When Writers Write About Writers (originally published 2/02)

I mentioned last week that movies about famous writers, like the current "Iris," starring Judi Dench and Kate Winslet as Iris Murdoch, often take broad liberties with the historical facts in order to tell a more engaging story. Naturally enough, filmmakers often go on to take the next logical step with their writer protagonists, inventing them out of whole cloth rather than basing them on actual writers. For a look at some of the cinema's most interesting fictional wordsmiths, look for these titles on video.

"The Third Man" (1949). The setting of Graham Greene's delightful screenplay is occupied postwar Vienna, carved up by the victorious Allies into separate Russian, British, and American jurisdictions. Since everyone is jointly in charge, it follows that no one is really in charge. Amid the confusion a black market thrives, along with all manner of collateral corruption. Into this cauldron of intrigue comes Holly Martins (Joseph Cotton), an American writer of Western novels. He has come to Vienna to meet his old friend, Harry Lime (Orson Welles), who has offered him a job. Upon arriving, however, the hapless Holly is told that Harry has been killed in a street accident. As Holly probes more deeply into the circumstances surrounding the incident, a disturbingly unflattering image of his friend begins to emerge.

"Sunset Boulevard" (1950). William Holden stars as penniless screenwriter Joe Gillis in one of the classic Hollywood movies about Hollywood. While eluding some men who want to repossess his car, Joe stumbles upon the home of Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson), a has-been star of the silent screen. He learns that she is planning a comeback in the role of Salome, starring in a script she has written herself. Desperate for work, Joe convinces her to hire him to rewrite her script for the contemporary market. Soon, however, he learns that she is interested in more than his writing talents. Writer-director Billy Wilder bit the hand that fed him with this sharply satiric send-up of Hollywood, but he did it so artfully that the industry gave him an Academy Award for his screenplay. Reproduced below is the film's original promotional trailer, courtesy of Turner Classic Movies.



"A Fine Madness" (1966). If I told you that this mid-sixties film was the story of a brooding poet struggling to write a masterpiece long after his muse had deserted him, who would you expect to see in the lead role? In the highly unlikely event that you guessed Sean Connery, you'd be correct. Right in the middle of his very successful run as the screen's first and best James Bond, Connery acquitted himself admirably in this manic comedy about the trials and tribulations of a tortured, misunderstood poet.

"Sleuth" (1972). Anthony Shaffer's play about a deadly game of cat and mouse was translated to the screen with consummate skill by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, one of the most respected directors from the old days of the Hollywood studio system. Most of the film is concerned with the conflict between aristocratic mystery writer Andrew Wyke (Laurence Olivier) and Milo Tindle (Michael Caine), a working class hairdresser. It seems that Milo has been having an affair with Andrew's wife. When Milo visits Andrew's stately mansion to discuss the matter, Andrew uses the occasion to take his revenge. But, being a famous mystery writer, Andrew feels compelled to make a game of it, weaving an elaborate plot in which Milo becomes perilously entangled. Olivier and Caine play off one another spectacularly.

"Reuben, Reuben" (1983). Tom Conti stars as Gowan McGland, a dissolute Scottish poet who finds himself living in a strait-laced New England college town. Gowan is that most wretched of creatures, a writer who can no longer write. Empty of inspiration, seemingly with his best work behind him although still a young man, he has turned to drink and debauchery. After a series of sordid liaisons with older women, he meets a younger woman, played by Kelly McGillis in her screen debut. Gowan falls in love with her, and finds in her youthful vitality the hope of rediscovering the wellspring of poetic invention that has so long eluded him.

Thankfully, the sort of terminal writer's block that we see in movies like "A Fine Madness" and "Reuben, Reuben" isn't that common in real life. In fact, the script for "Reuben, Reuben" was written by septuagenarian Julius J. Epstein, still going strong after having co-scripted "Casblanca" some forty years earlier.

The Write Stuff (originally published 2/02)

When an editor at Doubleday suggested to Isaac Asimov that he write an autobiography to mark the occasion of his 200th published book, he initally hesitated. Having written 200 books, he argued, he had scarcely had time to have a life away from the typewriter. Most writers, however, don't write anything close to 200 books in their lives, let alone the 470-odd books that marked Asimov's final tally. Despite all appearances, writers - Asimov included - do have lives. In fact, studying a writer's life can often provide fascinating insights into his or her published works, which is why literary biography is a genre with a long and distinguished history.

Films, too, have often portrayed the lives of literary figures. The recently released "Iris," for example, dramatizes the life of novelist Iris Murdoch, with Kate Winslet as the young Murdoch and Judi Dench as Murdoch toward the end of her life. For a sampling of earlier movie biographies of writers, look for these titles on video.

"The Barretts of Wimpole Street" (1934). Rudolf Besier's play about the courtship and marriage of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett became one of the high-gloss prestige productions for which M-G-M was known in its glory days. Norma Shearer and Fredric March star as Elizabeth and Robert, ably supported by Charles Laughton as Elizabeth's tyrannical father, who is bitterly opposed to their romance.

"The Life of Emile Zola" (1937). Biographical pictures were one of the specialties of the Warner Brothers studio. In particular, Paul Muni, who was under contract to Warners, made something of a personal specialty of the portrayal of historical figures, from Louis Pasteur to Benito Juarez. Here he plays French writer Emile Zola. Understandably, much of the film is dedicated to Zola's famous defense of Alfred Dreyfus, who was wrongly convicted of treason by the French army and sentenced to Devil's Island. The first half, however, shows Zola's rise from poverty and obscurity to wealth and fame, showing how much he was risking by taking up the cause of Dreyfus. Reproduced below is the film's original promotional trailer, courtesy of Turner Classic Movies.



"Julia" (1977). Based on Lillian Hellman's autobiographical "Pentimento," this film parallels Hellman's early successes as a playwright with the early adulthood of her childhood friend, Julia. Hellman (Jane Fonda) admires Julia (Vanessa Redgrave), but worries that Julia's increasingly radical political views will get her into trouble. Eventually they do, and Hellman has to decide whether to stick out her own neck to advance her friend's idealistic crusade.

"Agatha" (1979). In 1926, mystery writer Agatha Christie caused a bit of a stir by disappearing for ten days. She then reappeared, seeming none the worse for her experience, and declined any comment on where she had been. She never did explain her absence, and, so far as anyone knows, took the secret of those ten days with her to her grave. This entertaining film offers a fictional explanation for her whereabouts during that period. Vanessa Redgrave stars as Christie, along with Dustin Hoffman as a journalist who tracks her down. The notion of a real mystery story involving one of our most beloved mystery writers is irresistible, and this entertaining movie makes the most of it.

"Heart Beat" (1980). This interesting and largely ignored little film dramatizes the relationship between Beat Generation novelist Jack Kerouac, Carolyn Robinson, and Neal Cassady, who inspired the character Dean Moriarty in Kerouac's "On the Road." Kerouac is played by John Heard and Cassady by Nick Nolte, but it is Sissy Spacek as Robinson who narrates the film. Robinson is ideally positioned to tell the story by virtue of her romantic involvement with both Cassady and Kerouac. In fact, the film shows them attempting a sort of three-way marriage.

"Cross Creek" (1983). In the late twenties, so this movie tells us, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, author of "The Yearling," left home and husband behind to move to a Florida farm and find herself. As portrayed by Mary Steenburgen, under the direction of Martin Ritt, she's a sort of distaff Thoreau without the politics. That's not quite how it happened, but it does make for a good story.

In fact, none of these films hesitates to sacrifice historical accuracy on the altar of good storytelling. Still, considering the subject matter, that might be for the best. The principle that good drama trumps good history would almost certainly be endorsed by every writer whose story is told in these films.

True Crimes (originally published 2/02)

Back in the old days, before movies and television, they had their own ways of exploiting the perpetrators and/or victims of sensational crimes. For instance, some quick-thinking entrepreneur might visit the boneyard in the wee hours and dig up the corpse of the individual in question. He would then tour the stiff around the county fair circuit, charging the locals two bits a head to view the remains.

Today, we have the electronic equivalent of this sideshow profiteering: the television docudrama. Just this week, for example, the tube exhumed for our edification poor Marilyn Reza, whose husband, Dr. Robert Reza, was convicted of her 1990 murder largely on the testimony of his former mistress. The CBS miniseries "Guilty Hearts" changed the names, but makes no bones about the connection, advertising itself as a "true crime love story."

Still, television didn't invent the idea of capitalizing on sensational crime stories. Movies have been doing it since the silent days. Here are some prime examples to look for on home video.

"Rope" (1948). The infamous Leopold and Loeb case was the inspiration for this Alfred Hitchcock film about a pair of intellectual college boys who murder a school chum for no other reason than to prove they can get away with it. Farley Granger and John Dall play the lead roles opposite James Stewart as the professor whose cynical philosophical musings inspired the boys to commit the murder. Hitchcock tried a fascinating technical experiment with this picture. Since the action is played out in real time on a single set, he decided to film it without any cuts. That is to say, the camera never stops running - the whole film is one long, unbroken shot. Because a camera's film magazine can only hold about ten minutes of film, Hitchcock had an actor cross in front of the camera just before the film ran out, then started again with the actor crossing the lens. By splicing the film just as the actor blocks the view, the illusion of a continuous shot could be maintained. It is still, I believe, the only commercial feature film to have been shot in this manner.

"I Want to Live!" (1958). Almost 50 years after her execution in the gas chamber at San Quentin, the case of Barbara Graham can still start arguments. There are those who say that she was railroaded and others who maintain that the verdict was just. She had been convicted of murdering an elderly, crippled woman while attempting to rob her. The conviction stood despite certain discrepancies that subsequently came to light. Susan Hayward received an Academy Award for portraying Graham in this Hollywood version of her story, directed by Robert Wise. Producer Walter Wanger and scriptwriters Nelson Gidding and Don Mankiewicz clearly come down on Graham's side of the controversy. In fact, the film emerges as a powerful statement against capital punishment.

"In Cold Blood" (1967). Truman Capote's "nonfiction novel" about the murder of the Clutter family of Kansas by Perry Smith and Dick Hickock was adapted for the screen by Richard Brooks. Instead of casting big name stars in the roles of the killers, Brooks decided to go with unknown actors - Robert Blake (prior to his television success as "Baretta") and Scott Wilson. He ratcheted down the budget, shot in black and white on the actual locations where the events had transpired, and turned out a fictional film that looked and felt like a documentary. But while maintaining this realistic, just the facts ma'am veneer, Brooks ransacks his director's bag of tricks. You name it, he does it: cross cuts, match cuts, flashbacks, fancy dissolves, the works. It's a neat bit of sleight of hand, and very effective.

"The Boston Strangler" (1968). Tony Curtis delivers a striking performance as Albert De Salvo, whose multiple personality disorder permits him to murder and mutilate women without ever realizing that the killer and he are one and the same. This is really almost like two films butted together. The first half follows the police investigation tracking down suspects, while the second half follows De Salvo's journey into the treacherous labyrinth of his own tortured mind.

To be sure, these modern-day sideshows substitute actors for the actual participants in the scandals and crimes they commemorate. But don't feel too cheated. At least half the time the exhibits that toured the county fair circuit were not the real McCoys either.

The Matheson Files (originally published 2/02)

Don't let Chris Carter kid you. He already knows the truth. And the truth is this: the profits are out there. "The X-Files," Carter's phenomenally successful television series demonstrates that intelligent, imaginative contemporary fantasy can command an enthusiastic and loyal audience.

The only problem is that it's a devilishly difficult form to do well. It may look easy enough - just come up with a way-out premise and see where it takes you - but those who have tried it know better. The films of recent vintage that have sought to cash in on the success of "The X-Files," from M. Night Shyamalan's excellent "The Sixth Sense" (1999) to the somewhat less sure-footed "Mothman Prophecies," which is currently playing nationwide, have all had to deal with the fact that Carter's style is not easily emulated.

At the same time, Carter and "The X-Files" didn't spring full blown from the head of Zeus. It seems to me that the success of Carter's show and its many clones ought to be the occasion for a renewed interest in some of the practitioners of contemporary fantasy who blazed the trail that Carter follows so capably.

In particular, no one deserves to share in the adulation of the X-fans more than novelist and screenwriter Richard Matheson. If you're a fan of "The X-Files," or if you enjoyed "The Mothman Prophecies," and you aren't familiar with Matheson's work, run, don't walk, to the corner video store and look for these titles.

"The Incredible Shrinking Man" (1957). I know, it's a silly title. It wasn't Matheson's fault. This was Hollywood in the 1950s, when silly titles were all the rage, and it was Matheson's first film script. Even though it was based on his novel, "The Shrinking Man," he didn't have much say in the movie's title. The script, however, is anything but silly. This shivery fantasy about a man who begins to shrink after being exposed to a radioactive cloud pursues its premise with inexorable logic to a disquieting conclusion.

"The Twilight Zone: Nick of Time" (1960). If you're thinking of calling one of those psychic network 900 lines, watch this first. William Shatner and Patricia Breslin play a young couple who are passing through a small town. While waiting for a car repair, they stop in a local café for lunch. At the table, they have some fun with a little fortune telling device that answers questions for a penny. The fun takes a serious turn, however, when some of the answers prove to be a little too close for comfort.

"Star Trek: The Enemy Within" (1966). When the Enterprise's transporter malfunctions while beaming Captain Kirk aboard, two Kirks materialize instead of just one. The two Kirks are not identical, however. One manifests only Kirk's good character traits, while the other has only his evil tendencies. Matheson's script updates the Jekyll and Hyde theme with skill and intelligence.

"Duel" (1971). Dennis Weaver stars as a man whose business trip is complicated by an ongoing duel with a malevolent truck driver. Matheson does this sort of story wonderfully - an everyday, mundane situation that gradually spirals out of control and into the realm of fantasy. This TV movie was one of the early successes for a young director named Steven Spielberg.

"The Legend of Hell House" (1973). Matheson's tribute to Shirley Jackson's "The Haunting of Hill House" places a group of intrepid ghost hunters in the "Mount Everest of haunted houses," a creepy old mansion called the Belasco House, to see what transpires. Soon enough the overnight guests, who range from paranormal researchers to psychics, have reason to doubt the wisdom of their little adventure.

"Somewhere in Time" (1980). Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour star in a most unusual love story. Reeve's character becomes infatuated with the 1912 portrait of a beguiling actress. By means of directed imagery, he manages to transport himself back to her era and meet her (or perhaps he's imagining the whole thing; Matheson leaves that for you to decide). Naturally, they fall in love. The circumstances, however, are anything but natural, which does not bode well for the relationship.

Oh, and if you're wondering whether Chris Carter is aware of his debt to Matheson, you'll find the answer in earlier seasons of the show itself, in the name of Agent Mulder's contact in Congress: Senator Richard Matheson.

College Comedies, Part 2 (originally published 1/02)

Having spent the last couple of weeks laboring mightily, along with my departmental colleagues, to get another semester underway - liftin' that roster and totin' that syllabus - I'm not much in the mood just now for a movie with a collegiate setting. That's why I'll probably wait a while to see "Orange County," the recently released comedy about a student's efforts to get into Stanford. Soon, however, the trauma of kicking off the semester will subside, and I'll be ready once again to enjoy some campus comedies like the ones we looked at last week. Here are some additional titles in that vein to look for on home video.

"The Freshman" (1925). The flapper era of the 1920s saw a profusion of campus comedies from Hollywood. Silent comic Harold Lloyd's contribution was one of his finest and most popular films. He plays a naïve, college-bound young man whose entire concept of collegiate life has been gleaned from (where else?) the movies. He's even learned to do a little jig-like dance step that his favorite campus movie character uses to introduce himself. In short order he becomes the laughingstock of the campus. When he is given the job of football team water boy, he thinks he's made the team, and no one bothers to disabuse him of the notion. Then comes the day of the big game...

"Horse Feathers" (1932). Wherever the Marx Brothers went, dignity was inevitably put to rout. Knowing this, they particularly liked to take aim at institutions that pride themselves on their dignity, from the halls of government to grand opera. The pomp and circumstance of a university provided an irresistible target. Groucho plays Professor Quincy Adams Wagstaff, the new president of Huxley College. Following his inauguration, he gets right down to the important business of hiring professional players for the college's football team, but mistakenly hires a dogcatcher (Harpo) and a bootlegger (Chico) instead.

"Bonzo Goes to College" (1952). Bonzo the Chimp had been introduced in "Bedtime For Bonzo" (1951), in which he is raised in a totally human environment by a psychology professor (Ronald Reagan) attempting to prove that environment is more important than heredity. In this sequel, which does not feature Reagan, Bonzo ends up on a college campus, where he is adopted by a professor's daughter. The college is badly in need of a star football player, so when the hyperintelligent Bonzo proves that he can pass the school's entrance exam, the inevitable consequences ensue. Like its predecessor, this film was directed by Frederick de Cordova, who would go on to produce NBC's "Tonight Show" during Johnny Carson's tenure there.

"Back to School" (1986). It is well known that Rodney Dangerfield excels at playing a boorish loudmouth. In this entertaining picture, however, he accomplished the neat trick of making that character loveable. A self-made millionaire who has become disillusioned with his sham of a marriage, he decides to go back to college in order to be closer to his son. The youngster is therefore exposed to what must be the ultimate teen nightmare: being away at school and yet still being embarassed by a clinging parent. Along with the amusing brand of vulgarity that has become Dangerfield's screen trademark, the film also manages to effectively lampoon the ivory-tower stuffiness of academe while still endorsing the value of higher education.

"School Daze" (1988). Set in a fictionalized version of Atlanta's Morehouse College, the director's alma mater, Spike Lee's comedy brings to the screen a provocative take on the African-American college experience. He deals with such touchy issues as complexion prejudice among blacks (light-skins versus dark-skins) and sexism among black men while still keeping the overall tone light and entertaining. Lee himself appears in the film as a hapless fraternity pledge striving to be accepted.

As someone who still labors in the halls of academe, I suppose campus comedies will always have a particular significance for me. After all, I have a wider range of college memories than most people, having attended two and having taught at three. My responses to particular college films vary, of course, but in the aggregate they pretty much come down to this: where was Groucho when I really needed him?

College Comedies (originally published 1/02)

Most of us look back on our college days with some affection. After all, it was a time when we had both maximal personal autonomy and minimal responsibilities at the same time. A lot of us didn't really appreciate what a neat trick that was until after graduation, so we have to be content with appreciating it in retrospect.

This widespread alumni nostalgia has not, of course, escaped the notice of filmmakers. Movies that take place on college campuses have been served up by Hollywood on a regular basis from the silent film era right down to today. They come in all flavors, of course, but it seems that the most consistent audience pleasers are the collegiate comedies, like the recently released "Orange County." If this tale of the trials and tribulations of getting into Stanford has you waxing sentimental over your own carefree university days, here are some classic college comedies to look for on home video.

"College" (1927). Campus comedies were already a movie staple by the time silent film comedian Buster Keaton weighed in with this hilarious take on college life. Buster was the valedictorian of his high school class, but in college it seems that you have to be a sports hero to have real status. When the girl he's stuck on spurns him, he resolves to take up a sport to win her approval. As he stumbles and fumbles his way through one sport after another, the film gets funnier and funnier.

"The Male Animal" (1942). This delightful adaptation of the play by James Thurber and Elliot Nugent features Henry Fonda as Tommy Turner, a soft-spoken English professor who feels his marriage is in jeopardy when a former star football player returns to campus. It seems that the jock and Tommy's wife were an item during their undergraduate days. At the same time, Tommy is being pressured by the administration to change his mind about reading a politically charged letter to his class as an example of eloquent writing. Thurber and Nugent's satirical barbs effectively skewer campus culture at all levels, from air headed jocks to narrow minded college administrators.

"Good News" (1947). Leave it to MGM to create the definitive campus musical. Peter Lawford stars as the captain of the football team and June Allyson stars as the co-ed who makes sure that his grades are good enough to keep him on the team. The story was already old when "Good News" premiered as a Broadway play in 1927, but MGM musicals are about style, not substance. That distinctive style comes through in musical numbers like "The Best Things In Life Are Free" and "The Varsity Drag." Reproduced below is the original promotional trailer for the film, courtesy of Turner Classic Movies.



"The Affairs of Dobie Gillis" (1953). When freshman Dobie Gillis arrives at Grainbelt University, he has his priorities straight: chasing skirts first, studies second, if at all. This MGM musical production features Bobby Van as Dobie and Debbie Reynolds as the object of his amorous attentions. This screen incarnation of novelist Max Shulman's character was sufficiently successful to inspire a television series, "The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis," in which Dwayne Hickman took over the role.

"The Nutty Professor" (1963). Jerry Lewis used a college setting in this comedy to do an offbeat variation on the Jekyll and Hyde story. As Professor Julius Kelp, he is lovable but socially inept. A formula he develops converts him into the attractive, smooth, and thoroughly insufferable Buddy Love. Some thirty years later, the film was remade as a very successful vehicle for Eddie Murphy.

"National Lampoon's Animal House" (1978). Long before Trey Parker, Matt Stone, and the Farrelly brothers elevated bad taste to an art form, the trail was blazed for them by the screen antics of the brothers of the Delta house. Led by John Belushi at his most outrageous, the cast creates a memorable portrait of campus debauchery triumphant. Although its excesses have since been rendered somewhat tame by comparison with the likes of "There's Something About Mary," it remains an entertaining look at a significant, if less than salutary, aspect of campus life.

Next time we'll consider even more examples of college comedies, including a look at what happens when the solemn dignity of a university campus is besieged by the irresistible chaos of the Marx Brothers.

Prodigies (originally published 1/02)

I have this theory that we're all born as geniuses. Think about it: we're born knowing absolutely nothing, not even how to roll over, and yet in five years' time most of us have a pretty good handle on how to function in the world. The skills we acquired in that time starting from ground zero are truly staggering to consider, including walking, language acquisition, and programming a VCR. Who but a genius could accomplish so much in so short a time? Leo Tolstoy put it this way: "From the child of five to myself is but a step. But from the newborn baby to the child of five is an appalling distance."

All too soon, however, our native genius fades, exhausted perhaps after carrying us through that first tidal wave of learning, and we settle in to become just average folks. In a few of us, this heightened capacity for learning persists, although often confined to just a single category of learning, and it is those people whom we label as "geniuses."

Most fascinating of all are the youngsters, known as "child prodigies," who not only exhibit normal development, a prodigious enough accomplishment in itself, but actually progress beyond childish proficiencies to attain a level of mastery unusual even in adults. These remarkable youngsters are universally irresistible to storytellers of all types, from journalists to filmmakers. The producers of the recent release, "Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius," have tapped into this premise by creating a 21st Century variation on Tom Swift, the fictional boy inventor whose exploits have introduced many a youngster to the wonders of technology. Naturally, there are plenty of earlier movies that have dealt in some way with child prodigies. Here are a few examples that can be found on home video.

"Village of the Damned" (1960). In the English town of Midwich, a number of women become mysteriously impregnated. In due course, they give birth to a group of somber, extremely intelligent children with intense, penetrating eyes. Gradually it becomes clear that these children are not of this Earth, and that they represent a threat to humanity. Unfortunately, by the time this is recognized they have achieved such a level of superiority that no attempt to thwart them is likely to succeed. This classic science fiction film, based on John Wyndham's novel, "The Midwich Cuckoos," inspired both a sequel, "Children of the Damned" (1964), and a 1995 John Carpenter remake.

"Dear Brigitte" (1965). Most college professors would be delighted to have a child who turned out to be a genius. In this film, James Stewart plays a humanities professor who is chagrined to learn that his son, Erasmus (Billy Mumy), is a mathematical prodigy. Stewart's character holds math and science in utter disdain, and was hoping that his children would have a special affinity for painting or music, areas in which Erasmus shows no aptitude whatever. Young Erasmus's head for figures is not, however, confined to equations. It seems that he has developed a crush on French screen star Brigitte Bardot, and has made it his goal to meet her in person.

"Little Man Tate" (1991). Those alien children in "Village of the Damned" were more than just stock villains. They were a metaphor for the reality of hyperintelligent children. To those who interact with them, and even to their own parents, infant prodigies can indeed seem like alien beings. "Little Man Tate" deals with this theme without the overlay of fantasy metaphor. Jodie Foster (who also directed), plays Dede Tate, whose son, seven year old Fred, is a transcendant genius. Dede, an average working class mom with no special intellectual abilities, knows all too well that she can't provide him with the stimulation his vast intellect requires. She decides to entrust Fred to a child psychologist, played by Dianne Wiest, who will oversee his mental development. But Wiest's character becomes so engrossed in training Fred's intellect that she neglects the emotional nurturing that all children need.

One way or another, that is a theme that is central to most child prodigy movies: no matter how much of a prodigy a child may be, he or she is still a child, with a child's emotional needs. Despite the fact that we call such children "gifted," the hard truth is that the gift exacts a price. And that, as all storytellers know, is a perfect recipe for drama.