A great
hangout movie is hard to do well. You have to have a cast of memorable
characters brought vividly to life by actors with quotable dialogue. All of
these elements are crucial because they often distract from the fact that most
hangout movies are about nothing and by that I mean they are largely plotless.
The godfather of the genre is George Lucas’ American
Graffiti (1973), which followed a bunch of teenagers driving around in cars
and goofing off. It featured a cast of then unknown actors, some of whom would
go on to be big-time movie stars (Harrison Ford). It also had a fantastic
soundtrack of vintage 1950s rock ‘n’ roll music. This film established a
template that many others would follow – most notably Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused (1993) and Superbad (2007).
Another
great and hugely influential hangout movie is Barry Levinson’s Diner (1982), which was the first of his
four “Baltimore Films.” This semi-autobiographical film depicts the reunion of
six twentysomethings during the last week of 1959 for the upcoming wedding of
one of their own with much of the action taking place at a local diner. It not
only marked the directorial debut of Levinson (who also wrote the screenplay)
but also featured an incredible cast of then up-and-coming actors: Steve Guttenberg, Daniel Stern, Mickey Rourke, Kevin Bacon, and feature film debuts
of Tim Daly, Ellen Barkin and Paul Reiser. The success of Diner would help launch their careers as well as that of
Levinson’s.
Instead
of adhering to a traditional narrative, Diner
is comprised of a series of vignettes. We meet Modell (Reiser) at a local dance
as he tells Robert “Boogie” Sheftell (Rourke) that Timothy “Fen” Fenwick
(Bacon) is breaking windows in the basement of the building. We learn that Fen
does crazy things as a goof and that Boogie is a smooth talker with the ladies,
convincing Fen’s date to go back with him even though he ditched her. As they
leave the dance for a local diner, Levinson introduces the funny, observational
humor that comes out of Modell’s mouth when he tells Boogie, “You know what
word I’m not comfortable with? Nuance. It’s not really a word. Gesture is a
good word. At least you know where you stand with gesture.”
We are
introduced to the pivotal location of the diner as Eddie Simmons (Guttenberg)
argues that Frank Sinatra is better than Johnny Mathis because the former is
better in every respect and this leads to a hilarious bit where Modell asks
Eddie for the last half of his roast beef sandwich much to the latter’s
chagrin. It is so funny to see Modell intentionally wind up Eddie only to feign
innocence when his friend tries to call him on it. There’s a loose, spontaneous
feel to this scene and Levinson even keeps in Kevin Bacon’s reaction to Eddie
and Modell’s bickering. His laughter looks genuine – an unguarded moment of the
actor breaking character.
The way
the actors interact with each other suggests that these characters have been
friends for most of their lives in the way they speak to each other. There is a
familiarity and a short-hand that is believable. One imagines that they’ve had
this same argument a hundred times before. The diner scene also establishes
Boogie’s mounting gambling debt and his schemes to get inside information for
his next bet while settling the Mathis/Sinatra debate by stating that Elvis
Presley is better than both of them.
These
guys still have a lot of growing up to do, like Boogie’s ever-increasing
gambling debts or Eddie still living at home, driving his mother crazy, or
Fen’s childish pranks, even going so far as to fake a bloody car accident. Only
Laurence “Shrevie” Schreiber (Stern) is married but he’s hardly the epitome of
maturity, obsessively collecting 45s and cruelly chastising his wife Beth
(Barkin) for failing to understand his organizational system. In addition, Shrevie
can’t tell Eddie if he’s happily married or not. He tries to articulate it in
terms of having sex with his wife. Before they were married they talked a lot
about it and spent time planning when to have it and then once they were
married they talked about it less because it wasn’t a big of an issue. It
basically boils down to not having much in common with her as he tells Eddie,
“You know, I can come down here, we can bullshit the whole night away but I
cannot hold a five minute conversation with Beth.” Male friendship is the most
important thing in these guys’ lives and this is symbolized by the diner
because it is the place where they get together regularly. Only William “Billy”
Howard (Daly) seems to have any kind of maturity and this is a result of going
to college and removing himself from his circle of immature friends.
The
cast is uniformly excellent with Paul Reiser getting the bulk of the film’s
funny, quotable dialogue. Tim Daly has the lion’s share of the film’s dramatic
scenes as Billy reunites with an ex-girlfriend (Kathryn Dowling) and she tells
him about being pregnant with his child. Over the course of the film Billy
wrestles with the dilemma of what to do about it. The good-looking Mickey
Rourke is well-cast as a persuasive Lothario. He’s always scheming, whether
it’s placing sports bets or making moves on beautiful women. Fen is the black
sheep of his family, dropping out of school, refusing to work and living off
his trust fund. Kevin Bacon hints at a checkered family past and this is what
fuels Fen’s unpredictable behavior. So long as he lives off a trust fund he
will never grow up. The actor does a good job of portraying the prankster side
of Fen and also the more troubling aspects as well.
Levinson
doesn’t shy away from how badly women were treated back then, from Boogie’s
womanizing tendencies to Eddie forcing his fiancée to take a quiz about
football and his favorite team, the Baltimore Colts, which she must pass before
he will marry her. The most troubling example of this behavior is how badly
Shrevie treats Beth. He’s an obsessive record collector and freaks out at her
inability to adhere to his organizational system. She is a casual music
listener while it is very important to him. She can’t understand this and he doesn’t
understand why she doesn’t appreciate it more. He has a very personal
connection to music that she doesn’t but this argument is symptomatic of a
larger problem – they don’t have much in common.
Levinson
immerses us in the sights and sounds of the diner with insert shots of clean
plates being stacked and ketchup bottles being refilled. There is also the
fantastic attention to period detail, from the vintage cars to the occasional
slang that the characters say to what they wear to the period music (a killer
soundtrack featuring the likes of Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins among
others). He also fills in the margins of the film with amusing bits like the
guy who eats the entire left side of the diner’s menu causing Modell to quip,
“It’s not human. He’s not a person. He’s like a building with feet.” There’s
the guy who obsessively quotes dialogue from Sweet Smell of Success (1957). It is these moments that help flesh
out this world and make it more real, more tangible, transporting us to ‘50s
era Baltimore.
Barry
Levinson worked on the Mel Brooks comedy High
Anxiety (1977) and used to tell the filmmaker Diner-esque stories about growing up in Baltimore. Brooks told
Levinson, “You should write that as a screenplay,” but he couldn’t figure out
how to do it. Levinson went on to write several scripts with ex-wife Valerie
Curtin and during a period where she was acting in a film he started writing Diner. It took him three weeks and
during that time he figured out the framework – it takes place over a five-day
period – and that it was “all about male-female relationships, lack of
relationship, lack of communication.” He frequented the Hilltop Diner in
Northwest Baltimore and some of the conversations in the film, like the Mathis
or Sinatra debate, came out of actual conversations he had. In addition, the
six guys in the film were composites of friends and family and things they did
and said.
Producer
Mark Johnson met Levinson on High Anxiety
and originally they were going to work together on Toys (1992), which they made years later, but it didn’t happen.
Johnson went on to work for producer Jerry Weintraub at MGM while Levinson
wrote Diner. When he read the script
he loved it and wanted to make it. Johnson gave Levinson’s script to Weintraub
who set it up almost immediately at MGM. At the time, the studio had several
other larger budget movies and because the one for Diner was so low ($5 million), he was left alone, able to shoot on
location in Baltimore, and cast relatively unknown actors in the lead roles.
When it
came to casting the film Levinson saw around 600 guys. Kevin Bacon had just
quite television soap opera Guiding Light
when he got the call to audition for Diner.
He originally read for Billy and Boogie. He met with Levinson who asked him to
read for Fenwick, a character the actor had difficulty relating to. When he
came back to audition, he was quite sick with a 103 degree fever. “I had a
kinda slowed down and out-of-it quality, just based on the illness, that sorta
worked for the character.” He ended up using that approach in the film.
Tim
Daly auditioned in New York and read for Levinson who liked him. The actor came
back repeatedly and read as well as doing a couple of screen tests. The studio
wanted another actor but that person didn’t want to do the film and Levinson
liked Daly and cast him as Billy. Paul Reiser came in with a friend and had no
intention of auditioning. The casting director saw him and thought he’d be good
in the film and told Levinson who met him the next day and cast the Reiser. Levinson
purposely under-wrote Modell because he knew that if he “put in more
stream-of-consciousness stuff, I’d have gotten some resistance [from the
studio].”
Levinson
only saw one person for the role of Beth and that was Ellen Barkin. The studio
didn’t want her because they felt that she wasn’t pretty enough. The filmmaker
lied his way into casting Barkin anyway. According to the actress, her
on-screen relationship with Daniel Stern mirrored their off-screen one: “We’ve
since made amends to each other, but it was a little difficult.”
Levinson
remembers that they shot the film mostly at night and this resulted in keeping
an unusual schedule: “Coming back, daylight is coming up and you’re coming back
to the hotel to go to sleep at the Holiday Inn. Everybody else is getting up to
go to work.” One of the biggest challenges was finding the diner. He wanted to
use the Double-T Diner but they wanted too much money. Fortunately, Johnson
found one in a diner graveyard in New Jersey. They transported it on a flatbed
truck and placed it where they wanted it, which was Fells Point.
Levinson
shot all the diner scenes last so that the cast would have time to bond and
“draw on the rapport they’d developed over seven weeks. By that time they had
their edges, little things that bothered them about each other, and those
unspoken tensions enriched the movie,” the filmmaker said at the time. This
method paid off. Steve Guttenberg and Mickey Rourke became good friends during
filming and at one point they told Levinson they wanted to do a scene together
because they didn’t have one. The filmmaker went back to his trailer and a few
minutes later came out with a scene where Eddie talks about being a virgin.
They went ahead and filmed it that day.
Reiser
was Levinson’s secret weapon and he allowed the comedian to improvise dialogue.
For example, during the “nuance” scene, Reiser remembers Levinson telling him,
“’You’re bothered by the word ‘nuance.’’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ He said,
‘I don’t know, it’s a strange word, just play with it.’” The “roast beef
sandwich” scene was also completely ad-libbed and came out of the actors
talking in-between takes, eating whatever they wanted.
During
post-production, MGM executive David Chasman wanted Levinson to cut the roast
beef sandwich scene from the film but the director refused because he “wanted
the piece to be without any flourish, without anything other than basically
saying, ‘This is all it was.’” The studio wanted a sex comedy like Porky’s (1981) and didn’t like what
Levinson had done. As Johnson recalls, “They didn’t know what to make of it.” When
it came to test screenings, audiences in Levinson’s hometown of Baltimore hated
the film and even the local newspaper The
Baltimore Sun gave it a negative review. It didn’t help that the studio
advertised the film by putting an emphasis on the soundtrack of classic rock
‘n’ roll music (perhaps trying to ape what American
Graffiti had done) but this did not appeal to test audiences. Levinson was
not happy with this approach: “They were expecting Grease and they didn’t get it.”
MGM was
hesitant to release Diner and didn’t
set a date. One of Johnson’s mother’s best friends was influential film critic
Pauline Kael. He snuck a print out and showed it to her. She loved it and
called the studio telling them, “You guys are about to have a lot of egg on
your face because I’m about to give this movie a rave review and it’s not going
to be available.” The studio finally released it in one theater in Manhattan.
Diner started getting strong reviews and in each
city the film played it broke house records but, according to Levinson, “it
never went wide because they never had any belief that it could play to a
broader audience.” Pauline Kael wrote, “It isn’t remarkable
visually but it features some of the best young actors in the country.” Roger
Ebert gave the film three-and-a-half out of four stars and wrote, “Diner is often a very funny movie,
although I laughed most freely not at the sexual pranks but at the movie's
accurate ear, as it reproduced dialogue with great comic accuracy.” The New York Times’ Janet Maslin wrote,
“These characters are individually well drawn, and they're played beautifully.
Mr. Levinson has found a first-rate cast, most of them unknown but few to be
unknown for long.” In his review for Newsweek
magazine, David Ansen wrote, “But while seeming to traverse familiar ground,
Levinson and his superb young cast are sprinkling it with sparkling insights.”
The Globe and Mail’s Jay Scott wrote,
“Rhythmically, Diner is uneven. The
strong opening gives way to a somewhat lassitudinous half hour but, when the
pace does pick up, it never wobbles – the film works slowly, but surely.”
However, in his review for the Washington
Post, Gary Arnold felt it was “an oddly disappointing nice try.”
Diner failed to connect with audiences and quietly
began disappearing from theaters. MGM was prepared to write it off but then
strong reviews from influential New York critics gave it a second lease on
life. The studio realized that they could possibly make money off the film and
re-released it in seven theaters where it managed to gross approximately $1
million. The New York Times ran a
favorable review and followed it up with an in-depth article on Levinson and
the film, which generated word-of-mouth business.
Levinson
does a nice job of juggling each character’s storyline, whether it’s Boogie’s
gambling problems, Eddie getting ready for his wedding, or Fen’s increasing
erratic behavior, and having them all dovetail nicely by the film’s conclusion.
They’re not all entirely resolved but that’s the point: life’s problems are not
easily solved within the confines of a film and one imagines these characters
dealing with the fallout of the events depicted in Diner long after it ends.
The six
guys in Diner come across as
fully-fleshed out characters (with perhaps the exception of Modell) with rich
backstories that are only hinted at and this adds to their authenticity and how
the actors portray them that invites repeated viewings. This is why Levinson’s
film still holds up after all these years. Diner
feels like a very personal film and this is due in large part to all the
personal touches and little details that populate it.
Diner is about a group of young men still acting
like boys. They are on the cusp of being adults and either make the transition
willingly or are forced to through marriage. The film depicts this transitional
period in their lives when they have one foot in adolescence and one in
adulthood. It is a film about male friendship and examines the dynamic between
these six guys and why it is more important than their relationships with
girlfriends and wives. Diner excels
at presenting memorable characters that are funny and real, dealing with real
problems. The film is full of quotable dialogue but also deals with serious
issues that aren’t glossed over and aren’t all resolved by the end credits.
SOURCES
Farber,
Stephen. “He Drew From His Boyhood to Make Diner.”
The New York Times. April 18, 1982.
Harris,
Will. “Ellen Barkin on Great Directors and Her Favorite Roles, from Diner to Buckaroo Banzai.” The A.V. Club. August 15, 2014.
Harris,
Will. “Tim Daly on Madam Secretary,
Voicing Superman, and Killing Stephen Weber.” The A.V. Club. September
19, 2014.
Price,
S.L. “Much Ado About Nothing.” Vanity Fair. March 2012.
Serpick,
Evan. “Diner: An Oral History.” Baltimore
Magazine. April 2012.
Williams,
Christian. “The Diner Opens.” Washington
Post. May 14, 1982.
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