Peanuts and Plantations
The fate of “Gone With the Wind” hangs in the balance
David O. Selznik (Patrick Vest) and Victor Fleming (Cylan Brown) act out a scene from the novel Gone With the Wind for screenwriter Ben Hecht (Joel Brown), who has never read the book. Photo by Alysa Brennan
“Moonlight and Magnolias,” Joel Bryant is explaining to me, “revolves around [producer] David Selznick calling in Ben Hecht, one of the quickest punch-up screenwriters in the late ‘30s, and then calling in [director] Victor Fleming as well, pulling him off of ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ which wasn’t done shooting, and locking Victor and I in a room with him after he’d shut down production on ‘Gone With the Wind.’
“So for the next five days we’re going to rewrite the whole movie,” he continues, “and start shooting again on Monday – the problem being that Ben Hecht has never read the book. So they [Selznick and Fleming] decide to act it out for Ben Hecht while he writes, and that’s where you get some of that iconic stuff from the movie. They’re acting out scenes from the book and that you see in the movie.”
That’s pretty much the premise and synopsis of Ron Hutchinson’s fairly recent play, which is being directed by Stephanie A. Coltrin and is currently in previews, but opening tomorrow night at the Hermosa Beach Playhouse.
Coltrin and Bryant, who plays Ben Hecht, plus Patrick Vest (Selznick), Cylan Brown (Fleming), and Nicole Wessel (as the secretary Miss Poppinghul) took a few minutes before rehearsal to discuss the play, their roles in it and whatever else it takes to ensure that there’s a full house for its entire two-week run.
The gang’s all here: L-r, Joel Bryant as Ben Hecht, Stephanie A Coltrin as the Director, Cylan Brown as Victor Fleming, Patrick Vest as David O. Selznick, and Nicole Wessel as Miss Poppinghul. Photo
You’ve seen these words before: Based on a true story. That’s the case here. David O. Selznick wasn’t satisfied with Sidney Howard’s script and, apparently at the urging of Clark Gable, dismissed the openly gay George Cukor and brought in the more macho Victor Fleming to direct (although Cukor, at the request of the actresses, continued to coach Vivien Leigh and Olivia de Havilland). But it’s those five frantic days in Selznick’s suite that most intrigued Hutchinson. Or, as Coltrin puts it, “It’s the author’s theorization of what happened behind closed doors when they were rewriting this screenplay.”
Do people need to have seen “Gone With the Wind” in order to appreciate the play?
“It is helpful,” Coltrin replies. “I think if you haven’t seen it there’s still a lot to appreciate, but they do make very specific references to the movie, and a lot of the jokes are talking about the film specifically.”
This puts one in mind of “The 39 Steps,” at the Ahmanson Theatre a few months back, which was a spoof based on well-known scenes and plots from various films by Alfred Hitchcock.
According to legend, Selznick, Fleming, and Hecht pretty much subsisted on peanuts and bananas, brought to them in this case by Selznick’s secretary, Miss Poppinghul.
“The secretary is the only character that wasn’t a true actual person,” Wessel points out.
“Actually Selznick had many secretaries,” Coltrin says.
“So to speak,” Bryant adds with a smirk.
Is the secretary’s role a large role, a small role?
Wessel is very diplomatic: “It’s a smaller role.”
“A supporting role,” Coltrin says as everyone laughs.
Slipping into character
The movie version of Margaret Mitchell’s 1936 bestselling novel premiered in Atlanta in December of 1939. Hutchinson’s play is of course set in the late 1930s and this production respects that in style, costume, décor, and so forth.
“I don’t know about you guys,” Cy Brown says, addressing his co-actors, “but it was really hard for me getting a grip [on the dialogue]. Because the way they said things, the rhythms of how they spoke back then, are pretty different.”
In addition to adapting different speech patterns, Bryant points out that the play takes us behind the scenes, with references to the studio system and the prejudices against Jews and blacks (Jewish himself, Hecht at the time – and much later as well – was highly concerned about discrimination).
The audience may feel that it is eavesdropping, and getting the scoop on what might only emerge in gossip columns.
“A lot of the stuff that would be talked about behind closed doors back then we talk about (in the play) because we’re contemporaries with Judy Garland or Gable,” Bryant adds. “Those are stories that were never really proven, or not, because they didn’t have TMZ.com.
“We’re lucky enough to play these iconic figures, and we’re running around with other iconic figures, so it really humanizes all these icons that you see up on billboards or murals around Hollywood.”
Curiously, in one write-up of “Moonlight and Magnolias,” the reviewer expressed his opinion that the play seemed to mock, or dehumanize, the three principals. Not having seen the work myself, I stand on the sidelines. But if truth is indeed stranger than fiction then one might wish to know what really went on in Selznick’s suite over the course of those five frenetic days.
Did you read up on the real people whom you represent?
Bryant points to Brown and says, “He went so far as to become a fan of Ben Hecht on Facebook.”
“Steph provided us with reading material to go through,” Vest says, “and there’s some great documentaries out there just about the making of ‘Gone With the Wind’ – which is actually what we’re doing. It’s fascinating to look into David Selznick and his sort of obsessive nature, and I think that the playwright does a good job of capturing that.”
Did you watch documentaries for the mannerisms of the people you play?
“The documentary I saw,” Vest replies, “only had a small clip of Selznick when he was picking up the Oscar, so I didn’t really get anything from that as far as trying to imitate him, mannerism-wise or anything like that. The stories about him, more than anything, give you an idea of who the man is and what makes him tick.”
And I bet they have lots of footage of the secretary, too!
After the laughter has subsided, Coltrin explains that in photos Selznick “always has two people sitting at his desk. It makes you think that they just sit there all day in case he needed something. Every press photo, it’s got David Selznick and two assistants.”
“You’re a combination of two people,” a laughing Bryant tells Wessel.
“I think we’re lucky,” Bryant adds, “to play people who are recognizable in name and stature but not necessarily on film or in literature, so that you’re able to take what you know, what you can find in research, and then take what the writer wrote and then do your own spin to get the point of the piece across.”
To elaborate, he notes that an actor might, for instance, want to give Clark Gable a Swiss accent. However, “people aren’t going to buy it.” And the actor will be out on the street selling pencils before he – or she? – knows it.
Brown mentions Philip Seymour Hoffman in the role of Truman Capote: “There was so much documentation of this character that he had to physically become this person.” In the present circumstance, Brown continues, “you read about them and you get closer and closer to where they are mentally, where they are emotionally, but you’re not limited to being them physically.”
Referring to the audience, Bryant jokes: “So hopefully they’ll leave and say, Wow, that was just like the real Victor Fleming!”
Or, conversely: Victor Fleming? That was nothing like him!
That delicate balance
As a director, were there unusual choices with “Moonlight and Magnolias”?
“Yeah. Fun challenges,” Coltrin replies. “The whole play is about the descent into chaos, and so where do you draw the line in what that descent is? How far do you go? Should we pull back, or should we go further? That’s where the challenge is: Where does it become ridiculous; where does it not become believable anymore?
“It is three men in really a ridiculous situation, so it opens itself up to a lot of things and you just have to make the choices of how far you’re going to push it in that situation.”
“And they all have big personalities,” Bryant adds.
“They’re not shy men,” Coltrin says.
“They all have a very specific agenda,” Vest notes, “and they’re always bumping up against each other’s agendas.”
Furthermore, Coltrin says, “there’s physical humor. There’s a scene where they all start slapping each other. It says ‘melee’ in the script, so how far do you want to push the melee? How much is too much?”
On the other hand, she points out, the playwright hones in on some serious concerns, race and prejudice as noted above.
“In those moments,” Coltrin says, “you want to fall back and treat it with respect and appropriate behavior. But the writer is also very sensitive to the fact that it’s a comedy, so he will then make a joke and pull us out of it. So it’s the push and pull of all of that that’s the challenge as a director.”
Have you seen the play performed elsewhere?
“I have not,” Coltrin replies. “I knew of it. It’s only about six years old; it was written in 2004. When I ordered the script I started laughing out loud, from the first page. A lot of times, comedies don’t read as funny as they play. So if you’re laughing when you’re reading it on the page it’s a good thing.”
“But it’s up to us not to screw it up,” Bryant says.
What the cast seems to agree on is that “Moonlight and Magnolias” is a fresh play that hasn’t been overdone – and, where most of us are concerned, hasn’t been done at all. For the actors involved, this is liberating: “It’s fun to be able to put your mark on it,” Bryant says, “and do it how you want to do it.”
Falling into place
What about casting? Did you have an idea of what you were looking for with each part?
“I did,” Coltrin replies. “I really had these three guys in my head as soon as I read it. What was interesting, though, is that because these guys are so versatile as actors I wasn’t sure which role I was going to put them in. So we actually came in here and did two scenes where all three of them played all three roles. And we said: Now switch… Now switch… Now switch. Because I knew that there are elements of each one of their talents that would be great for each role.”
“It was nice to be in a can’t-lose situation,” Bryant says. “I mean, any of the roles you get in this is gonna be a great role, because it’s all share time and they’re all fantastically written and great personalities.”
Everyone jokes – although they all like the idea, too – that if there’d been more time to rehearse they could alternate roles every evening. The audience would never know what the lineup card would be until they got to the theater.
Yes, that would be great, Bryant says, “until I got Miss Poppinghul… the night my mom’s coming.”
You got them into the roles that you wanted, I say to the director; but did each of them end up with the role that they wanted?
“I think you really couldn’t have missed,” Vest says. He didn’t think he’d end up as the fair-headed Fleming, but for a while was torn between whether he preferred the part of Hecht or Selznick.
With each character whose lines he read, Bryant had pretty much the same enthusiastic reaction, a variation of “Oh yeah, great, I love that role, that’s great. I can really connect with that.”
This seems to have been Brown’s initial reaction as well. “But the second we got on our feet and started working on it I knew, in my mind, who I was here to play. Halfway through the audition it was like ‘This is the role that I really, really want in the show.’”
And when he got it? Brown makes an expression of sheer victory, and everyone laughs.
“It happened so fast when Stephanie said, Okay, you’re Selznick, you’re Fleming, you’re Hecht,” Vest says. “And then later that night I e-mailed her and said, Wait, did you say ‘Selznick’? It was so quick. I’m Selznick, right? Because we kept switching.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been in a show where you’re on stage literally from opening to ending,” Bryant says. “You have to be involved the whole time; there’s no point where you really leave or come back. Once [Selznick] locks the doors we’re in that room until the end of the show. Even if you’re not saying lines, you’re still in the scene. So, it’s exhausting, but so much fun. You almost go on a journey because by the time the second act rolls around, and at the end of the show, you’re exhausted as well. Not five days exhausted, but still.”
Brown says that, unlike some plays or musicals where the actors tend to break up into little teams, everyone in this cast has formed one tight unit.
You can’t have any weak parts, Vest says.
Nor can you take off five minutes to relax, Bryant reminds us.
“I can,” Wessel chimes in.
Everybody laughs, but Bryant points out that her role, as minor as it may seem, has its demands: “When Miss Poppinghul comes in she has to kind of jump into this framework that we’ve already built up of manic energy, and she has to fit in seamlessly and then leave again. That’s really the most unenvious position.”
Reflecting further on the impression that they’re trying to generate, he continues:
“When you go watch a show you’re locked in the room too, watching what’s going on onstage as well for better or for worse. Once the door is locked and the lights come up, the audience is there too and they’re kind of with us on our journey, and you would hope that by the end they’re rooting for us to finish the script.”
“They are,” Coltrin says. “It’s one of those things where they know that it ends okay, but you don’t believe it, because when you’re watching it you’re thinking, How did this movie ever get made? It’s like when you watch ‘Apollo 13’ and you know the astronauts are all okay, but you’re still crying, going ‘Is it going to be all right?’ That’s kind of how it is with the audience.”
I can see us now, biting our nails: Will “Gone With the Wind” ever see the light of day?
Moonlight and Magnolias opens tomorrow night at the Hermosa Beach Playhouse, 710 Pier Ave., Hermosa Beach. Performances, Tuesday through Saturday at 8 p.m., this Sunday at 2 and 7 p.m., and next Sunday at 2 p.m. only. Valet parking is $5, available on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Tickets, $35 in advance and $40 at the door. Closes Sunday, Nov. 7. Call (310) 372-4477 or go to hermosabeachplayhouse.com. ER