Acting in Film

which gave me the opportunity for a very funny scene. It couldn't have happened if I had been told to stick to the script.

    Movie scripts are not Holy Writ. As if to prove its fallibility, the director, on the first day on the set of The Ipcress File, put the script on the floor, set fire to it, and said, "That's what I think of that." We all stood there looking at each other. I was a bit baffled. "What are we going to shoot?" I said. In the end, the director used my copy. But I was allowed to improvise a lot. My favorite scene was a sequence in which I was shopping in the supermarket while talking to the "M" character, the secret service boss. The director tossed us a few guidelines and off we went-three minutes of ad-libbed dialogue.

    1979 Warner Bros Inc.
    BEYOND THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE
    Directed by Irwin Allen. Warner Brothers, 1979.
    Pictured with Karl Malden.

    Sometimes you wind up initiating changes yourself, without the director's urging. In A Bridge Too Par, I had the luck to be standing next to the man I was actually playing, Lieutenant Colonel Joe Vandeleur, just before I had to order a column of tanks and armored cars into battle. I had always thought that my scripted line, "Forward, go, charge," didn't have an authentic ring, so I asked him what he actually said on the day of the battle. He said, "I just said quietly into the microphone, `Well, get a move on, then."' And that's the line I spoke. I felt much more secure as the actor knowing that the character's line had been tested in battle.
    Improvisation can work extremely well if the atmosphere is relaxed and you are in tune with your character. Of course, you shouldn't get creative with the script unless you know you can really improve on what's already there on the page. I did a picture called California Suite, which was written by the great American comedy writer Neil Simon. He visited the set the first day, came over to Maggie Smith and me and said, "Listen, if you think of anything funny, you know, ad libs, put 'em in. But tell me what they are first. And they better be funnier than what I've written." We thought and we thought. Our poetic license hung heavy on our conscience. And needless to say, we never ad-libbed a word.
    Even if the director doesn't edit the film himself, he certainly has the final say over the final cut. The editing can alter the pacing and rhythms of performance-in fact that's what it's for. It not only orchestrates line delivery, it determines how you are emphasized; whether you are in close-up or part of a group. Editing can shape a lot of your performance, and a career can be made or lost by editing. The worst fate, of course, is to be cut out altogether, unless your performance was so bad you're lucky no one will ever see it. Yet even a very good performance may have to go if it adds superfluous elements to a film where they're looking for time cuts. On the other hand, a mediocre performance can be given a shot in the arm by skilled editing-the pacing can be finessed and clumsy moments can be contracted or eliminated. Cutting away to a strong reaction shot on your slightly misplayed line can give the impression that you delivered it far more effectively than you actually did.

    I feel about editors the way I do about directors: they know their jobs. You and I are betting that their decisions are right for the film as a whole and that ultimately what's good for the movie is good for us. Recently I dubbed a film called Without a Clue and had the chance to see the edited version. There had been a sword fight in the picture, and when I saw the fight on the screen, I said, "You've cut out the funniest moment in the whole film-a slow reaction I did during the fight." The editor said, "I know. You're right. It would have been the funniest moment in the film, but that reaction took five seconds. The scene is at the end of the film, when all the momentum should be gathering. We can't afford to take that much time out of the action however wonderful that isolated moment is. You can't slow things down at the end of a comedy." He ran the sword fight back to show me where my reaction would have been, and he was right. I was sorry to lose that moment, but clearly it had to go. Editors know their business and, honestly, I've never once thought, "Well, if they'd left that moment in the film, I'd have got an Oscar."

    But regardless of how good the editing is, no one relies on the editing room to get them out of trouble. Directors