10,000 Violent Women and One Screenwriter, Part VI
by Robert J. Avrech
Hope Emerson, “Caged” 1950
Note: Links to previous chapters can be found at the end of this post.
EXT. PRISON YARD – DAY
The Screenwriter and the Corrections Officer are chatting about the list of prison movies Robert has promised to compile. Screenwriter and C.O. share a companionable relationship that is occasionally rattled by Cindy’s insatiable curiosity about her visitor’s private life.
“Okay Cindy, you ready?”
“Lay it on me.”
“My Ten Favorite Prison Movies.”
I’ve been hired to write a film, Within These Walls, for Lifetime Network about the prison pet program. Cindy has been my guide, babysitter, bodyguard, my eyes into this hellish world.
My job is to dig into these people’s lives, but it’s a one-way relationship. I have learned, through years of experience and several awkward stumbles, that I must withdraw a central portion of myself in order to be effective. The true me has to remain locked away, or it will be used in the power struggle that exists between author and subject.
And so yours truly, the Orthodox Jew, is gone. Robert, adoring husband to Karen and doting father to three children, is locked away.
It is a disorienting experience.
Casually, I deflect almost all personal questions, answering in the most evasive manner, hopefully without insulting Cindy.
Let’s take a look at several typical exchanges:
Cindy
“So, Robert, you married?”
Robert
“What do you think?”
Cindy
“I think you’re wearing a gold band.”
Robert
“Detective Cindy.”
Cindy
“How long you married?”
Robert
“C’mon…”
Cindy
“Maybe you’re really a homo?”
Robert
“No!”
Cindy aims her index finger at me, squeezes an invisible trigger.
Cindy
“Gotcha.”
I can’t help but chuckle. C.O. Cindy is smart and quick, and unlike so many women—the over-educated and over-bred—she understands the vast gulf that separates male and female nature.
CUT TO:
Cindy
“So, what’s Mrs. Robert do? Is she like pretty or some brainy bow-wow?”
I remain tight-lipped.
Cindy barks: “Woof-woof.”
My inner resolve collapses.
Robert
“She’s brainy and beautiful.”
Cindy nails me with a cool, level gaze. It’s the look she uses to intimidate “the skanks.”
And:
Cindy
“You a Jew?”
INTERTITLE: Oy-vey!
Robert
“Why do you ask?”
Cindy
“Y’know, Hollywood… Jews.”
I would so love to continue this conversation, explore Cindy’s mind-set, but:
Robert
“What do you think?”
Cindy
“I think, yeah.”
Robert
“And if I am Jewish?”
Cindy gives an exaggerated shrug of the shoulders.
DISSOLVE TO:
Cindy
“Robert, are you like this important screenplaywriter?”
Robert
“Cindy, you ever hear the story of the Polish actress?”
Cindy
“Uh, I have the feeling I’m about to.”
Robert
“She slept with the screenwriter.”
Cindy hesitates a second, then cracks up. It’s the oldest, dumbest joke in Hollywood, but it spreads through the entire prison like a virus. And before I know, an inmate repeats it to me.
After a while, Cindy gives up trying to know who I am. Sorta.
Instead of personal information, I substitute Hollywood gossip and legend.
Which does the job just fine. For everyone is fascinated by Hollywood. Even a tough little corrections officer like Cindy.
“Robert, do you know — ?”
She names a female star.
“I do.”
“What’s she like?”
“She’d absolutely kill to have your complexion.”
Cindy blushes.
And the thing is, it’s the absolute truth.
Okay, I’m hanging loose, giving Cindy my list of ten favorite prison movies. It’s a tactic really, a way of creating the illusion of intimacy without the emotional risks.
Not so simple because I like Cindy. Enormously. Guilt weighs heavily on my conscience for deploying such a cold blooded strategy.
“Understand Cindy, I’m mixing genres.”
“Genres?”
“Types of prison films. You’ve got prison dramas, prison action films, you’ve got prison comedies, prison musicals, escape films, riot films, prison war films, and that most durable of all genres: women in prison flicks.”
“Women in prison, coolness.”
“In no particular order, okay?”
“Go on, you’re such a fuss-pot.”
“Number One: The Big House, 1930, with Chester Morris, Wallace Beery, and the lovely Leila Hyams. The big daddy of all prison movies. This was probably the first big studio movie to make the genre respectable and profitable. Inmate falls in love with his cellmate’s sister, gets caught up in an escape plan sure to go bad. Drama ensues. It’s a bit slow for modern audiences, but it’s a keeper.
“Number Two: I am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, 1932, starring the great Paul Muni. This guy suffers for like ten-years in the most brutal southern prison you have ever seen. Unrelenting and grim. Hollywood used to do grim really well.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
Burt Lancaster as The Birdman of Alcatraz
“Number Three: The Bird Man of Alcatraz, 1962 with Burt Lancaster. This is a movie you should show here. The prisoner, a cold blooded murderer, redeems his soul by taking care of birds.”
“Birds.”
“Tweet-tweet.”
Cindy shakes her head as if to say, some things are just too dumb to be believed.
“Number Four: The Great Escape, 1963, with Steve McQueen, a crackerjack World War II escape movie. McQueen has a great scene where he tries to jump barbed wire on a motorcycle.”
“I drive a Harley.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Want a ride?”
“Nope.”
“Pu-ssy.”
“Number Five: Cool Hand Luke, 1967 with the young and handsome Paul Newman. This film has the single greatest line of dialogue ever in a prison movie: ‘What we’ve got he-are, is a fa-ail-ure to commu-ni-cate.’”
Cindy’s face brightens:
“My Uncle Chris used to say that all the time, a few beers and he’d be like totally hammered, walking around saying it over and over again. I thought he made it up. It’s from a movie?”
“A great movie.”
Cindy heaves a sigh. I’m pretty sure I have just diminished her life by a small but significant degree.
“Number Six: Stalag 17, 1953, another great prison war movie, starring William Holden, directed by the great Billy Wilder. Beautiful structure. Machine gun dialogue. Dark humor. An exquisite machine.
“Number Seven: Papillon, 1973, Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman are prisoners on a Devil’s Island run by, get this, the French. Horrifying stuff happens. Things get so bad Dustin and McQueen eat cockroaches. This one’s got everything, starvation, escape, capture, torture, leper colonies. Hugely entertaining.”
“The French?”
“It’s in English, trust me, fun film.”
“You ever meet Dustin Hoffman?”
“Yup.”
“What’s he really like?”
“Really short.”
“You are sooo funny.”
“Number Eight: Oh this is a good one, Chained Heat, 1983.”
“Linda Blair. The broom stick scene. Jesus, we all know that one.”
“A true women in prison classic.”
Cindy smiles hugely. Finally, a film Cindy recognizes.
“Number Nine: Caged, 1950, the spiritual godmother of all sleazy women in prison flicks.”
“Listen to you, all like movie professor.”
“Guilty. A beautiful young bride is thrown into prison.”
“Oh, yeah, we got a lot of those, beautiful young brides.”
“And the C.O.’s I gotta tell you, are just sadistic beyond words. Sadistic and like totally lesbo.”
Cindy, all ironic. “Yeah, there’s a lot of that goin’ around.”
“They shave her head, take away her pet pussycat. Great performance by the underrated Eleanor Parker. Unbelievably dark and depressing. She gives birth in prison, her baby is taken away and put up for adoption. She turns into a hardened criminal.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Number Ten: I’ve saved the best for last. Drum roll please: Caged Heat, 1974, the very best women in prison movie evuh. Produced by the great Roger Corman, and directed by none other than Jonathan Demme. I think it was his first film. Probably made for about fifty thousand dollars. Which only goes to show that it’s not money that makes a good film but vision. Great sleazo film with all this socially conscious nonsense on top of the obligatory nudity. Riveting.”
Cindy just stares at me for a long moment.
“So, what else do you want to know, Mr. Screenplaywriter?”
“How come you’re a C.O?”
“For Chrissake, Robert, I’m a f*****g townie.”
“Ever think of doing something else?”
“I was thinking of being a glamorous movie star, but that s**t seemed kinda out of my reach, y’know? How’d you get to be a screenplaywriter?”
I owe Cindy this truth:
“Worked hard, never gave up, got lucky.”
“Your family rich, Robert?”
“Being with these women day in day out, how does it make you feel?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
This is killing me. But I’m not going to give in to temptation and tell her that my father is an Orthodox Rabbi, that I’m from Brooklyn where my family lived a modest, middle class life; that a Hollywood career was a mad dream that, against all odds, I have managed to achieve.
“How does it affect you, this work?”
Cindy shrugs. “It’s work, a paycheck. No big deal.”
“Really.”
“Hey, you know, I ain’t all that different than these skanks.”
“How do you mean?”
“I have done time with loser trolls who I felt like killing. I just, y’know, didn’t.”
“There’s a big difference.Thinking is not doing.”
Cindy hooks her index finger into her mouth, yanks back her cheek. There’s a black space where a tooth should be.
“My last lover boy.”
“What’d you do?”
“Pow. Right back at him.”
Long silence.
“Hey, Robert, don’t look so f*****g sad. I’m home.”
Home. It’s what the inmates call prison.
C.O. Cindy and I make our way back to the dog training shed. Just as we reach the door I turn to her.
“Remember that book I told you about?”
“That Chinese thing?”
“The Art of War, yeah. Sun Tzu says something else, something that’s always stayed with me.”
“Go on, my friend.”
“He says that even the finest sword plunged into salt water will eventually rust.”
Cindy ponders this a long moment.
“You think I’m like this fine sword, Robert?”
“I do, Cindy, I really do.”
Demurely, C.O. Cindy smiles.
Priscilla Bonner, The Red Kimono, 1925.
Stay tuned for next week’s concluding chapter in which yours truly bids goodbye to the amiable Cindy and the 10,000 violent but surprisingly well behaved inmates.
To read Part I, please click here.
To read Part II, please click here.
To read Part III, please click here.
To read part IV, please click here.
To read Part V, please click here.
To order a copy of the film, Within These Walls, starring Ellen Burstyn and Laura Dern, please click here.
Copyright © Robert J. Avrech
Email this to a friend | Print |
Share on Facebook
| Tweet this
| 
Follow Us on Twitter
Subscribe via RSS
Tips & Feedback
42 Comments
This gets more and more compelling every time. Well done indeed, sir.
I LOVE THESE.
Some others worth mentioning: White Heat,- don't know if counts as a prison movie, but it's fun to watch Cagney lose it in the prison mess hall when he earns his mother (who was also Alvin York's mother) has died. The Glass House- I saw this on TV as a teen and it scared me straight in every sense of the word. I'll mention Shawshank by saying I'm not going to mention Shawshank. Stir Crazy -with Wilder and Pryor. It's fun to recognize famous actors in small roles when you rewatch a movie this old.
Never thought of prison films as a separate category… I would most definitely put 'The Great Escape' as number one on my list because of absolute triumph of human spirit. Millions have seen it, and it is remembered fondly- however even though Director John Sturges made the artistic decision to end on a high note- with James Coburn escaping- the sad truth is the SS took the camp over from the Luttwaffe and rounded up and executed most of the escapees… Midwesterners may remember Ray Rayner from 'Bozo's Circus' on WGN- he was a US airman who escaped in a different break from the same camp.
And, like Captain Kangaroo (A Marine veteran from Okinawa campaign) never spoke about it…
TERRIFIC SERIES — AND THE FILM IS WONDERFUL TOO.
Thanks so much.
Love that you love it.
"White Heat" is a fantastic film, but it's a gangster film, not a prison movie. Never saw The Glass House. On my list. Look, when you list ten of any movies you end up cutting some pretty great stuff. Notice that "Bridge on the River Kwai" is not here.
Yes, the true story of "The Great Escape" is pretty grim, but in fairness to the film, we do see the SS machine gun Attenborough and others. I have no problem with ending a film on a high note, when appropriate.
Glad you like the series and really proud that you like the film.
y'know, Bob you're right- but most folk remember the final image and artistically it does work… I wasn't trying to be unfair, just pointing out the more or less lighthearted tone (which is admittedly a wonderful showcase for charmers like McQueen and Garner) is kinda 180 degrees out of phase. Thanks for the feedback…
neither is "Hogan's Heros, The Musical." I forgot to mention that one. It had a great score by Boyce and Hart, and was sublimely directed by Jack Nicholson. : )
What about Brute Force? I've heard a lot about it, but never had a chance to see it.
Never heard of it of it. Wow!
Wow – as I scroll down BH and see another installment of the prison interview I have to read it! I am enjoying this not only for the surface story but what a screenwriter should do (not make him the subject with his interviewees) – and the Polish actress sleeping with the screenwriter?
What I have discerned from a screenwriter's job is that it has to be terribly frustrating at times – put your heart and soul into something and then see a massive rewrite –
Or even worse –
Put your heart and soul into it and nobody wants it…
Had the Shawshank Redemption been made at this time? The scene where the new inmate is beaten sadistically by the guard will always stay with me
On the Great Escape – I always thought Steve McQueen';s character acted rather flippantly with Nazi guards who had submachine guns – I did learn that the Luftwaffe ran the Nazi prison system – certainly better than the SS – but still…
And the story of his jumping the fence – I forget the whole story but McQueen insisted on doing his own stunt – and
he was more comfortable riding a Triumph or BSA than the standard Wehrmacht issue, BMW (easily spotted by the 2 cylinders sticking out from the sides). So in the movie there was one British Triumph that the Nazis used
As you have mentioned, the actual life there was a lot more grim…
Brute Force is, if I remember correctly, a good film. But I haven't seen it for a long time. Have to screen it again. Thanks for reminding me.
"Shawshank" was not yet produced when I conducted my prison research.
I never complain about my life as a screenwriter. I'm thrilled that I can make a living writing movies, doing what I love to do. Every business has its frustrations. In truth, I've not been rewritten that much. I've been pretty luck that way. But when it happens I just quote The Godfather: “This is the business we have chosen..”
Thanks so much for the kind words. Glad you're enjoying the series.
As always, an excellent article. Love most of the films listed. Never cared for the women in prison movies.
Thanks so much.
Confession: I have a profound weakness for women in prison flicks.
It's a serious character issue.
Another great installment. I just read the post above mine, and was thinking kind of the same thing, but I have never liked ANYONE in prison movies. Even ones as good, as Cool Hand, Bird Man, Shawshank, etc. I did enjoy your movie, Robert, more than I expected to, but still is not my favorite setting for a movie. Maybe it is psychological. I wonder if because I was an abused wife for so many years, and like CO Cindy, at times contemplated his demise, if it just seems like it could have been an all too real ending for my life.
Glad that you enjoyed Within These Walls, to some extent. Look, as an abused wife I absolutely understand your dislike of prison movies. I can't watch medical dramas for personal reasons.
I sincerely hope that your life is better now.
Another great post, Robert.
Just for clarification, Capt Kangaroo (Bob Keeshan) was a US Marine, but he enlisted just prior to the atomic bombs being dropped and, by his own admission, he never saw combat. As an aside, Lee Marvin was shot in the butt in WW II and there have been numerous urban legends about Marvin and Keeshan being Navy Cross awardee's for fighting together on Iwo Jima, but you can go to Snopes.com read the real stories…
I ought to see the movie…
[...] Nashville’s Women’s Magazine | Her Nashville put an intriguing blog post on 10,000 Violent Women and One Screenwriter, Part VIHere’s a quick excerptBeautiful structure. Machine gun dialogue. Dark Bhumor/B. An exquisite machine. [...]
Yeah, sadly, you're right. As General Grant said several times in his memoirs, "That would have been a very good story, if it were only true."
Keeshan's parents insisted he graduate from high school before he could join the Marines. He graduated in June of 1945, which meant the war in europe was already over, and he was still in boot camp when the Japanese surrendered.
What?
No Female Prisoner Scorpion?
"Female Prisoner Scorpion" is one of my favorite women in prison movies, but it's Japanese and for various reasons I decided to limit my choices to American films.
Good on ya.
;^)
I loved this movie when I saw it on late nite TV as a kid. Very scary. Decades later I met and got to know Bern Schoenfeld (co-writer) shortly before he died in 1990. We talked about a lot of things but I never asked him about this film. His nephew had advised me not to. I don't know if he was miffed about being nominated for, but not winning the Oscar, or what it was. He had lots of neat stories about other stuff, though he usually wasn't a very talkative guy. He knew he didn't have much time left, and I lucked out, I guess. Plus, I gave him about a quart of blood just to keep him talking. Real blood. My blood. I just chalked it up to 'tuition'.
I really don't like to talk about it though.
When I read your series all I can think about is that I'm shocked that daily newspapers are closing left and right. Your series, while entertaining, matches only slightly the caliber of the best narrative journalism writers I've worked with and been mentored by. Gary Smith.Jon Franklin, and of course Tom Wolfe and Gay Talese come to mind. Don't get me wrong, I liked your series but I had a bittersweet feeling that stories of this same ilk yet IMHO better written, have been produced by daily newsrooms with hardly a murmur. I wish daily newspapers wouldn't have decided to give their content away for free because what they produced when they got it right was certainly worth paying for. So instead we're stuck with mediocre offerings from Hollywood movies which confuse popular with excellent or blogs on the Internet. Such a shame. The death of narrative greatness.
The best part is when Sargeant Schulz sings, "I May Know Nossing, but I'm no Dumkopf!" You know, John Banner had a suprisingly good voice.
I loved the writing, and the acting was good. I really like Laura Dern. She is the perfect fit for those type of movies. Thanks for the concern, Robert, I was very lucky, God granted me a 2nd chance and I have a fabulous life, now.
Thanks so much for the good review. Laura was great. In fact, she delivered line readings that made me look good. She's a finely-tuned actress with great instincts. Very happy to hear that your life is on track now.
Robert:
First, this has been an outstanding (and moving) series.
Second, you mixed up your Tzus. Sun Tzu never said anything about a sword plunged into salt water rusting. I speak as someone who owns (and has read) a dozen different translations of The Art of War and who has published a book based on it. I have found comments (via Google) that Lao Tzu (someone quite different from Sun Tzu; a philosopher credited with writing the Tao Te Ching) said that, but I have no original citation for it. ..bruce..
Thanks so much for the correction. My recall of Chinese classics obviously isn't all that sharp. I'm better with movies—I hope.
As always your writing is flawless in so many ways. To me the sign of a great writer is his ability to convey complex issues or thoughts with as few words as possible. Robert your writing is crisp and direct , I felt as though I was in the prison standing beside you throughout each interview.
Have you ever considered writing a nostalgic piece about Y of F elementary school ?
Thanks so much for the kind words. I have written about Yeshiva of Flatbush, and here's a smaple:
http://www.seraphicpress.com/archives/2005/06/ser...
I've read that piece. I guess the only good memory you have about Flatbush was the Tuesday pizza.
Which I could not eat—only become drunk on the delicious scent—because I packed lunch to school. No money for hot school lunches. Sigh. I'd kill to taste that pizza.
I have to say, this quote piqued my curiosity, as I'm pretty familiar with both Sun Tzu and the Tao Te Jing. Various searchable versions of Lao Tzu yielded only one reference to swords, and nothing to do with salt water. A bit of googling found it in a book by Martin van Creveld, the military historian, who attributes it to Lao Tzu, but doesn't give a reference. He cites it to support his opposition to Israeli "occupation" of the territory captured in 1967, i.e., continued low-intensity COIN operations will render a modern army unfit for large scale warfare.
I wonder if Prof. van Creveld heard this somewhere and simply recycled the mis-attribution, or whether he made it up out of whole cloth.
Very interesting. I've never read van Creveld. Friends in the IDF, battle hardened officers, consider him one of those military experts who can be counted on to be wrong.
The Glass House with Alan Alda and Vic Morrow, Poly Sci professor said it was the most realistic prison movie he ever saw.
You must be logged in to post a comment.