william goldman: “misery,” part 3

More from William Goldman’s Which Lie Did I Tell? — which you must all go out and buy posthaste. I’m doing his chapter on Misery and I’m up to my favorite section — Casting Jimmy Caan. Who knew what this movie went through just to cast Paul Sheldon?? Oh, and his insights here about the character, about James Caan and why he was so special, so good in that part — really great stuff. So here we go.

Casting Jimmy Caan

It was as simple and discouraging as this: no one would play the part.

We knew the role was less flashy. Had to be, the guy’s in the sack most of the movie. We also knew he was under the control of the woman, something stars hate. But we also felt the movie was essentially what the Brits call a “two-hander.” The Paul Sheldon character is not only the hero, he’s in almost every scene. Wouldn’t anyone say yes?

We went to William Hurt —

— didn’t want to do it.

We rewrote it, went back to William Hurt —

— didn’t want to do it yet again.

Kevin Kline —

— didn’t want to do it.

Michael Douglas —

— met with Rob, didn’t want to do it.

Harrison Ford —

— didn’t want to do it.

Dustin Hoffman was called in London —

— liked Castle Rock, liked Rob, didn’t want to do it.

Understand, this entire casting process took maybe six months, and we are well into it by now and this is where my respect for Mr. Reiner reached epic size. Because, you must understand that well before this point, all the major studios would have had me in for rewrites or fired me, because they would have known the script stank. It had to stink. Look at those rejections.

Reiner simply got more and more bullheaded.

And, secondly, he needed a famous face as Paul Sheldon, because Paul Sheldon was famous, just an Annie Wilkes was an unknown. On he trudged.

DeNiro —

— didn’t want to do it.

Pacino —

— didn’t want to do it.

Dreyfuss —

— WANTED TO DO IT.

Yes, Lord.

You see, Rob and Richard Dreyfuss had gone to high school together. And more than that, Rob had offered When Harry Met Sally to Dreyfuss who said no. Biiig mistake.

This time when Rob called him, Dreyfuss said this: “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.” Rob was, of course, amazingly relieved. But he felt it was silly for Dreyfuss to take a part without first at least reading it. Rob gave him the script. Dreyfuss read it —

— oops —

— didn’t want to do it.

Well before this point, Mr. Redford was sent the script. He would have been extraordinary. He met with Rob. He felt the script would make a very commercial movie.

Long regretful pause —

— didn’t want to do it.

How many is that? You count, it’s too painful. Understand, this is not the order of submission. My memory is that William Hurt may have been first but his second rejection came well after a bunch of others had passed. Anyway, it is all a swamp to me now.

Enter Warren Beatty.

Kind of wanted to do it. Met and met with Rob and Andy. Had a number of wonderful suggestions that helped close holes in the script. He was definitely interested. But there was this wee problem with Dick Tracy, which he was producing, directing, and starring in and which conflicted. To this day, I don’t think Warren Beatty has said no.

Andy one day mentioned Jimmy Caan. Who had been in the wilderness. Rob met with him, asked about his supposed drug problem. Caan replied that he was clean. “I will pee in a bottle for you,” he said. “I will pee in a bottle every day.”

He didn’t have to.

The reason for detailing the above is because there is a lesson here. Two, actually. First is this: we will never know. Would Kevin Kline have made it a better flick? We will never know. Would any of the skilled performers listed? We will never know. They never played the part. They might have been better or worse, all that we can be sure of is that they would have been different. Jimmy Caan did play it and he was terrific.

One special thing Caan brought to the party is that he is a very physical guy, like a shark, he has to keep moving, he cannot be still in a room. And playing Paul, month after month trapped in that bed, drove him nuts. That pent-up energy you saw on screen was very real. And it was one of the main reasons, at least for me, the movie worked.

Second point. When we read about George Raft turning down The Maltese Falcon because he didn’t trust one of the great directors of all time, John Huston, it seems like lunacy. The movie, of course, went on to make Mr. Bogart a star. But Bogart was nothing then, a small bald New York Stage actor who was going nowhere. And Huston never directed. The same is true when we read of all the people who were offered the lead in East of Eden or On the Waterfront or Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Careers are primarily about timing.

Paul Sheldon is an attractive, sensitive man in his forties, a writer of romance fiction. If you ask me what star best describes that guy I would answer with two words: Richard Gere.

Why didn’t we go with him?

Wrong question.

The real question is this: How is it possible for us to spend six months looking for an actor for a part for which Richard Gere would have been perfect and never once, not even one time mention his name? That’s how dead he was at the time we were looking. We were looking before Internal Affairs revived him and Pretty Woman put him back on top. We were looking in 1989, seven years since An Officer and a Gentleman. And in those seven years these were his choices: The Honorary Consul, Breathless, The Cotton Club, King David, No Mercy, Miles from Home.

He was not just dead, he was forgotten. Happens to us all. Remember my leper period? There’s a good and practical reason Hollywood likes Dracula pictures — it’s potentially the story of our lives …

Final section — a brief coda — up next: The Author Sees His Children