Robert Redford Part 7

According to Larner, Ritchie then told him: "We have about ten guys to consider for this writing job, and we have to start shooting in November. If we miss that window, Bob isn't available."

"That kind of straightened me out," Larner recalls, "and I remember replying, 'I write fast.'"

Redford explained his story line: he wanted to make a film about a liberal California senatorial candidate, the son of a respected former governor, who sets out simply to upset the front-running conservative candidate, then gets drawn into the battle and sells out.

Larner immediately challenged the concept. He told Redford, "In my experience, they don't sell out. They get carried away. It's like McCarthy, it's like Nicholson, who are interchangeable. They fix on a belief and are confronted by the Niagara Falls of reality. They hear the sound of the rushing water but don't see it. Then, before they know it, they are over the falls, and they evolve into something else."

Redford was not happy with the response.

Larner felt he had not told Redford what he wanted to hear. "I learned quickly that Bob likes to control conversations. Ultimately, I gave in, because it is too disturbing not to. But there and then, at that first Wildwood meeting, I was talking turkey, in effect saying, 'The problem with you guys-Nicholson, McCarthy, Redford, whoever-is that you fictionalize your own existence. It becomes tough for you to know when you have, in fact, gone over the falls.'"

The clash was momentary. In Larner's view, "Redford got it. I looked into his eyes and saw that he could conceivably be insulted by me, but he wasn't. He was challenged personally by my concept of celebrity corruption and it did not offend him. He could objectify. That was enough to engage me. And with that sparky energy, we began."

California governor Jerry Brown came to believe The Candidate' The Candidate's central character, Bill McKay, was based on him. Others would claim Larner and Redford had satirized Bobby Kennedy or McCarthy, and that the campaign manager, Marvin Lucas, was d.i.c.k Goodwin or the Los Angeles lawyer Nelson Rising, an aide to California senator John Tunney. None of this, says Larner, is true, though elements drawn from real life were incorporated. For Redford, some real-life templates were close at hand. Jamie and Shauna were close friends with John Lindsay's children, and the Lindsays regularly skied at Sundance. In fact, not long before, Lindsay had chosen Sundance as the venue to announce a shifted allegiance from the Liberal Party to the Democratic Party, with Redford by his side for the photo op. Redford denies Lindsay was reflected in McKay's character; Larner wasn't so sure. "I think something of the post-JFK n.o.blesse oblige brand of altruism that Lindsay represented slipped into every conversation we had about the film," says Larner. "But it's true that Lindsay's 'arc' was completely different. That is, different in every way, except one: Lindsay's failure demonstrates the failure of political humanism, which is precisely the moral we tried to project in McKay's success."

Redford early on employed spin doctor David Garth, a Lindsay ally, as technical consultant. Larner immediately saw a central character in his fiction come to life. Klein, the head of Bill McKay's media campaign, he decided, would be a version of Dave Garth. "Klein/Garth was vital in my story," says Larner, "because he would be the Greek chorus in the whole fictional campaign. He would be credibility. He was the guy who would say, 'You are X points behind in the polls and you need to do such and such.' I knew this breed of hustler-like d.i.c.k Goodwin also-who believe they can direct history as much as any candidate." Larner's first meeting with Garth was electric. "He told us that he was personally going to see to it that John Lindsay became the next president of the United States. He said he knew how to do it, that he would send Lindsay out in the primaries to do it the folksy way, the non-Republican way, by staying in people's houses and not the big hotels. I thought this was horses.h.i.t, because in my time with McCarthy I'd heard all this magic elixir stuff from every type of hustler-including myself-and most of it was nothing. It was horses.h.i.t but it was sensational because I thought, If we can base our media hustler on Dave Garth, and then give a little of Lindsay to Robert Redford's McKay, we'll get attention and get our point across."

Within days, Redford called to say Garth had had words with his lawyer and had withdrawn from the film, "in case it impinged on his legitimate political work." He had wanted $200,000 to advise.

No matter. Larner still wanted to "keep it real." Redford, however, seemed keener on the poetry than real-life role models. The men verbally sparred, says Larner, and he realized that despite the triumph of the Sundance Kid, Sundance Kid, Redford still didn't have the clout to drive the movie as radically as he wished. "His power with the studios was fragile, and he was still beholden to Redford still didn't have the clout to drive the movie as radically as he wished. "His power with the studios was fragile, and he was still beholden to the deal. the deal. Maybe that's the grand illusion of Hollywood star power. Maybe it always comes with a begging bowl." Maybe that's the grand illusion of Hollywood star power. Maybe it always comes with a begging bowl."

As for the deal, it was Redford's good fortune that Richard Zanuck, riding high on Butch Ca.s.sidy, Butch Ca.s.sidy, had moved to Warners. Redford was yet to experience the annoyance of Warners' lame distribution of had moved to Warners. Redford was yet to experience the annoyance of Warners' lame distribution of Jeremiah Johnson Jeremiah Johnson and was content to make a deal that was as lean as and was content to make a deal that was as lean as Downhill Racer. Downhill Racer. The budget, drawn up by Ritchie and production manager Walter Coblenz, was agreed to at a rock-bottom $1.5 million, with no off-the-top fee for Redford. "I accepted because I wanted to get on with it, and Mike and I decided we'd do it tight and in doc.u.mentary style, with the camera frame jumping around." Redford was also amenable because he liked the new regime at Warners, with Zanuck in the driver's seat and Frank Wells serving as production chief. "It was a brand-new dawn for them. They were up against it as a working enterprise, and suddenly hungry for risk. We had a lot in common; we were idealists and we made good partners at that time." The budget, drawn up by Ritchie and production manager Walter Coblenz, was agreed to at a rock-bottom $1.5 million, with no off-the-top fee for Redford. "I accepted because I wanted to get on with it, and Mike and I decided we'd do it tight and in doc.u.mentary style, with the camera frame jumping around." Redford was also amenable because he liked the new regime at Warners, with Zanuck in the driver's seat and Frank Wells serving as production chief. "It was a brand-new dawn for them. They were up against it as a working enterprise, and suddenly hungry for risk. We had a lot in common; we were idealists and we made good partners at that time."

The scriptwriting for The Candidate The Candidate was unlike what Redford calls his "fireside collaborations" with Pollack. To begin, Larner and Redford created index cards on which were written pertinent headlines concerning the campaign as Redford envisioned it: The cards said "Fund-raiser" and "Environment" and "Hotel Room Service." These were laid out like a puzzle and placed in order of good "beats" for the screenplay. "Once we had that," says Redford, "it was down to Jeremy to create the people." was unlike what Redford calls his "fireside collaborations" with Pollack. To begin, Larner and Redford created index cards on which were written pertinent headlines concerning the campaign as Redford envisioned it: The cards said "Fund-raiser" and "Environment" and "Hotel Room Service." These were laid out like a puzzle and placed in order of good "beats" for the screenplay. "Once we had that," says Redford, "it was down to Jeremy to create the people."

While Redford worked on The Hot Rock The Hot Rock through the summer, he and Larner jogged or played tennis when they could in Central Park, all the time ma.s.saging the script. When Redford's shoot wrapped, they holed up at Larner's home in Ma.s.sachusetts. The first of what would be seven drafts of through the summer, he and Larner jogged or played tennis when they could in Central Park, all the time ma.s.saging the script. When Redford's shoot wrapped, they holed up at Larner's home in Ma.s.sachusetts. The first of what would be seven drafts of The Candidate The Candidate was finished by summer's end. Redford found it "delightful, but too windy" and set about fierce editing. Larner, at first, took offense. was finished by summer's end. Redford found it "delightful, but too windy" and set about fierce editing. Larner, at first, took offense.

"He wouldn't allow the dialogue I'd written for Bill McKay's mistress," says Larner. "He told me his public would not accept the mistress as a personality. as a personality. I questioned this, the historical reality, the Kennedy brothers' mistresses, all that. I was stunned by his concept of his personal image. It was annoying, I suppose, but you had to credit his clarity." I questioned this, the historical reality, the Kennedy brothers' mistresses, all that. I was stunned by his concept of his personal image. It was annoying, I suppose, but you had to credit his clarity."

As the movie came together, Ritchie delighted in what he saw as "another Pyrrhic arc" story line, similar to Downhill Racer, Downhill Racer, where an objective is sought at huge personal cost, the war is won and the audience is left to meditate on the putative rewards. When we first encounter McKay, he is consulting with autoworkers, sleeves rolled up, a high-minded lawyer without guile or venality. Then he is manipulated by his campaign manager, Marvin Lucas, into tackling the inc.u.mbent senator, Crocker Jarmon. McKay agrees because it allows him a podium from which to state what he truly feels about social problems. When McKay's openness elicits a strong response from the electorate, the party pros step in to repackage him. To his astonishment, McKay, the rank outsider, ends up winning the senatorial campaign. When Chappellet wins on the ski slopes in where an objective is sought at huge personal cost, the war is won and the audience is left to meditate on the putative rewards. When we first encounter McKay, he is consulting with autoworkers, sleeves rolled up, a high-minded lawyer without guile or venality. Then he is manipulated by his campaign manager, Marvin Lucas, into tackling the inc.u.mbent senator, Crocker Jarmon. McKay agrees because it allows him a podium from which to state what he truly feels about social problems. When McKay's openness elicits a strong response from the electorate, the party pros step in to repackage him. To his astonishment, McKay, the rank outsider, ends up winning the senatorial campaign. When Chappellet wins on the ski slopes in Downhill Racer, Downhill Racer, a reporter asks him, "What will you do now?" to which he mumblingly replies, "I don't know." At the end of a reporter asks him, "What will you do now?" to which he mumblingly replies, "I don't know." At the end of The Candidate, The Candidate, McKay faces the same conundrum, asking his campaign manager, "What do we do now?" McKay faces the same conundrum, asking his campaign manager, "What do we do now?"

Ritchie, whose capacity for intellectual theorizing was impressive, be-lieved that form followed function in film. His prize example was. .h.i.tchc.o.c.k, who thematically loaded interwar movies like The 39 Steps The 39 Steps and and The Lady Vanishes The Lady Vanishes with national paranoia but never lost sight of paced storytelling. In with national paranoia but never lost sight of paced storytelling. In The Candidate, The Candidate, said Ritchie, the trick was reversed. "I know it might be said of me, in my earlier days, that I was a 'form' director. But that's not how I approached it. I was a story guy. So was Larner. But it was to Bob's eternal credit that the form, the theme, if you like, of this movie was the center. Very few productions I've been involved with developed with such evaluative power. I remember reading what Larner and Bob came up with and saying, 'If we get the beats right, we really have something amazing.'" said Ritchie, the trick was reversed. "I know it might be said of me, in my earlier days, that I was a 'form' director. But that's not how I approached it. I was a story guy. So was Larner. But it was to Bob's eternal credit that the form, the theme, if you like, of this movie was the center. Very few productions I've been involved with developed with such evaluative power. I remember reading what Larner and Bob came up with and saying, 'If we get the beats right, we really have something amazing.'"

Unlike Pollack's, Ritchie's career had hardly leaped forward in the last few years. His current film with Lee Marvin, produced by Joe Wizan, was another studio-less production, but Ritchie was comfortable. "I liked finding the oddball script. I liked finding unknown actors. I liked being the outside guy. And this fit in with the radical Bob. I often thought we were like fugitives on the run. It put great pressure, in a good way, on the imaginative process because, in every department-design, costume, all of it-we were always improvising."

In choosing actors, Redford and Ritchie collaborated closely. Peter Boyle was selected for Lucas, Don Porter for Senator Jarmon, Allen Garfield for Klein and for Nancy, McKay's wife, Karen Carlson, a twenty-seven-year-old Louisiana-born Miss America runner-up. Natalie Wood and Bill Bradley had walk-ons. "Those were impromptu situations," said Ritchie. "Someone would drop by the day we were shooting, and Bob'd say, 'Okay, you're in.'" Natalie Wood became a McKay fan in a jostling crowd; Bradley a bus driver. Actual ABC and NBC anchormen covered McKay's campaign in the film.

The most exciting casting for Redford was Melvyn Douglas, a frontline victim of McCarthyism who was "graylisted" in the fifties for his support of liberal Democratic causes. It was Douglas's wife, Helen Gahagan Doug-las, who had fallen afoul of Nixon in the bitterly contested 1960 Senate race, when Nixon labeled her "a pinko right down to her underwear." Gahagan Douglas, in response, christened Nixon "Tricky d.i.c.k" and went on to fill the post of treasury secretary in Kennedy's administration. Redford recalled how his father had stood up for Gahagan Douglas all those years ago, and took great pride in offering her husband the role of McKay's father, a former governor of California, who attempts to call his son to task in the film.

The Candidate started shooting in November 1971, a studio film in name only, based in offices at Mill Valley in Marin County, not far from Charlie and Helen's new home, on San Francis...o...b..y at Tiburon. It was shot over forty-one twelve-hour days, wrapping shortly after Christmas. Logistically, it was a ma.s.sive undertaking, spanning media events, campaign speeches and endless traveling scenes. Said Ritchie, "We were constantly hustling for favors from department stores, cabs, everybody we crossed. Someone loaned a limo, someone else had a radio show crew who were willing to drop by. Our ticker tape parade was the cla.s.sic example. There was no way we could fund a proper street parade. So we cashed in on the fact that there was a New Year's Eve tradition in San Francisco where, at 1:00 p.m., office workers opened their windows and threw out the shreds of last year's calendar. 'Okay,' we said, 'here's our parade!' So we staged McKay's drive-through and everybody partic.i.p.ated. They cl.u.s.tered at the windows to see the great Robert Redford! And that became a very expensive-looking campaign parade on film." The improvisations stretched to the final hours of filming when, on a United flight home to Los Angeles, an extra scene with McKay and his fellow travelers was shuffled together. started shooting in November 1971, a studio film in name only, based in offices at Mill Valley in Marin County, not far from Charlie and Helen's new home, on San Francis...o...b..y at Tiburon. It was shot over forty-one twelve-hour days, wrapping shortly after Christmas. Logistically, it was a ma.s.sive undertaking, spanning media events, campaign speeches and endless traveling scenes. Said Ritchie, "We were constantly hustling for favors from department stores, cabs, everybody we crossed. Someone loaned a limo, someone else had a radio show crew who were willing to drop by. Our ticker tape parade was the cla.s.sic example. There was no way we could fund a proper street parade. So we cashed in on the fact that there was a New Year's Eve tradition in San Francisco where, at 1:00 p.m., office workers opened their windows and threw out the shreds of last year's calendar. 'Okay,' we said, 'here's our parade!' So we staged McKay's drive-through and everybody partic.i.p.ated. They cl.u.s.tered at the windows to see the great Robert Redford! And that became a very expensive-looking campaign parade on film." The improvisations stretched to the final hours of filming when, on a United flight home to Los Angeles, an extra scene with McKay and his fellow travelers was shuffled together.

For Ritchie, the biggest disappointment was Karen Carlson, who, he said, "became besotted" with Redford as production progressed. "I didn't like that, because she became emotionally involved. I tried to intervene, but it's impossible when you are dealing with real people, with real obsessions. I spoke to Bob and he was helpful but, I think, also concerned. Her role was the dutiful wife. It often felt like Fatal Attraction. Fatal Attraction." Carlson herself admitted to "schizophrenic" feelings, confessing to writer Bruce Bahrenburg during production that McKay/Redford's dallying in the wings with an attractive extra upset her: "I didn't know whether it was [the wife] Nancy reacting to McKay or myself to Bob Redford," said Carlson. "But I knew that it was time to try to separate my feelings. I had a long talk with Bob about them."

As The Candidate The Candidate drew to a close, Michael Daves, the a.s.sistant director, observed Larner as "a permanent fixture in Bob's life, working under horrendous pressure to draft, redraft, find a new scene, lose a new scene, find an angle, stick in a commercial, take out a name or a face or a place." In the end, perhaps, this very closeness overwhelmed the friendship. Redford liked Larner, found him hugely gifted, but one incident sounded the death knell for Larner. "I wanted to write a scene based on a true-life experience, where the candidate goes onto an Indian reservation and pumps the flesh," says Larner. "The chief adorns him with a headdress that doesn't fit, and the scene, visually and verbally, has all the imagery of the humiliating phoniness of what candidacy truly is. I wrote it but Bob said he couldn't play it, that his relationship with the Indian community was too precious to him. I defended my scene, saying, 'This is just a movie, Bob, and McKay, the character, loses his integrity here.' But Mike Ritchie took me aside and warned me to drop it. He told me, 'You won't get Bob to do what Bob doesn't want to do. This isn't a matter of negotiation, so please spare all of us the trouble.'" drew to a close, Michael Daves, the a.s.sistant director, observed Larner as "a permanent fixture in Bob's life, working under horrendous pressure to draft, redraft, find a new scene, lose a new scene, find an angle, stick in a commercial, take out a name or a face or a place." In the end, perhaps, this very closeness overwhelmed the friendship. Redford liked Larner, found him hugely gifted, but one incident sounded the death knell for Larner. "I wanted to write a scene based on a true-life experience, where the candidate goes onto an Indian reservation and pumps the flesh," says Larner. "The chief adorns him with a headdress that doesn't fit, and the scene, visually and verbally, has all the imagery of the humiliating phoniness of what candidacy truly is. I wrote it but Bob said he couldn't play it, that his relationship with the Indian community was too precious to him. I defended my scene, saying, 'This is just a movie, Bob, and McKay, the character, loses his integrity here.' But Mike Ritchie took me aside and warned me to drop it. He told me, 'You won't get Bob to do what Bob doesn't want to do. This isn't a matter of negotiation, so please spare all of us the trouble.'"

Robert Penn Warren once wrote of Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms A Farewell to Arms that its triumph was the summing-up of "the inner meaning" of its era, not in historical overview but because "it cut back to the beginning of the process." Ritchie believed the same held true for that its triumph was the summing-up of "the inner meaning" of its era, not in historical overview but because "it cut back to the beginning of the process." Ritchie believed the same held true for The Candidate: The Candidate: "When I looked at the finished cut, I knew we had made a statement. McKay wasn't Robert Kennedy or Tunney or anyone the media claimed he was. The way Bob conceived it, he was the encapsulation of 'the moment' just after Eisenhower. He was a reduction of all of the innocence and naivete that drove the youth revolt of the sixties. The suits were the corruption. McKay was every kid who ever burned a flag on a campus or stuck a flower in the barrel of a gun. He was Bob: the guy who believed an individual can change the system. But then gets eaten by the system once in it." "When I looked at the finished cut, I knew we had made a statement. McKay wasn't Robert Kennedy or Tunney or anyone the media claimed he was. The way Bob conceived it, he was the encapsulation of 'the moment' just after Eisenhower. He was a reduction of all of the innocence and naivete that drove the youth revolt of the sixties. The suits were the corruption. McKay was every kid who ever burned a flag on a campus or stuck a flower in the barrel of a gun. He was Bob: the guy who believed an individual can change the system. But then gets eaten by the system once in it."

In the recent past, Redford's family life had changed. In 1968 Tiger died of heart failure in Waterford, Connecticut, his son at his bedside. The distractions of travel, of maintaining a life in New York and Utah and Los Angeles, had created wide, empty s.p.a.ces in family life. Shauna, Jamie and Amy all strove to keep their relationships with their father, and all suffered the strain of his fame as much as his absence. Jamie remembers the early seventies as "the time of the crazies." There was the well-circulated magazine report about the woman who claimed she married Redford in secret in Mexico in 1956; the frequent anonymous calls to the Redfords' unlisted numbers; and the stalkers, hustlers and paparazzi who seemed to tag along everywhere. The family struggled to maintain normalcy and unity. They continued to spend holidays together, and constantly stayed in touch by phone. But an erosion was taking place. Jamie and Shauna insisted on walking the few blocks to the Dalton School each day, but this simple pleasure was often denied them. "From time to time security guards came into the picture," says Jamie. "We absolutely hated the idea of it, but the escalation of my father's fame was beyond Bill McKay in The Candidate The Candidate. It was so extreme that we were made aware of the risks just by opening a newspaper. We worried about him because he was so visible. At that time he was everywhere, like Hershey bars. We wondered, Will he endure? Will the family endure?"

14.

Idols Over Labor Day weekend of 1971, while Redford worked with Larner in the living room of the writer's Cambridge, Ma.s.sachusetts, apartment, he was unaware that the first act of the Watergate drama was unfolding in the kitchen. Larner had offered refuge to Daniel Ellsberg, the former marine officer turned RAND defense a.n.a.lyst. Ellsberg had purloined seven thousand pages of doc.u.ments about the American government's secret policy on Vietnam, the so-called Pentagon Papers. having failed to engage congressional interest in a public expose, he had given them to The New York Times, The New York Times, which had published them in June. Attorney General John Mitch.e.l.l had imposed an immediate restraint order, but the Supreme Court had overruled him, and d.a.m.ning new excerpts of the papers were published to widening public outrage. They established that the government knowingly lied about the facts of the Gulf of Tonkin incident as a pretext for accelerating the Vietnam War. By the end of the summer of 1971, Ellsberg was on the run from agents of the Nixon government who, allegedly, wanted to silence him. which had published them in June. Attorney General John Mitch.e.l.l had imposed an immediate restraint order, but the Supreme Court had overruled him, and d.a.m.ning new excerpts of the papers were published to widening public outrage. They established that the government knowingly lied about the facts of the Gulf of Tonkin incident as a pretext for accelerating the Vietnam War. By the end of the summer of 1971, Ellsberg was on the run from agents of the Nixon government who, allegedly, wanted to silence him.

"I knew Jeremy was sincere, well connected, anti-Vietnam," says Redford, "but it was all very James Bondish. We'd be sitting at the table shuffling the script, and there'd be a noise back there and Jeremy would say, 'Quiet, Dan! Take it easy now.'" These incidents pa.s.sed without further discussion.

Redford's mind was as much on money for the moment as politics. He had earned about $3 million since his career began, and all of it was spent. The best money he had made, for He had earned about $3 million since his career began, and all of it was spent. The best money he had made, for The Hot Rock, The Hot Rock, was quickly absorbed in the various resort maintenance issues at Sundance, which was now more or less entirely his baby. With not much optimism for the box office success of was quickly absorbed in the various resort maintenance issues at Sundance, which was now more or less entirely his baby. With not much optimism for the box office success of The Hot Rock The Hot Rock and low commercial expectations for and low commercial expectations for The Candidate, The Candidate, he knew he had to look more into mainstream films. There were two possibilities in advanced stages, both George Roy Hill projects. One, a movie about Hill's great pa.s.sion for biplanes, had been commissioned from Goldman and was still in the writing. The other, he knew he had to look more into mainstream films. There were two possibilities in advanced stages, both George Roy Hill projects. One, a movie about Hill's great pa.s.sion for biplanes, had been commissioned from Goldman and was still in the writing. The other, The Sting, The Sting, was almost set to go. But after was almost set to go. But after The Candidate The Candidate he was emotionally burned out. He called Hill and said he needed to take a break. Hill was supportive and told him to "go somewhere and forget all this gold mining." he was emotionally burned out. He called Hill and said he needed to take a break. Hill was supportive and told him to "go somewhere and forget all this gold mining."

Redford had one unavoidable obligation: to attend the Cannes screening of Jeremiah Johnson Jeremiah Johnson with Pollack. Disappointed with the fate of this movie in America and the implications of Warners' commitment for the upcoming with Pollack. Disappointed with the fate of this movie in America and the implications of Warners' commitment for the upcoming Candidate Candidate release, he was buoyed by the European enthusiasm. "I went for a vacation, but suddenly Sydney was waylaying me with a new script called release, he was buoyed by the European enthusiasm. "I went for a vacation, but suddenly Sydney was waylaying me with a new script called The Way We Were. The Way We Were."

Redford told Pollack no. "Ray Stark was the man behind it, and I told him it sounded to me like another Ray Stark ego trip. I didn't even want to read it."

"I would not let him off the hook," said Pollack. "I said, 'You've got it wrong. This isn't a fuzzy piece for Barbra Streisand. This is substantial, and-what do you know-it's political. I pressured and pressured him all summer as soon as we got back from Cannes." Getting nowhere, Pollack decided to camp out in the foyer of Wildwood in New York. "It was the process of attrition," said Pollack. "He did it with me on Jeremiah. Jeremiah. It was payback time." It was payback time."

The Way We Were began with Stark, who was looking for a began with Stark, who was looking for a Sound of Music Sound of Musictype vehicle for Streisand. His a.s.sociation with her dated back to Broadway in the early sixties, when he had cast her as f.a.n.n.y Brice in Funny Girl. Funny Girl. In 1968 he produced the movie version, which won Streisand an Academy Award. Stark had, said Pollack, "an ownership thing" about Streisand and, accordingly, envisioned another huge musical film, which he felt she owed him. In 1968 he produced the movie version, which won Streisand an Academy Award. Stark had, said Pollack, "an ownership thing" about Streisand and, accordingly, envisioned another huge musical film, which he felt she owed him.

Stark commissioned an original script from Arthur Laurents, whose career spanned Lux Radio Theater Lux Radio Theater and work with Hitchc.o.c.k on and work with Hitchc.o.c.k on Rope. Rope. But Laurents objected to the "absurd" notion of another musical and came up with the alternative of a romantic parable based on the lives of some of his personal friends caught up in the HUAC-era blacklisting, particularly Frances Price and Jigee Viertel. Laurents subsequently wrote a 125-page essay featuring Katie Morosky, a Marxist agitator at Cornell in the thirties who falls in love with an apolitical novelist, Hubbell Gardner. Stark liked the idea but hated Laurents's suggestion for Sydney Pollack as director. Laurents, impressed by But Laurents objected to the "absurd" notion of another musical and came up with the alternative of a romantic parable based on the lives of some of his personal friends caught up in the HUAC-era blacklisting, particularly Frances Price and Jigee Viertel. Laurents subsequently wrote a 125-page essay featuring Katie Morosky, a Marxist agitator at Cornell in the thirties who falls in love with an apolitical novelist, Hubbell Gardner. Stark liked the idea but hated Laurents's suggestion for Sydney Pollack as director. Laurents, impressed by They Shoot Horses, Don't They?, They Shoot Horses, Don't They?, persisted and won the support of Streisand, who tried to sway Stark. persisted and won the support of Streisand, who tried to sway Stark.

"I was under no illusions," said Pollack. "Barbra was smart. She liked my Sandy Meisner connections because she was ambitious, as an actress, to learn. Same with Jane Fonda on They Shoot Horses. They Shoot Horses. Jane said, 'Thank you, Sydney, because no one ever treats me as an artist. I am never requested to act. Just to "star in."' Barbra wanted to push out, and she saw with Jane said, 'Thank you, Sydney, because no one ever treats me as an artist. I am never requested to act. Just to "star in."' Barbra wanted to push out, and she saw with They Shoot Horses They Shoot Horses that I could handle social issues, that I would give weight to it." Pollack found it hard to contain his enthusiasm for the story concept. "I called Arthur right at the start and said, 'You know what you're proposing here? This is dynamite. This will be the first-ever blacklist movie, the first one to show how it was.'" that I could handle social issues, that I would give weight to it." Pollack found it hard to contain his enthusiasm for the story concept. "I called Arthur right at the start and said, 'You know what you're proposing here? This is dynamite. This will be the first-ever blacklist movie, the first one to show how it was.'"

Pollack's role was still up in the air when the script was handed to Streisand and her lover, Ryan O'Neal, who was offered the role of Hubbell. Around that time, What's Up, Doc?, What's Up, Doc?, a Streisand-O'Neal comedy, opened and failed and, says Laurents, ended the romance between the stars. Stark and Streisand now began talking about Redford as Hubbell. a Streisand-O'Neal comedy, opened and failed and, says Laurents, ended the romance between the stars. Stark and Streisand now began talking about Redford as Hubbell.

Redford, unsurprisingly, supported Pollack. "The truth is," says Redford, "Stark had no affection for This Property Is Condemned, This Property Is Condemned, which he sold to Warners as part of his portfolio, and really dumped. To him, Sydney did not smell good. I pushed. I said, 'If you want to even consider me for which he sold to Warners as part of his portfolio, and really dumped. To him, Sydney did not smell good. I pushed. I said, 'If you want to even consider me for The Way We Were, The Way We Were, it has to be Sydney developing it.' So I made this noose for myself because Stark gave in and suddenly I had an outline written up for me that I hated." It was reported at the time that Redford was unhappy with his role's being secondary to Streisand's Katie. Redford says he was distressed because his part was a symbol, not a character. it has to be Sydney developing it.' So I made this noose for myself because Stark gave in and suddenly I had an outline written up for me that I hated." It was reported at the time that Redford was unhappy with his role's being secondary to Streisand's Katie. Redford says he was distressed because his part was a symbol, not a character.

"What I was really worried about was the whole concept of basing a movie on Barbra as a serious actress," says Redford. "She had never been tested. I told Sydney, 'Her reputation is as a very controlling person. She will direct herself. It'll never work.'" Laurents claims he had difficulty understanding the concerns, since Pollack blocked him from communicating with Redford. Agent Steffie Phillips believed this was "an escalating problem of Sydney's insecurity on top of Redford's insecurity on top of Barbra's inexperience."

In his memoirs Laurents reports his first clash with Pollack at Ray Stark's condo in Sun Valley, Idaho. Pollack donned his usual script doctor's hat, hacking out ideas on his own manual typewriter, a proprietary, authorial posture that set Laurents on edge. Pollack then upset the writer by saying, "You don't know how everybody in Hollywood is amazed by you? Because you've written the best love story in years, and you're a h.o.m.os.e.xual." "What do you say to a man like that?" wondered Laurents. "Do you attack him? Do you attempt to educate him? Or do you just say to yourself, What an a.s.shole!" Pollack's insensitivity tilted the odds against productive partnership, said Laurents, but he hung in.

Pollack saw events differently. Laurents was composing his characters from a diversity of bits, a little of Jigee Viertel, a nuance of someone else. The consequent fragmented psychology made the romantic story line "too unbelievable by half." Worst of all, said Pollack, Laurents had not resolved the political story. "It was about a relationship complicated by HUAC, but those vivid subtexts were lost. It's not that he didn't understand HUAC, but he didn't contextualize it properly. There had to be a kind of education curve for the audience, and Arthur was bad at that."

To fix it, Pollack employed eleven eleven writers, among them Alvin Sargent, Paddy Chayefsky, David Rayfiel and Dalton Trumbo. Offended, Laurents left the production (though he was later rehired). writers, among them Alvin Sargent, Paddy Chayefsky, David Rayfiel and Dalton Trumbo. Offended, Laurents left the production (though he was later rehired).

Trumbo proved to be Pollack's ace in the hole. He was one of the jailed members of HUAC's notorious Hollywood Ten, and his prolificacy was dented by the witch hunt, but he recovered in the sixties, writing screenplays for Exodus, The Sandpiper Exodus, The Sandpiper and and Hawaii. Hawaii. In a detailed correspondence, Trumbo a.n.a.lyzed Laurents's story and suggested alternative real-life ident.i.ties for the characters. He saw one character, Rhea, as a version of Meta Rosenberg, Redford's former agent "who behaved like most informers when called before HUAC: she gave the names of communists she probably did not like, and withheld the names of communists she probably did like, my name among others, though I was in jail when she testified." He saw Hubbell as "a good guy who is trapped by the committee into becoming an informer and thereby destroyed." He could not, however, connect Hubbell with any actual person he knew. Pollack called Trumbo's attention to the actor Sterling Hayden's book In a detailed correspondence, Trumbo a.n.a.lyzed Laurents's story and suggested alternative real-life ident.i.ties for the characters. He saw one character, Rhea, as a version of Meta Rosenberg, Redford's former agent "who behaved like most informers when called before HUAC: she gave the names of communists she probably did not like, and withheld the names of communists she probably did like, my name among others, though I was in jail when she testified." He saw Hubbell as "a good guy who is trapped by the committee into becoming an informer and thereby destroyed." He could not, however, connect Hubbell with any actual person he knew. Pollack called Trumbo's attention to the actor Sterling Hayden's book Wanderer, Wanderer, which dramatized Hayden's guilt over naming names to HUAC: "The reason I have been so hung up on Hayden's book," wrote Pollack, "is that I keep finding tiny character clues within it that seem like starting points for Hubbell. I think the blacklist should be dead center to the drama rather than keeping it to one side. This in turn makes the political material less talky and more dramatic immediately. Secondly, it fulfills the metaphor of Hubbell as America. And, thirdly, it gives him something which dramatized Hayden's guilt over naming names to HUAC: "The reason I have been so hung up on Hayden's book," wrote Pollack, "is that I keep finding tiny character clues within it that seem like starting points for Hubbell. I think the blacklist should be dead center to the drama rather than keeping it to one side. This in turn makes the political material less talky and more dramatic immediately. Secondly, it fulfills the metaphor of Hubbell as America. And, thirdly, it gives him something to do, to do," which had been Redford's concern to begin with.

"I was hung up on Dalton's views," said Pollack, "because I felt that historical veracity was the way to persuade Bob into playing the role. I thought that this was a huge story-a love story, yes, but so much more in the representation of Morosky as the do-or-die Marxist and Hubbell as the jock-novelist who doesn't need doesn't need to face the moral issues but is faced with the demands imposed by love and the compromises that come with love. Stark wasn't as impressed by the HUAC stuff as I was, but we needed it, if only to beef up Hubbell. I did not alter Laurents's story line 'manipulatively,' as Arthur accused. I did it because I had a hunch Bob and Barbra would be magical together, and I knew I had to engage Bob's intelligence." to face the moral issues but is faced with the demands imposed by love and the compromises that come with love. Stark wasn't as impressed by the HUAC stuff as I was, but we needed it, if only to beef up Hubbell. I did not alter Laurents's story line 'manipulatively,' as Arthur accused. I did it because I had a hunch Bob and Barbra would be magical together, and I knew I had to engage Bob's intelligence."

But Pollack's dilemma was that Fox had already indicated its refusal to support a political movie. "So we compromised, and what we had, however diminished, was good. I did know, though, that people were angry with me. Blacklisting was only fifteen years before, and it was fresh in people's memory. People were thinking, At last! Finally, we get a movie that confronts this ghastly thing. And so they wanted more than Fox was prepared to support. But I was signed by Ray Stark to deliver a vehicle for Streisand, and that was the first principle I served. Dealing with Bob was another matter."

Streisand was elated when Redford came aboard. Sue Mengers, another of her agents, sent a confirming two-word cable: "Barbra Redford?" "Barbra was delighted because she had a crush on him," said Pollack, "even before we started. It was hard for women not to have a fixation, because he was everywhere, like Elvis. He was the golden boy long before Hubbell came along."

On September 17, after more than a year's preparation, filming started on The Way We Were. The Way We Were. It had been delayed slightly when Redford, vacationing on Lake Powell with d.i.c.k Cavett, was bitten by a bat and had to endure seventeen days of the famously agonizing stomach injections against rabies. In the first weeks, location work jumped from Union College in Schenectady, New York, to the University of Southern California campus, Marion Davies's Beverly Hills home, Harry Cohen's old Columbia offices and the gated Malibu Colony. All the time, said Pollack, Redford grumbled. "I knew how uncomfortable he was with Hubbell, but I also knew a great persona would emerge. He wasn't cruising, and he responded very well to the prodding I gave, which was a lot." It had been delayed slightly when Redford, vacationing on Lake Powell with d.i.c.k Cavett, was bitten by a bat and had to endure seventeen days of the famously agonizing stomach injections against rabies. In the first weeks, location work jumped from Union College in Schenectady, New York, to the University of Southern California campus, Marion Davies's Beverly Hills home, Harry Cohen's old Columbia offices and the gated Malibu Colony. All the time, said Pollack, Redford grumbled. "I knew how uncomfortable he was with Hubbell, but I also knew a great persona would emerge. He wasn't cruising, and he responded very well to the prodding I gave, which was a lot."

Redford agrees that Pollack pushed him hard: "I give full credit to Sydney. And he did honorably respond to my script concerns. An important last-minute addition came. Alvin Sargent and Rayfiel wrote Hubbell up finally as someone with a point of view. Until then, he was Katie's stooge, the guy who won't either support her Communism or name names."

In a new scene toward the end of the script, Hubbell meets Katie at Union Station at the height of the furor about naming names. Bissinger, the movie director to whom Hubbell is in thrall, pays lip service to the "martyrs" who brought the trouble down on themselves. Hubbell stays silent, but Katie rails against the immoral witch hunt. A riot breaks out, and a fight involving Hubbell, and the police are forced to throw Hubbell and Katie into a waiting room, where lines are finally drawn: KATIE: Doesn't it make you angry listening to Bissinger ridicule those men? Calling them martyrs first because they have guts, which he doesn't, to fight for their principles, to fight for their Bill of Rights, his Bill of Rights, and yours?HUBBELL: Bill of Rights? What Bill of Rights? We don't have any Bill of Rights. We don't have free speech in this country. We never will have.KATIE: We never will if people aren't willing to take a stand for what's right.HUBBELL: We never will because people are scared. This isn't college. This is grown-up politics, and it's stupid and dangerous.KATIE: Hubbell, you are telling me to close my eyes and to watch people being destroyed.HUBBELL: I'm telling you that people are more important than any G.o.dd.a.m.n witch hunt. You and me. Not causes. Not principles.KATIE: Hubbell, people are their principles.

"Hubbell isn't a victim anymore," says Redford. "He's his own man. And that strength gave him a weight in the romance that made the final split with Katie dramatic. The questionable nature of true free speech was a provocative notion, and I attached to that. It also reflected some of the polemic of The Candidate. The Candidate."

Streisand and Redford became close from the outset. "I think we'd both have preferred a more political Dalton Trumbotype script," says Redford. "But finally Sydney came down on the side of the love story. He said, 'This is first and foremost a love affair,' and we conceded that. We trusted his instincts, and he was right. The Way We Were The Way We Were became a success because Sydney controlled the project with his point of view, which was not easy given Ray's behavior and interference." became a success because Sydney controlled the project with his point of view, which was not easy given Ray's behavior and interference."

Word from the set was that Streisand and Redford were igniting extraordinary personal chemistry. An observer on the set saw this as "useful, because it was obvious that Barbra was just too, too crazy about Bob. She had a hard time controlling her emotions, and when she played scenes with him, like the fireside courtship scene at Malibu, she was drooling. But Bob was very tactful."

Streisand looks back on the experience as a high-water mark. "I just loved working with him," she says. "Every day was an exciting adventure. We played well together-in the moment, slightly different, slightly unknowing, always interesting. He's a man of depth who has what it takes to be a great movie star: mystery behind the eyes. You wonder, What is he really really thinking?" Redford in turn found her very attractive. "When we started on thinking?" Redford in turn found her very attractive. "When we started on The Way We Were, The Way We Were, she wanted me she wanted me to be to be Hubbell. That was how she conceived me. And then, as the shoot went on, she saw I was not that man, not in any way. So she reoriented herself, and the professional took over. But afterward I wondered, Did she return to that ba.n.a.l concept of me? Was I-am I-a Hubbell figure in her mind? I never fully sorted that out, and some of that tension made our chemistry on-screen." Hubbell. That was how she conceived me. And then, as the shoot went on, she saw I was not that man, not in any way. So she reoriented herself, and the professional took over. But afterward I wondered, Did she return to that ba.n.a.l concept of me? Was I-am I-a Hubbell figure in her mind? I never fully sorted that out, and some of that tension made our chemistry on-screen."

Pollack dealt with other tensions: "Each of them was a pain in the a.s.s from time to time because they both knew how they liked to be presented; Barbra knew about camera positions and editors' options and all that. So I directed, but they would challenge it. At Malibu, we went on for hours because she had a favorite profile, and I had to play around it to satisfy both."

Redford bit the bullet: "Yes, it was troublesome. I was dancing with her, and I was in my place, doing just fine. But she wasn't dancing; it was awkward. Then Sydney pulled me aside and whispered, 'Come on, man, she's uncomfortable.' Apparently she she had a side she favored, right or left. A discomfort about her nose from one or the other angle. Fine by me. I acknowledge that kind of thing, when it affects that actor's confidence. I said, 'Okay, whatever works.'" had a side she favored, right or left. A discomfort about her nose from one or the other angle. Fine by me. I acknowledge that kind of thing, when it affects that actor's confidence. I said, 'Okay, whatever works.'"

Of no dispute was Redford's utter inability to do the same take twice, a given, Redford admits, with most good actors. "He could not do it," said Pollack. "It made h.e.l.l for me and it made h.e.l.l for the editor to match continuity. Over the years with Bob, I learned to make adjustments. Like running five angles on a scene to cover my a.s.s so that it will cut in the editing. Like not showing my anger when he showed up late, which is normal for him, dishing some bulls.h.i.t excuse. I kept my anger in check until the scene was in the can, till the weekend, when I could say outright, 'You son of a b.i.t.c.h' without messing up his mind for the scenes he needed to play."

But The Way We Were The Way We Were helped engender a deeper mutual respect. Redford had started resentfully. By the end he was laughing. Pollack slapped his back at the finish and said, "Man, that was some hot stuff. You know what this is going to do to your box office?" helped engender a deeper mutual respect. Redford had started resentfully. By the end he was laughing. Pollack slapped his back at the finish and said, "Man, that was some hot stuff. You know what this is going to do to your box office?"

All summer Redford was absorbed with the slow-burning Watergate story. In June 1972 there was the break-in at the Democratic National Committee offices, followed by the launch of a lawsuit by the Democrats against the Republican Committee to Re-elect the President (CREEP). On a promotional junket for The Candidate The Candidate in August he was aware of "a buzz" among the many journalists traveling with him. "There was obviously some big story brewing," he says, "because I kept hearing the words 'Nixon' and 'scandal' and 'burglaries.' I started trying to fit a picture together." Shortly after, for the first time, he became aware of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein's investigative reporting. "I noted their names, and the fact that the story was so bizarre. I thought, This is something beyond a thriller." On October 25, in August he was aware of "a buzz" among the many journalists traveling with him. "There was obviously some big story brewing," he says, "because I kept hearing the words 'Nixon' and 'scandal' and 'burglaries.' I started trying to fit a picture together." Shortly after, for the first time, he became aware of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein's investigative reporting. "I noted their names, and the fact that the story was so bizarre. I thought, This is something beyond a thriller." On October 25, The Washington Post The Washington Post published the first of Woodward and Bernstein's revelatory features, reporting testimony to the grand jury naming Nixon aide Bob Haldeman as the so-far-unnamed fifth person controlling CREEP's political espionage. "That got me," says Redford. "I immediately called Lois Smith [his publicist] and asked her to get in touch with Woodward or Bernstein. I was interested in these guys." published the first of Woodward and Bernstein's revelatory features, reporting testimony to the grand jury naming Nixon aide Bob Haldeman as the so-far-unnamed fifth person controlling CREEP's political espionage. "That got me," says Redford. "I immediately called Lois Smith [his publicist] and asked her to get in touch with Woodward or Bernstein. I was interested in these guys."

In November, as The Way We Were The Way We Were was being filmed, Nixon was re-elected in a landslide. The blow for Redford was softened somewhat by his friend Wayne Owens's congressional victory, but he still felt agitated. "I really hated Nixon. It went back to that 'pinko' incident with Gahagan Douglas. I felt he was a dirty fighter, and we didn't need him in high office." In December, Lois Smith called to say Woodward would meet Redford, not formally, but at a Democratic Party fund-raiser at the Motion Picture a.s.sociation hall in Washington, D.C. was being filmed, Nixon was re-elected in a landslide. The blow for Redford was softened somewhat by his friend Wayne Owens's congressional victory, but he still felt agitated. "I really hated Nixon. It went back to that 'pinko' incident with Gahagan Douglas. I felt he was a dirty fighter, and we didn't need him in high office." In December, Lois Smith called to say Woodward would meet Redford, not formally, but at a Democratic Party fund-raiser at the Motion Picture a.s.sociation hall in Washington, D.C.

The meeting seemed secretive, "with Woodward hiding in the shadows and giving me s.n.a.t.c.hes of information." It emerged that he and Bernstein had a book deal with Simon and Schuster and were about to embark on writing their account of Watergate. "I told him I wasn't interested in any book. But I was interested in them, and in what was unfolding on the national stage. I said, 'There's a movie in this.' He said maybe-maybe he'd be interested in taking that further-and then he disappeared."

The idea of a strategic political follow-up to The Candidate, The Candidate, an a.s.sumption many make about Redford's Watergate project, was not the prime motivation. What appealed, in the first instance, was a commentary on the state of journalism. Not much more than a hundred years before, Th.o.r.eau had queried the essential worth of communication from one village to the next. What is edifying for us to know? The question was lost in the nineteenth century when press objectivity was diluted by advocacy journalism. The selective view, the vested interest, became prominent in American publishing. Radical changes in the twentieth century fundamentally changed the Fourth Estate. Investigative journalism, its worth proved by Ida Tarbell and Upton Sinclair, took precedence throughout the media and made stars of journalists. The emergence of New Journalism, and the literary elevation of news, further complicated the transmission of printed information to a point, Redford believed, where it was often impossible to unravel the value of the "straight news" story. Since Redford himself was being regularly interviewed and evaluated in print, the notion of interpreting the interpreter was very provocative to him. "I was asking, Who were Woodward and Bernstein? What motivated them? Had an a.s.sumption many make about Redford's Watergate project, was not the prime motivation. What appealed, in the first instance, was a commentary on the state of journalism. Not much more than a hundred years before, Th.o.r.eau had queried the essential worth of communication from one village to the next. What is edifying for us to know? The question was lost in the nineteenth century when press objectivity was diluted by advocacy journalism. The selective view, the vested interest, became prominent in American publishing. Radical changes in the twentieth century fundamentally changed the Fourth Estate. Investigative journalism, its worth proved by Ida Tarbell and Upton Sinclair, took precedence throughout the media and made stars of journalists. The emergence of New Journalism, and the literary elevation of news, further complicated the transmission of printed information to a point, Redford believed, where it was often impossible to unravel the value of the "straight news" story. Since Redford himself was being regularly interviewed and evaluated in print, the notion of interpreting the interpreter was very provocative to him. "I was asking, Who were Woodward and Bernstein? What motivated them? Had The Washington Post The Washington Post board decided to take down Nixon? Who was the front-runner here?" board decided to take down Nixon? Who was the front-runner here?"

These issues of anatomizing principles were on his mind as he addressed a dilemma facing Sundance. As part of an incremental growth plan, he had now commissioned an on-site cinema and more recreation annexes. Was it possible to keep extending-indeed, to even hold on to-this vast acreage with only the small income generated by a short ski season and a restaurant with twenty tables? The simple answer was no. His earnings were increasing-he got $400,000 with a 12.5 percent deferred slice of the net profits for The Way We Were The Way We Were-but the money was being gobbled up faster than it came in. "I knew it wasn't sustainable, and I knew my lifestyle was so peripatetic that Sundance often seemed a luxury, but it still boiled down to the question, Am I prepared to see this canyon go to tract house development? And the answer was no." Brent Beck, the resort manager, saw disaster looming in the collision of Redford's possessiveness with business reality. "We, the staff, thought he was crazy. He walked away from more than one potential investor with sound business expansion plans. We thought, How can there be long-term survival without a compromise? Okay, we don't want this to be Disneyland, but we need new investors-fast." Mike Frankfurt saw this as a moment to bow out. "I couldn't keep up," he says. "I was in Manhattan; Bob was mostly in L.A. It made sense that Gary Hendler, who was geographically closer, should fully take over the head contracts and supervise the deals he needed to make with Freddie [Fields] and Steffie [Phillips] to keep the cash flow going. As I saw it, Bob had set his course: he was going to make Hollywood movies to pay for Sundance, and he was going to utilize Sundance primarily as a base for his other operations in independent movies and environmental politicking."

Hurrying for cash, Redford resumed the work in planning his next movie, which was now many months late, with George Roy Hill. The Sting, The Sting, their new project, is a film with a history almost as convoluted as its plot. It had started in October 1970, when David Ward, a young writer contracted to actor-producer Tony Bill, taped a ten-minute synopsis of an original concept inspired by the writings of Nelson Algren. Bill sent the tape to Redford, who liked it and arranged a three-way meeting in New York. Ward admits he was "kind of surprised by Tony's choice of Redford, because the part of Hooker, the con man around whom the plot resolves, I had in mind for a young guy. But I was immensely impressed by this new notion of the wily Sundance Kid playing the very wily Hooker." Ward had written just one movie for Tony Bill-the critically, if not financially, successful their new project, is a film with a history almost as convoluted as its plot. It had started in October 1970, when David Ward, a young writer contracted to actor-producer Tony Bill, taped a ten-minute synopsis of an original concept inspired by the writings of Nelson Algren. Bill sent the tape to Redford, who liked it and arranged a three-way meeting in New York. Ward admits he was "kind of surprised by Tony's choice of Redford, because the part of Hooker, the con man around whom the plot resolves, I had in mind for a young guy. But I was immensely impressed by this new notion of the wily Sundance Kid playing the very wily Hooker." Ward had written just one movie for Tony Bill-the critically, if not financially, successful Steelyard Blues- Steelyard Blues-and had, he says, a desire to do something in his favorite territory, "among the lowlifes of Algren and Steinbeck and in the era when you could best idealize criminal life, which was the twenties." At the meeting, Redford was encouraging, says Ward, but unwilling to commit. The story, though, he liked. It was about two fast-talking Prohibition hustlers, Hooker and Gondorff, who scam and double-scam with the objective of taking down a murderous thug. Already tagged to play Gondorff was Peter Boyle. "I liked Ward," says Redford. "But he was very inexperienced, and I wasn't even sure I had a place in this. I told him, 'Do a great script, and I'll see what I can do to support you.'"

Ward worked in the converted garage of his rented Topanga Canyon home, writing with a pencil on a yellow legal pad. He produced several drafts over twelve months before submitting a final one to Redford. Hill, who had been drawn in by Tony Bill, also received the script. Hill liked it immediately. "But I felt he'd made a mistake in the tenor of the dialogue," said Hill. "It was too modern, not at all of the period, and that was its weakness. But, that said, David presented a fantastic script. It was so intricate that it needed no input from anyone, just dialogue adjustments." The attraction for Hill was the stun-the-audience twist at the end and, even more, the evocation of the bygone era. "Period was my soft spot," said Hill. "Nothing beats historical scene setting. That was what I liked about Hawaii, Hawaii, what I liked about what I liked about Butch Ca.s.sidy. Butch Ca.s.sidy. I used every trick and technology available to get the audience in. When I read I used every trick and technology available to get the audience in. When I read The Sting, The Sting, I imagined that old Universal art deco logo and sepia faces and Model Ts." I imagined that old Universal art deco logo and sepia faces and Model Ts."

While Redford was absorbed on The Way We Were, The Way We Were, Hill met with Tony Bill and his partners, Michael and Julia Phillips, made a deal and took the project to Richard Zanuck, who was now producing independently with David Brown. It was Zanuck and Brown, finally, who sealed the production with Universal. For Ward, the only moment of hesitation was when Dan Melnick, a former drama executive at ABC, suggested they cut loose from Hill and Zanuck to make the movie themselves, with Ward directing. "In the end," says Ward, "I knew I would be selling a great story short. The option was either a very-low-budget movie directed by me or the blockbuster directed by George. It was a no-brainer." Hill met with Tony Bill and his partners, Michael and Julia Phillips, made a deal and took the project to Richard Zanuck, who was now producing independently with David Brown. It was Zanuck and Brown, finally, who sealed the production with Universal. For Ward, the only moment of hesitation was when Dan Melnick, a former drama executive at ABC, suggested they cut loose from Hill and Zanuck to make the movie themselves, with Ward directing. "In the end," says Ward, "I knew I would be selling a great story short. The option was either a very-low-budget movie directed by me or the blockbuster directed by George. It was a no-brainer."

When Hill called Redford to tell him of the great new script he'd found, Redford laughed. He had already read it, and approved. "But the truth is, I didn't see it as the ma.s.sive project it became. I saw it as a modest, tricky little thing," says Redford. Then Hill told Redford he wanted Paul Newman for the role of Gondorff. "I was surprised," says Redford, "because Peter Boyle was already there. So I said, 'Okay, I trust you. I love Paul, and if the studio will go with him ...?'" The problem, however, was that for Universal, Newman's star was on the wane. This shocked, then amused, Redford and Hill. For seven years through the sixties Newman had ranked in the top ten of box office earners. He had been nominated four times for an Academy Award. He had won a British Academy Award, for The Hustler The Hustler in 1961, and a New York Film Critics Circle best director award for in 1961, and a New York Film Critics Circle best director award for Rachel, Rachel, Rachel, Rachel, made just before made just before Butch Ca.s.sidy. Butch Ca.s.sidy. Hill thought the situation laughable. Freddie Fields called to propose a resolution: Redford was being offered $500,000, with 15 percent of the gross. Newman was being offered a fee, but with no points-a proposal he immediately refused. The only way Newman could be fit into the deal, said Fields, was if Redford conceded his percentage points to him. Redford was unhappy. "But I felt obligated to Paul, for what he had done in supporting me at the start of my career. I gave in. Paul got my points, and that turned into a considerable fortune of earnings, millions and millions of dollars. I told him later that it p.i.s.sed me off, but I forgave him." Hill thought the situation laughable. Freddie Fields called to propose a resolution: Redford was being offered $500,000, with 15 percent of the gross. Newman was being offered a fee, but with no points-a proposal he immediately refused. The only way Newman could be fit into the deal, said Fields, was if Redford conceded his percentage points to him. Redford was unhappy. "But I felt obligated to Paul, for what he had done in supporting me at the start of my career. I gave in. Paul got my points, and that turned into a considerable fortune of earnings, millions and millions of dollars. I told him later that it p.i.s.sed me off, but I forgave him."

In Ward's story, Hooker steals illegal gambling money from Illinois mobster Doyle Lonnegan, who kills Hooker's partner and issues a death warrant. Hooker flees to Chicago, where he schemes with Gondorff, a friend of Hooker's dead partner, to lure Lonnegan to town and fleece him in a racetrack scam. When the Feds close in, it appears that the con will be curtailed, but Hooker and Gondorff conspire with the Feds to round off a coup.

For Newman all this was "just brilliant, really the best twist I'd ever