Films and Pulitzers

Urge to merge with greatness fuels Hollywood's love of Pulitzer winners

By James Verniere, Entertainment News Service

Glittering prizes have always been an aphrodisiac in Hollywood. This is evident not only on Oscar night, but also in the long-term relationship between the movies and the Pulitzer Prize, a relationship evident today in two new films, Universal's "One True Thing" and Touchstone's "Beloved."

The urge to merge with greatness has always been around in Hollywood. In "An Empire of Their Own: How the Jews Invented Hollywood," a penetrating study of the cultural forces forging a nascent film industry, film historian Neal Gabler explains how Hollywood's founding fathers sought out classic or prize-winning properties to help lift themselves and their burgeoning industry out of "poverty row" and move them to a place of honor in their newly built movie palaces.

No longer were movies going to be a fly-by-night novelty. They would be an art form for the masses, and the people who made them, purveyors of taste. What better way to prove that point than to take advantage of the prestigious Pulitzer Prize, an award first endowed in 1917 by Joseph Pulitzer, a Hungarian immigrant who made his fortune in America and became the publisher of the New York World, a trend-setting daily newspaper with the largest circulation in the nation.

Hollywood's fondness for such prestigious, often pre-sold projects has never flagged and is a driving force behind Carl Franklin's "One True Thing" and Jonathan Demme's "Beloved." "Beloved," a Civil War-era drama about an escaped slave, is based on a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Toni Morrison. "One True Thing" is an adaptation of the best-selling novel by Pultizer Prize-winning newspaper columnist Anna Quindlen. Both films hope the cachet of the Prize will help lure audiences in search of something substantial.

Currently in pre-production at Paramount is an adaptation of Frank McCourt's "Angela's Ashes," reportedly with Robert Carlyle ("The Full Monty") and Emily Watson ("Breaking the Waves") in the leads, and director Alan Parker ("The Commitments") at the helm.

All of this is nothing new. The year after it was awarded the Prize in 1922, Booth Tarkington's "Alice Adams," the story of a social-climber whose illusions are shattered by her brutish relatives, was adapted to the screen by Roland V. Lee with Florence Vidor (then wife of director King Vidor) in the title role. (Katharine Hepburn would, of course, famously play the role again in a 1935 "talking" film directed by George Stevens. Notably, Hepburn earned her second Academy Award nomination for her work in this Depression-era hit.)

In 1925, silent movie queen and jazz age "flapper" Coleen Moore assayed the role of Selina Peake in a screen adaptation of Edna Ferber's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, "So Big." Selina is a penniless, idealistic teacher (one of the few "respectable" jobs available to women at one time) who prevails against adversity. The film, an archetypal "soaper," was re-made with Barbara Stanwyck in 1932 by director William A. Wellman and again in 1953 by director Robert Wise with Jane Wyman in the title role (a short film version of this story was also made in 1930).

Although the studio brutally cut an hour from the film, Orson Welles' screen version of Booth Tarkington's "The Magnificent Ambersons" (1942) is widely believed to be even better than the Pulitzer Prize-winning book.

A pattern that emerges here is the preponderance of women's issues addressed by these works. "Alice Adams" and "So Big" qualify. So do such recently adapted Pulitzer-winning works as Alice Walker's "The Color Purple," the story of an abused ex-slave's struggle for freedom and independence, and Jane Smiley's "A Thousand Acres," a modern-day "King Lear" set in the Midwestern wheat fields. Even Martin Scorsese's version of Edith Wharton's "The Age of Innocence" qualifies as a woman's film (which may explain the chagrin of many of Scorsese's fans).

The most famous Pultizer Prize-winner-turned-movie of this sort, of course, is Margaret Mitchell's "Gone with the Wind" (1939). The "Titanic" of its time, "Gone with the Wind" has been recently restored and successfully re-released, and it is listed by many filmgoers as their favorite film of all time.

The Pulitzer Prize has had another interesting side effect. It has offered the film industry a legitimate reason to bring what otherwise might have been considered too politically charged a topic to the screen, especially at times when industry watchdogs have been poised to take a bite out of Hollywood.

Perhaps if John Steinbeck's proletarian novel "The Grapes of Wrath" had not won a Pulitzer Prize in 1940, filmmaker John Ford would not have dared to make this tale of impoverished "Oakies" vainly seeking a promised land in California.

Tennessee Williams' controversial, erotically charged stage dramas, "A Streetcar Named Desire" and "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" were in effect legitimized by their prizes, making them acceptable fodder for the screen.

The film version of Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" may have done as much for civil rights as any sit-in.

"The Diary of Anne Frank" opened the eyes of many to the horrors of the Holocaust.

"Advise and Consent" and "All the King's Men" took a dim, insider's view of American politics.

Herman Wouk's "The Caine Mutiny" was an attack on the military's authoritarian power structure.

To be sure, there was more conventional fare as well: Sinclair Lewis' "Arrowsmith," Pearl S. Buck's "The Good Earth," Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings' "The Yearling."

However, as the film versions of "Ironweed" and "Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love" demonstrate, the Prize does not assure cinematic success.

Although they were in the business of making money, Hollywood's founding fathers believed they could improve the lot of many Americans by exposing them to film versions of acclaimed plays at movie prices. However sincere they were in this regard, the result speaks for itself. Many more people have seen "Hamlet" on a movie screen than on a theater stage.

But film versions of Pulitzer Prize-winning plays often have not fared well, perhaps because novels are more readily adapted to the screen, while plays often need to be "opened up."

Among the more successful adaptations are Eugene O'Neill's "Anna Christie" (filmed once with Blanche Sweet, once with Greta Garbo) and "Long Day's Journey into Night," Frank Capra's Oscar-winning adaptation of "You Can't Take It With You" (1938), the beloved 1950 version of Mary Chase's "Harvey," William Inge's "Picnic" (1955) and the film of David Mamet's "Glengarry Glen Ross" (1992).

Among the Prize-winning plays that didn't work on the screen are "The Great White Hope" (1970) and "The Subject Was Roses" (1968).

Young people might be surprised to learn that there was a time when Broadway musicals were brought to the screen, instead of the other way around. Among the Pultizer Prize-winning works to make that transition are "South Pacific," "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" and "A Chorus Line." We can assume we'll be seeing a film version of Jonathan Larson's "Rent" some time soon with a cast of neo-bratpackers.

Roger Ebert, the only film critic to be awarded a Pulitzer Prize, has argued for the creation of a Pulitzer Prize for movies. But given how many films have been based on Pultizer Prize-winning works, such an award might be redundant.

Hollywood's fondness for Pulitzer Prize-winning stories is a driving force behind Jonathan Demme's "Beloved," a Civil War-era drama about an escaped slave based on novel by Toni Morrison. The film stars Oprah Winfrey (pictured with Kimberly Elise, left) and Danny Glover.