B. DeMille, and Hedda Hopper. Another classic.
In a Lonely Place7 (1950), directed by Nicholas Ray. Bogart plays a Hollywood screenwriter/World War II vet with an extremely short fuse (he’s got PTSD bad, though it’s not mentioned) and Gloria Grahame as his luscious new neighbor. They hit it off after Bogie is accused of murder; Grahame’s character may’ve bitten off too much with her new paramour.8
The Bad and the Beautiful (1952), directed by Vincente Minelli. An all-star cast in a series of flashbacks about despised, deposed studio head Kirk Douglas as he attempts to rekindle his career. Lana Turner plays the actress that shunned him, Dick Powell the screenwriter who hates him and Barry Sullivan as the director he betrayed. The film got the Big Movie treatment—budget, casting, and run time—and it works. Gloria Grahame, as Powell’s ditsy Southern Belle wife, is irritating, yet strangely watchable.9
Singin’ in the Rain (1952), directed by Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly. A Hollywood spoof about the transition from silent to the talkies in the late ‘20s. Cartoonish, to say the least, but it’s less about moviemaking than about the jaw-dropping dance numbers by Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor (backflipping off walls), Debbie Reynolds and Cyd Charisse. And Technicolor never looked better.
8 1/2 (1963), directed by Federico Fellini. Average-looking guy Fellini cast the incredibly handsome Marcello Mastroianni (the first big joke) as a tormented director putting together his next film. Nothing is going right, least of all with his mistress, his wife and his demanding actors (“I need to know my character”). But that’s the surface: Memories and fantasies intrude, resulting in a surreal10 plunge into the director’s psyche. Nino Rota’s score is, as usual, outstanding. [Kanopy]
Pulp (1972), directed by Mike Hodges. A pulp writer (Michael Caine) is hired to ghost a bio of a washed-up star (Mickey Rooney), on the run from mobsters and holed up in Malta. Featured are some familiar film faces: In addition to Lionel Stander (a regular in many Sturges’ comedies; you’ll recognize his bullfrog voice), and Lizabeth Scott (a noir diva) makes her final screen appearance.11 Great line delivered by Caine: “The writer’s life would be ideal, but for the writing.”12 Coming off the previous year’s successful Get Carter (also directed by Hodges and starring Caine), Pulp wasn’t a success and is a mixed bag overall. But with a cast like that . . .13
Blazing Saddles (1974), directed by Mel Brooks. So-so 1870s Western spoof14 goes ape shit at the end when the final saloon brawl spills off the set, invades a neighboring sound stage, and floods out the gates of the Warner Bros. lot onto the streets of L.A. It’s Brooks at his most outrageous, and it works. What fascinates is the comparison with Young Frankenstein, made by Brooks later that year—and remarkably funnier. Gene Wilder is half-asleep as the gunslinger, and while Madeleine Kahn (as saloon songstress Lili Von Shtüpp) is funny as she channels Marlene Dietrich and then shtupps15 the new sheriff in town (off-screen), she isn’t the scene-stealer of Y.F.16 And Slim Pickens (not in Young Frankenstein, but I gotta complain) is wasted (unlike in 1975’s Rancho Deluxe, a much funnier film than Blazing Saddles).17
Night Moves (1975), directed by Arthur Penn. Underrated neo-noir about L.A. detective/former pro footballer Gene Hackman tracking down a washed-up Hollywood star’s nymphet daughter18 to the Florida Keys. The movie goes in unpredictable (and ultimately satisfying) directions: Nothing is as it seems. A great cast: Jennifer Warren, Edward Binns19 and a young (and nasty) James Woods in supporting roles. The ending is as good as it gets.
Hearts of the West (1975), directed by Howard Zieff. Hayseed writer-wannabe Lewis Tater from Iowa (Jeff Bridges) stumbles into Hollywood during the early talkies era and ends up an extra in low-budget oaters. The always watchable Bridges is amiable and funny, even at the tender age of 25; Andy Griffith mines his acting chops from A Face in the Crowd as the older actor who takes him under his wing (sort of). It’s the polar opposite of the grim The Day of the Locust (below) that’s set in the same period and about similar mix of actors at the bottom of the moviemaking heap. Hearts of the West is mostly overlooked, but is satisfying, if predictable (though it picks up speed as it goes along). Alan Arkin, Blythe Danner and Donald Pleasance lend support. [Internet Archive]
The Day of the Locust (1975), directed by John Schlesinger. The ‘70s were the last great era of American movies20 and this film is right up there, along with Chinatown, Network, and Rancho Deluxe, to name a few. Set in late ‘30s Hollywood, it’s the starkest contrast between the Tinseltown dream and the harsh, dog-eat-dog reality of bit players, wannabe starlets, hangers-on, extras and others desperate for success. Episodic and ultimately a horror movie (minus the usual gore), the film offers outstanding performances from Karen Black (the blonde extra who wants to be a star), Donald Sutherland (the out-of-town boob with money who befriends her), Burgess Meredith (outstanding as Black’s father, a fading song-and-dance man21) and Billy Barty (memorable as the baby in the “Pettin’ in the Park” dance number in Gold Diggers of 1933; here he’s a foul-mouthed dwarf who likes cockfighting). Amazing that a film that cast Hollywood in such a negative, even hopeless, light got greenlighted.
The Front (1976), directed by Martin Ritt. Woody Allen plays a schnook enlisted by blacklisted writers during the McCarthy era as a beard22; a comedy with a serious theme.23 Unusual for Allen to appear in a film he didn’t direct, but as he later said, “the subject was worthwhile”: Hollywood’s unconscionable banning of actors and screenwriters for exercising their freedom of speech. The cast includes Herschel Bernardi, Zero Mostel and several others who had been blacklisted, as well as Michael Murphy (as the writer who first hires Allen). Director Ritt was also blacklisted.
Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid (1982), directed by Carl Reiner. Private eye Rigby Reardon (Steve Martin) takes on a case and meets just about every detective and femme fatale that ever graced the silver screen.24 It’s done in a series of (usually) clever cuts from noir flicks inserted into the film; part of the fun is identifying the old movies and stars. The Martin segments were filmed in black and white—with real attention to Martin’s sets, which makes the movie flow with the inserted scenes. Reiner (as Field Marshall von Kluck) and Rachel Ward (the femme fatale who deftly removes bullets with her teeth) back up Martin admirably.
The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985), directed by Woody Allen. A Depression-era romantic fantasy: A dashing character in a pith helmet (Jeff Daniels) steps off the screen and into the life of miserable, movie-besotted waitress Mia Farrow, with predictably silly results: the rest of the on-screen cast, minus a key character, is stranded in a drawing room farce, while Hollywood studio honchos go nuts trying to get the actor back on the screen. A minor masterpiece by Allen, thanks to his skillful screenplay and a radiant Farrow. Only a really good actor could pull off the final scene—a despondent, abandoned Farrow in a movie theater watching Astaire and Rogers dance cheek to cheek in Top Hat: The movies really are magical (especially when an actor is so good you can read her thoughts).
Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988), directed by Robert Zemeckis. Amazing blend of animation and live action in what could be called a remake of Chinatown (set in Hollywood in 1947, ten years later, and with more humor). The opening cartoon short is sidesplitting—and the gags never let up.25 Bob Hoskins, a Brit, delivers like an American as a bitter gumshoe; Christopher Lloyd is unremittingly evil as the bad guy; and the sultry voice of Kathleen Turner (uncredited) is spot-on as the va-va-voom Jessica Rabbit (“I’m not really bad. I’m just drawn that way.”) The final scene gets carried away with violence and special effects, but at that point, who cares? Favorite line: Hoskins jumps on the back of an L.A. trolley with some kids, who jeer: Where’s your car? “No one needs a car. L.A has the best public transportation system in the world.”26
The Big Picture (1989), directed by Christopher Guest. Mild, yet funny, satire of Hollywood picture making as recent film school grad Kevin Bacon (always watchable) embarks on a rollercoaster career as the hot new director in town. The movie is even more fun after his career lurches downward when his mentor, a loathsome studio exec (the late, great J.T. Walsh), is axed by his studio: After changing from an affable nobody into an insufferable prick driving a Porsche, Bacon reverts to an instant pariah to his new Hollywood “friends.” Jennifer Jason Leigh is memorable in a small role. Lots of cameos add to the enjoyment.27
Postcards From the Edge (1990), directed by Mike Nichols. Carrie Fisher’s fictionalized account of life with mom (Debbie Reynolds) goes to the big screen. Mother (alcoholic)/daughter (druggie) family disfunction, Hollywood style, starring Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine. Sharp dialog and direction, with able assists from Dennis Quaid, Richard Dreyfuss, Gene Hackman and Rob Reiner.
Barton Fink (1991), directed by Joel and Ethan Coen. Newly hired screenwriter from back East learns fast that his Broadway hit means nothing in Tinseltown. “Over the top” doesn’t do justice to this uninhibited romp in 1941 Hollywood, with a stellar cast: John Turturro as the self-important writer and John Goodman, Judy Davis, Jon Polito and Steve Buscemi. Coen brothers’ excess at its best. [Amazon]
The Player (1992), directed by Robert Altman. The eight-minute opening tracking shot (no cuts) is an homage to Orson Welles’ opening in Touch of Evil. But that’s it for honoring Hollywood, as this black comedy skews the backstabbing and lying that defines the industry. Tim Robbins plays it loathsome in the title role, an ambitious producer on the make. The cameos make it really fun to watch; apparently every star in Hollywood wanted in on the action. Altman also had fun pulling the rug on the audience: We get a topless scene with Tim Robbins’ cute (but not curvy) girlfriend, but we never see va-va-voom Greta Scacchi’s boobs.
The Making of ‘…And God Spoke’ (1993), directed by Arthur Borman. Mockumentary about the making of a big budget28 Biblical epic. Everything that can go wrong in the making of a big film (by a clearly dysfunctional producer and his feckless director) goes wrong, until the surprise ending.29 Is it silly? Soupy Sales (always funny) as Moses says it all. First (of many) on-the-set fuck-ups: Mayhem erupts in filming a nude scene in the Garden of Eden—the vixen playing Eve sports a gigantic snake tattoo on her torso: “But I auditioned for the Virgin Mary.” A must-see for film buffs.30 [Plex]
Ed Wood (1994), directed by Tim Burton, is an homage to mediocrity—specifically, the eponymous (and cross-dressing) director of Plan 9 From Outer Space, routinely touted as the worst movie ever.31 Funny and fast moving, with a sharp script. Martin Landau, a ringer for a dying Bela Lugosi, almost steals the show (and got an Oscar). The on-target cast features Johnny Depp (as Wood), Sarah Jessica Parker, Jeffrey Jones and Bill Murray (in a small but memorable role).
Get Shorty (1995), directed by Barry Sonnenfeld. Miami mob enforcer (and movie maven) Chili Palmer (John Travolta) lands in L.A. to break a few legs and likes what he sees: rampant stupidity in the movie biz. So, ‘natch, he makes his move to become a producer. Only slightly over the top, this Elmore Leonard story32 is a nonstop hoot as Palmer and the only other intelligent person in the film, a B-film screamer (Rene Russo), elbow their way to the top. Great supporting cast, too: the late, great Gene Hackman (usually playing intelligent types, he shows here that he could do dense), Danny DeVito (an egotistical superstar with a Napoleon complex), Dennis Farino (a dumb-as-a-rock mobster), Delroy Lindo (an out-of-his-depth movie investor), and, in smaller parts, Bette Midler (hilariously seducing a dimwitted Hackman) and Harvey Keitel (in a cameo that ties up the film in a neat package). Master crime writer Leonard said Get Shorty was the best adaptation of his many novels that made it to the screen.33
Wag the Dog (1997), directed by Barry Levinson. It's a fast-paced, funny, and only occasionally ridiculous movie about a media spinmeister (Robert De Niro) and a big-time Hollywood movie producer (Dustin Hoffman) who concoct a war with Albania (!) to distract the moronic public from presidential sexcapades. The film boasts a can't-miss cast (not just De Niro and Hoffman, predictably great, but also the late Anne Heche and Woody Harrelson, in a particularly pure performance) and a screenwriting assist from David Mamet, America's Shakespeare.34 The film became part of the political lexicon, and for a reason.
L.A. Confidential (1997), directed by Curtis Hanson. What’s the mirror image of corrupt, rotten-to-the-core Hollywood? The LAPD. Hard-edged, fast-moving, with great dialog and a stellar cast, L.A. Confidential does credit to James Ellroy’s eponymous novel about police corruption in ‘50s Hollywood: a major gang war, a massacre in an all-night diner, a call girl service with the girls surgically altered to resemble stars (Kim Basinger as Veronica Lake, David Strathairn as her wealthy, connected pimp), a sleazy tabloid journo (Danny DeVito35) and a stable of cops of various crooked degrees (Kevin Spacey, Russell Crowe, Guy Pierce, James Cromwell). Although not about moviemaking, the film makes it to the TV set of Badge of Honor (standing in for Dragnet), and there’s a Lana Turner cameo (though it’s not really her).36 [Criterion]
Bowfinger (1999), directed by Frank Oz. Satirical, farcical, funny and silly movie about a bottom-feeder filmmaker (Steve Martin) deceiving an action movie star (Eddie Murphy) to “star” in his next, severely underfunded flick.37 Both comics are in fine form, the script keeps things moving and the consistently funny movie features sight-gags galore. Special shout-outs: Heather Graham, playing a starlet wannabe just off the bus from Ohio (“Where do I go to become a star?”), uses her innate talents to sleep her way to the top of Martin’s motley crew, starting with the film editor (walking arm-in-arm after their first time, she reveals: “I’ve never done it lying down before”) before moving up the food chain (think Barbara Stanwyck in Baby Face, but more laughs); and to Betsy the Dog, who has some memorable sight gags. Supporting cast includes Terence Stamp (!) and Robert Downey Jr.
State and Main (2000), written and directed by David Mamet. Not all Mamet is a journey down a dark hole: This film about the making of a movie in Vermont as the production company runs out of dough is farcical, charming, and very funny. William H. Macy (as the director trying to hold it together) delivers Mamet’s machinegun dialog like he was born to it (especially telephone “dialog”). Rebecca Pidgeon, David Paymer and Alec Baldwin are standouts in the large cast.38 [Kanopy, Plex]
For Your Consideration (2006), directed by Christopher Guest. Low-key, but consistently amusing, mockumentary featuring the usual Guest stalwarts.39 The plot: During the making of Home for Purim, a movie so bad you know you’re watching a mockumentary, an Oscar buzz ignites the set. Totally unbelievable—and that’s the fun, as the players (and their helpers40) position themselves for Oscar night. A good cast moves it along: in addition to Guest, Eugene Levy (who co-wrote with Guest), Catherine O’Hara (you’ll recognize Levy and O’Hara from Shit’s Creek), Harry Shearer, Michael McKean (Better Call Saul), Parker Posey, Bob Balaban (Orr in Catch-22) and Ricky Gervais, among others. Dry wit and adult silliness. Who needs more? [Kanopy]
To be continued. . .
Although I’ve included an Italian movie and a Brit movie. Noirs about moviemaking would be just about perfect, no? Check out In a Lonely Place and Night Moves, below.
Most of the movies here are on Amazon (U.S.); alternative sources are listed like this: [Kanopy]
Some notables didn’t make the cut (De gustibus non est disputandum): none in the A Star is Born franchise, The Stunt Man, The Last Tycoon, Inside Daisy Clover, Babylon.
Louise Beavers, as Harlow’s maid, delivers some great one-liners.
Other Sturges’ greats include The Palm Beach Story, The Lady Eve, The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek, Hail the Conquering Hero and Unfaithfully Yours. Quite the comedy collection.
Filmed in 2000 by the Coen brothers as an homage: a whacky adaptation of Homer’s The Odyssey. Good flick with a cast headed by George Clooney.
The eponymous book by noirista Dorothy B. Hughes, published three years earlier, is completely different: the main character, a paragon of toxic masculinity, was a serial killer. The film, though, stands on its own.
Eddie Muller, host of Turner Classic Movies’ Noir Alley, calls this his favorite noir.
Being gorgeous helped. Spoiler: Her sudden demise is a relief.
Surrealism not your thing? Pro tip: The scenes flow better with a healthy serving of cannabis.
And “fifth Beatle” George Martin wrote the score.
My motto.
Pulp is hard to find. I probably rented the DVD from Netflix back in the day (that service was discontinued). TCM might be the best bet.
While Blazing Saddles was a huge success when released, it hasn’t aged well. The social commentary is dated and Brooks’ pacing is deadly.
Shtupp is Yiddish for …
After sex with monster: Oh. Where you going?... Oh, you men are all alike. Seven or eight quick ones and then you're out with the boys to boast and brag. YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT. Oh... I think I love him.
Wilder is great in Y.F. as Dr. Frederick Frankenstein. Then there’s the rest of the cast: Marty Feldman, Peter Boyle, Terri Garr and Cloris Leachman. And Gene Hackman in a cameo.
Ably played by a teenaged Melanie Griffith.
Great line by Binns (as a movie director) to Hackman about a stuntman who can’t keep his pants zipped: “He’d fuck a woodpile on a chance there’s a snake in it.”
Per movie critic/propaganda expert Mark Crispin Miller.
Burgess was nominated for a best supporting actor Oscar; didn’t get it.
Blacklisted writers submitted screenplays through nonwriters to disguise their names and earn a living.
Since The Front is about early ‘50s live TV in New York, this technically isn’t about moviemaking. But cut me some slack: The blacklist (and beards) was a real thing in Hollywood.
Partial list: Alan Ladd, Barbara Stanwyck, Ava Gardner, Ray Milland, Burt Lancaster, Bogie, Cary Grant, Ingrid Bergman, Bette Davis, James Cagney…
It’s the evil studios vs. the Toons, a thinly veiled analogy for racial segregation.
True. But soon GM was leading the drive to eliminate trolleys and replace them with buses (and superhighways) in cities across the U.S.
The Big Picture had a limited theatrical release and, in spite of good reviews, quickly went to video—studio execs thought it satirized them too much (according to a comment on IMDb). So, basically, it flopped, which adds to the film’s allure. Nonetheless, it’s an enjoyable ride.
Until the studio pulled the plug.
I should’ve seen it coming. Maybe you will.
You are a film buff, right?
I doubt it.
Explains why it’s so good; Leonard knew a thing or two about the movies and crime, and wrote blistering dialog, although not this screenplay.
Saying a lot, since it must include the 1967 western Hombre, directed by Martin Ritt (who also directed The Front, above) and starring Paul Newman, Richard Boone and Fredric March. Great flick.
Or whoever wrote those plays.
Spoiler: Gratifying seeing a major star like DeVito beaten to death at the end. I mean that in the nicest way.
Lana Turner died in 1995, two years before L.A. Confidential was released.
By filming him without his knowledge and building the film around the stolen scenes.
No idea why Philip Seymour Hoffman got top billing. You might say his part was understated; I call it bland, the only off-note.
Guest’s other mockumentaries: This is Spinal Tap (1984), Waiting for Guffman (1997), and Best in Show (2000). And The Big Picture (above, not a mockumentary).
The flick is, no doubt intentionally, a celebration of extremely bad hair.
Great list! Interesting how many starred Gene Hackman.
Regarding Sunset Boulevard, I was so fortunate to catch the recent Broadway revival of the Andrew Lloyd Webber show, reinterpreted by Jamie Lloyd and starring the stupendously talented Nicole Scherzinger.
The tone is different. The movie is spooky and mysterious, and the show is more a vehicle for the Webber music, and shifts the emphasis more to Nora Desmond as a star vehicle for the singer. But -- the Jamie Lloyd staging was wonderfully noir-ish, and used a huge video screen to blur the line between stage and cinema. Just a thrilling experience.
Great roster ! Tere's another few I feel could possibly make the list : The Stunt Man , Peter O'Toole ..also Visions of Light , a documentary about cinematography throughout film history.