The Bad and The Beautiful

This is an oldie we got here, but it’s got a sophisticated script with some real clever devices that had me thinking quite a bit this past week. The Bad and The Beautiful (1952) is a film set within a film of sorts. One of the first films to detach from the surrealism of the industry and focus in on a group of people in the industry, much of the setting was within studios or staged as commentary against the real Hollywood.

For the hero of this relentless saga is a Hollywood producer who is a heel, a West Coast, Noel Cowardish scoundrel, a perfect Kirk Douglas-type bum. And the fine job of drawing him and quartering him that is done in the course of two hours by a top staff of Metro dissectors is enough to make the blood run sour and cold.

First, they slit him down the middle and show, in considerable detail, how he blandly double-crosses a director who has helped him through his early struggling years. Then they lop off another portion and show, in even greater detail, how he drags and romances a sad young actress to glittering triumph and then gives her the air. Finally, with what’s left, they show us how he baits a young author to Hollywood, then throws the guy’s wife to a wolfish actor just so he’ll be free to work on a script. (New York Times, January 16, 1953)

Coming around full-circle, Shields is out of business after his film, written by the widower James Lee Bartlow, fails to meet his standards of excellence. Begging for one more shot at a great film, his three ex-partners are now shining stars in the business. In the end, we’re left with an ambiguous ending, huddled over a telephone eavesdropping on a call between Shields and his financial backer, not knowing whether they’d forgive him and take the deal or laugh and walk away.

Bordering the notion of good or bad, Jonathan Shield’s is a character driven by excellence and success. By the virtues of his flaws, he is able to transform any situation into a golden opportunity, though leaving a mess behind in the process. While stealing Fred’s brilliant film idea, womanizing Georgia and deceiving her into love, and accidentally sending James’ wife to her death in a horrifying plane crash, he focused in on his job and made it work. While business is strictly business, he lacked the compassion that would have saved his friendships, but also hinder his path to success.

So, as someone who is bound to the creative field, what choices do I make? I certainly do feel motivated. In fact, sometimes I am driven too strongly by the scent of success. Perhaps the greatest acknowledgement would be my concession to any semblance of a normal life. Either I am driven by my work, or driven by a drive for happiness. Unless the two are mutually exclusive, it seems that the rest of the world will have to wait in line for me to stay put in one place long enough.

I empathize with Jonathan Shields. He’s an enabler who makes all the unethical sacrifices to get the job done. What scares me is the dehumanized manner in which business is assumed. Business is business after all, right?

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