Modern Romance
Brief Synopsis
A film editor's neuroses complicate his love life.
Cast & Crew
Read More
Albert Brooks
Director
Albert Brooks
Kathryn Harrold
Bruno Kirby
Jane Hallaren
James L. Brooks
Film Details
MPAA Rating
Genre
Comedy
Romance
Release Date
1981
Technical Specs
Duration
1h 33m
Synopsis
Robert and Mary's relationship has survived many break-ups. The obsessive and jealous Robert miserably attempts to make it through their current separation by throwing himself into his work as a film editor, using drugs, and making an unfortunate blind date. Then, determinated to win Mary back, his possessiveness once again gets in the way.
Director
Albert Brooks
Director
Cast
Albert Brooks
Kathryn Harrold
Bruno Kirby
Jane Hallaren
James L. Brooks
George Kennedy
Himself
Meadowlark Lemon
Himself
Albert Henderson
Kelly Ann Nakano
Ed Weinberger
Jerry Belson
Bob Einstein
Roger T Ito
Harvey Skolnik
Thelma Leeds
Dennis Kort
Joe Bratcher
Gene Garvin
Hugh Warden
George Sasaki
Karen Chandler
Rick Beckner
Clifford Einstein
Virginia Feingold
Candy Castillo
Tyann Means
Victor Toyota
Crew
The Association
Song Performer
James Berkey
Set Decorator
Bruce Birmelin
Photography
Albert Brooks
Screenplay
Jeff Bushelman
Sound Effects
Ross Cannon
Grip
Barbara Claman
Casting
Sharon Clark
Assistant
Joe Cocker
Song Performer
Joe Collins
Key Grip
Catherine E. Coulson
Assistant Camera
John Currin
Apprentice Editor
Fred Elmes
Camera Operator
Allan Falco
Transportation Coordinator
Robert Farmer
Best Boy
David Finfer
Editor
Stephen J Fisher
Unit Production Manager
Les Fresholtz
Sound Re-Recording Mixer
Ruth J Gribin
Production Secretary
Linda Henrikson
Costumer
Michael Jackson
Song Performer
Monica Johnson
Screenplay
Andree Juviler
Location Manager
Michael William Katz
Gaffer
Andre Kostelanetz
Song Performer
Debra Kurtz
Casting
Michael Looney
Assistant Director
Max Manlove
Production Assistant
Karen Martini
Production Secretary
Dennis Matsuda
Assistant Camera
Carol Meikle
Hair Stylist
Walter Murphy
Song Performer
Bill Nelson
Sound Mixer
Erik L Nelson
Property Master
Michael Ornstein
Assistant Editor
Steve Perry
Assistant Director
Arthur Piantadosi
Sound Re-Recording Mixer
Edward T. Richardson
Production Designer
Lance Rubin
Music
Tex Rudloff
Sound Re-Recording Mixer
Eric Saarinen
Director Of Photography
Earl Sampson
Boom Operator
Andrew Scheinman
Producer
Martin Shafer
Producer
Phyllis Shafran
Auditor
Gail Siemers
Assistant
Christina Smith
Makeup
Patrick Somerset
Sound Effects
Katsumasa Takasago
Song Performer
Paul Tampourlos
Transportation Coordinator
Larry Verne
Construction Coordinator
Paula Wakefield
Location Manager
Carole Westphall
Script Supervisor
Christine Zamiara
Costumer
Videos
Movie Clip
Trailer
Film Details
MPAA Rating
Genre
Comedy
Romance
Release Date
1981
Technical Specs
Duration
1h 33m
Articles
Modern Romance
Not Brooks, who with an insane purity refused to take it easy on his audiences and especially on himself. Allen in his standup days was quicker with a punchline. Brooks worked without a net, once appearing on Johnny Carson's Tonight Show, delivering a five-minute monologue, not getting a single laugh, then at the end declaring he had been doing standup for five years and had run out of material. The audience, Carson included, was convulsed with laughter, partly due, no doubt, to the simple release of what had to have been the accumulating tension.
With Brooks, there's nothing placating, or even mitigating. He encompasses comedy's three Ns neurosis, narcissism and neediness. His. Like much of modern life, he's funny and horrible at the same time. In Modern Romance, his alter ego film editor, Robert Cole, makes us laugh at his blindness to his own self-destructive obsessiveness, getting it so gratingly right that you can't stand being in the same room with him for more than a few beats before wanting to flee, screaming. In his film, he plays a guy who, to paraphrase the immortal Jimmy Durante, has the feeling that he wants to go, but still has the feeling that he wants to stay. Which of course leaves him nowhere. Which of course is the point of the unsparing, yet ruefully funny hyper-noodge and his off-the-charts behavior.
He's a guy who can invite his superhumanly patient girlfriend (Kathryn Harrold) to dinner, tell her he has to break up with her yet again ("It's a no-win situation Vietnam, us"), watch her storm off, then get angry because she didn't finish her meal. He's whiny and impossible, refusing to use his cuddly appearance to ingratiate himself, deliberately filming his scenes in small spaces to underline the narrowness of his self-circumscribed life, adding ever-impending claustrophobia to our reasons for wanting to be anywhere he isn't. Essentially, his character in Modern Romance spends a lot of time literally going around in circles in hyper-drive, turning the circles into a rut, Road-Runner-style, then turning the rut into a moat. His vehicle of choice is a sleek silver roadster he floors enroute through L.A. and its environs. Ordinarily you'd worry about him crashing, except that you know he can't, partly because the picture would end too soon, partly because it's out of keeping with his nonstop replenishing of his own Sisyphus myth.
His self-reflexiveness somehow seems more at home in L.A. than it might elsewhere in this film where the only real credibility struggle has to do with the Harrold character's willingness to keep going with him, and not slap a stiff restraining order on him; he even follows one break-up by stuffing his car with apology toys and flowers and leaving them on her doorstep. At one point she asks him if he knows the difference between real love and movie love. It's a fair question, although more to the point would have been whether he can love anyone, as in the famous New Yorker cartoon with the troubled Greek maiden standing on the bank of a stream and asking her handsome guy, "Tell me Narcissus, is it someone else?"
Brooks is not unaware of Hollywood mythmaking and its inner workings. His scenes at work at his editing job are funny, even envelope-pushing. He annoys the hell out of his stoic colleague (Bruno Kirby) by showing up bummed out over his latest breakup and then going back and forth endlessly about whether he should stay and work or go home because he can't concentrate. Here, too, cramped work spaces add to the walls-closing-in feeling. They do as well in the apartment to which he retreats, drunk and stuffed with Quaaludes. There he disses his answering machine, adores his record collection, and collapses, only to rise up, contact an old girlfriend, impulsively make a date with her, then, after picking her up, deposit her on her curb after driving around the block and deciding he really had better try to re-ignite the relationship with the woman he just declared himself glad he was free of.
It's that kind of movie. And yes, Brooks uses his character's job to slip in a few digs at movies. The movie he's working on is a Star Wars knockoff featuring George Kennedy in a silver lame robe, clutching a ray gun while prowling the corridors of a cheesy spacecraft. In a sound editing studio, there's a glancing remark about having to finish up and clear out because the next time slot has been assigned to the legendarily lengthy Heaven's Gate (1980). Filmmaker James L. Brooks gets a rare chance to show his stuff as an actor in a brief appearance as Brooks's and Kirby's vacillating boss. He later more than repaid the favor, giving Brooks perhaps his best screen role as the smart but nervous and camera-shy reporter in Broadcast News (1987). Albert Brooks, born Albert Lawrence Einstein, also cast his brother, Bob Einstein, in a brief, but very funny role as an aggressive sporting goods store salesman who loads the insecure narcissist down with armfuls of expensive junk.
But the number the clerk does on him is nothing compared to the number he does on himself and can't stop doing. Modern Romance is Brooks's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Mess. A very specific mess, a Hollywood mess, a finicky, funny, obsessive compulsive who just can't leave anything alone, who talks his way back into his girlfriend's bed with a declaration of love, then undoes it all by nosing through her papers, going ballistic over some out-of-town calls on her phone bill, and possessively interrogating her, unable to see that he doesn't really want to possess what he's being possessive about. It's not Brooks's editor who gets a workout in his overpriced running togs. It's perversity itself, in this film Stanley Kubrick himself no stranger to the obsessive-compulsive famously praised. Perhaps Kubrick was looking in a mirror while doing so. Or working on a draft of Eyes Wide Shut (1999) while recalling one of Brooks's memorable observations about the biz: "Being a screenwriter in Hollywood is like being a eunuch at an orgy." Either way, Modern Romance clearly defines one side of the comedy of discomfort's Hollywood-Manhattan divide.
Producers: Andrew Scheinman, Martin Shafer
Director: Albert Brooks
Screenplay: Albert Brooks, Monica Johnson
Cinematography: Eric Saarinen
Film Editing: David Finfer
Cast: Albert Brooks (Robert Cole), Kathryn Harrold (Mary Harvard), Tyann Means (waitress), Bruno Kirby (Jay), Jane Hallaren (Ellen), Karen Chandler (neighbor), Dennis Kort (health food salesman), Bob Einstein (sporting goods salesman), Virginia Feingold (bank receptionist), Thelma Bernstein (Albert Brooks' mother), Candy Castillo (drugstore manager), James L. Brooks (David), George Kennedy (himself and Zeron), Rick Beckner (Zeon)
C-93m.
by Jay Carr
Modern Romance
When Albert Brooks made his first film, Real Life (1979), you could sense a torpid Hollywood thinking it might rise up from its mat of comedic formula. Brooks's second film, Modern Romance (1981), clinched it. The sigh of collective relief that wafted from Hollywood to Manhattan's Carnegie Deli was palpable. Hollywood had its own West Coast Woody Allen. But the equating of Allen and Brooks, which still persists, conveniently overlooks some significant differences. In their glory days, Allen was funnier, Brooks was riskier. Much of Allen's humor came from his witty putdowns of himself and his screen persona's nebbishness. That he could achieve bittersweet poignancy as well became clear in Annie Hall (1977), Manhattan (1979) and Hannah and Her Sisters (1986). But there was always something placating in Allen's persona. He could be charming. He wanted us to laugh at him, yes, but he also wanted us to like him.
Not Brooks, who with an insane purity refused to take it easy on his audiences and especially on himself. Allen in his standup days was quicker with a punchline. Brooks worked without a net, once appearing on Johnny Carson's Tonight Show, delivering a five-minute monologue, not getting a single laugh, then at the end declaring he had been doing standup for five years and had run out of material. The audience, Carson included, was convulsed with laughter, partly due, no doubt, to the simple release of what had to have been the accumulating tension.
With Brooks, there's nothing placating, or even mitigating. He encompasses comedy's three Ns neurosis, narcissism and neediness. His. Like much of modern life, he's funny and horrible at the same time. In Modern Romance, his alter ego film editor, Robert Cole, makes us laugh at his blindness to his own self-destructive obsessiveness, getting it so gratingly right that you can't stand being in the same room with him for more than a few beats before wanting to flee, screaming. In his film, he plays a guy who, to paraphrase the immortal Jimmy Durante, has the feeling that he wants to go, but still has the feeling that he wants to stay. Which of course leaves him nowhere. Which of course is the point of the unsparing, yet ruefully funny hyper-noodge and his off-the-charts behavior.
He's a guy who can invite his superhumanly patient girlfriend (Kathryn Harrold) to dinner, tell her he has to break up with her yet again ("It's a no-win situation Vietnam, us"), watch her storm off, then get angry because she didn't finish her meal. He's whiny and impossible, refusing to use his cuddly appearance to ingratiate himself, deliberately filming his scenes in small spaces to underline the narrowness of his self-circumscribed life, adding ever-impending claustrophobia to our reasons for wanting to be anywhere he isn't. Essentially, his character in Modern Romance spends a lot of time literally going around in circles in hyper-drive, turning the circles into a rut, Road-Runner-style, then turning the rut into a moat. His vehicle of choice is a sleek silver roadster he floors enroute through L.A. and its environs. Ordinarily you'd worry about him crashing, except that you know he can't, partly because the picture would end too soon, partly because it's out of keeping with his nonstop replenishing of his own Sisyphus myth.
His self-reflexiveness somehow seems more at home in L.A. than it might elsewhere in this film where the only real credibility struggle has to do with the Harrold character's willingness to keep going with him, and not slap a stiff restraining order on him; he even follows one break-up by stuffing his car with apology toys and flowers and leaving them on her doorstep. At one point she asks him if he knows the difference between real love and movie love. It's a fair question, although more to the point would have been whether he can love anyone, as in the famous New Yorker cartoon with the troubled Greek maiden standing on the bank of a stream and asking her handsome guy, "Tell me Narcissus, is it someone else?"
Brooks is not unaware of Hollywood mythmaking and its inner workings. His scenes at work at his editing job are funny, even envelope-pushing. He annoys the hell out of his stoic colleague (Bruno Kirby) by showing up bummed out over his latest breakup and then going back and forth endlessly about whether he should stay and work or go home because he can't concentrate. Here, too, cramped work spaces add to the walls-closing-in feeling. They do as well in the apartment to which he retreats, drunk and stuffed with Quaaludes. There he disses his answering machine, adores his record collection, and collapses, only to rise up, contact an old girlfriend, impulsively make a date with her, then, after picking her up, deposit her on her curb after driving around the block and deciding he really had better try to re-ignite the relationship with the woman he just declared himself glad he was free of.
It's that kind of movie. And yes, Brooks uses his character's job to slip in a few digs at movies. The movie he's working on is a Star Wars knockoff featuring George Kennedy in a silver lame robe, clutching a ray gun while prowling the corridors of a cheesy spacecraft. In a sound editing studio, there's a glancing remark about having to finish up and clear out because the next time slot has been assigned to the legendarily lengthy Heaven's Gate (1980). Filmmaker James L. Brooks gets a rare chance to show his stuff as an actor in a brief appearance as Brooks's and Kirby's vacillating boss. He later more than repaid the favor, giving Brooks perhaps his best screen role as the smart but nervous and camera-shy reporter in Broadcast News (1987). Albert Brooks, born Albert Lawrence Einstein, also cast his brother, Bob Einstein, in a brief, but very funny role as an aggressive sporting goods store salesman who loads the insecure narcissist down with armfuls of expensive junk.
But the number the clerk does on him is nothing compared to the number he does on himself and can't stop doing. Modern Romance is Brooks's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Mess. A very specific mess, a Hollywood mess, a finicky, funny, obsessive compulsive who just can't leave anything alone, who talks his way back into his girlfriend's bed with a declaration of love, then undoes it all by nosing through her papers, going ballistic over some out-of-town calls on her phone bill, and possessively interrogating her, unable to see that he doesn't really want to possess what he's being possessive about. It's not Brooks's editor who gets a workout in his overpriced running togs. It's perversity itself, in this film Stanley Kubrick himself no stranger to the obsessive-compulsive famously praised. Perhaps Kubrick was looking in a mirror while doing so. Or working on a draft of Eyes Wide Shut (1999) while recalling one of Brooks's memorable observations about the biz: "Being a screenwriter in Hollywood is like being a eunuch at an orgy." Either way, Modern Romance clearly defines one side of the comedy of discomfort's Hollywood-Manhattan divide.
Producers: Andrew Scheinman, Martin Shafer
Director: Albert Brooks
Screenplay: Albert Brooks, Monica Johnson
Cinematography: Eric Saarinen
Film Editing: David Finfer
Cast: Albert Brooks (Robert Cole), Kathryn Harrold (Mary Harvard), Tyann Means (waitress), Bruno Kirby (Jay), Jane Hallaren (Ellen), Karen Chandler (neighbor), Dennis Kort (health food salesman), Bob Einstein (sporting goods salesman), Virginia Feingold (bank receptionist), Thelma Bernstein (Albert Brooks' mother), Candy Castillo (drugstore manager), James L. Brooks (David), George Kennedy (himself and Zeron), Rick Beckner (Zeon)
C-93m.
by Jay Carr
Modern Romance - The Perfect Neurotic Date Comedy - Albert Brooks's MODERN ROMANCE on DVD
New to DVD, Modern Romance is a romantic comedy, but in a way it's also an anti-romantic comedy. Few comedies delve into the deep pit of romantic obsession and emotional turmoil as Modern Romance does, or offer a hero as amusingly desperate. He's Robert Cole (Brooks), who opens the movie by breaking up with longtime on-again, off-again girlfriend Mary (Kathryn Harrold). "You've never heard of a no-win situation?" he asks her when speaking of their relationship. "Vietnam. This." Mary storms away, ordering Robert to not call him, the strong implication being he's dumped her and then come crawling back before.
Robert's often pathetic attempts to move on with his life comprise the bulk of the movie and its laughs. He tries to immerse himself in work (he's a film editor cutting a cheesy George Kennedy sci-fi movie at American International) but he's too pre-occupied with the break-up, his mood swings teetering from optimism to depression. So he takes the Quaaludes assistant editor Jay (a typically priceless Bruno Kirby) gives him, and goes home. Some of the best moments in Modern Romance simply follow Robert around his house, trying to feel good: putting on a record, talking to his pet bird, phoning Jay, fingering through his Rolodex ("Look at all my friends," he says to the bird), calling up a woman in his Rolodex that he doesn't even remember and making a date for the following evening.
Robert's amusing quest for contentment continues the following day, as he decides to start working out and heads to a health food store and then a sporting goods store, where he's pushed into buying expensive gear by the salesman (comedy vet Bob Einstein, Brooks' real-life brother and the future Super Dave Osborne). His attempts to forget Mary don't work, partially because of the pop songs he encounters on the car radio during his travels: Nazareth's schlocky cover of "Love Hurts," The Beach Boys' "God Only Knows," The Association's "Along Came Mary." The unhelpful assault of pop songs reaches its apex that night when Robert picks up his date and Brooks holds on a two-shot through the windshield of the couple driving off, as the long intro of Michael Jackson's "She's Out of My Life" builds up. As the lyrics begin ("She's out of my life/And I don't know whether to laugh or cry"), Robert circles the block, drops off the woman and the world's quickest date is over.
As with the shot through the windshield, in much of the action Brooks' direction is appealingly uncomplicated. He lets the comedy unfold from the situations, he doesn't gimmick them up. Following the non-date, Robert buys a pile of make-up gifts to leave on Mary's doorstep and the couple soon gets back together, but not after an obsessive night of waiting for her to phone that's so painful Robert has to simply leave his house. His night of roaming is a nicely sad little interlude, include an effective moment at a payphone where Robert waits, while an older man phones an ex, obsessively inquiring what she's up to with an aching blend of affection and aggression. It's a peek at a potential older Robert.
Of course, after the make-up sex, Robert and Mary's reconciliation doesn't go so smoothly. While looking for a razor at her house, he stumbles upon a phone bill with two very long calls to someone in New York City on them, and you know at some point he's going to quiz Mary about them. But Modern Romance isn't about things going smoothly. It's about the unintentionally amusing drudgery in life. To that end, in addition to the reconciliation, the second half of the movie also gives us more scenes concerning the movie Robert is editing, with a director (James L. Brooks, the writer-director) almost as neurotic as Robert. There's a hilarious sequence in which, after the director cajoles Robert and Jay into enhancing the sound of one shot of the sci-fi movie, the two go to a sound studio and deal with union sound engineers (the main one played by Albert Henderson of TV's Car 54, Where Are You?) who are blissfully disinterested in anything the two are trying to accomplish.
Brooks continues to play characters as neurotic and intentionally irritating as those he did in early movies like Modern Romance. His movies haven't been as funny recently because he no longer gives them formidable foils, as he does here with Mary, who regularly tells him off. In Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World, aside from one brief moment everyone actually agreed with Brooks' character whenever he said something stupid. Modern Romance, the DVD of which has no extras, shows when Brooks knew how to do more than just make his character misguided. He knew how to make him funny, too.
For more information about Modern Romance, visit Sony Pictures. To order Modern Romance, go to TCM Shopping.
by Paul Sherman
Modern Romance - The Perfect Neurotic Date Comedy - Albert Brooks's MODERN ROMANCE on DVD
Anyone who knows Albert Brooks solely from recent undernourished comedies such as The
Muse and Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World doesn't know what the
writer-director-actor is (or certainly was) capable of. His recent movies are mere shadows
of his first wave of movie comedies, including 1981's Modern Romance, made between his other
early standouts, Real Life and Lost in America (Monica Johnson co-wrote all three).
New to DVD, Modern Romance is a romantic comedy, but in a way it's also an
anti-romantic comedy. Few comedies delve into the deep pit of romantic obsession and
emotional turmoil as Modern Romance does, or offer a hero as amusingly desperate. He's
Robert Cole (Brooks), who opens the movie by breaking up with longtime on-again, off-again
girlfriend Mary (Kathryn Harrold). "You've never heard of a no-win situation?" he asks her when
speaking of their relationship. "Vietnam. This." Mary storms away, ordering Robert to not call him,
the strong implication being he's dumped her and then come crawling back before.
Robert's often pathetic attempts to move on with his life comprise the bulk of the movie and its
laughs. He tries to immerse himself in work (he's a film editor cutting a cheesy George Kennedy
sci-fi movie at American International) but he's too pre-occupied with the break-up, his mood
swings teetering from optimism to depression. So he takes the Quaaludes assistant editor Jay (a
typically priceless Bruno Kirby) gives him, and goes home. Some of the best moments in Modern
Romance simply follow Robert around his house, trying to feel good: putting on a record,
talking to his pet bird, phoning Jay, fingering through his Rolodex ("Look at all my friends," he
says to the bird), calling up a woman in his Rolodex that he doesn't even remember and making a
date for the following evening.
Robert's amusing quest for contentment continues the following day, as he decides to start working
out and heads to a health food store and then a sporting goods store, where he's pushed into buying
expensive gear by the salesman (comedy vet Bob Einstein, Brooks' real-life brother and the future
Super Dave Osborne). His attempts to forget Mary don't work, partially because of the pop songs he
encounters on the car radio during his travels: Nazareth's schlocky cover of "Love Hurts," The
Beach Boys' "God Only Knows," The Association's "Along Came Mary." The unhelpful assault of pop
songs reaches its apex that night when Robert picks up his date and Brooks holds on a two-shot
through the windshield of the couple driving off, as the long intro of Michael Jackson's "She's Out
of My Life" builds up. As the lyrics begin ("She's out of my life/And I don't know whether to laugh
or cry"), Robert circles the block, drops off the woman and the world's quickest date is over.
As with the shot through the windshield, in much of the action Brooks' direction is appealingly
uncomplicated. He lets the comedy unfold from the situations, he doesn't gimmick them up. Following
the non-date, Robert buys a pile of make-up gifts to leave on Mary's doorstep and the couple soon
gets back together, but not after an obsessive night of waiting for her to phone that's so painful
Robert has to simply leave his house. His night of roaming is a nicely sad little interlude,
include an effective moment at a payphone where Robert waits, while an older man phones an ex,
obsessively inquiring what she's up to with an aching blend of affection and aggression. It's a
peek at a potential older Robert.
Of course, after the make-up sex, Robert and Mary's reconciliation doesn't go so smoothly. While
looking for a razor at her house, he stumbles upon a phone bill with two very long calls to someone
in New York City on them, and you know at some point he's going to quiz Mary about them. But
Modern Romance isn't about things going smoothly. It's about the unintentionally amusing
drudgery in life. To that end, in addition to the reconciliation, the second half of the movie also
gives us more scenes concerning the movie Robert is editing, with a director (James L. Brooks, the
writer-director) almost as neurotic as Robert. There's a hilarious sequence in which, after the
director cajoles Robert and Jay into enhancing the sound of one shot of the sci-fi movie, the two
go to a sound studio and deal with union sound engineers (the main one played by Albert Henderson
of TV's Car 54, Where Are You?) who are blissfully disinterested in anything the two are
trying to accomplish.
Brooks continues to play characters as neurotic and intentionally irritating as those he did in
early movies like Modern Romance. His movies haven't been as funny recently because he no
longer gives them formidable foils, as he does here with Mary, who regularly tells him off. In
Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World, aside from one brief moment everyone actually
agreed with Brooks' character whenever he said something stupid. Modern Romance, the
DVD of which has no extras, shows when Brooks knew how to do more than just make his character
misguided. He knew how to make him funny, too.
For more information about Modern Romance, visit Sony
Pictures. To order Modern Romance, go to
TCM Shopping.
by Paul Sherman
Quotes
Trivia
Miscellaneous Notes
Released in United States Spring March 1, 1981
Released in United States Spring March 1, 1981