The other day I found myself watching a bunch of interviews with grumpy auteur/screenwriter Charlie Kaufman on Youtube and it made me want to drag an old chestnut out of the closet. Back in San Francisco, toward the end of my years there, I worked for a wretched glossy advertorial rag called 7×7. My one fond memory of that time was when I got to interview Spike Jonze and Charlie Kaufman when their film “Adaptation” was released. I ended up writing 5,000+ words about the experience, of which 7×7 published . . . 100. The rest never saw the light of print, but I think it’s kinda fun, and I hope you do to. I’ll post it here in segments over the next week or so.
ADAPTING SPIKE AND CHARLIE, pt. 1
One Friday in late-October, my editor calls, tells me she’s got something fun for me if I’ve got time: a screening of a new film and interview with Spike Jonze and Charlie Kaufman. I yawn loudly and tell my editor that, sure, I think I can squeeze it in.
I hang up the phone and jump up and down shouting “Yessss!” and pumping my fist for a moment before rushing to my computer for some 411 on mssrs. Jonze and Kaufman and their new film, “Adaptation.” Since I started at 7×7, this is my first chance for me to A.) interview someone that really interests me and B.) write about something firsthand rather than from phone interviews and press releases.
I learn from an obsessive fan website (beingcharliekaufman.tripod.com) that Kaufman hates the press, and especially abhors having his picture taken. Great. I find out that Spike’s about five years younger than me (33) and Charlie’s six older (44), that Spike got his start working with the Beastie Boys and with skater-turned-artist Mark Gonzalez, and that he’s married to Sophia Coppola. I start working the phone. A friend who’s just two degrees of kevinbacon from Spike tells me he’s a good ping-pong player and that he sometimes takes on zany, antagonistic personae when dealing with the press. And now it dawns on me, I am that “press” – not the fellow artist, not even a fan, I am the press.
I’m invited to attend either a private screening of the film on Tuesday or a larger word-of-mouth public screening on Thursday, and then participate in a round table interview with Spike and Charlie on Friday. By Tuesday morning, after reading half of “The Orchid Thief,” Susan Orlean’s book upon which the movie is very loosely based, and stuffing my brain with Spike and Charlie trivia and re-watching “Being John Malkovich,” (Spike and Charlie’s previous collaboration that set both of their careers ablaze), I’m all atwitter. The whole thing is starting to feel like a blind date; I mean, I’ve asked my friends about Spike and Charlie, I’ve googled them, you know – the usual pre-first-meeting routine, and, baby, I like what I see. I don’t really begin to worry until I catch myself trying on outfits and wondering whether I should get a haircut before Friday.
* * *
On Tuesday morning, I arrive at a snazzy screening room in downtown San Francisco. The lobby’s empty, so I wander into the dark theater to find that, but for one other writer and two women who work for the publicist, I’m here alone – Spike and Charlie are screening their new movie for ME. The room is like one of those small-screen rooms at an art house theater, only way more mod and cushy. I disappear into a huge, soft seat, open my notebook and settle in.
“Adaptation” starts with voiceover: Nicolas Cage as slouched, anxious Charlie Kaufman sits hunched and brooding over a typewriter, speaks in thoughtful voiceover: “To begin.” Long pause. “I don’t have an original thought in my head.” He continues, struggling to put those tortured first words on a blank page, then drifts: “Coffee would help me think . . . coffee and a muffin.” He pushes on, the creative mind at work, “Banana nut is a good muffin.”
And, just like that, I’m hooked. I’m “Charlie” all over, only without all that bothersome success of the real Charlie K. The neuroses, the muffin, the blank page: all me me me. The film then begins its often frenetic jumps back and forth between Charlie and twin brother Donald’s L.A. and Orlean’s New York and LaRoche’s Florida swamp with millions of stops in between until the three worlds inevitably collide. As the film progresses, I notice a few problems with “Adaptaion” – inconsistencies, occasional odd choices – but the film’s so chock-full of amazing stuff (including one incredible scene involving Meryl Streep, Chris Cooper, and a dial tone) that when it’s over I sit stunned. I leave the screening in a thrall and emerge, dazed, into the shocking midday sunlight.
Perhaps I’m unduly influenced by the fact that I’m actually being wooed by a publicist after years of begging for publicity as a writer/performer. Perhaps, no definitely, I’m being too much a fan, not enough a journalist. But fuck it: the movie is funny, it’s clever, it’s moving, it’s good art *and* a good flick, and how often does that happen these days? They had me at “I don’t
have an original thought in my head.”
Two days later, there’ll be that public screening in Berkeley and a Q&A with Charlie and Spike afterwards. There’s no reason for me to go; I’ve already seen the film and I’ll be interviewing them on Friday. And I don’t have time, anyway.
(to be continued)
