TMS Muse of the Week: Elaine May

(via opb.org)

Mike Nichols was one of the most influential figures of the New Hollywood period in the late 1960s and early 1970s. From Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (1966) and The Graduate (1967) to Carnal Knowledge (1971) and Working Girl (1988) to Silkwood (1983) and Closer (2004) to The Birdcage (1996) and Primary Colors (1998). The east coaster had the perfect wit, timing and instinct for both comedies and dramas. He could blend humor and intellectualism effortlessly—wait. Why am I going into Mike Nichols for my weekly MOTW series? Well, if you know Mike Nichols’ career, then you know he also began his success as one-half of a very popular comedy duo, Nichols & May. The second half was Elaine May, whom Mike met in 1952 while they were both studying acting and sketch comedy in Chicago. If you’re only peripherally aware of people behind the movie camera, I’m going to assume you recognize Mike’s name more than Elaine’s. That’s not uncommon and there’s a reason for that, albeit a bit cliché.

(NBC / Universal Media)

From 1958-1962, Nichols & May were arguably the hippest duo in comedy with plenty of radio, TV and stage appearances as well as records to their cred. Their 1960-61 Broadway act, An Evening with Mike Nichols & Elaine May, would be the highlight of their partnership. This included a 1960 performance that was released as a live album and won a Grammy for Best Spoken Word Record. Despite enjoying the popularity, especially with the college crowds, the pair were young and ambitious. Mike quickly ventured into theatre and film for directing gigs, while Elaine became interested in writing. Mike already won Best Director at the Oscars for The Graduate before the world would see Elaine’s solo efforts with her equally acclaimed romcoms A New Leaf (1971) and The Heartbreak Kid (1972). The former was with herself and Walter Matthau and the latter starred Charles Grodin and Cybill Shepherd, both featuring Elaine’s quirky and offbeat charm. Although she continued acting in movies like Carl Reiner’s Enter Laughing (1967), Clive Donner’s Luv (1967) and Herbert Ross’ California Suite (1978), the writing-directing bug hit Elaine full force. Rather than lean into her comedy roots, she branched out and experimented with a John Cassavetes-esque crime drama called Mikey & Nicky (1976) starring Peter Falk and Cassavetes himself. Unfortunately, this would be the beginning of the end Elaine’s hype as a filmmaker.

Going over budget $3M and putting up a fight when Paramount refused to give her final cut [something she attempted with A New Leaf as well], the frustrated studio unceremoniously gave Mikey & Nicky a limited one-week release with a botched edit, so not even the critics could appreciate the film. Crushed and sabotaged, Elaine took the backseat on directing and focused on screenwriting for the next decade. A friendship and new professional partnership were also coined with heartthrob-turned-renaissance man Warren Beatty, whom she would collaborate to success with on the fantasy-comedy Heaven can Wait (1978) and the historical drama Reds (1981). Both where Warren was star, director and producer, while Elaine co-wrote the scripts [the latter uncredited]. During this period, Elaine also contributed uncredited script re-writes for Sydney Pollack’s Tootsie (1982) and Jim Henson’s Labyrinth (1986). The same year as Labyrinth, Elaine’s original cut of Mikey & Nicky was released for the first time to great reception and is now the definitive version for re-releases and home video. Though it looked like Elaine’s career was returning to form, her third film with Warren would be the nail in the coffin of relevancy. For a long time, the word ‘Ishtar’ was used as much as ‘flop’ whenever a movie did poorly at the box-office and with reviewers. Ishtar (1987) is the title of Elaine’s final film as director, starring Warren, Dustin Hoffman and Isabelle Adjani. $51M budget, $15M at the box-office, bad reviews, and three Razzie nominations [including Elaine chosen as Worst Director]. Unlike Mikey & Nicky, there’s no superior edit hidden somewhere of Ishtar. It’s just a bland, unfunny comedy.

(Paul Fusco)

I’m going reveal my unpopular opinion that Elaine wasn’t completely screwed over the second time around she was involved with a flop. Yes, Columbia should have reined in the marketing budget despite the superstar names when they saw the writing on the wall the political satire wasn’t going to do well. Yes, Warren telling the production team to “Let Elaine do whatever she wants,” as a well experienced producer was baffling. Yes, the press did seem to have it out for Warren in the late 1980s and were looking for an excuse to attack. But I’ve never quite understood how Elaine’s work ethic seemed to get consistently worse with time. Granted, I wasn’t there and I’ve never worked on a professional film production. But regularly arriving late to set, spending months shooting, and especially alienating herself from the editing team, just sounds crazy and irresponsible to me. She should have known thirty years into showbusiness this kind of spontaneity usually doesn’t go over well with higher-ups and hurts the final product; just like Warren should have actually done his job as boss of the set and made sure nothing got too out of hand. I know a lot of movies—including classics like Victor Fleming’s The Wizard of Oz (1939) and Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979)—have chaotic production histories. But that end result is rarely the case. When things go haywire during filming it’s usually more along the lines of Ishtar and Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate (1980).

(Ron Galella)

Unsurprisingly, Elaine refused to speak to Warren for nearly three years after Ishtar was released, and their friendship never fully recovered. Ironically, Warren has never actually spoken ill of the movie and doesn’t consider it a creative failure [though it’s probably easy for him to think that since he got the least blowback of the cast and crew]. Elaine ended up spending most of the 1990s and 2000s returning to theatre as a playwright and sometimes a performer. Having sympathy for his old friend and past collaborator, Mike also recruited Elaine to write the screenplays for his hit comedies The Birdcage and Primary Colors. But with the exception of a Mike Nichols themed episode of PBS’ docu-series “American Masters” in 2016, Elaine’s days as a director are basically done. Some will say it’s sexism, some backstabbing, some karma. Whatever the case, it’s a shame one of the first, big, talented names in female filmmaking ended on such a sour note, especially compared to her comedy partner.

Still, Elaine remains a legend of her generation; helped pave the way for future romcom directors like Nora Ephron, Nancy Meyers and Amy Heckerling; and has two Oscar nominations for Best Adapted Screenplay with Heaven can Wait and Primary Colors. To go from comedienne to actress to writer and director is a huge glow-up for anyone; especially in an era where it wasn’t super common unless you were Mike or Woody Allen. She has an equally successful daughter, Jeannie Berlin, who’s also an actress and co-starred in The Heartbreak Kid. After two failed marriages, including to Broadway lyricist Sheldon Harnick, and even a brief romance with Mike; Elaine settled down with psychoanalyst Bernard Rubinfine from 1964 to his death in 1982, and later with Hollywood musical legend Stanley Donen from 1999 until his own death in 2019. At 90, the comedy star is still with us and even active artistically. Though her prime was cut short, Elaine is a unique staple in film history. For an intro into her career, I would start with An Evening with Mike Nichols & Elaine May and A New Leaf.