4 Books Like Mad as Hell

Until I read Wasson’s provocative book, it was my understanding that Robert Towne crafted his Oscar-winning Chinatown script with guidance from his star (Jack Nicholson), producer (Robert Evans), and director (Roman Polanski), all of whom urged Towne to find a cogent narrative inside a sprawling concept embedded with powerful metaphors.

Then Wasson debunked the romantic myth of the genius scribe working in isolation by revealing not just the extent of Polanski’s notes but, even more explosively, the involvement of Edward Taylor as Towne’s “editor” and possible uncredited co-writer. I didn’t think it was possible for me to be shocked anymore by discoveries about my chosen field, but Wasson’s book reminded me that solo screenwriting credits are, at best, abstractions and, at worst, misnomers.

When I first read this years ago, it struck me as one of the great books about directing—Steven Spielberg’s ingenuity is a major focus. Revisiting it today, I realize it’s equally valuable as a screenwriting resource because serving a director’s vision is a huge part of the screenwriting life.

As Gottlieb recounts, making Jaws wasn’t stressful just because the mechanical shark kept malfunctioning but because of the pressure Spielberg was under to transform a pulpy bestseller into a crowd-pleasing spectacle. Gottlieb, the third writer to work on the project, offers his unique perspective on the all-too-common scenario of starting a production without a finished script.

Every time I return to this book, I discover another insight about screenwriting, about filmmaking, and about creativity.

I include Thelma & Louise in the syllabi for as many of my courses as possible because even though it’s a tough story centering sexual assault, what happened behind the scenes was every screenwriter’s fantasy. As Aikman describes in her breezy making-of book, first-time screenwriter Callie Khouri came up with a great idea, landed with a sympathetic director (Ridley Scott) and ideal stars (Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon), then somehow protected her controversial ending long enough to generate a box-office hit, an Oscar win, and a national conversation.

I respect how thoroughly Aikman tracks the project’s evolution, and it’s valuable to consider how Scott’s ornate visuals added scope to Khouri’s intimate narrative. Off the Cliff reminds me that the goal is not just to get scripts onscreen but to see their potential realized.

I recognize that Allen has become a divisive figure, but the stubborn fact is that in the course of making a handful of masterpieces, Allen built a truly unique career—for half a century, the singular writer-director made a movie nearly every year with total creative autonomy.

This book took me inside that process, albeit during the production of a minor film (Irrational Man), and it was captivating to read how Allen approaches writing, fundraising, casting, production, and the rest of the process. On the plus side, Allen, at his peak, was answerable only to the limits of his imagination and skill. On the minus side, he operated within strict budgetary limitations.

What I found most consistently interesting about Start to Finish was its dual nature—on one level, it’s about Allen as an individual artist, and on another level, it’s about the inherent difficulties of transforming screenplays into cinema.… show more.