rowmorg Review of The Man from Elysian Fields

The Man from Elysian Fields (2001)

Lasker's script is the problem

[5/10 · 3 September 2005]

Being a nobody whose name does not come up in a Google search and a failed writer of bits of TV series, Lasker should have written a much more authoritative portrait of his alter ego, Byron Tiller. Instead there are several basic errors that the director or producer should have avoided in Lasker's script. They have nothing to do with budgetary restrictions. With so many films having been written about writers, by writers, it seems incredible that they should still be produced with fundamental faults that would never be tolerated, for example, in a script about lawyers by a lawyer like John Grisham. First, no failed novel is remaindered after seven years. More like six months. So the film starts out with a false premise. Second, a writer who has produced nothing significant for seven years does not maintain a professional office in downtown Pasadena, even in a second-rate building. He works in his spare room, just like tens of thousands of other writers who consider themselves to be doing quite well. Being able to maintain his own office, he therefore has no motivation to take up a type of work that evidently repels him and the plot loses credibility. The successful writer who later features in the story admits that Tiller "might be right" when Tiller calls him "a genius", and yet the riches enjoyed by genius seldom accord with literary preeminence but with bestsellerdom and the two are linked only rarely, compare e.g. the comparative economic status of J.K.Rowling (incredibly rich) and, say, Terry Southern (incredibly poor), or even John Kennedy Toole who, despairing of ever being published, killed himself before his 'Confederacy of Dunces' won all the prizes. If this film had been more accurate about the literary business, it would have been a better work of art. Incidentally, the odd relationship between the three main characters when they go public was very common in European high society, where rich old men often had young noble wives. It was socially permissible for them to have a young admirer in tow, as long as the niceties were observed. He was called a "cavaliere servente", and another literary notable, George Gordon Lord Byron, played this role for several years in 19th century Tuscany. Another odd literary set-up was the household of Aldous Huxley, where his wife, who was bisexual, would screen his young female admirers horizontally before ushering them into the Presence.