Then around '37, I figured it was time to do something really stylish. A film noir, as they call them now. I wanted the story simple, but filled with action, and at the same time moving, in its way, y'know? So I hit on this story about an orphan. Orphans are always good, 'cept she falls in with this bunch of miscreants. Real bad apples, y'know? They go on this murderous rampage. Lots of bodies everywhere. At the end, just before she's supposed to go to the Chair, she has this big weepy scene that had Oscar written all over it, about how all she wanted in life was a real home. Brilliant stuff, gotta tell ya.
So the studio takes a look and gives it the green light. Casting was a breeze, except for the kid. Still, we found a great little trooper and signed her on.
Then the problems start: they've decided to do a little rewrite, they tell me. Nothing big, but since they own it, they make it clear they can do anything they want with it. Part of the game, I figure.
Next thing I hear, it's a musical. A musical! And since Technicolour is the Big Thing, they've decided to go from simple black and white to full colour with this. And I start getting worried, let me tell you.
I didn't hear much after that: some casting changes, a few mishaps on the set, I don't know what all else. Then they have the premiere, and I figure I should go: despite all the changes, I was still listed as screenwriter. I don't recognize the director or most of the cast, and thirty seconds into it, I had to leave the theatre. I didn't write any farm scene, let alone some auntie-em and uncle-whatever-his-name-was comic-rellief duo. I figured if they changed it this drastically, there was no hope in Hell for the rest of it.
I've never seen it. Y'know? It's like this black mark on my resume, one of those embarrassments I'm ashamed to even mention I was connected to.
