Blogging By Cinema-light: Don't Make a Scene: The Fabelmans

The Story: There were a lot of scenes I loved in movies last year, but this is the one I loved the most, and I wanted to put it up before the end of this year. It's just too good.

I've talked a lot here about John Ford...a lot...but probably not enough. The man was a master of the motion picture art form with exquisitely shot films that had a depth and a sense of mystery to them. He told stories straightforwardly, but never felt the need to hold an audience's hand by stating the obvious...not when he could show it. One could sight the many directors he's influenced in this country and internationally...but why? Ford doesn't need defending. His work speaks for itself.

But, the man could be an ogre. A sloppy Irish drunk, he bullied people on his sets, played power games with them and with studio execs, and insisted on shooting in faraway locations...because he knew the suits didn't like to travel. He never shot "coverage" or multiple angles, giving editors just enough to make the picture, but not enough for producers to interfere. He was the boss, the coach, "Papa" and he never let you forget it...if you did, you'd be in "the barrel" subject to his constant scorn.

He was a mean SOB. But, he made beautiful pictures.

Complicated.

So, when Steven Spielberg inserted the story of his one meeting with Ford in his roman à clef, The Fabelmans, I was just giddy. But not as giddy as who I saw was cast to play Ford.

It's David flippin' Lynch.

And, as odd a choice as that may be, it's perfect. Don't credit Spielberg for the idea. Credit screenplay author Tony Kushner's husband, Mark Harris—who has written "Pictures at a Revolution," "Five Came Back" and "Mike Nichols: A Life", great "reads," all—for the inspiration. And Lynch gets it "down." Don't believe me? Check out the clips of "the real" Ford below (as well as Spielberg talking about the casting and telling "the John Ford" story for a junket for Cowboys and Aliens).

Oh, and one other thing—Ford did a scene of himself when he made The Wings of Eagles about one of his favorite screenwriters. Check that one out here.

The Set-Up: Young Sammy Fabelman (Gabriel LaBelle), growing up fascinated—even obsessed with movies—is now pursuing a career in the picture business. During an interview he is made an offer that he can't refuse.

ACTION! (god-dammit!)

BERNIE FEIN (snapping his fingers!) You know who you need to meet?! I mean not for a job, ‘cause...he doesn’t do that.

BERNIE FEIN How would you like to meet the greatest film director who ever lived...

BERNIE FEIN ...and he’s right across the hall?!

INT. A CORRIDOR AND AN OFFICE, LOS ANGELES - DAY

Bernie Fein leads Sammy out of his office to an office directly across the hall.

As he’s opening the door:

BERNIE FEIN C’mon. Wait here a minute.

Bernie goes in. Sammy looks at the office door’s plastic sign: “SUITE 3B.”

Bernie’s voice can be heard from within.

Bernie comes out and leads Sammy in.

Sammy nervously enters an old, shabby waiting room. NONA, a secretary, 50ish, dressed in 1940s style, sits behind a desk.

BERNIE FEIN (CONT’D) Uh, this is Nona. Nona’s gonna look after you.

BERNIE FEIN Um, he’s not here. He’s -

NONA He’s at lunch.

BERNIE FEIN Right.

NONA (to Sammy:) You want to wait?

BERNIE FEIN Yeah, he’ll wait.

BERNIE FEIN (to Sammy:) Sit.

Bernie guides Sammy to a chair and slaps him on the shoulder.

BERNIE FEIN (CONT’D) Good luck.

Bernie leaves.

NONA Could be hours.

Sammy nods.

Nona goes back to work.

Sammy looks at the old posters on the walls

(the strumming guitar of The Searchers score commences in his head): STAGECOACH,

HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY,

THE INFORMER,

THE SEARCHERS,

3 GODFATHERS, SHE WORE A YELLOW RIBBON,

THE GRAPES OF WRATH,

THE QUIET MAN,

and a newer poster for LIBERTY VALENCE.

The door of the office flies open,

The Searchers score ends with the sound of a needle scraped off a record,

and JOHN FORD enters.

He’s 71 but he looks older, tall, gaunt, an eyepatch over one eye, covering his glasses on that side. He’s wearing beat-up safari clothes and a cloth safari hat. He’s holding a partly burned, unlit cigar, the mouth-end badly masticated.

As he walks past Sammy, oblivious, Sammy sees that there are perfectly-shaped lipstick kisses on Ford’s cheeks and in the middle of his forehead.

He goes past Nona, enters his office and slams the door.

Nona picks up a box of Kleenex and runs in after him.

Sammy waits.

Nona emerges...

...with a wad of pink-stained wet Kleenex.

She dumps it in her desk trashcan

and says, indicating the partially-opened inner office door:

NONA (CONT’D) Alright kid, you got five minutes.

NONA Probably one.

NONA Stand up.

Sammy stands.

NONA (CONT’D) Lose the tie. You’ll stand a better chance.

Sammy nervously removes his tie.

John Ford is at his desk,

snipping the end from a fresh cigar

with a tarnished silver clipper.

Sammy enters

and stands before the great man, awestruck.

Ford reaches

retrieves a match from a small brass holder shaped like a cowboy boot,

strikes it on his desk blotter,

lights the cigar

and puffs again and again.

It goes on and on,

but Sammy drinks this in, not moving a muscle.

Ford takes the cigar out and licks his lips, his tongue weirdly distended, like a cat’s. Then:

JOHN FORD They tell me you want to be a picture maker.

SAMMY Um, yes sir. I do.

JOHN FORD Why?!

JOHN FORD This business - (he shreds the air!) - it’ll rip you apart!

SAMMY Well,

SAMMY Mr. Ford, I -

JOHN FORD So...

JOHN FORD ...whatta ya know about art, kid?

SAMMY I just- I love your movies so much -

JOHN FORD NO! ART!!

Ford suddenly points to a big Remington painting, two men on horseback looking off into the distance with a large butte in the background.

JOHN FORD (CONT’D) See that painting over there?!

SAMMY Uh, yeah,

SAMMY I mean yes! Yes, I do see it.

JOHN FORD Walk over to it!

Sammy walks to the painting.

He looks at it, unsure about what he’s supposed to do.

JOHN FORD (CONT’D) Well?!

JOHN FORD What’s in it?! Describe it!!

SAMMY Oh okay, um - so there are...two guys,

SAMMY and they’re...on horseback

SAMMY and they’re looking for something,

SAMMY so maybe they’re scouting - ?

JOHN FORD NO!! NO!! Where’s the horizon?!

SAMMY The - the horizon?

JOHN FORD Where is it?!

SAMMY (pointing:) Oh, it’s, um, it’s at the bottom.

JOHN FORD That’s RIGHT!

JOHN FORD Walk over to this painting!

He points at another painting, a Western scene by Charles Russell.

Sammy examines it: five cowboys in a large, crater- like ditch.

Their horses are tethered by a small pool of water at the center of the depression while the men are all hunkered around the ridge, rifles ready, forming an armed perimeter.