LEONARD MICHAELS
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point there is in "should ." Today , we don't much use the word like
that. A realm of human experience slips away from our language. I
stood outside in the twilight waiting for Howard . When he came up,
I said , "Can you reshoot some scenes?"
"There's no money in the budget to reshoot anything."
He was irritated. My question was more judgement than ques–
tion. "Well ," he said , "what should we do , kill ourselves?"
We were in it together , but I could feel only for myself.
Disgrace , like internal bleeding, seeped into my bones and organs .
As we walked toward the production office , he said , "Don't tell
anyone what you think about the movie."
Oh , the rough cut wasn't all that bad . There were excellent per–
formances. But that night , alone in my motel room, I watched the
whole movie again, as I would for months thereafter when I was
alone . Of one thing in the world I was sure . There was truth.
I saw it in the cracked tile about the bathtub, mildew in the
walls , paint that bulged and split, a faucet that dribbled like an idiot,
disease-yellow stains in the bedspread, and the pressure of squalid
light when I turned on the lamp beside the bed. All mine; of my
soul. The wicked , says Plato, shall suffer in this life just being what
they are . I'd been very wicked , and now it astonished me, the tears ,
the ferociousness of my shame .
The motel wasn't far from Fairfax Avenue . Old men in dapper
gabardines walked about long after midnight. They couldn't sleep,
had nothing to do but wait for morning, then sip hot water and
lemon, read the
Los Angeles Times,
nibble a prune Danish. Some
wore hats , a touch of style, formal and jaunty, from the optimistic
forties . Dear God, as You know , I wanted to be old, too . Need so lit–
tle. I wouldn't resent the young their burning, but only pity its
disgustingness, the lust there is in breathing, the predatory bright–
ness of their movie eyes . Give me cataracts . Put them on the eyes of
my soul where the movie kept playing.
I'd described one character as having a slight speech defect .
The actor came on with a sickeningly violent stutter. His stuttering
hurt, like a gratuitous personal insult, so much that it felt deserved .
They said a rough cut is always terrible . Movies are made in
the editing room. We had miles and miles of film. A good movie had
only to be discovered in those miles of film . I was invited to help with
the editing. I flew back and forth between Berkeley and L.A.,
grateful to be allowed to help. About ten scenes were cut, which had
dire effects on structure , but the movie gained lunging energy and
