Short stories
have made interesting feature films. In the UK, short-story writer Alan
Sillitoe adapted his short story The
Loneliness of the Long-distance Runner into a film screenplay to make a
film classic—Tony Richardson’s The
Loneliness of the Long-distance Runner (1962). A few years later, in USA, John
Cheever’ s short story published in 1964 (in the New Yorker magazine) was made into a 1968 Hollywood film directed by Frank Perry and Sydney
Pollack called The Swimmer (1968).
But unlike the British film, in the case of the Hollywood film, it was not the
author Cheever who wrote the screenplay but director Frank Perry’s wife Eleanor
Perry, a feminist, who did. Cheever merely played a cameo role in the
film, probably to lend his tacit approval to the project. And happily for us Ms Eleanor Perry, substantively
improves the Cheever story. In fact this
screenplay ought to be studied and appreciated by potential screenplay writers.
Having read
the short story, one appreciates Cheever’s ability at writing thought provoking
fiction and his engaging skill of keeping the reader hooked. Then along comes Eleanor Perry who introduces
more characters into the tale and develops the tale by changing the chronology
of events and making the lead character Ned (Neddy in the short story) Merrill
into a vain, WASP womanizer (played by Burt Lancaster). While the original
short story begins with Ned’s wife Lucinda speaking a line about drinking too
much the previous night, the film’s screenplay never includes her spoken words
and never allows the film to show her physically on screen and only builds up Lucinda’s character
by other women’s acidic comments about her. One comment from
Ned’s friend Shirley (Janice Rule) describes Lucinda as "an aging Vassar girl in an understated suit"
(an Eleanor Perry add-on, not be found in the short story).
In the story and
in the film, Ned swims an abstract river he calls the “Lucinda” river ("Pool by pool they form a river, all the way
to our house," are the words of Ned/Neddy) where his wife Lucinda is waiting
for him and his four daughters are playing tennis. The banks of this imaginary
river of swimming pools are figuratively populated in the movie by all his neighbors, friends and acquaintances.
Ned (Lancaster) the ladies' man |
The clever
screenplay alludes to the temperature of the pools gradually changing from the
warm water to the cold as the film progresses.
The cleanliness of the pools, the sophistication of the cleaning processes
deteriorates pool by pool, until the last one is cleaned by mere excess of chlorine.
And so does the wealth of the users, pool by pool in the screenplay, until you come to the pool used by shopkeepers and the working class. (This final progression is absent in the short
story.) The sunny blue sky at the beginning of the
film gradually becomes cloudy until the film ends in a heavy, cold downpour (all
within a span of a day, film begins in the morning, ends in the evening). (In
the Cheever short story, Ned encounters the storm midway on his strange
odyssey.) The two writers agree on one fact though—while nature can be kind and
lovely, it can be equally chilly and dirty. People, as well.
Now, dear
reader, one would assume that most studios and producers would have been
excited by the cinematic product. The reality was
just the opposite. Actor Burt Lancaster, who loved the role, was the only one who
believed in the film but chose to butt heads with director Fred Perry, the husband
of the film's praiseworthy screenplay writer Eleanor Perry. The rancor reached a
level where director Perry who had almost completed the film was fired by its producer
Sam Spiegel (Lawrence of Arabia, Bridge
on the River Kwai, On the Waterfront, etc) at Lancaster’s cajoling and
replaced him with newcomer Sydney Pollack,
who reshot two key segments of the film, one with Janice Rule replacing the
original actress. Sam Spiegel did not realize what a wonderful film was being
made and voluntarily took his own name off the credits sensing it was a disaster! The studio, Columbia, responsible for
the film, stopped financing the film towards the end. It appears that Lancaster put
his own money in to complete the film, which doesn’t mention Sydney Pollack as
a director in the film credits. (The two
segments unofficially attributed to Pollack as the director are the pool sequence with
Janice Rule and the sequence with Ned running a race with a stallion.) While actor Lancaster probably is the one who made the completion of this lovely film possible, a close evaluation of the Frank Perry directed sequences proves beyond doubt that those segments are equally commendable.
Today, as the film is gaining in appreciation worldwide, the Hollywood studio and Spiegel have been proved wrong in their initial assessment of the film's worth.
Today, as the film is gaining in appreciation worldwide, the Hollywood studio and Spiegel have been proved wrong in their initial assessment of the film's worth.
Ned (Lancaster) realizes that his lovely hot dog wagon has been sold by his wife Lucinda, and he is thrown out by the owner of the pool and wagon for being a gate crasher |
The film
begins with an unforgettable credit sequence. Birds and animals scurry away
frightened in the woods. We do not know why they are frightened. We hear sounds
of an animal or human being. At the end of the credits, we realize the sound was
created by a barefoot man wearing nothing save his swimming trunks. By the end of the movie, the credit sequence
takes a new dimension of our perception—did the animals and birds recognize the psychological
state of the man? After the first swim in the first pool, Ned is served his gin
and lime without being asked by a lady friend as he tries to climb out of the
pool. The camera zooms in on Ned’s face partly obscured by the glass holding
the drink. That shot gains importance for the viewer in retrospect. Similarly,
the public swimming pool sequence where the financial condition of Ned is brought
to light, Ned escapes the public frantically climbing the rock face like a lizard.
The man who scared animals and birds at the beginning of the film seemed to
resemble a reptile at the end. (Again, this sequence with all the colorful conversations
at the public pool, was not part of Cheever’s story—it is a contribution of Eleanor
Perry and possibly, Frank Perry.)
Shirley (Janice Rule) deflates the ego of vain Ned (Lancaster), in a segment directed by Sydney Pollack |
Screenwriter Eleanor
Perry is the real heavyweight in the wonderful film. She contributed to the
inclusion of Ned’s debtors in the public swimming pool sequence, never included in Cheever's story. She invented
the humiliating forced cleaning of Ned’s feet before entering the swimming
pool. She added on the hotdog cart element in an earlier swimming pool
sequence, which was also not in the Cheever story. She adds on other vignettes
to build the authenticity of Ned’s character. Ned is a whiz at rectifying engines
that are out of sync, as he rectifies a golf cart’s engine without being asked,
because his ears could pick up the fault. Eleanor Perry ensures the viewer
realizes that Ned’s character (a WASP or a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant) has a
good knowledge of the Bible enough to quote from The Song of Solomon correctly. She builds up the character of Ned as a
betraying husband, a bad father, an unreliable friend, and an uncouth
neighbor. He is apparently a successful technocrat who has made a lot of money
and is never ready to listen to advice from well-meaning males, but is able seduce
a lot of women, who in turn idolize him due to their immaturity or for their devious personal desires. Ms Perry, a feminist, is plucking the feathers off a male
peacock, as a once successful old man looks back at this past, his youth, his
physical ability to nearly out-run a horse, with a large dose of vanity mixed in his cocktail
drinks.
Ned comes across a swimming pool without water--and for once speaks with concern for others, this time to a lonely rich boy |
Eleanor Perry
cleverly juggled the public swimming pool sequence to be the last pool in the “Lucinda”
river of pools, while Cheever had inserted the public pool in the middle. By doing so, she
ensured, Ned’s worst unmasking was at the end of the film among the string of pools. She also ensured the gradual
descent of the rich to the poor, pool by pool, among Ned’s neighbors, friends
and acquaintances. After the rich pools, Ned comes, across an empty pool, where
he meets a young boy. That is a single sequence in the film that allows the
viewer to admire Ned’s concern for the lonely child. This again is an added
contribution of the screenplay writer to Cheever’s tale—which merely makes a
passing mention of an empty pool. Ms Perry balances the script well—it begins
with swimming pools full of inviting clean water, moves on to a pool without
water, followed by pools with poor quality water for which you have to pay, and
finally cold rain lashing at a dirty house without a pool. In the Cheever story,
a character Enid Bunker (included in the screenplay) speaks of just having
spoken to Lucinda over the phone. In the film, (and Ms Perry’s script) Enid Bunker does not mention Lucinda at all. Others refer to Lucinda in the past tense in the
film. The subtle change Ms Perry has made to Cheever’s story only strengthens it. Cheever's tale was a social satire. and Ms Perry, as a feminist, makes him the quixotic male chauvinist who lives in a world of vanity and, ultimately, make believe. Cheever's Lucinda was partly real, Ms Perry's Lucinda seems to be more unreal and more a female character inhabiting a disintegrating male mind.
Ned reaches his home after swimming across all the pools in his neighborhood, after slowly realizing the mistakes of his past vain and inconsiderate life |
The couple Frank
and Eleanor Perry had made Diary of a
Mad Housewife (1970) which was at best an above average work. But Frank Perry had the courage to make Monsignor (1982) from Abraham Polonsky’s
screenplay subsequent to Polonsky’s blacklisting by the McCarthy hearings in
1951.
Thanks to the
Perrys, Sydney Pollack, and Burt Lancaster, we have a gem of a Hollywood film in The Swimmer.
P.S. The Swimmer narrowly missed being included on the author’s top 100 films, which currently includes another Sydney Pollack and Burt Lancaster film Castle
Keep made a year after this film. The Swimmer is the second film in which a rich actor influenced the making of an
important film in the way we see it today. Actor Kirk Douglas influenced the acclaimed director Stanley
Kubrick to change the ending of Paths of Glory (1957), reviewed earlier on
this blog.