Hence my nervousness that the property could get away from us

In the late 1950s, producer David O. Selznick and director Billy Wilder had plans to make a film together, starring Jennifer Jones, Selznick's wife, in the female lead. The letter for this post shows that the two wanted to make a film adaptation of a story by Austrian author Stefan Zweig, although it's unclear which of Zweig's works they were planning to film. In any case, it was a Zweig story dealing with an adult subject, which was previously considered taboo. At the time of Selznick's letter to Wilder, the Zweig property had not been purchased yet and Selznick worried that, if they didn't act quickly, it might slip away from them. 

Of Selznick's five-page missive to Wilder, this is the first page. "The [Audrey] Hepburn picture", mentioned by Selznick, is Love in the Afternoon (1957), and "the diamond story" is likely Some Like it Hot (1959). Paul Kohner, referenced in the letter, was a prominent agent hired to secure the rights to the Zweig property.

Source: RR Auction

Transcript:

28 May 1958

Mr. Billy Wilder

Samuel Goldwyn Studios

North Formosa

Hollywood, California

Dear Billy:

I am terribly afraid lest Jennifer's fervent desire, and what I had understood was your desire, to make the Zweig story with her —and to make it after you had finished the Hepburn picture and the diamond story at the latest (unless, unexpectedly, it became possible to do it earlier)— is getting all snarled up, in consequence of mysterious goings-on which frankly I don't understand. To obviate the possibility of any misunderstandings, I should like to impose upon you this statement of my position, which normally I would have thought quite unnecessary.

As you know, MCA is our agent for Jennifer, and our dealings with them have been through George Chasin. As is my wont, I have by memoranda informed Chasin of our conversations concerning the matter, and have further expressed my views, as they occurred to me, in the hope that it could be expedited, and out of my fear that the property might fall into the hands of somebody else. I am aware that the property has been around for a long time without it being bought; but the danger of it falling into other hands is, in my opinion, enormously aggravated by what could become the knowledge, if indeed this has not already happened, that you want to do it, that Jennifer wants to do it, that I am interested in it; and, at the very least, this could substantially boost the price— which, from what I understand of your own plans, could be most damaging to you personally. Furthermore, the principal reason why it has not been picked up sooner by others is obvious: the subject matter is of a sort that would have made it taboo until the recent easing, from a practical standpoint, of regulations on adult subjects. Additionally, there is apparently the complication about the French rights, which I was glad to hear from you Kohner thought he could clear up; but which would have kept many companies, particularly the European producing units, from wanting it; but since this apparently can be cleaned up, and since further this would not necessarily today be a deterrent to American companies (who are only able to exhibit a fraction of their pictures in France anyway, because of quotas), this too is no longer a factor upon which we can rely to obviate competition. Hence my nervousness that the property could get away from us while we were going through these elaborate manoeuvers and delays. 

****

Below is the last page of Selznick's letter (the other pages are not provided by the source). Walter Mirisch, mentioned here, was an independent producer and produced many of Wilder's films through The Mirisch Corporation. Interestingly, Selznick also mentions William Wyler, the renowned director; Wyler too is named as a possible producer and one of the potential buyers of the Zweig property (either independently or perhaps in partnership with Wilder). At any rate, Selznick's main concern was clearly to purchase the rights to the property before competitors did, with the matter of ownership and possible production structures to be settled later. 

Henry Citron, also mentioned in the letter, was a MCA agent, like George Chasin.

Transcript:

If, on the other hand, you still wish to wait for Mirisch's return, that is also all right with me; and in this case I should appreciate your consent to my telling Jennifer that you are going to go forward with Mirisch, if he is agreeable. And, finally, I do again urge that we instruct Kohner to close. By the time the copyright could be cleared and the contracts drawn, we would presumably know whether it has been approved by Mirisch or by Wyler; and we could then simply insert the name of the buyer -- whether you, or myself, or Mirisch, or Wilder-Wyler, or whatever other company or unit does go forward with it. 

You decide the course of action, or of inaction, as the case may be: let me know, and I will follow it precisely. 

You are of course perfectly free to show this letter to Citron and/or to Chasin.

Affectionate regards.

Cordially,

'David' (signed)

****

In the end, the project never happened, and Selznick and Wilder never worked together. In August of the same year, Wilder started filming Some Like It Hot, generally considered one of the best comedies of all time (despite Selznick's warning to Wilder beforehand that gangsters and comedy didn't mix). Selznick, by contrast, would never produce a picture again. While he kept looking for projects, his last film remained Charles Vidor's A Farewell to Arms, which was released in December 1957.

Incidentally, other than this letter, I could find no more information about this unrealised Selznick-Wilder project. 

David Selznick (right) with Rock Hudson and Jennifer Jones, the stars of the last film he ever produced, A Farewell to Arms (1957). 

In the summer of 1958, instead of working with Selznick, Billy Wilder (right) started shooting Some Like It Hot (1959); here he is pictured on the set with one of his stars, Marilyn Monroe, and Maurice Chevalier who paid them a visit. 

If I ever weaken and begin to pretty my characters up, I shall remember your Walter and be fortified

It was a real treat to watch Double Indemnity (1944) again, not having seen it in years. Directed by Billy Wilder and based on the novella of the same name by James M. Cain, Double Indemnity is generally regarded as the first true film noir, setting the standard for other noirs that followed (it's the first noir to have "venetian blind" lighting and voice-over narration). For those not familiar with the story, it's about an insurance salesman who is seduced by a housewife into murdering her husband. The murder is made to look like an accident in order to collect the insurance money (to collect twice the amount in fact, thanks to a double indemnity clause in the policy). James Cain's novella was adapted for the screen by Billy Wilder and crime author Raymond Chandler who, despite disliking each other and having great difficulty working together, delivered a superb screenplay with razor-sharp dialogue.

Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray were cast as the leads (as respectively Phyllis Dietrichson and Walter Neff), both reluctant at first to accept their roles. Barbara, being Wilder's first choice, later recalled how she was hired: "... because it was an unsympathetic character I was a little frightened of it and, when I went back to [Wilder's] office I said: “I love the script and I love you, but I am a little afraid after all these years of playing heroines to go into an out-and-out cold-blooded killer.” And Mr. Wilder - and rightly so - looked at me and he said, “Well, are you a mouse or an actress?” And I said, “Well, I hope I’m an actress.” He said, “Then do the part.” And I did and I’m very grateful to him."

Above: On the set of Double Indemnity with (l-r) Billy Wilder, Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck and Raymond Chandler. Below: Stanwyck and MacMurray, both perfectly cast and terrific in their roles, pictured in several scenes from the film. The two had great chemistry, with Double Indemnity being the second of four films they made together (the other three being Remember the Night (1940), The Moonlighter (1953) and There's Always Tomorrow (1956)). 

Fred MacMurray had the same qualms about accepting the role as Stanwyck. Until then he had only played nice guys in lighter fare and was not at all eager to play a killer. Other actors before MacMurray had rejected the part, including Alan Ladd and George Raft, the latter because the film had no "lapel moment" (i.e. the moment where the male lead would flip over his lapel and reveal his police or FBI badge). As he had Barbara, Billy Wilder eventually persuaded MacMurray to accept the role, reportedly pestering the actor every day until he gave in. MacMurray never regretted his decision to play Walter Neff and later even stated that it was his best role.

Fred MacMurray with the inimitable Edward G. Robinson who plays clever insurance investigator Barton Keyes.

James Cain, who had created Walter Neff, was impressed with MacMurray's handling of the character. In early 1944, the author attended the Los Angeles premiere of Double Indemnity and wanted to tell MacMurray how much he had liked his performance. MacMurray had left the event early, however, so Cain didn't have the opportunity to tell him in person. A letter being the next best thing, Cain wrote to MacMurray on 4 February 1944. Five days later, MacMurray answered Cain's letter, telling the author about his initial reluctance to accept the role, while also expressing his hope to play another Cain character in the future (which ultimately never happened).

A fragment of MacMurray's letter

Dear Mr. Cain — I want to thank you for your very nice letter. As you’ve probably been told, it took a lot of persuading by a number of people to get me to tackle the part. I was crazy about the story — but having never done anything like it, I was afraid to take a crack at it. Even after seeing the finished picture, I was sure I’d given an Academy performance — in underacting! But if you, the author, liked it — that’s good enuff for me! I hope I may sometime have another opportunity to do one of your very interesting characters — Thanks again — Fred MacMurray.

Source of both letters: Library of Congress Blogs

Cain (left) and MacMurray

Double Indemnity was nominated for seven Academy Awards (including nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress and Best Screenplay) but won none. Still, the film was a big success, both with critics and audiences. James Cain himself reportedly saw the film several times and once said: "It's the only picture I ever saw made from my books that had things in it I wish I had thought of." 

Another Double Indemnity fan was author Charles Jackson who, shortly after viewing it, wrote the following letter full of praise to Billy Wilder. Jackson was the author of the bestselling novel The Lost Weekend (1944), which Wilder would make into a successful film a year later. While Double Indemnity came away empty-handed at the Oscars, The Lost Weekend would win four Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director.

Source: icollector.com

Above: MacMurray, Stanwyck and Wilder on the set of Double Indemnity. Below: Charles Jackson (left) and Billy Wilder with Ray Milland, the latter was cast as the male lead in Wilder's film adaptation of Jackson's novel The Lost Weekend.

Most of my pleasures today are vicarious

In the winter of 1959, Billy Wilder was on location in New York City shooting the exteriors for his film The Apartment (1960). While staying near the United Nations Headquarters, he got the idea to make a Cold War satire involving the U.N. and the Marx Brothers. Groucho Marx liked the idea and Wilder then wrote a 40-page treatment with writing buddy I.A.L. Diamond and gave the film the title A Day At The United Nations. The Marx Brothers were to play robbers who, after stealing suitcases full of diamonds from Tiffany's, are mistaken for the UN's Latvian delegation (read in detail here). 

The making of A Day At The United Nations was officially announced in the press in November 1960 but unfortunately the film never saw the light of day. Harpo suffered a heart attack and Chico died shortly thereafter, ruling out the possibility of another Marx Brothers film ever being made. Wilder did make his Cold War comedy eventually, i.e. One, Two, Three (1961) starring James Cagney.

In Cameron Crowe's Conversations with Wilder (1999), Wilder talked about the Marx Brothers and their aborted project. (Interestingly, in this interview Wilder mentions Zeppo as one of the four Marx Brothers to appear in the film, while Zeppo had already left the act in 1933.)

We had an idea of doing a Marx Brothers picture set against the background of the United Nations. They were the four representatives of a republic. And that is always good, because the Marx Brothers were at their best against a very serious, pompous background. They were very good in A Night at the Opera because it’s very pompous, the opera. They were also quite good at the race track in Day at the Races. But other things they did, they were not so good because there was nothing good to poke at. I wanted to do a Marx Brothers picture, but then Chico died, and Harpo was very, very unstable. But Groucho was a genius, absolutely a fabulous, fabulous man. They were at Metro. The movie would have been a combination of at least six of their top stars of the early sixties. Zeppo was the leading man. Zeppo as lead was incredible, absolutely incredible. When you went to see A Night at the Opera, you were not disappointed. [Irving] Thalberg was very smart, you know, because he treated it like a serious picture. [via]

And now the letter! Groucho Marx wrote to Billy Wilder on 13 December 1960 —in his typical Groucho way— with the last paragraph of his letter briefly touching upon the subject of their proposed film. (The rest of the letter mostly speaks of Groucho and Wilder exchanging newspaper articles and letters from esteemed screenwriter Nunnally Johnson.)

Source: icollector.com

The best that came out of it was getting to know you

The Spirit of St. Louis (1957) is one of Billy Wilder's lesser known films. Based on the 1953 Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir by Charles Lindbergh --the famous aviator who flew non-stop from New York to Paris in 1927-- the film is often seen as atypical Wilder, lacking what is present in most of Wilder's films: his characteristic humour, cynicism, exploration of the darker side of human nature (mind you, I haven't seen The Spirit of St. Louis so this is based on what I've read). The film was a box-office failure, mainly due to its $6 million budget, and it was also one of the biggest financial failures in the history of Warner Brothers.

Still, it was a film Billy Wilder had wanted to make. As a freelance reporter in Berlin in 1927, Wilder had covered Lindbergh's flight, and he had never forgotten the thrill of this exciting event. Besides, feeling that in Hollywood he was still thought of as a European, Wilder wanted to make a film about a truly American subject.

In the end, Wilder wasn't too happy with The Spirit of St. Louis— he would later say that it was the least favourite of his films. It was Charles Lindbergh who had kept him from making the film he wanted to make. In Conversations with Wilder (1999), a book by Cameron Crowe, Wilder talked about this and how he had envisioned his film:

"I could not get in a little deeper, into Lindbergh’s character. There was a wall there. We were friends, but there were many things I could not talk to him about. It was understood — the picture had to follow the book. The book was immaculate. It had to be about the flight only. Not about his family, about the daughter, the Hauptmann thing, what happened after the flight … just the flight itself.

I heard a story from newspapermen who were there in Long Island waiting for him to take off. And the newspapermen told me a little episode that happened there, and that would have been enough to make this a real picture. 

The episode was that Lindbergh was waiting for the clouds to disappear — the rain and the weather had to be perfect before he took off. There was a waitress in a little restaurant there. She was young, and she was very pretty. And they came to her and said, “Look, this young guy there, Lindbergh, sweet, you know, handsome. He is going to–” “Yes, I know, he is going to fly over the water.” And they said, “It’s going to be a flying coffin, full of gas, and he’s not going to make it. But we come to you for the following reason. The guy has never been laid. Would you do us a favor, please. Just knock on the door, because the guy cannot sleep…” 

So she does it. And then, at the very end of the picture, when there’s the parade down Fifth Avenue, millions of people, and there is that girl standing there in the crowd. She’s waving at him. And he doesn’t see her. She waves her hand at him, during the ticker-tape parade, the confetti raining down. He never sees her. He’s God now. 

This would be, this alone would be, enough to make the picture. Would have been a good scene. That’s right — would have been a good scene. But I could not even suggest it to him. " [via]

Perhaps not surprisingly, Charles Lindbergh himself was pleased with the final result. On 9 April 1957, he wrote a letter to Billy Wilder thanking and praising him for his picture. Wilder responded two weeks later, stating: "As far as I'm concerned, the best that came out of it was getting to know you".

Transcript:

Scotts Cove

Darien, Conn.

April 9, 1957

Dear Billy:

I have just received an invitation from Jack Warner to attend the Premiere of "The Spirit of St. Louis" at Hollywood, Thursday. I have had to wire back that I could not be on the West Coast at that time, and my greatest regret lies in losing the opportunity to see you and other friends who worked on the film so long, hard, and ably.

When I returned from my trip abroad (Central America, Asia, and Europe-- over the three Pan American divisions), I took my family to the Radio City Music Hall to see the picture.  It was the first time I had seen it myself, after the final cutting and dubbing. We all think you have done a grand job. There has been a big improvement since I saw the film, in early February. Audience reaction was excellent as far as I could judge, and the theater was pretty well filled when we were there. I now know what you mean by being able to cut a film by audience reaction. I had never paid much attention to this before.

Even though this was more or less the second time I had seen "The Spirit of St. Louis", I was still unable to look at it objectively. I find myself too close to the events, to the people, the plane, and the cockpit. At one moment I would be carried along by the story as though I were on the flight itself, thirty years ago; and at another, I would be jerked back into my theater seat saying, almost out loud, "my God that isn't Harold Bixby", or "It wasn't a Harley Davidson motorcycle, it was an Excelsior".

Of course I fully agree that to put a story on the stage actors can only approximate original characters, and that major changes must and should be made. All this is right and proper, and I feel you have handled the directing with great ability and skill-- a very difficult task extremely well done. But let me tell you it is quite a sensation to see one's life portraid [sic] on the screen-- enjoying, startling, humorous, serious, fascinating, stirring mind and emotion in quite an extraordinary way.

I was extremely interested to watch the interplay of fact and fiction-- detailed accuracy juxtaposed with fictional abandon-- and how accurate impression was obtained by the use of inaccurate events (the suspender salesman, the fly, the frying fish in San Diego). And I noted with admiration how the fictional events you brought into the story invariably obtained the audience reaction you were striving for. 

And the reviews-- the enthusiasm of the mass publications; the tongue clucking of the intellectuals-- on the whole, I thought they were excellent. Almost all of our friends were enthusiastic about the film. Judged from the reaction I have seen, it should meet with great success.

My thanks and best wishes accompany this letter. I wish I could accompany to the coast, and be with you to express them.

Sincerely, Charles (signed)

  

Transcript:

April 23, 1957

Dear Charles,

Thank you for your very generous letter. I am fully aware of the shortcomings of my effort. In all honesty, I don't think that any picture-maker, no matter how rich or talented, could have done justice to your superb account. 

As far as I'm concerned, the best that came out of it was getting to know you. I shall treasure this for the rest of my life.

Most sincerely,

Billy Wilder

General Charles A. Lindbergh
23 Tokeneke Trail
Darien, Connecticut

P.S. - Please note my new home address and phone number: 
10372 Wilshire Blvd.
Los Angeles 24, Calif.

BRadshaw 2-1317

Images of the letters courtesy of Heritage Auctions

Billy Wilder and James Stewart on the set of "The Spirit of St. Louis" (above). A Lindbergh fan and pilot himself, Stewart lobbied hard to get the Lindbergh role. As Stewart was 47 years old and had to play 25-year-old Lindbergh, he underwent a strict diet and had his hair dyed blond. Below: Stewart and Lindbergh posing in front of their planes.

This is my contribution to the Billy Wilder Blogathon hosted by Once upon a Screen and Outspoken & Freckled. Check out the other entries here.

The Apartment: a favourite (movie-wise)

This post is my contribution to the My Favourite Classic Movie Blogathon in celebration of National Classic Movie Day, hosted by Classic Film and TV Cafe. Click here to check out all the other entries.

I don't really have a favourite movie. There are so many great movies, I find it very difficult to pick just one. But one of the films that has always ranked high on my list of favourites --one that I've seen many times and will certainly watch again-- is Billy Wilder's black comedy The Apartment (1960). There's so much to love about this film. The script by Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond which contains the most brilliant lines ("That's the way it crumbles... cookie-wise", for one); the performances from the entire cast, in particular the leads Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine; the crisp black-and-white cinematography by Joseph LaShelle; the wonderful music score by Adolph Dietsch -- all these elements, masterfully put together by Billy Wilder, make The Apartment a gem from start to finish. 

Back in 1960, the public also loved The Apartment. Audiences went to see the film en masse, making it a box-office hit immediately upon release. But it was not just a commercial success, the film was also lauded by the critics and by Wilder's peers. At the Oscar Ceremony in April 1961, The Apartment was awarded a total of five Oscars, three of which went to Wilder: Best Picture, Best Director and Best Screenplay (the latter he had to share with I.A.L. Diamond). To congratulate Wilder on the film and its success, many colleagues sent him letters and telegrams. Below you'll find some of the correspondence Wilder received, both in 1960 when the film was released and in 1961 after his big Oscar win. The correspondence comes from Sammy Davis Jr., Fred Zinnemann, Kirk Douglas, Alfred Hitchcock, Joan Crawford, John Sturges and Hal Wallis; the letter from Hitchcock has been posted on this blog before, but I thought it was nice to include it here as well.

Transcript: 

1960 MAR 16

BILLIE WILDER, SAMUEL GOLDWYN STUDIOS=

1040 NORTH FORMOSA DLR BY MSGR HOLLYWOOD CALIF=

DEAR BILLIE HAVE JUST SEEN YOUR TRADE AD FOR THE QUOTE APARTMENT UNQUOTE THE INDUSTRY HAS NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT AS LONG AS THERE ARE PEOPLE LIKE YOU IN IT

MUCH LOVE=

SAMMY DAVIS JR.

Transcript:

1960 MAY 5

BILLY WILDER

1041 NORTH FORMOSA HOLLYWOOD CALIF=

DEAR BILLY: DAN TARADASH AND 19 OTHER PEOPLE HAVE TOLD ME "THE APARTMENT" IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL WARMEST CONGRATULATIONS 

CORDIALLY=

FRED ZINNEMANN.

Note: Daniel Taradash was a screenwriter; his credits include Golden Boy (1939) and From Here to Eternity (1952).

Transcript:

Dear Billy-

I have to tell you again how thrilled I was about seeing your picture this evening. You've certainly eclipsed "Some Like It Hot"- no mean feat.

This is a great example of movie-making --the sharp comments on various phases of American life, the daring juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy, the incisive penetration into the soul of a woman in love with a married man, the direction that led to some magnificent performances all add up to make one of the greatest pictures I've ever seen.

Transcript:

June 29, 1960

Mr. Billy Wilder

10375 Wilshire Boulevard

Los Angeles, California

Dear Mr Wilder,

I saw THE APARTMENT the other day.

I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed it, and how beautifully made. 

I felt this so much that I was impelled to drop you this note.

Kindest regards,

(signed)

Alfred J. Hitchcock

Transcript:

October 10, 1960

Billy dear,

I have just seen "The Apartment". You have done the most adroit, professional, exciting, poignant, delightful film I have seen in years. Thank you for giving the industry the "goose" it needed, and thank you for the joy it has given, not only millions of people, but your friend--

Joan (signed)

Transcript:

April 18, 1961

Dear Billy:

It was a great pleasure to see you scoop up that family of little men. Particularly since the picture was a complete original- a rare and admirable thing.

Please include I.A.L. in my congratulations.

With all the best,

John (signed)

Mr. Billy Wilder

1041 N. Formosa

Hollywood 46, California

Transcript:

April 19, 1961

Dear Billy,

This is getting to be a habit, but I am sure it is one you have no objection to acquiring.

In any event, my fond regards and sincere congratulations on the well deserved Oscars.

Sincerely,

(signed)
Hal Wallis

Images of the telegrams and letters courtesy of Heritage Auctions (here and here).

Damn those germs!

The story surrounding Joan Crawford's only Oscar win is legendary. Joan was not present at the Oscar Ceremony (held on 7 March 1946) to accept her prize for her performance in Mildred Pierce because she was sick in bed. At least, being sick was Joan's explanation then. It wasn't until years later that she admitted: "I remember how I felt the night the Awards were presented. Hopeful, scared, apprehensive, so afraid I wouldn't remember what I wanted to say, terrified at the thought of looking at those people, almost hoping I wouldn't get it, but wanting it so badly--no wonder I didn't go. I stayed home and fortified myself, probably a little too much, because when the announcement came, and then the press, and sort of a party, I didn't make much sense at all, even though I wanted to spill over..." [via]

After Joan had won her Oscar, it wouldn't be long before the congratulations came pouring in. Billy Wilder and his writing buddy Charles Brackett were amongst the ones to congratulate her, and it's their joint note to Joan which is shown below.

"Whether the Academy voters were giving the Oscar to me, sentimentally, for 'Mildred' or for 200 years of effort, the hell with it- I deserved it."

Image letter: heritage auctions (reproduced with permission)

Transcript:

March 16, 1946

Dear Joan: 

Goddamn those flu germs that kept you away. It was a circus, and you were the Queen.

We love you.

Always,

Charlie (signed)

Charles Brackett

Billy W. (signed)

Billy Wilder

Blaming Billy Wilder

On 5 November 1954, Billy Wilder concluded filming of The Seven Year Itch. Production had taken two weeks longer than originally scheduled, which was in large part due to leading lady Marilyn Monroe. Not only was Marilyn always late on the set but she also needed numerous takes to get a scene right (Wilder once said that directing Marilyn was like pulling teeth). Because of the delay, production costs exceeded the original budget and amounted to a total of $1.8 million. 

A week after filming had ended, Darryl F. Zanuck, head of production at Twentieth Century-Fox, wrote a confidential letter to Charles Feldman, co-executive producer of The Seven Year Itch. The two men had been having issues on the film before, and this letter shows how Zanuck disagreed with Feldman about whom to blame for the delay (in his opinion it was Wilder's fault, not Marilyn's). Incidentally, Zanuck couldn't have known then that The Seven Year Itch would be one of Twentieth Century-Fox's biggest successes of 1955, eventually earning the studio millions of dollars. 

Marilyn Monroe dancing with Charles Feldman 

Left: Darryl Zanuck. Right: Marilyn and Billy Wilder on the set of "The Seven Year Itch"; Wilder would have even more problems with Marilyn four years later during the shooting of "Some Like it Hot" (read more here and here). 

Image courtesy of profiles in history

Transcript:

November 12, 1954

Confidential

Dear Charlie: 

I do not want to bring up an argument again as there is no use crying over spilled milk. For your own information, SEVEN YEAR ITCH was scheduled for 35 days but it took 48 days to make it.

This is only 9 days less than it took us to photograph THE ROBE. I know you will say that we did not have Marilyn Monroe in THE ROBE.

Let me combat this argument by telling you that we made HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE in 34 days and this was at a time that we were experimenting with CinemaScope and the cast included Monroe.

These are accurate figures and I am only reciting them to you for the purpose of trying to set you straight. Wilder did a sensational job from the standpoint of quality. He certainly did not do a sensational job from the standpoint of shooting time and schedule.

Regards,

Darryl (signed)

Mr. Charles Feldman

9441 Wilshire Blvd.

Beverly Hills, Calif.

Now that we have made up...

One of my earlier posts (here) showed an angry telegram from playwright Arthur Miller to Billy Wilder. Wilder had publicly criticised Marilyn Monroe for her behaviour during the shooting of Some Like it Hot (1959), and in the telegram -dated 11 February 1959- Miller basically accused him of having contributed to Marilyn's miscarriage (which occurred shortly after production). That same day Wilder sent Miller a lengthy telegram back, saying (in part): 

"Of course I am deeply sorry that she lost her baby, but I must reject the implication that overwork or inconsiderate treatment by me or anyone else associated with the production was in any way responsible for it. The fact is that the company pampered her, coddled her and acceded to all her whims. The only one who showed any lack of consideration was Marilyn, in her treatment of her co-stars and her co-workers right from the first day, before there was any hint of pregnancy... Her chronic tardiness and unpreparedness cost us eighteen shooting days, hundreds of thousands of dollars, and countless heartaches. I recall one typical morning when she showed up two and a half hours late, carrying a copy of Thomas Paine's The rights of man, and when a second assistant director knocked on her dressing room door and humbly asked her if she was ready, her humanity shone through and she replied quote drop dead unquote. This having been my second picture with Marilyn, I understand her problems. Her biggest problem is that she doesn't understand anyone else's problems. If you took a quick poll among the cast and crew on the subject of Marilyn [you] would find a positively overwhelming lack of popularity." [source: "Arthur Miller" by Christopher Bigsby (2008)]  

Tony Curtis. Billy Wilder and Marilyn Monroe at a party for "Some Like it Hot". Curtis was also more than annoyed with Marilyn during production of the film. And his remark "Kissing her is like kissing Hitler" didn't really help matters between the two of them.

I don't know what happened after Wilder sent his telegram, but the two men apparently reconciled judging from Wilder's note to Miller several months later.

Source: heritage auctions/ image reproduced with permission

Transcript:

April 20, 1959

Mr. Arthur Miller

444 East 57 Street

New York, New York

Dear Arthur:

Now that we have made up (I hope!), I want you to read this stunning review of our picture. In case you don't read Hebrew, I suggest you have Elizabeth Taylor translate it for you.

My best to Marilyn.

Fond regards,

BW: RS

Enc.

*Note: Billy Wilder and Arthur Miller were both Jewish, and Elizabeth Taylor had just converted to Judaism earlier that month--hence Wilder's remark. 

On the set of "Some Like it Hot" with Billy Wilder, Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe

Agatha Christie praises Billy Wilder

There are many examples of movie adaptations that were hated by the original author. For instance, Ernest Hemingway is said to have disliked all of the adaptations of his short stories and novels, in particular the 1932 version of A Farewell to Arms; Ayn Rand hated the movie adaptation of The Fountainhead (1949) even though she had written the screenplay herself; and Tennessee Williams was none too happy with the 1958 film version of his play Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, seeing that the homosexual elements had been removed for the film. On the other hand, there are also authors who were pleased with the adaptation of their work. Harper Lee, for instance, thought that the film version of To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) was "one of the best translations of a book to film ever made" and -apart from some minor criticisms- Margaret Mitchell was content with Gone with the Wind (1939). 

In 1957, Billy Wilder adapted Agatha Christie's play Witness for the Prosecution, based on Christie's own short story. Agatha Christie was very happy with Wilder's adaptation and reportedly said it was the best adaptation ever done of her work. Wilder had followed the basic story of Christie's play, but also made several changes giving the film his personal signature. The most significant change was the addition of the character Nurse Plimsoll, played by Elsa Lanchester whose scenes with husband Charles Laughton are imbued with Wilder's delightful sense of humour. Witness for the Prosecution became a big hit, praised by audiences and critics alike. And Agatha Christie herself enjoyed it so much that she wrote Wilder the following note (shown below).

Billy Wilder (left), and a publicity still for "Witness for the Prosecution" with Elsa Lanchester and Charles Laughton.

Celebrated author Agatha Christie sold the rights to her play "Witness for the Prosecution" for $435,000.

Source: heritage auctions/ image reproduced with permission

Transcript:

Dec 11

Dear Billy Wilder

Larry Bachman tells me that you never heard whether I liked your picture Witness for the Prosecution. 

Well- I did.

What's more- I enjoyed it - a thing I never suspected to when seeing a film made from one of my books or books [?] !

You did a wonderful job + I admire that film very much still. 

Most people do.

So let me make amends.

Yours,

Agatha Christie