{"id":13127,"date":"2011-03-18T15:23:07","date_gmt":"2011-03-18T19:23:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=13127"},"modified":"2011-03-18T15:23:07","modified_gmt":"2011-03-18T19:23:07","slug":"the-writers-of-hollywood","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/03\/18\/the-writers-of-hollywood\/","title":{"rendered":"The Writers of Hollywood"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"

Bradley Cooper as Eddie Morra. <\/p><\/div>\n

Early in the movie Limitless<\/em>, we follow protagonist Eddie Morra as he shuffles aimlessly down a street in New York\u2019s Chinatown. Observed from a distance, Eddie barely registers onscreen. He has a scraggly ponytail and a beat-up jacket. One hand is wrapped in grubby surgical tape. His attitude is at once hostile and cowering. He could probably use a shave, a shower, and a sandwich, but something more is wrong, something fundamental about Eddie himself. In voice-over, Eddie uses his career to explain his unsavory appearance: \u201cWhat kind of guy without a drug or alcohol problem looks this way? Only a writer.\u201d<\/p>\n

In movies, writers are only slightly less morally repugnant than serial killers (unless the writer is<\/em> a serial killer). According to Hollywood, writers are either parasites (Deconstructing Harry<\/em>, Barton Fink<\/em>, Capote<\/em>, Misery<\/em>); perverts (The Squid and the Whale<\/em>, Adaptation<\/em>, Wonder Boys<\/em>, American Splendor<\/em>); addicts (Permanent Midnight<\/em>, Barfly<\/em>, Leaving Las Vegas<\/em>, Sideways<\/em>), or sociopaths (La Piscine<\/em>, Deathtrap<\/em>, The Shining<\/em>). They have monstrous egos and tiny, wizened hearts. Their moral compasses are permanently cracked; their personal relationships are cynically contrived to produce \u201cexperience,\u201d\u00a0which they feed to the insatiable maw of their craft. They are creatively constipated. They practice poor personal hygiene. They are not lovely to look at. It almost goes without saying that they are almost always male.<\/p>\n

\"\"

Paul Giamatti as Miles in Sideways<\/em>. <\/p><\/div>\n

Eddie is played by Bradley Cooper, which means he never really looks that<\/em> bad. But he exhibits all the signs of cinematic loserdom. He lives in a non-picturesquely disheveled walk-up, is late on the rent, drinks too much, and reeks of self-pitying desperation. When his ex-wife\u2019s brother gives him a pill that will help him finish his novel, Eddie swallows it down without a second thought. This is not a man with a strong sense of self.<\/p>\n

The pill works, and here\u2019s where the movie gets strange\u2014not because Eddie suddenly acquires powers of superconcentration and hyperproductiveness, but because of what happens to his writing. Within a week Eddie has finished his novel, but, compared to the amount of time the movie spends on a montage of self-improvement\u2014our hero gets a haircut, cleans his apartment, bangs out a few sets of crunches at the gym, and is fitted for a new suit\u2014this feat barely registers onscreen (a quick shot of a hefty stack of pages dropped with a thunk on his editor\u2019s desk).<\/p>\n

\"\"

Jack Nicholson as Jack Torrance in The Shining<\/em>.<\/p><\/div>\n

Limitless<\/em> was written by Leslie Dixon (Freaky Friday<\/em>, Mrs. Doubtfire<\/em>, The Thomas Crowne Affair<\/em>). The script began, as so many do, as a novel\u2014in this case, a sci-fi thriller, or, as one Amazon reviewer breathlessly terms it, a \u201cneuropsychopharmacological update of the Icarus myth\u201d\u2014named The Dark Fields<\/em> by Irish writer Alan Glynn. To translate the book to the screen, Dixon simplified the plot, added some chase scenes, and multiplied the body count. When asked what Glynn thinks of the movie, Dixon said, \u201cIt\u2019s not exactly to his taste, but, uh \u2026 he can pay off his mortgage.\u201d<\/p>\n

The idea of a pill that enables the quick and painless completion of a novel is obviously attractive\u2014the idea of a pill that enables the quick and painless completion of an article is attractive\u2014but inherent in that attraction, presumably, is the promise that the resulting manuscript be not entirely cringe inducing. If writers just wanted the ability to manically clean their apartments and babble confidently at cocktail parties, they\u2019d spent their advances on coke (and some do). If writers just wanted to crank out some quasi-intelligible sentences as fast as possible, they\u2019d write screenplays.<\/p>\n

This is where Limitless<\/em> extends its bad faith beyond its depiction of writers to the act of writing itself. The movie wants us simultaneously to believe that Eddie\u2019s chosen career explains his slothlike behavior in the beginning of the film (writers are losers) and his eagerness to take questionable controlled substances (writers are addicts), while also understanding that his novel is what\u2019s keeping him from reaching his full potential. (The pills he take allow him to access one hundred percent of his brain, as opposed to the 10 percent the rest of us poor hacks supposedly have to make do with.) And once the bodies start piling up, we shouldn\u2019t be surprised, should we? (Writers are sociopaths.)<\/p>\n

After Eddie turns in his novel, we don\u2019t see him type another word. Having conquered that whole novelist thing, he\u2019s on to brighter prospects or, as he cryptically puts it, \u201csomething bigger.\u201d\u00a0He doesn\u2019t tell us what that something is, but it involves wearing white linen on a tropical island, trading large amounts of stock, sassing Robert DeNiro, driving recklessly, and possibly killing a girl he meets in a nightclub. Writing, like mid-afternoon drinking, is a bad habit he no longer has time for once he becomes a Wall Street player in an expensive suit and sticky hairdo. Judging from the fact we never hear mention of his novel again, it\u2019s not a great sacrifice. Because this is the other Hollywood trope: every writer is a sellout.<\/p>\n

\"\"

Eddie after his transformation.<\/p><\/div>\n

What makes this all especially odd is that movies come from scripts, and scripts come from writers. While Hollywood\u2019s depictions of most professions serve as shorthand character description (lawyers are sneaky, chefs are sexy, teachers are mousy and unassertive), you\u2019d think writers might have a vested interest in portraying their own kind sympathetically. Of course, it\u2019s possible that screenwriters hold such little clout that they can\u2019t control what happens from the page to the screen. Or maybe screenwriters really think writers are losers\u2014they\u2019re\u00a0the only people who wield even less power than they do.<\/p>\n

In Glynn\u2019s novel, Eddie is a copywriter for a small publishing house. His transformation from copywriter in the book to novelist in the movie may seem a small, but it\u2019s significant. Copywriters, like screenwriters, are essentially wage workers, producing prose to fit someone else\u2019s specifications. The idea of a copywriter abandoning his day job once he doesn\u2019t need the paycheck is completely plausible; no one churns out copy for love of the craft. One assumes that a novelist will be more invested in the notion of his \u201ccareer\u201d\u2014that he will continue writing\u2014even as he pursues that \u201csomething bigger,\u201d which, in Eddie\u2019s case, turns out to be politics. But maybe Dixon knew better. In an interview promoting the film, she admitted to being \u201cburned out\u201d\u00a0on screenwriting. After she finishes doing press for Limitless<\/em>, she\u2019s going to take some time off\u2014to work on a novel.<\/p>\n

Jennie Yabroff writes about art and culture for <\/em>Newsweek.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Early in the movie Limitless, we follow protagonist Eddie Morra as he shuffles aimlessly down a street in New York\u2019s Chinatown. Observed from a distance, Eddie barely registers onscreen. He has a scraggly ponytail and a beat-up jacket. One hand is wrapped in grubby surgical tape. His attitude is at once hostile and cowering. 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