December 6th and 13th | 9 Movies
“The only genius I ever worked with,” director Arthur Hiller proclaimed of Paddy Chayefsky. The celebrated Bronx-born writer enjoyed a successful career during the Golden Age of Television in the 1950s before transitioning to Hollywood. On December 6th and 13th, TCM presents two special evenings of Chayefsky films. While the prolific scribe worked across mediums, the nine movies TCM is showing represent the bulk of Chayefsky’s cinematic output. He won Academy Awards for three of those nine features: Marty (1955), The Hospital (1971) and Network (1976). Chayefsky was one of only five writers to win three times, and remarkably, he’s the only person to do so as the sole credited screenwriter.
From intimately surveying the loneliness of middle age to cynically exploring the frustrations of people in crisis, Chayefsky crafted characters that “are all of us,” director Delbert Mann observed. As renowned as he was for his talent, Chayefsky was also infamous for his work style and personality. He was direct with his suggestions, generally eager to help actors with questions and demanded generous creative control—a rarity in Hollywood—which let him fulfill his script’s vision through to the final product. At the same time, his constant supervision and incendiary nature could cause clashes on set. The cinematic result, if not always a hit, possessed his distinct style: authentic human drama, vivid characters and emotionally charged dialogue.
TCM’s tribute kicks off with Marty. Ernest Borgnine plays the titular character, a Bronx butcher who lives with his mother, Teresa (Esther Minciotti). Friends and family hound him to settle down, but few options present themselves until Marty connects with Clara Snyder (Betsy Blair) at a dance. Projecting their own insecurities, Marty’s mother and friends try to dissuade him from pursuing Clara, but Marty soon realizes his happiness is more important.
The idea for Marty came to Chayefsky when he spotted signs for a Friendship Club while filming a TV show. He finished the teleplay in a rush as a last-minute sub on The Philco Television Playhouse in 1953. Before the telecast ended, viewers flooded phone lines, many confessing: “That’s the story of my life.” Chayefsky soon received offers for a movie version, but he was hesitant; his first Hollywood writing experience years earlier was a negative one. So, he asked Marty TV director Delbert Mann, who had never been on a film set, to go with him. Chayefsky and Mann knew Borgnine but weren’t sure he possessed the depth required for the lead role—until they heard him read. Borgnine recalled years later that they shot Marty so quickly that the actors basically stayed in character the whole time.
Nothing about Marty’s production was normal by Hollywood standards, from a long rehearsal period, to Mann and Chayefsky’s “co-directorship,” to the realistic photography and lighting. Marty won Cannes’ famed Palme d’Or, and from there, word of mouth and strong reviews propelled the film to success. “Chayefsky’s script has such wonderful compassion that every character is treated with sympathy and understanding,” The Hollywood Reporter remarked. “As a work of screen art, ‘Marty’ ranks with the best that Europe or America has to offer.” Marty found industry validation in its eight Academy Award nominations, winning four for Best Picture, Director, Actor and Adapted Screenplay.
Marty’s success boosted Chayefsky’s stock in Hollywood. His next big screen endeavor, The Catered Affair (1956), was adapted by Gore Vidal from Chayefsky’s play and starred Borgnine, Bette Davis and Debbie Reynolds. The following year, Chayefsky adapted The Bachelor Party (1957) from his own teleplay, followed by The Goddess (1958), his second script nominated for an Oscar and his first written specifically for the screen. Chayefsky enjoyed immense autonomy on The Goddess under Columbia head Harry Cohn, who signed Chayefsky and Mann on for Middle of the Night (1959).
In Middle of the Night, a romance gingerly blossoms between newly divorced receptionist Betty Preisser (Kim Novak) and her boss, Jerry Kingsley (Fredric March), 30+ years her senior. Multiple factors threaten the couple’s relationship, but stirred by advice from one of his colleagues stuck in an unhappy marriage, Jerry decides to find happiness where he can—with Betty.
Middle of the Night was first produced for TV in 1954 and became a Broadway hit in 1956. Chayefsky long wanted March for the lead and finally got him for the screen adaptation. Eva Marie Saint, star of the TV version, was the first choice for Betty, but she wasn’t available, and after Elizabeth Taylor fell through, Novak won the role. Chayefsky and Mann weren’t confident of Novak’s dramatic chops, and extra rehearsal time was allotted if needed, which lifted the nervous actress’s confidence. “Paddy’s heroine is a girl who needs support and assurance. So is Kim,” Mann commented. “The male character is a fellow who projects that for her. Freddie personifies that sort of support.” The strong focus on rehearsing made for a fast, smooth experience when cameras finally rolled.
In an interview, Chayefsky shared his message for Middle of the Night: “I just say, live and be happy. Stop looking for hidden, inner, obtuse meanings—you’ll just get lost. Live, love, find the beautiful and enjoy it.” While the stars mostly received praise, reviews were mixed. One point of contention for several critics was how the film minimized many of the play’s Jewish elements. (This could partly be due to Chayefsky’s concern early in his career that taking experiences from his Bronx Jewish upbringing would stereotype him as a Jewish writer.)
Chayefsky initially intended to write original stories, but he was eventually swayed to adapt material, including his next film, the war satire The Americanization of Emily (1964). The movie received great notices but did not perform strongly at the box office. That disappointment, along with other failed adaptations during the 1960s, rattled Chayefsky. In 1969, he began fleshing out an idea that would be his comeback.
Chaos surrounds Dr. Bock (George C. Scott) in the black comedy The Hospital: His wife left him, he’s estranged from his kids and he’s dealing with suspicious deaths attributed to improper treatment. Things improve when Bock falls in love with a patient’s daughter, Barbara Drummond (Diana Rigg), but he soon discovers her father is responsible for the murders, a twisted act of outrage against modern medicine’s inhumanity.
Chayefsky approached The Hospital as a “Gothic horror story” exposing society’s problems with a tone grounded in “the hardness of comedy which is based on total authenticity, and the fact that the institution itself is the star.” Chayefsky and producer Howard Gottfried, who had never made a movie, secured a two-picture deal at United Artists that offered creative control. The duo won big hiring decisions, from star Scott to director Arthur Hiller, who had helmed The Americanization of Emily. Hiller recalled in his oral history with the Academy that he had some script input, discussing and changing story elements with Chayefsky throughout filming.
Chayefsky researched intently, reading scientific journals, visiting hospitals and reviewing healthcare documents to grasp industry lingo. “Everything that happened in the picture happened in a hospital somewhere at some time,” he said, noting that doctors and nurses were the film’s biggest advocates. The movie was even shot in a brand-new wing of New York’s Metropolitan Hospital, providing the production with realistic resources.
The Hospital received mixed reviews. Andrew Sarris wrote in The Village Voice that it was “almost a shock to be reminded what an intelligent craftsman he [Chayefsky] can be at his best,” while Variety called it “a civilian mis-MASH.” Nevertheless, Chayefsky’s sharp script won him a second Oscar, and Scott’s masterful performance earned him a Best Actor nomination, a year after he refused his statue for Patton (1970).
In Network, Howard Beale (Peter Finch) learns his news show will be dropped due to falling ratings and threatens to commit suicide on-air. The bleak live rant he launches into instead proves a ratings hit, resulting in his own show as the “mad prophet of the airwaves” and paving the way for ambitious producer Diana Christensen (Faye Dunaway) to develop shocking counter-establishment programming. But pushing the boundaries too far leads to dangerous consequences.
“Paddy had that uncanny ability to see just where everything was leading,” Network director Sidney Lumet observed. In blurring the lines between news and entertainment, showcasing brutal reality shows and highlighting corporate meddling, Chayefsky’s vision was certainly prescient. To inform his script, Chayefsky observed network meetings, control rooms and auditions. He also took from his own TV experience and prodded NBC Nightly News anchor John Chancellor for information. (When asked if he thought an anchor could lose it on air, Chancellor replied: “Every day.”)
Finch initially jeered at being asked to audition but campaigned for the role after he read the script. (Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Paul Newman and others already turned it down.) Dunaway, who contended with the likes of Jane Fonda and Diane Keaton for Diana, was warned by Lumet that Diana possessed no vulnerabilities, and if Dunaway tried injecting any it would be cut. To that, Dunaway laughed—and landed the part.
Network’s bold mix of realism, satire and rage resulted in polarizing reviews, which MGM and United Artists liked; controversy equaled more ticket sales. “Early rumors have it that the networks don’t know whether to kill Chayefsky or thank him for all those suggestions on how to jazz up their network news shows,” the Soho Weekly News retorted. Networks got the message, though many in TV didn’t agree with it, with some calling the film “preposterous.”
Network garnered 10 Oscar nominations, winning for Best Actor (Finch won posthumously), Actress (Dunaway), Supporting Actress (Beatrice Straight) and Writing. The film was one of only a few to receive five acting nominations and the second movie after A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) to win three acting awards.
With the success of Network, Chayefsky asked for a million dollars and got it for his next film, Altered States (1980). Edward Jessup (William Hurt), a scientist studying schizophrenia, personally undertakes experiments with sensory deprivation and hallucinatory drugs to tap into other states of consciousness. As his tests progress, he starts to endure intense physical changes, including biological devolution, that become increasingly frightening to his wife, Emily (Blair Brown), and colleagues and threaten his life.
Chayefsky dove into the material, engaging with the writings of Dr. John C. Lilly, who ran studies on human consciousness under the influence of psychedelics, and even experiencing a sensory deprivation tank himself. He sold the idea as a novel first—he had never written a book and was uneasy with the thought—a move made to generate intrigue in the film version.
Problems abounded before cameras rolled on Altered States. First, director Arthur Penn failed to grasp Chayefsky’s complex vision and was fired; Ken Russell, who recalled in his autobiography “Altered States” that he was the 27th director approached for the job, immediately clashed with Chayefsky. Then, Columbia dropped the project after an executive shake-up, leaving Warner Brothers to step in. Russell ordered Chayefsky off the set when he interfered with his direction, and the disgruntled writer returned home to New York. Since he still had approval though, rushes were flown to Chayefsky daily for signoff.
Released on Christmas Day 1980, Altered States received mostly positive notices, with Time extolling: “This one has everything: sex, violence, comedy, thrills, tenderness… Madness is its subject and substance, style and spirit.” Despite the warm reception, Chayefsky refused his screen credit, using his birth name and middle name, Sidney Aaron, as a pseudonym.
Altered States ended up being Chayefsky’s last screenplay; he passed away from cancer in August 1981. Not long before his death, Chayefsky was asked about the legacy he wanted to leave. “A writer is what he writes, and I would like to be remembered as a good writer,” he replied. “I would like the stuff I write to be done and read for many generations. I just hope the world lasts that long.”
