He
directed The Slugger’s Wife and the
pilot for Beverly Hills Buntz, neither
of which you will find in the hagiographic documentary celebrating the 1970s “New
Hollywood” filmmaker. Of course, his admirers will want to focus on his
masterworks, but you would think he could walk on water, just like Chauncey
Gardner in his classic Being There.
Yet, the lack of perspective is a major drawback throughout Amy Scott’s Hal (trailer here), which opens this
Friday in New York.
Ashby
won an Academy Award for editing Norman Jewison’s In the Heat of the Night (probably still the best film her ever
worked on), but he wanted to direct. Thanks to the help of his friend Jewison,
he got his chance on The Landlord. It
was a very-1970 movie that did not make a lot of noise at the time, but Ashby
followed it up with Harold & Maude,
The Last Detail, Shampoo, Bound for Glory, Coming Home, and Being There. It was an excellent
critical run and relatively decent in terms of box office returns. Then things
falter, as does Scott’s film.
Throughout
Hal, she incorporates excerpts of
scathing letters Ashby fired off to the studio suits he blamed for sabotaging
his films and his career by extension (read by Ben Foster). It is supposed to
illustrate what a pure, guileless soul he was, but they are really pretty
appalling. Seriously, can you blame a studio executive for not bending over
backwards for Ashby, after getting correspondence questioning his integrity,
his mother’s integrity, and his dog’s integrity?
Frankly,
watching Hal should make sensitive viewers
suspect Ashby suffered from some form of undiagnosed mental illness. It is not
cute. It is completely irresponsible behavior, bordering on mania. Just imagine
being on the receiving end of this sort of invective—and then try to envision
giving him final cut on a film your studio plowed considerable money into.
Yes,
there are some colorful behind-the-scenes details in Hal. Fortunately, Scott includes the legal dramas surrounding 8 Million Way to Die, because it is some
of the most interesting stuff in the picture. However, she ignores The Slugger’s Wife, which reportedly
horrified screenwriter Neil Simon. Bafflingly, she also overlooks Ashby’s
Rolling Stones concert doc, Let’s Spend
the Night Together, which people generally like for what it is.
Regardless,
it is painfully easy to see from Hal why
Ashby ended up on the outs with Hollywood. Scott and Ashby’s admirers want to
believe he was martyred for his politics, but can you name one studio film besides
John Wayne’s The Green Berets that supported
the Vietnam War effort or any whatsoever that opposed the Civil Rights Movement?
Perhaps instead, it was the scathing letters he compulsively sent to apparently
every studio executive with the power to say no. Honestly, watching this film
leads to a bit of queasiness, because it lacks the self-awareness that Ashby sure
seems to have had in short supply. Not recommended, Hal opens this Friday (9/7) in New York, at the IFC Center.
