Blogging By Cinema-light

The Story: Stanley Kubrick once said that "The screenplay is the most uncommunicative form of writing ever devised.."

He could be provocative in his statements and this one is rather sweeping, but there's an undeniable kernel of truth to it.

Especially when you look at this script segment from Midnight Cowboy, written by Waldo Salt. There are major changes from what Salt put on the written page and what appeared in the film. For instance, there's a shift in emphasis: in Salt's script, the scene isn't about the squabbling couple of Joe Buck and Enrico Rizzo, it's about the comedy of trying to open a coconut, which both Joe and "Ratso" try to do unsuccessfully. The coconut is a visual metaphor and catalyst for Rizzo's frustration at being stuck in New York when his dream of success centers on Miami, Florida.

In the film, the coconut is relegated to a background player, a prop, that only shows up in the background (which Rizzo tries to open...with a can-opener!) and the focus is the bickering between the two psuedo-partners.

I saw an interview with Jon Voight (provided below), where he talked about filming with Hoffman where they ran lines and did work-shopping on the scenes during every break and every lunch trying to make it better, sharpening it and refocusing Salt's script. And so, the constant fidgeting with the coconut (ultimately to no avail) that the two characters do in the script is minimized, as it's a distraction from the conversation and beside the point. Joe Buck, in the film, never attempts to open the coconut, except in the final act, which—of course—ends in disaster.

You end a scene with a joke, a point, an exclamation. You move on.

The Set-up: (from Premiere Magazine, April, 1999) "The story centers on Joe Buck (Jon Voight), a Texas hick who comes to Manhattan with dreams of becoming a cowboy stud-for-hire to wealthy women. Instead he finds disillusionment and the tubercular Ratso Rizzo (Dustin Hoffman), who lives in a condemned East Village tenement. Like Buck, Rizzo also has dreams, and here, as the two sit in squalor, he lays out his relocation plan to his new and only friend."

Action!

The basic part of the screenplay stems from Salt's draft from 2/1/68. It went through some drastic revisions to the filmed transcript. Changes from the original appear in green text. Deleted sections are ~~crossed out~~.

INT. X FLAT - DAY

Joe lies on his cot, watching Ratso ~~struggle to penetrate the fibrous husk of a coconut, experimenting with a variety of rusty tools in an old cigar box~~.

RATSO The two basic items necessary to sustain life are sunshine and coconut milk.

RATSO Did you know that?

RATSO That's a ~~known~~ fact. ~~If I can find the goddam hole the milk squirts out~~.

JOE ~~This is an okay setup you got here, but I'd say you ain't just exactly, uh, flush, is that right or not?~~

RATSO ~~I been sick. Hold this, will ya?~~

~~Joe takes his time rising to hold the coconut while Ratso tries to poke a hole with a bent ice-pick~~.

RATSO (CONT'D) In Florida, ~~they come smooth, ready to eat. Down there, your only problem is, diet-wise, you gotta lift an arm to wipe warm milk off your chin. Tough, hey?~~ they got a terrific amount of coconut trees there. In fact, I think they even got 'em in the uh, gas stations over there.

JOE ~~I think finding you's the smartest thing I ever did, for both of us. You just the crooked kinda sneaky little sidewinder I need to get me hustling in this town. Hey!~~

~~Joe jerks his hand away just in time to avoid the ice-pick. The coconut bounces on the floor~~.

~~Ratso picks it up, holds it, while Joe tries to crack it, swinging his boot like a hammer~~.

RATSO Miami Beach is the only place for a real hustler. Florida has more rich chicks per square yard than any resort spot in the world. They lie out in their pagodas and pergolas waiting to grab the first jockstrap that passes. And ladies? You know that in Miami you got, uh—

RATSO You listenin' to me?

RATSO You got more ladies in Miami than any resort area in the country there. I mean, per capita on a given day, there's probably, uh, 300 of them on the beach.

RATSO In fact you can't even, uh, sctratch yourself without gettin' a belly button, uh, up the old kazoo there.

He takes a bite of food.

RATSO That's hot; let's go.

RATSO C'mon!

Joe walks over reading a comic book,

...which Ratso grabs.

JOE Hey!

He grabs it back

and sniffs the air

JOE Smells worse than it did cold.

JOE ~~What's all this sweet talk about Florida? Your friend O'Daniel got a stable down there now?~~

~~Joe swings violently~~.

RATSO All right, startin' tomorrow, you cook your own goddamn dinner.

RATSO Or you get one of your rich Park Avenue ladies to cook for you in her penthouse.

JOE I'm eatin' it, I'm eatin' it, see?

JOE Mmm, look. I'm eatin' this here, Ratso.

JOE Mmm, good. It's good.

~~Ratso yelps, hopping on his one good leg, sucking his thumb.~~

RATSO ~~Cowboy killers! Break my finger, Christ! I got news for you, baby, no chick with any class buys that big dumb cowboy crap~~... I gotta get outta here, gotta get outta here.

RATSO Miami Beach, that's where you could score.

RATSO Anybody can score there, even you.

RATSO In New York no rich lady with any class at all buys that cowboy crap anymore.

RATSO They're laughin' at you on the street.

JOE Ain't nobody laughin' at me on the street.

RATSO Behind your back I seen 'em laughin' at you, fella.

JOE Aw, what the hell you know about women anyway?

JOE When's the last time you scored, boy?

RATSO That's a matter I only talk about at confession.

RATSO We're not talkin' about me now.

JOE And when's the last time you went to confession?

RATSO That's between me and my confessor.

RATSO And I'll tell ya another thing.

RATSO Frankly, you're beginning to smell.

RATSO And for a stud in New York, that's a handicap.

JOE Well, don't talk to me about clean. I ain't never seen you change your underwear once the whole time I been here in New York.

JOE And that's pretty peculiar behavior.

RATSO I don't have to do that in public. I ain't got no need to expose myself.

JOE No, I bet you don't. I bet you ain't never even been laid!

JOE How about that?

JOE And you're gonna tell me what appeals to women.

~~Ratso holds his thumb under the tub-sink faucet~~.

RATSO (CONT'D) ... the cowboy bit's out, except among fags of a certain type, which take a certain, type hustler to exploit. Like I could handle it -- being a stealing operation basically -- but take your average fag, very few of them want a cripple. I know enough yo know that great big, dumb cowboy crap...

RATSO ...of yours don't appeal to nobody except every jockey on 42nd Street.

RATSO That's faggot stuff!

RATSO You wanna call it by its name? That's strictly for fags!

~~Joe holds the coconut like Yorick's skull, thinking hard.~~*

JOE ~~Well, I am dumb, that's for sure. I don't talk right. I can't think too good.~~ John Wayne! You wanna tell me he's a fag?

JOE I like the way I look. It makes me feel good. It does.

JOE And women like me, goddammit. ~~Just~~ Hell, only one thing I ever been good for's loving.

JOE Women go crazy for me. That's a really true Fact.

JOE Ratso, hell: Crazy Annie. Had to send her away. ~~So I don't cash in on that, what am I? I'm shee-it. May's well flush me down that hole with the dishwater.~~

~~Joe sets the coconut on the floor, holding it with both hands while he tries to smash it with the heel of his boot~~.