May 2, 1999

“An Ode to William Wyler”

       I am asked with some regularity who is my favorite filmmaker?  I always reply without hesitation that it’s William Wyler.  Sadly, most young folks no longer know who William Wyler was, unlike, say, John Ford, Howard Hawks, Alfred Hitchcock, or Billy Wilder.  Nevertheless, for nearly 40 years William Wyler was probably the most respected director in Hollywood.  His films have received twice as many Academy Award nominations and wins as the next two biggest directors combined!  Charlton Heston, at the peak of his career in 1958 (1959 was the real peak), took fifth billing in “The Big Country” just to work with Wyler.  This was a very smart move on Heston’s part for two reasons: A). It’s the best part and best performance of his entire career, and B). It got him the lead in Wyler’s next film, “Ben-Hur,” for which Mr. Heston won the Oscar for Best Actor (which is truly a tribute to Wyler’s abilities since I don’t think any other director that ever lived could have gotten an Oscar-caliber performance out of Heston).
       Beyond any of that, I believe that Wyler made more good movies than any other director.  His consistency was awesome.  Between 1933 with “Counsellor-at-Law” (which is John Barrymore’s best performance on film) to 1968 with “Funny Girl” (which Barbra Streisand’s best performance on film), William Wyler did not make a bad film.  In fact, in those 35 years he almost never even made a mediocre film (with the exceptions of: “The Gay Deception,” in 1935, “The Children’s Hour” [which he made a very good film version of in 1936 called “These Three”] in 1961, and “How to Steal a Million” in 1966).
       William Wyler was not a writer, yet he was most definitely an auteur.  From about 1946 onward he chose his own stories and completely controlled the writing process, bringing in and out the writers he wanted, having scripts worked on for years and finally deciding when it was time to shoot or abandon them.
       Wyler began his directorial career in 1925 churning out innumerable cheap westerns for Universal.  In 1930 Wyler managed to make one of those cheapie westerns, “Hell’s Heroes” (the first sound version of “The Three Godfathers”), into an honest-to-God hit, which resulted in his being moved up to ‘A’ films.  For 10 years Wyler was independent producer, Sam Goldwyn’s, number one director and is responsible for most of Goldwyn’s best films, such as: “These Three,” “Dodsworth,” “Dead End,” “Jezebel,” “Wuthering Heights, “The Letter,” “The Little Foxes,” “The Westerner” and “The Best Years of Our Lives.”  During that time Goldwyn lent Wyler out to MGM (this is back in the days of exclusive contracts) and he made “Mrs. Miniver,” which won the Oscar for Best Picture and got Wyler his first of three Best Director Oscars -- the only director with more was John Ford with four.
       Even though William Wyler is my favorite director, I do not try to emulate him in my own directorial technique and never will.  He was renowned for shooting many, many takes, being very hard on actors -- after making Henry Fonda do 40 takes in “Jezebel,” Wyler’s only direction between takes being, “Again,” Fonda broke down and demanded to know what the problem was?  Wyler casually replied, “It stinks.  Do it again.”  And they kept right on going -- as well as frequently going over schedule and over budget.  I don’t and won’t do any of those things.  I think it’s very important to get along with the actors, come in on time and on budget.  If this means I’ll never be as good as Wyler -- and I doubt that I ever will be; by the time he was my age he had made twelve very good to great films and already won an Oscar -- then so be it.  I love Wyler’s films, but I can’t work that way.
       William Wyler had a theory that after about 35 takes an actor gets so angry and exasperated that they shed all of their preconceived notions about acting and the part they’re playing and move to a truer, higher level.  The real problem with this approach is that once you push an actor that far you’d better be prepared to go to those lengths on every shot just for the sake of consistency.  This would make for a lot of hard feelings on his sets.  Bette Davis, who considered Wyler the best director she ever worked with, walked off the set of one of his films and wouldn’t return for two weeks.  Nevertheless, any time he offered her a part she immediately took it.  When she worked for Wyler she was always nominated for an Oscar, and she won her second Oscar for Wyler's film, "Jezebel" (her first was for the non-Wyler film, "Dangerous").  On the set of “The Big Country,” about 30 or 40 takes in, Carroll Baker broke down and screamed, “Why are you doing this to me?”
       Wyler casually replied, “That’s easy.  They pay me to get you to do what I want you to do.  Now do it again.”
       As I grow older the concept of “Entertainment” annoys me more and more.  We’ve reached a point when entertainment is synonymous with thoughtlessness.  William Wyler always made entertaining films that were never thoughtless.  I believe that Wyler never pandered to a wider audience.  From early on in his career he was intent on making thoughtful adult films and never went back on that idea.
       William Wyler came to prominence in 1936 when he -- very oddly for him -- had three films out: “Dodsworth,” “These Three” and a co-directing credit (with Howard Hawks) on “Come and Get It.”  The last film was done as a favor to producer Sam Goldwyn and I don’t feel that it is legitimately part of Wyler’s ouevre.  Best Picture in 1936 went to “The Great Ziegfeld,” a dreadfully overlong biopic loaded with dull, overblown musical numbers.  Best Director went to Frank Capra for “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,” the first of Capra’s average-idiot movies and the film that introduced the word “doodle” into the American lexicon.
       I believe that Frank Capra began pandering to public tastes with this film and never stopped for the rest of his career.  Pandering begins with the question, What do “they” want?  “They” being the simple-minded, unwashed masses.  To not pander, in my opinion, one must begin with the question, What do I honestly think is good?
       I will digress for a moment.  I have always viewed the Best Director Oscar this way (I will use 1980 as my example) -- could Robert Redford, who won the Best Director Oscar that year for “Ordinary People,” have directed “Raging Bull?” (which was nominated and lost and, in my humble opinion, should have won).  Could Martin Scorsese have directed “Ordinary People?”  I think Scorsese could have directed “Ordinary People” without much trouble and would have made as good a film (different, certainly, but no doubt as good).  Could Redford have directed “Raging Bull?”  Never.  Not in a million years.
       All right.  Could William Wyler have directed “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town?”  Certainly.  No problem.  Could Frank Capra have directed either “Dodsworth” or “These Three?”  Never.  There are no examples in Capra’s career that are nearly as intelligent as these two Wyler films (the only film that comes close is “American Madness” in 1932).  Whereas Wyler had just made “The Good Fairy” in 1935, which, though somewhat zanier than Capra’s stuff, is still a great example of that same sort of goofy, populist, the-average-person-comes-out-on-top, storytelling (with a wonderful script by Preston Sturges).  As another digression, Wyler and Capra were in business together for a while right after World War 2.  Their company, Liberty Films, produced one film, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  Wyler took a script with him when he left the company, “Roman Holiday,” a film that Frank Capra wanted to do and probably would have done well.  But Wyler did “Roman Holiday” as well as it could be done, and discovered Audrey Hepburn at the same time.
       A digression within a digression -- William Wyler discovered, or at least directed the early big, career-launching films of a number of big actors: Audrey Hepburn, Barbra Streisand in “Funny Girl,” Anthony Perkins in “Friendly Persuasion,” Henry Fonda in “Jezebel,” the Dead End Kids and Humphrey Bogart in “Dead End,” Laurence Olivier in “Wuthering Heights,” Lee Grant in “Detective Story,” Montgomery Clift in “The Heiress,” and, of course, Haya Harareet in “Ben Hur.”
       Which brings me to the next reason why I admire William Wyler so much: he changed subjects all the time.  You say John Ford and you think western (which is a bit unfair); you say Frank Capra and it’s those populist pictures; you say Howard Hawks and it’s men’s stories; Hitchcock, suspense; Scorsese, tough guys, etc.  You say William Wyler and all that comes to my mind is “Good Movies.”  What his films have in common is that they’re all good and they’re all different.
       There is no way on Earth you can tell that the same guy made “Wuthering Heights” “Roman Holiday” “Detective Story,” “Ben Hur” “The Collector” and “Funny Girl”!!!
       When I was ten or eleven years old I stayed up after everyone had gone to sleep to watch “Dead End” on TV.  I think that I was expecting to see a film like “Angels With Dirty Faces,” also with the Dead End Kids and Bogart, but made two years later in 1939.  I remember turning off the TV after the film was over and actually having to sit there and think about what I had just seen, deeply upset by the realistic depiction of poverty and violence.  But this was an old Hollywood movie with the Bowery Boys and Humphrey Bogart shot entirely on a set (although, admittedly, it’s a damn good set).  What the heck was going on?  I can’t say that at that moment I became aware of William Wyler because I didn’t.  I just felt really bad for those characters and the plight of the human species that could cause such squalor and awful behavior.  I also recall attempting to discuss this feeling with my parents and having absolutely no idea where to begin.
       What William Wyler, with the author Sidney Kingsley, did to the eleven-year old me is what I think movies do best.  I was completely transported to the grim, dirty, poverty-ridden New York streets of 1937 in the middle of the depression and I was in total empathy.
       My relief when Walter Huston decides to stay with Mary Astor in “Dodsworth” is real.  My shock at Bette Davis arriving at the big ball in a red dress is real.  My horror at seeing beams of light coming through bullet holes in the roof of the car in “Mrs. Miniver” is real, too.  Homer arriving home after the war with hooks instead of hands is as real as movies have ever gotten.  Montgomery Clift pounding on the door at the end of “The Heiress.”  Princess Audrey Hepburn asleep on a bench in Rome.  Kirk Douglas going into a complete and total meltdown when he hears his wife, Eleanor Parker, has had an abortion (in 1951!).  Feeling the helplessness of Fredric March and his family being held hostage by Bogart in “The Desperate Hours.”  Feeling the overwhelming horror of having taken the life of another person as young Anthony Perkins touches the body of the southern boy he just killed during the Civil War.
       But I go on and on.
       William Wyler’s mission was to get me to care about these characters in this situation, whatever it may be, and he succeeded almost every time.  That’s what I think the primary job of a filmmaker is and that’s why Wyler is my favorite director.

Josh Becker