The Top Ten Uncompleted Movies, Part 1

Phil Nugent — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 20:00:00 GMT

The sad death of Heath Ledger caused speculation that the film he had been shooting, Terry Gilliam's The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, might be in jeopardy. This isn't the first time that the loss of a principle cast member has threatened to shut down a movie. Witness the battle Doug Trumbull had to fight to keep Brainstorm from being written off when Natalie Wood died. Of course, there are various movies that had not been finished for one reason or another, some through accidents and others to a simple lack of interest. What follows is a list of 10 of the more promising or at least potentially interesting films that were not released in their intended form for one reason or another.

--Faisal A. Qureshi

DARK BLOOD

River Phoenix's death in October 1993 led to the complete shutdown of George Sluzier's film. Already a troubled production, with reports of tension between Judy Davis and Phoenix, the film only had 11 days of shooting left before tragedy struck. The British company Palace Pictures, which was funding the production, decided that the film couldn't be salvaged. Even though Jim Barton's script received a postive reception when it was given a read through by the Script Factory, there have been no takers for trying to re-shoot or complete the picture.

THE MAN WHO SHOT DON QUIXOTE

Terry Gilliam's first experience of getting a film written off was luckily recorded in a documentary, Lost in La Mancha, shot by Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe. After one week of shooting, Jean Rochefort, injured himself while getting on a horse, flew back to France and received doctor's orders to never ride again. There are rumours that Jeremy Thomas would take over the project and re-start production with Johnny Depp still attached, but until then all we have are rushes of Depp berating a fish.

I, CLAUDIUS

The 1976 BBC Adaptation of Robert Graves I, Claudius has been hailed as one of the greatest works of British TV drama. Forty years earlier, however, Alexander Korda tried producing a feature adaptation of the book starring Charles Laughton as Claudius and Merle Oberon as the nymphomaical Messalina, with Josef Von Sternberg directing. Unfortunately, Merle Oberon suffered an accident that resulted in the abandoning of filming. Luckily, the footage that had been completed survived and was later the center piece of the excellent BBC Documentary, The Epic That Never Was, which was itself released to film theaters.

ORSON WELLES'S DON QUIXOTE

Orson Welles had worked on Don Quixote for years, going through various scripts and cast changes, and shooting in Mexico and Spain. Financed out of his own pocket, Welles started shooting in 1955 just after he was kicked off the editing of Touch of Evil, and carried on until the death of his Sancho Panza, Akim Tamiroff. Strangely enough, the job of assembling the surviving footage into something coherent was given to Spanish exploitation filmmaker Jesus Franco, who had been Welles's first assistant director during some of the shooting. Reviled when it premiered in Cannes, it leaves one hoping that someday there will be another attempt to "complete" the job by someone with more artistry and closer to Welles's own wavelength than a second-rate horror hack.

SOMETHING'S GOT TO GIVE

Marilyn Monroe's final film, which was shelved after her death. On paper it looked great, with George Cukor directing and a cast that included Phil Silvers and Dean Martin. The story, a remake of the 1940 My Favorite Wife (which was itself derived from Tennyson's "Enoch Arden") involved a husband who has his wife declared dead after she's been missing for five years, only for her to turn up when he's getting re-married. Unfortunately Monroe's inability to come in to shoot her scenes (she was apparently off 17 days out of 30 of the duration of the production) and with Fox hemorraging money from the even more expensive, Cleopatra, decided to sack the actress and re-organise the production. Unfortunately, Monroe's death killed the project altogether, and it wasn't until 1999 that Fox allowed the release of 39 minutes of footage shot for the film to celebrate Monroe's 75th birthday. (My Favorite Wife was ultimately remade as Move Over, Darling, with Doris Day and James Garner.)

--Phil Nugent, Faisal A. Qureshi

Click here for Part 2.

The Anna May Wong Express

Phil Nugent — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Born in Los Angeles in 1905, in movies since she was a teenager, Anna May Wong was the first Chinese-American actress to make a name for herself in Hollywood. With her shiny black bob and imperious hauteur, which had a suggestion of something trembling, vulnerable and lonely beneath it, Wong established herself as an icon of '30s style, effortlessly holding her own alongside Marlene Dietrich in Josef von Sternberg's 1932 Shanghai Express. At the same time, she was habitually paid far less than her caucasian co-stars and stereotyped in ways that she herself found increasingly insulting. At one point, she made her complaints heard on a film set with a film-magazine writer present: "Why is it that the screen Chinese is nearly always the villain? And so crude a villain. Murderous, treacherous, a snake in the grass. We are not like that. How should we be, with a civilisation that is so many times older than that of the west?" When MGM filmed Pearl S. Buck's China-set potboiler The Good Earth in 1937, Wong lobbied for the role of the female lead, was turned down in favor of Luise Rainer, and then angrily turned down the part she was offered, that of a troublemaking seductress named Lotus. If she had taken the role, she would have been playing the movie's villain, surrounded by white actors playing the sympathetic Chinese characters in heavy make-up.

Wong was fifty-six years old when she died of a heart attack in 1961. (She was also suffering from cirrhosis of the liver.) By then, both her life and career had been blighted by the paradox of a career built on catering to racist fantasies about the slinky, cunning daughters of Fu Manchu. But, as has turned out to be the case with many black actors from Hollywood's past, Wong's talent and style have ended up casting a longer shadow than the insults she was handed to perform. In recent years, her reputation has enjoyed a bit of resurgence thanks to a couple of biographies, the rediscovery of the 1929 picture Piccadilly, and now a new, British film documentary, whose title, Frosted Yellow Willows, is a literal translation of Wong's Cantonese name. The documentary may not be perfect, but it does feature the best argument for Wong as a film artist of enduring value and the best tool for creating new Anna May Wong fans--namely, film clips of Anna May Wong. Writing in the Guardian, Matthew Sweet nails it: "We disapprove of the stereotypes she fleshed out — the treacherous, tragic daughters of the dragon — but her performances still seduce, for the same reason they did in the 1920s and '30s. . . You'll see how much the camera loved her, and how impossible it is not to feel the same."

The Screengrab : josef von sternberg

The Top Ten Uncompleted Movies, Part 1

The Anna May Wong Express