Siegel S., Siegel B. The Encyclopedia Of Hollywood

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during the first half of the decade, most notably The

Manchurian Candidate (1962) and the only ﬁlm he directed,

produced, and starred in, None But the Brave (1965).

He slowed down in the latter 1960s, putting his best

movie efforts into a number of somber and serious thrillers:

The Naked Runner (1967), Tony Rome (1967), The Detective

(1968), and The Lady in Cement (1968). In 1971, after the fail-

ure of the comedy Dirty Dingus Magee (1970), Sinatra

announced not only his retirement from the movies but also

his farewell to show business. He didn’t stay away for long,

however, returning to recording and concert tours, and,

rarely, the movies. His last major starring role was in The

First Deadly Sin (1980).

Sinatra’s personal life was a roller-coaster ride. He was

romantically involved with

LAUREN BACALL

as well as having

been married four times, twice to famous actresses. His ﬁrst

wife, Nancy, is the mother of his three children, Nancy, Tina,

and Frank Jr.

AVA GARDNER

was spouse number two, fol-

lowed by Mia Farrow, and ﬁnally Barbara Marx, the ex-wife

of the fourth Marx brother, Zeppo.

See also

SINGER

ACTORS

singer-actors Major recording stars have often

attempted to make the transition to ﬁlms, and a number have

had considerable success. Certainly, movie studios and pro-

ducers have actively courted the most popular recording

artists in the hope that their fans will plunk down the price of

admission to see them act on the big screen. For the most

part, the money men have been right. From the entertainer’s

point of view, making it in the movies is the ultimate achieve-

ment. One can be the biggest recording star in the world,

but, for some reason, it doesn’t have the same panache as hav-

ing one’s name on a movie-theater marquee.

Until the sound revolution, when Al Jolson’s voice was

heard in The Jazz Singer (1927), there was little demand in

Hollywood for famous singers. Jolson became the ﬁrst

singer-actor, and he was enormously popular in movies

throughout the late 1920s and early 1930s. Jolson’s popular-

ity prompted the signing of several other top singer-enter-

tainers, including Eddie Cantor,

RUDY VALLEE

, Maurice

Chevalier, and Bing Crosby. All of them performed exclu-

sively in musicals during their early ﬁlm careers. Later, Vallee

became a ﬁne character actor, but only Crosby managed also

to become a major star of comedies and dramas. Due to his

versatility, Crosby also built the longest and most sustained

Hollywood career of this early bunch of singer-actors, ulti-

mately opening the door for future singer-actors to become

well-rounded Hollywood performers.

The success of Bing Crosby was followed by the sensa-

tional appeal of Frank Sinatra. Thanks to Sinatra’s recording

success, he made his ﬁrst appearance in the movies in the

early 1940s and quickly became a star, working both in musi-

cals and in light romantic comedies. Ironically, when he was

nearly washed up in the early 1950s, it wasn’t his singing but

his acting in From Here to Eternity (1953) that saved his

career. He went on to regain his popularity, becoming the

ﬁrst singer-actor to direct, produce, and star in his own ﬁlm

(None But the Brave, 1965). Unfortunately, Sinatra didn’t sing

on camera in any of his ﬁlms after the 1950s.

Not all popular singers make it in the movies. Dick

Haymes, for instance, was a singer very much in the Sinatra

mold, and he was enormously popular as a recording artist.

Handsome and appealing in person, he lacked that special

screen charisma, and he never developed into a credible

motion picture actor.

Mario Lanza wasn’t a famous singer when he went to

Hollywood, but he was a notable young concert artist. His

meteoric rise and equally fast fall from grace as a star of 1950s

movie musicals was marked by at least one great performance

in the title role of The Great Caruso (1951).

While male singer-stars have received more attention,

several female band singers have used their musical fame to

break into ﬁlms, the most notable of them being Lena Horne

and Doris Day. Unfortunately, because of rampant racism in

Hollywood, Horne’s ﬁlm career was severely limited. Doris

Day, on the other hand, became a major star who, like Frank

Sinatra, ultimately passed muster as an actor but rarely sang

in her later ﬁlms. After she became a top box-ofﬁce attraction

as a romantic light comedienne, she attracted a legion of

young fans who weren’t aware that she could sing.

Each generation, from the 1930s through the 1950s, has

seen its most popular singer become a movie star. In the

1950s, Elvis Presley became the only major rock ’n’ roller to

have a long, if relatively undistinguished, movie career.

Almost all of his ﬁlms were formulaic musicals, but they were

sufﬁciently popular to continue being made for more than a

dozen years.

The only other “top-40”-style singer to have any sort of

serious movie career has been Diana Ross, who became

famous as a Motown recording star with the Supremes in the

1960s. She had the opportunity that Lena Horne was denied,

starring in a few ﬁlms, including Lady Sings the Blues (1972),

Mahogany (1976), and The Wiz (1978), the last of these fea-

turing Lena Horne in a small supporting role that stole the

movie.

Broadway was the source of the most gifted singer-actor

to come along in a very long time: Barbra Streisand. Though

she was equally an actress and a singer before hitting it big,

ﬁrst in the play and then the movie version of Funny Girl

(1968), her vocal talent was so integral to her rise that one

could hardly imagine that she would be a superstar without

that soaring, majestic voice. Nonetheless, once Streisand

became a major star of movie musicals, many of her later

ﬁlms dispensed with her singing, and she was soon regarded

as a talented comedienne and dramatic actress. Streisand also

went on to produce, direct, and star in her own musical, the

commercial hit Yentl (1983).

The country-and-western circuit was also a source of

Hollywood stars. Besides Gene Autry, who had been a mod-

est radio and recording star before becoming a famous

singing cowboy in 1930s and 1940s movies, the down-home

sound has also propelled writer-singer Kris Kristofferson to

an acting career in more recent years. Rugged and masculine,

Kristofferson rarely sang in ﬁlms, even from the outset of his

movie career.

SINGER-ACTORS

388

Kristofferson’s nonmusical acting career portended the

future of later singer-actors. Though Cher sang in her ﬁrst

ﬁlm, Good Times (1968), when she was still teamed with

Sonny Bono, her subsequent movie roles during the 1980s

were all nonsinging—by design. Having won a Best Actress

Oscar for her performance in Moonstruck (1987), one won-

ders if she might ﬁnally be willing to star in a musical.

Like Cher, pop-star Madonna has been adamant about not

singing in her ﬁlms, though she eventually relented, singing in

Dick Tracy (1990) as well as the musical Evita (1996).

Other singer-actors who have risen to popularity include

Harry Connick Jr. and Jennifer Lopez. Both have generally

kept their singing careers apart from their acting pursuits,

with the notable exception of Lopez’s performance in Selena

(1997) and Connick’s turn in TV’s ﬁlm version of Rodgers

and Hammerstein’s South Paciﬁc.

See also

AUTRY

GENE

;

CANTOR

EDDIE

;

CHEVALIER

MAURICE

;

CROSBY

BING

;

DAY

DORIS

;

THE JAZZ SINGER

;

JOL

SON

;

MUSICALS

;

PRESLEY

ELVIS

;

RACISM IN HOLLY

WOOD

;

SINATRA

FRANK

;

STREISAND

BARBRA

slapstick Physical humor consisting, for example, of

chases, pratfalls, seemingly dangerous comic collisions, and

other roughhouse antics. The term denoting this kind of

comedy is taken from a paddle—a slapstick—once used in

knockabout farces to whack the actors and make a loud,

comic noise.

Slapstick is usually considered a low-brow form of

humor, using, as it does, exaggerated depictions of characters

undergoing pain and humiliation. Archetypal slapstick gags

entail victims falling on a banana peel or being hit in the face

with a custard pie. Because the ﬁlm medium was originally

silent, humor depended on outrageous visual stunts, and

although the tradition has fallen on hard times in recent

decades, it has not altogether disappeared.

All of the great silent comics, as well as the lesser ones,

built their art out of rudimentary slapstick. Mack Sennett’s

KEYSTONE KOPS

and his other comedians practiced slapstick

in its most extreme form. Chaplin, Keaton, Lloyd, and Lang-

don, among others, all eventually practiced a more inventive

style of slapstick, adding a human element that gave their

comedy depth and their characters resonance.

Slapstick became a less-pure comedy form during the

sound era as verbal humor became possible. Comedians such

as Laurel and Hardy, the Three Stooges, and Abbott and

Costello still depended heavily on slapstick for their humor;

the Stooges, in particular, relied on hitting and slapping each

other in ever more elaborate fashion and with highly unique

sound effects. More verbal comics such as

FIELDS

Eddie Cantor, and even the Marx Brothers still relied on a

certain amount of slapstick to enliven their comedy.

Slapstick saw the continuation of its legacy in

DANNY

KAYE

’s gentle physical humor and Jerry Lewis’s raucous bum-

bling. It seemed as if it reached its apotheosis in

STANLEY

KRAMER

’s slapstick epic, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

(1963). Later comic talents, such as Mel Brooks and

WOODY

ALLEN

, despite their work’s sophistication, have cleverly

wrought a great many laughs from slapstick humor; Brooks,

in particular, has used slapstick humor in most of his ﬁlms.

Actor comedian

CHEVY CHASE

brought a touch of phys-

ical humor to the movies in such vehicles as Fletch (1985), but

perhaps the last great practitioner of the art of slapstick in

Hollywood wasn’t a star but a director. Blake Edwards

appeared to be keeping the tradition alive singlehandedly in

many of his ﬁlms, most notably in the Pink Panther movies,

10 (1979), and Blind Date (1987).

See also

ABBOTT AND COSTELLO

;

BROOKS

MEL

;

CHAP

LIN

CHARLIE

;

CUSTARD PIE

;

EDWARDS

BLAKE

;

KEATON

BUSTER

;

LAUREL AND HARDY

;

LEWIS

JERRY

;

SENNETT

MACK

;

THREE STOOGES

THE

Smith, Will (1968– ) Will Smith began his career

as a rap artist and has since gone on to enjoy a meteoric rise

to superstardom. Smith was born in Philadelphia on Sep-

tember 25, 1968, to middle-class parents. He began rap-

ping at age 12 and with fellow rapper Jeff Townes

performed as DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. The duo

won a Grammy for “He’s the D.J., I’m the Rapper.” Smith

continued the “Fresh Prince” persona when he starred in

television’s The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, a sitcom that aired for

six years.

Smith made his big screen debut in Where the Day Takes

Yo u (1992), a teen drama about homelessness. He next

appeared in Made in America (1993) as the friend of Whoopi

Goldberg and Ted Danson’s daughter. His breakthrough role

came later that year in an adaptation of John Guare’s play Six

Degrees of Separation. Smith demonstrated his dramatic tal-

ents as a homosexual con man who lies his way into the affec-

tions of a wealthy couple played by Stockard Channing and

DONALD SUTHERLAND

. Smith drew critical applause for his

performance, but next turned to the genre that would make

him a household name—action.

Smith teamed with Martin Lawrence in the surprise hit

Bad Boys (1995), a buddy cop ﬁlm set in Miami that proved

his charm as a box-ofﬁce draw and spawned a sequel, Bad Boys

2 (2003). The shift to action ﬁlms proved to be a good one.

In 1996 Smith played a heroic ﬁghter pilot in Independence

Day, a massive summer blockbuster that swept audiences

worldwide. He followed it with another science-ﬁction out-

ing, pairing with

TOMMY LEE JONES

in Men in Black (1997)

and placing another box-ofﬁce hit under his belt. The two

leads returned for a sequel, Men in Black 2, in 2002.

After returning to music to release the album Big Willy

Style, Smith costarred with

GENE HACKMAN

in the action-

thriller Enemy of the State (1998). The next year he appeared

in the critically panned Wild Wild West, starring with Kevin

Kline and Kenneth Branagh in an overblown adaptation of

the once-popular television series. Smith then took on a qui-

eter role in Robert Redford’s The Legend of Bagger Vance

(2000), about a mysterious golf guru. Though his part was

relatively small, Smith earned praise for his performance.

Perhaps Will Smith’s biggest role to date, however, was that

of Muhammad Ali in

MICHAEL MANN

’s Ali (2001), in which

Smith proved that he could do serious work without resorting

SMITH, WILL

389

to comedy tricks or action special effects. This was perhaps the

role Will Smith was born to play, since Muhammad Ali was

known for his impish verbal glibness, not unlike that of Smith

as a young rapper. Smith’s performance was a masterpiece of

imitation and inﬂection and garnered an Oscar nomination.

Combining glibness with style, sophistication, and

charm, Smith has emerged as one of Hollywood’s preeminent

young stars.

Snipes, Wesley (1962– ) Although he was born in

Orlando, Florida, Wesley Snipes spent much of his child-

hood in the South Bronx, New York City. He attended the

High School for the Performing Arts and later graduated

from the artsy State University of New York at Purchase.

Shortly after graduation in 1985, he played a part in Wildcats

(1986), which starred

GOLDIE HAWN

as a high school foot-

ball coach. The athletic Snipes, who is adept at the martial

arts, went from football to boxing (Streets of Gold, 1986) to

baseball (Major League, 1989) and The Fan (1996), in which

he played the baseball star stalked by fan

ROBERT DE NIRO

Snipes ﬁrst attained a following when he appeared in

“Bad,” Michael Jackson’s 1987 music video; he played a gang

leader threatening Jackson. Three years later, he was in King

of New York, a ﬁlm about a drug czar. That same year, direc-

tor Spike Lee cast him in his Mo’ Better Blues. Snipes was the

vicious drug lord in Mario Van Peebles’s New Jack City in

1991. At this point in his career, Snipes had appeared only as

athletes or gangsters, but Spike Lee gave him an entirely dif-

ferent role in Jungle Fever (1991), in which he is a middle-

class architect who is romantically involved with a white

woman. His ﬁrst comedy, White Men Can’t Jump (1992), a

basketball story with Woody Harrelson, took him back to the

world of athletics but also gave him the chance to showcase

his comedic talents. In The Waterdance (1992), he went in a

different direction, playing a paraplegic.

His ﬁrst real action ﬁlm was Passenger 57 (1993), in which

he demonstrated his martial-arts prowess, and that same year,

he was in a buddy action ﬁlm with

SEAN CONNERY

: Rising

Sun, about contrasting Japanese and American corporate

styles. Martial arts were featured again in 1993’s Demolition

Man, in which Snipes played a science-ﬁction villain out to

get

SYLVESTER STALLONE

. Snipes was nominated for a Best

Villain Award by MTV. It was back to Harlem with Sugar

Hill (1994), but in 1995, he was cast against type as a drag

queen in To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.

When he and Woody Harrelson were reunited in Money

Train (1995), the chemistry between the two couldn’t save the

ﬁlm, but Snipes received a Best Actor Award at the Venice

Film Festival for his role in One Night Stand (1997), though the

ﬁlm did not fare well at the box ofﬁce. It was not until U.S.

Marshals (1998), when he was teamed with Tommy Lee Jones,

that Snipes got back on track (the ﬁlm grossed $57 million).

The pair were so good together that they were nominated for

a Favorite Duo Award by Blockbuster Entertainment. That

same year, Snipes starred in and produced the ﬁlm adaptation

of Maya Angelou’s Down in the Delta and starred in the block-

buster hit Blade ($70 million), in which he played a black

superhero taking on an assortment of vampires. Success breeds

sequels; Blade II (2002) was another hit ($81 million).

Snipes continued to kick butt in the movies and at the box

ofﬁce with The Art of War (2000), impressing some critics

who thought that he had managed to combine the James

Bond persona with Shaft. Submerged in a swamp of stereo-

types, Snipes made this B-movie potboiler successful to the

tune of $30 million.

Soderbergh, Steven (1963– ) In a relatively short

time Steven Soderbergh has emerged as an outstanding ﬁlm-

maker, one who directs, photographs, and scripts his ﬁlms. At

age 26 he was the youngest director to win the Palme d’Or at

the Cannes Film Festival for his movie sex, lies, and videotape

(1989). Though he has gone on to make some ﬂops, they are

outweighed by his box-ofﬁce hits and critical successes.

Born in Atlanta, Georgia, on January 14, 1963, he spent

his youth in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where his father served

as dean of Louisiana State University’s College of Education.

Steven was interested in ﬁlm while he was in high school and

enrolled in a LSU ﬁlm animation class. Using secondhand

equipment, he shot some short 16mm ﬁlms, including “Jani-

tor” (1978). After graduating from high school he went to

Hollywood. There he worked for a short time as a freelance

editor before returning home to continue writing screenplays

and making short ﬁlms. His documentary about the rock

group Yes secured him the chance to do a full-length concert

SNIPES, WESLEY

390

Wesley Snipes in Sugar Hill (1994) (PHOTO COURTESY

TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX.)

ﬁlm about the band. This ﬁlm, 9012 Live, was nominated for

a Grammy in 1986.

Soderbergh then made “Winston,” a short ﬁlm about sex-

ual games that later became the feature ﬁlm sex, lies, and

videotape (1989). In addition to the Palme d’Or, Soderbergh

won an Oscar nomination for his screenplay. His horror ﬁlm

Kafka (1991), which starred Jeremy Irons, was bleak and dis-

appointing; but his King of the Hill (1993), while a box-ofﬁce

disappointment, was a critical success. The ﬁlm was a depres-

sion-era coming-of-age story based on writer A. E. Hotch-

ner’s childhood. Another independent ﬁlm, The Underneath

(1995), won praise for its cinematography. The movie was a

ﬁlm noir involving a love triangle and a big heist. In 1996 the

director made two ﬁlms, one, Gray’s Anatomy, a ﬁlmed per-

formance of a Spalding Gray monologue about his rare eye

disease; the other, Schizopolis, about communication.

Soderbergh’s 1998 ﬁlm, Out of Sight, adapted from

Elmore Leonard’s novel and starring George Clooney and

JENNIFER LOPEZ

, demonstrated his reawakening and received

critical acclaim as well as succeeding at the box ofﬁce. After

making The Limey (1999) with Terence Stamp, another criti-

cal success, Soderbergh scored a big hit with Erin Brockovich

(2000), starring

JULIA ROBERTS

, whose character uncovers an

environmental scandal and wins big bucks for the victims,

Trafﬁc, which was shot in seven cities and had 100 speaking

parts, also turned into a hit, but was a much more serious ﬁlm.

Starring

MICHAEL DOUGLAS

, the ﬁlm took a hard look at

America’s so-called war on drugs. Soderbergh did the cine-

matography under the alias “Peter Andrews,” using a hand-

held camera and natural lighting. He received Oscar

nominations for both ﬁlms and won the Oscar for Trafﬁc.

The ﬁlmmaker’s 2001 remake of Ocean’s Eleven (1960) was

a rarity in that it was better than the 1960 original, and it gave

Soderbergh another money-making hit. Later that year he

teamed with George Clooney, who had starred in Ocean’s

Eleven, to create Section Eight, a production company, and he

also formed a directors’ company at USA Films with fellow

directors Spike Jonze, David Fincher, and Alexander Payne.

Soderbergh’s most recent efforts, however, have been dis-

appointing. His remake of the Russian cult science-ﬁction

classic Solaris (2002) bombed despite the presence of star

George Clooney. Reuniting with Julia Roberts, the ﬁlmmaker

also released Full Frontal (2002), shot in 18 days for $2 million

in the experimental Dogme 95 style. The ﬁlm managed to

earn back the cost of its production, but little more. Taking a

respite from the big screen, Soderbergh then turned to pro-

ducing K Street, a political drama series for cable television.

soft focus A cinematography technique that uses diffused

lighting to make images less distinct on ﬁlm. Diffusion ﬁlters

placed in front of lamps, as well as earlier makeshift diffusers

such as gauze and vaseline placed on a camera lens, reduce

harsh shadows and can soften the facial features of actors

being photographed. Soft focus has long been a trick of cin-

ematographers who must shoot aging movie actors without

revealing their lined and wrinkled faces. In addition, soft

focus has often been used to create dreamy, romantic effects.

sound Without question, the most revolutionary develop-

ment in the history of the motion picture industry was the

invention and commercialization of the “talkies.” The wed-

ding of sound to ﬁlm, however, was not an entirely new

development when Al Jolson proclaimed, “You ain’t heard

nothin’ yet,” in the ﬁrst talking and singing sound feature,

The Jazz Singer (1927).

Experiments and patents had waxed and waned for nearly

30 years before the talkies became a reality. Outside the

United States, ﬁlmmakers such as the Italian Leopold Fregoli

provided sound tracks for his movies by speaking and making

sound effects from behind the projection screen. As James L.

Limbacher reports in his excellent study, Four Aspects of the

Film, this technique was practiced all over the world and was

used for such American ﬁlms as Uncle Tom’s Cabin (1910) and

THE BIRTH OF A NATION

(1915).

The mechanical age, however, was in full swing during

the early 20th century, and inventors plied their trade in the

hope of bringing sound more fully to the movies. One such

invention was Laurie Dickson’s Kinetophone, created in

1889 for

THOMAS A

EDISON

. A forerunner of the Walkman,

the Kinetophone was designed with earplugs. A phonograph

machine synchronized to a Kinetoscope, the Kinetophone

was perfected just as the peep show era ended. A tragic ﬁre

destroyed the Edison complex in 1914 and continued devel-

opment of the Kinetophone was abandoned. Edison had

never been a strong believer in talking motion pictures; had

he felt differently, the talkie revolution might have come con-

siderably earlier.

Other inventions came and went, such as Cameraphone,

Synchronophone, and Vi-T-Phone, but the big breakthrough

was the invention of Phonokinema that was used for

GRIFFITH

’s Dream Street (1921). The ﬁlm was a hit and so was

the process, which was somewhat similar to Edison’s original

Kinetophone (e.g., dialogue and music recorded on a phono-

graph record and synchronized to the motion picture), except

that in this case, earplugs were not necessary. According to

Limbacher, “everyone had thought the ‘talkies’ had arrived,

but lack of ﬁnancial backing and Grifﬁth’s philosophy that

sound ﬁlms would only conﬁne the movies to English-speak-

ing people caused the entire idea to be abandoned.”

It was, of course, the sound-on-disc system developed by

Western Electric for Warner Bros. that ﬁnally launched the

talkies. Warner Bros. began to use the sound-on-disc system

to present short subjects as early as 1926, recording a great

many famous vaudeville acts. It was the “all talking, all

singing” feature-length ﬁlm The Jazz Singer (1927), however,

that signaled the start of a new era.

Unfortunately, sound-on-disc was a fallible system that,

like Phonokinema, relied on the perfect synchronization of a

moving picture with a separate phonograph recording of

music and dialogue. Ironically, Warner Bros. created a revo-

lution with the wrong invention. Sound-on-disc was soon

replaced by a sound-on-ﬁlm process that was based on the

Movietone system developed at Fox.

Movietone grew out of the Phonoﬁlm system that was

developed as early as 1924. In fact, Fox shot several scenes with

this new sound system for Retribution (1926), a feature-length

SOUND

391

ﬁlm. Only partially shot with sound, the movie did not

receive much fanfare at the time. In addition, William Fox

did not (at ﬁrst) see the full potential of the invention and

merely used it for his Fox Movietone Newsreels in 1927. By

the end of the 1920s, however, the Movietone sound-on-ﬁlm

process, by which sound signals are imprinted on a portion

of the ﬁlm known as the sound track, came to be the stan-

dard for the industry. It is essentially the same process that is

used today.

See also

THE JAZZ SINGER

;

JOLSON

;

SCREEN

;

SOUND

TRACK

;

WARNER BROS

sound track If you hold the emulsion side of a strip of

sound ﬁlm toward you, the sound track can be found on the

left side of the frame: it is made up of jagged lines not unlike

the tracks in a phonograph record. Called “optical record-

ings,” motion picture sound tracks are converted from elec-

trical recordings into such jagged lines. When a ﬁlm is

projected, a beam of light is directed at the sound track and

is modulated into varying intensities as it passes through the

track. The changing light patterns activate a photocell or

“sound head,” within the movie projector, which then con-

verts the light into electricity, which in turn activates a loud-

speaker. The sound track is usually divided into four speciﬁc

tracks, one each for dialogue, music, sound effects, and the

fourth for whatever extra sound might be needed (essentially

a reserve track).

The sound that one hears when a film is projected is not

printed on the frame next to the image. Each frame of a film

reaches the picture gate at a different time than it passes

next to the sound head. Therefore, in order to synchronize

sound and image, the sound is printed 26 frames ahead of

the corresponding image on 16mm film, and 20 frames on

35mm film.

Another deﬁnition of the term sound track refers to the

record album made from the musical score of a ﬁlm.

Spacek, Sissy (1949– ) An open-faced, innocent-

looking character actress who came to prominence during

the 1970s and has been a star ever since. Spacek’s choice of

roles has been limited by a Texas twang to her voice, but she

has excelled in playing southern girls and women in every-

thing from musical biopics to comedies and from psycholog-

ical studies to horror.

Born Mary Elizabeth Spacek, she studied at the Actors

Studio, which perhaps accounts for her natural and appar-

ently effortless acting style. She made her ﬁlm debut in a sup-

porting role in Prime Cut (1972) and received major critical

attention the following year for her performance in Badlands

(1973). It was 1976, though, before the public joined the crit-

ics in appreciation of her talents, when she played the title

character in

BRIAN DE PALMA

’s hit shocker, Carrie.

Spacek seemed unable to immediately capitalize on the

success of Carrie and starred in several off-beat ﬁlms that

were not successes. After a modest role in Welcome to L.A.

(1977), a starring part in

ROBERT ALTMAN

’s much-admired

art-circuit hit Three Women (1977), and the female lead in the

disappointing Heart Beat (1979), she ﬁnally hit it big playing

Loretta Lynn in the

BIOPIC

Coal Miner’s Daughter (1980).

The ﬁlm was a box-ofﬁce sensation and Spacek won both

critical huzzahs and a Best Actress Academy Award.

Her husband, art director Jack Fisk, made his directorial

debut putting Spacek through her paces in Raggedy Man

(1981), a ﬁlm that garnered generally good reviews but only

modest audience support. Missing (1982) was one of her major

hits of the 1980s, but the movie really belonged to

JACK LEM

MON

. Except for her Oscar-nominated performance in the

ﬁlm version of Beth Henley’s Pulitzer Prize–winning play,

Crimes of the Heart (1986), Spacek did not have a major hit

during the rest of the 1980s, despite good work in such ﬁlms

as The River (1984), Marie (1985), Violets Are Blue (1986), and

The Long Walk Home (1989).

During the 1990s, Spacek devoted time to rearing her

children, though she continued to appear in ﬁlms. She was in

OLIVER STONE

’s controversial JFK (1991) but then turned to

television and cable ﬁlms, especially those dealing with

women’s issues. She returned to the big screen in 1997 as the

girlfriend of sheriff Nick Nolte in Afﬂiction, a ﬁlm that was

critically acclaimed. However, not even her role as the parent

of a child raised in a bomb shelter in Blast from the Past (1998)

prepared audiences for her Oscar-nominated performance as

the traumatized parent intent on exacting “justice” on the

murderer of her son in In the Bedroom (2001). In 2002, Spacek

made two ﬁlms, Tuck Everlasting, a Disney product about a

teenager forced to make tough choices, and Verna: The USO

Girl, a television adaptation of a play about a USO girl

(Spacek) and an American soldier stationed in Belgium.

Spacey, Kevin (1959– ) Kevin Spacey is an actor’s

actor, an artist capable of disappearing into his roles, as bril-

liantly illustrated in his noir-nasty performance for The Usual

Suspects (1995). He started in the theater and did not jump to

cinema until he was almost 30 years old.

Kevin Spacey Fowler was born in South Orange, New

Jersey, and his father’s job as a technical writer took the fam-

ily all over the country. They ﬁnally settled in southern Cal-

ifornia, where Kevin proved to be a bit of a problem. After

being sent to the Northridge Military Academy, he was soon

expelled for attacking a classmate. Subsequently enrolled at

Chatsworth High School, he was active in the theater, play-

ing Captain von Trapp in The Sound of Music his senior year.

After a short period at Los Angeles Valley College, he left

and enrolled in the drama program at Juilliard. Two years

later, he left Juilliard and went to work with the New York

Shakespeare Festival. In 1981, he appeared in Henry VI and

the next year made his Broadway debut in Ibsen’s Ghosts. He

would later star onstage in David Rabe’s Hurlyburly (he also

appeared in the ﬁlm adaptation of 1998),

NEIL SIMON

’s Lost

in Yonkers (he won a Tony Award in 1991 for his performance

as Uncle Louie in that play), and Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s

Journey into Night, for which he received a Tony nomination.

Spacey’s ﬁlm career began with Heartburn (1986), in

which he played a subway thief. The role, however, that ﬁrst

SOUND TRACK

392

brought him wide public attention was Mel Proﬁtt in The

Wise Guys television series. He went on to specialize in

“heavy” roles as a character actor: He played a sadistic Hol-

lywood executive in Swimming with Sharks (1994), for exam-

ple, and he played the unforgettable and aptly named Verbal

Kint in The Usual Suspects (1995), winning a Best Supporting

Actor Academy Award for that role.

Spacey was particularly distinctive as Williamson, the

ofﬁce sales manager, in James Foley’s ﬁlm adaptation of

DAVID MAMET

’s Glengarry Glen Ross (1992), more than able

to hold his own against the scene-stealing talents of

JACK

LEMMON

and

AL PACINO

. Arguably, Spacey is at his best in

small ensemble pictures, such as The Big Kahuna (1999),

adapted by Roger Reuff from his play Hospitality Suite, a

satire in which Spacey played another salesman, this time

pitching products at a conference in Wichita, Kansas.

But Spacey is no doubt best known for his performances

in much bigger pictures, such as American Beauty (1999),

playing Lester Burnham, a burnt-out midlevel advertising

executive who tries to cope with a dysfunctional family and

his own midlife crisis. Spacey had found the perfect role here,

as was evident by his awesome performance, which won him

an Academy Award as Best Actor. In 1995, Spacey won the

New York Film Critics award as Best Supporting Actor and

the MTV Movie Award as Best Villain for his performance in

David Fincher’s Se7en, playing a serial killer obsessed by the

seven deadly sins.

In 1996, Spacey directed his ﬁrst feature, Albino Alligator,

concerning a bungled robbery by small-time crooks. That

same year, he played Buckingham and himself in Al Pacino’s

meditation on Shakespeare’s Richard III, Looking for Richard.

He played the smooth-talking host accused of murder in

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (1997), directed by

CLINT EASTWOOD

. Thereafter, Spacey’s roles grew even

larger: He costarred with

SAMUEL L

JACKSON

in The Nego-

tiator (1998) and played the “negotiator” of the title; in L.A.

Conﬁdential (1997), Spacey played another detective, Jack

Vincennes, the lead character in Curtis Hanson’s neo-noir

thriller set in the 1950s.

After 1999’s American Beauty, his ﬁlm career began to

sputter: He costarred with Helen Hunt and childstar Haley

Joel Osment in Pay It Forward (2000), a gentle movie directed

by Mimi Leder that grossed only slightly more than $30 mil-

lion. Spacey also starred in K-PAX (2001), an alien-visitation

movie, with Spacey playing both the friendly alien and the

human being whose body it inhabits. Though the plot strains

credulity, Spacey’s performance did not. Nonetheless, it was

neither a critical nor a commercial success. Spacey played

Quoyle, the lead character in the ﬁlm adaptation of Annie

Proulx’s Pulitzer Prize–winning novel, The Shipping News

(2001), as a man who has to come to terms with his family’s

past in Newfoundland. The movie was a ﬂop, but Spacey

earned nominations as Best Actor from the British Academy

(BAFTA) and the Golden Globes.

special effects In its broadest ﬁlm deﬁnition, any visual

effects not achieved through the use of conventional cine-

matography. In the silent era, many of the photographic

effects that we take for granted today, such as the fade in and

fade out, were considered special effects. As special effects

have become considerably more sophisticated, the term

tends to be used to describe “tricks” that are fairly elaborate

and complicated.

There are three basic types of special effects: those that

are accomplished “in the camera,” those that are achieved

through laboratory processes (i.e., in the printing), and those

that are a combination of the ﬁrst two.

An example of an “in-the-camera” special effects is the

glass shot, in which one section of a glass plate is painted to

simulate part of a scene. The painting represents what might

otherwise be an expensive set or location shot. The painting

is then photographed along with the actors and/or action in

the unpainted portion of the glass plate, leaving the effect that

the action is taking place in the midst of a realistic milieu.

An example of a special effect that can be accomplished “in

the lab” is a traveling matte, which combines into one image

shots that are ﬁlmed in the studio with those that are ﬁlmed on

location. The combination of the two approaches is in evi-

dence whenever back projection or front projection are used.

Special effects are used in most ﬁlms, although they can

be found in greatest abundance in horror, fantasy, and sci-

ence-ﬁction movies. Throughout much of Hollywood’s early

history, there was hardly a better example of the use of spe-

cial effects than King Kong (1933), which used miniatures to

create the great ape. In the 1950s, when special effects were

widely used in the burgeoning science-ﬁction genre, the state

of the art was represented by The War of the Worlds (1953),

which won an Oscar in that category. Stanley Kubrick’s 2001:

A Space Odyssey (1968) brought a new interest in special

effects, but it was George Lucas’s Star Wars (1977) that set

the standard for excellence through the use of miniatures,

optical printing, and many other devices that were newly cre-

ated to make the movie as realistic as possible.

Lucas’s special effects company, Industrial Light and

Magic, now hires out its services to other ﬁlmmakers. Many

ﬁlms, however, neither create nor subcontract their special

effects; instead they simply borrow them already on ﬁlm, for

a modest fee, from a special-effects library. It’s for this reason

you may think you saw the same building collapse in two dif-

ferent movies.

See also

BACK PROJECTION

;

LUCAS

GEORGE

;

MONSTER

MOVIES

;

SCIENCE FICTION

;

STAR WARS

Spiegel, Sam (1901–1985) Also known as S. P. Eagle,

he was the consummate independent producer. Though he

worked in ﬁlms from 1927 until his death, he had his great-

est success during the 1950s and early 1960s when three of

his ﬁlms won Best Picture Oscars.

Born in what was then Jaroslau, Austria (later, Poland),

Spiegel’s early life was nomadic; he spent part of his youth in

Palestine and then came to Hollywood at the age of 26 to

work as a story translator. A quick study, he learned enough

about the ﬁlm business to travel back to Europe and produce

foreign-language versions of Hollywood ﬁlms for

UNIVERSAL

SPIEGEL, SAM

393

PICTURES

. When Hitler came to power in 1933, Spiegel

went on the run, producing ﬁlms elsewhere in Western

Europe before arriving in America in 1935.

Using the name S. P. Eagle to sound both more patriotic

and less ethnic, Spiegel began to produce such ﬁlms as Tales

of Manhattan (1942),

ORSON WELLES

in The Stranger (1946),

and We Were Strangers (1949).

With the rise of independent producers during the 1950s,

Spiegel came into his own with such major hits as The African

Queen (1952), the Oscar-winning On the Waterfront (1954),

for which he used his original name in the credits for the ﬁrst

time in America, the Oscar-winning The Bridge on the River

Kwai (1957), Suddenly Last Summer (1959), and the Oscar-

winning Lawrence of Arabia (1962).

Spiegel’s ﬁlms were as artistically ambitious during his

later years, but they did not often enjoy the same box-ofﬁce

success. He began to back movies that fell somewhere

between the commercial and art-house categories, thereby

losing the audiences of both; this was the case with The Chase

(1966) and The Happening (1967). Spiegel landed more ﬁrmly

in the commercial camp with The Night of the Generals (1966),

and his last full-blown epic, Nicholas and Alexandra (1971).

But he also scored quite impressively, at least with the critics,

with the cult favorite The Swimmer (1968), starring

BURT

LANCASTER

and based on a story by John Cheever.

Spiegel’s production fell off in the 1970s and early 1980s.

He did, however, make a credible attempt at bringing F. Scott

Fitzgerald’s The Last Tycoon to the screen in 1976, and his ver-

sion of Harold Pinter’s Betrayal (1982) was extremely well

received by the critics and art-house audiences.

Spiegel was honored by his peers in 1963 with the Irving

Thalberg Award for “outstanding motion picture production.”

Spielberg, Steven (1947– ) As both a director and a

producer, he is an extraordinary modern-Hollywood suc-

cess story. Spielberg is a baby boomer whose films reflect

both the tender warmth and clear-eyed innocence of child-

hood. In fact, a large percentage of Spielberg’s films—both

those he has directed and those he has produced—have

children as their protagonists or as significant supporting

players. As a director, Spielberg has demonstrated a vivid

visual style, but more importantly, he has been a consum-

mate strategist, marshaling script, music, acting, special

effects, editing, set design, and so on into an astonishing

streak of intelligent, entertaining, and enormously success-

ful motion pictures.

Born in Cincinnati, Ohio, and raised in Phoenix, Arizona,

Spielberg was the product of a broken home. He funneled his

energies into the movies, making his ﬁrst ﬁlm when he was

12 years old—an 8mm western lasting a little more than

three minutes with a budget of $10. He made several other

ﬁlms while a teenager, each more ambitious than the one

before. By the age of 16 he had made Firelight, a two-hour-

and-20-minute 8mm science ﬁction spectacular made on a

budget of $500.

Contrary to popular belief, Spielberg was not part of the

new wave of “ﬁlm-school directors,” which includes

FRANCIS

FORD COPPOLA

GEORGE LUCAS

, and

MARTIN SCORSESE

Spielberg, a poor student, broke into Hollywood when a pro-

ducer backed his 20-minute short, Amblin’ (1969). Universal

was so impressed with the young man’s work that he was

signed to a seven-year contract by the studio when he was

just 21. Spielberg later named his production company

Amblin’ in recognition of his big break.

It seemed as if the young director simply appeared out of

nowhere when he had his ﬁrst major ﬁlm successes, but in

fact he served his apprenticeship working in television. He

was responsible for directing several TV movies, including

the highly regarded Duel (1971) and Something Evil (1972), as

well as episodes of TV series such as Columbo, Night Gallery,

and others.

Spielberg’s opportunity to direct feature ﬁlms came when

Duel was turned into a theatrical release in Europe and

became both a critical and a box-ofﬁce hit. His ﬁrst movie

was the acclaimed The Sugarland Express (1974). This down-

beat story starring

GOLDIE HAWN

failed miserably at the box

ofﬁce, but by the time that had happened, he had already

begun to ﬁlm the suspense ﬁlm Jaws (1975), the movie that

was to catapult him into the directorial stratosphere, a height

from which he has yet to descend.

Jaws became the biggest money-maker in Hollywood his-

tory until it was overtaken by a number of other ﬁlms, some

of them Spielberg creations. Though Jaws was a well done,

suspenseful action ﬁlm, Spielberg’s next movie, Close Encoun-

ters of the Third Kind (1977), was much closer in feeling to the

director’s heart. His personal vision, combining a sense of

optimism and an interest in the way children view the world—

a theme that predominates in his movies—was eloquently set

to ﬁlm. The movie was a critical and commercial hit, solidify-

ing the young director’s place among the directorial elite. His

place was so secure, in fact, that it withstood the big-budget

bust of his 1941 (1979), a comedy that was more awe inspir-

ing for its special effects than laugh inducing. He got back on

track, however, when he made Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981), a

massive success at the ticket windows and a charming throw-

back to movie serials of the 1930s. His sequel, Indiana Jones

and the Temple of Doom (1984), wasn’t quite as good nor as suc-

cessful as the original but was still a major hit. The third (and

supposedly ﬁnal) installment in the series was the critical and

box-ofﬁce smash Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989).

Between the making of his three Indiana Jones ﬁlms, Spiel-

berg made E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982). The movie was the

perfect blend of innocence and adventure, without evil villains,

sex, violence, or even knock-out special effects, but it had more

than its share of heart and humor, making it the most com-

mercially successful movie in Hollywood history.

Since the mid-1980s, Spielberg has taken on directorial

projects with an eye toward more creativity. He had the clout

to adapt the Alice Walker novel The Color Purple (1985) and

turn it into a hit, but the Academy of Motion Picture Arts

and Sciences neglected to nominate him for a Best Director

Oscar, raising a number of eyebrows in the Hollywood com-

munity. The academy was silent yet again, after he made the

highly regarded Empire of the Sun (1987). Some whispered

that the academy was too envious of Spielberg’s incredible

SPIELBERG, STEVEN

394

ﬁnancial success to honor him further with an Oscar. The cli-

mate would change six years later.

In any event, the huge sums of money Spielberg has

earned have allowed him to make whatever movies he might

choose, in whatever capacity he chooses. His golden touch at

the box ofﬁce has been just as strong when he has produced

ﬁlms as when he has directed them. Although Spielberg

started off as a producer with amusing commercial ﬂops such

as I Wanna Hold Your Hand (1978), Used Cars (1980), and Con-

tinental Divide (1981), he soon began to produce hit after hit

with ﬁlms such as Poltergeist (1982), Gremlins (1984), and The

Goonies (1985). As big as these ﬁlms were at the box ofﬁce,

though, they could not match the success of Back to the Future

(1985), which Spielberg produced, and Who Framed Roger

Rabbit? (1988), which he coproduced; each ﬁlm earned in

excess of $100 million in ticket sales.

Spielberg was married to actress Amy Irving from 1985 to

1989; they separated amicably. Two years later, the director

married another actress, Kate Capshaw, and that same year

directed a very personal adaptation of Peter Pan called Hook

(1991), an amusing diversion starring

ROBIN WILLIAMS

DUSTIN HOFFMAN

, and

JULIA ROBERTS

. But bigger events

were on the horizon in 1993, the year that deﬁned Spielberg

both as a blockbuster director and as an auteur. Jurassic Park,

adapted from Michael Crichton’s popular novel, might be

considered the ultimate Spielberg scare machine, had it not

been preceded by Jaws. It was an allegory populated by cloned

dinosaurs resulting from an insane experiment on an isolated

island whose strangely obsessed owner (played by Sir Richard

Attenborough) intended to turn into a theme park. The

entertaining ﬁlm made a fortune. But Spielberg followed it by

another “personal” project adapted from a far more serious

novel by Thomas Keneally, with a heavyweight cast led by

Liam Neeson, Ben Kingsley, and Ralph Fiennes. Schindler’s

List was released on December 15, 1993, perfectly positioned

for Academy Award attention, which was, predictably, show-

ered upon it. Even critics cynical about the popular block-

buster success of Jurassic Park were unable to deny the power

of this moving Holocaust ﬁlm, shot in black and white on

location in Poland and Germany. Spielberg channeled his

proﬁts into the Shoah Foundation, dedicated to preserving

oral history accounts and elevating Holocaust awareness.

Thus empowered by these successes, Spielberg ﬂexed his

muscles professionally in 1994 by forming a new ﬁlm-and-tel-

evision studio, Dreamworks SKG, with Jeffrey Katzenberg and

David Geffen; he then directed one of his studio’s ﬁrst major

ﬁlms, Amistad (1997), dramatizing a historic rebellion on a slave

ship. His next ﬁlm was a Dreamworks/Paramount coproduc-

tion, Saving Private Ryan (1998), a World War II story starring

TOM HANKS

, which set the bar higher for movie realism in its

representation of the D-day landings on Omaha Beach. Private

Ryan won Spielberg his second Oscar for directing.

Private Ryan was followed by another odd diversion when

STANLEY KUBRICK

called on Spielberg to direct a project that

he believed required the Spielberg “touch,” a Pinocchio fable

set in a dystopian future entitled A.I.: Artiﬁcial Intelligence

(2001). Spielberg wrote the screenplay from an eight-page

sketch written by Brian Aldiss from his own source story and

directed the ﬁlm as well, earning a Golden Globe in 2002 for

his efforts. A.I. was regarded as a serious and visually masterful

cautionary tale. This odd Spielberg–Kubrick collaboration was

undertaken largely as a tribute to Stanley Kubrick, who died at

the age of 70 in 1999, but some critics did not believe that the

styles and sensibilities of the two directors meshed ideally.

Even if A.I. fell short of recovering its costs (though it grossed

more than $78 million), it in no way damaged Spielberg’s rep-

utation as a hit-maker. He is the 21st-century equivalent to the

20th century entrepreneurship of

WALT DISNEY

and he is

probably the most recognizable director of his generation.

Spielberg released two ﬁlms in 2003. The science-ﬁction

crime thriller Minority Report starred

TOM CRUISE

and a

remarkable array of stunning special effects. Unfortunately,

its muddied, illogical story and hackneyed conclusion kept it

from being the genre classic it could have been. Catch Me If

You Can, featuring

LEONARDO DICAPRIO

, a decidedly lighter

movie, was far more successful, giving Spielberg a chance to

do what he does best: delve into Americana.

See also

FORD

HARRISON

;

LUCAS

GEORGE

;

ZANUCK

–

BROWN

sports ﬁlms Along with the growth of professional sports

came a greater awareness by ﬁlmmakers of both the com-

mercial and cinematic potential of making movies set in an

athletic milieu. Sports movies are a natural for the ﬁlm indus-

try because athletic contests are inherently dramatic.

A serious obstacle to sports ﬁlms, however, is the inabil-

ity to match the excitement of real competition. Why watch

a movie about boxing when you can go to a boxing match?

That challenge has been met by making movies that go

beyond the sport to an inside story of athletic life—some-

times truthfully, sometimes with a large dose of fantasy.

SPORTS FILMS

395

There have been sports movies dealing with almost every

conceivable athletic endeavor, but the boxing ﬁlm remains

the champion. Seen here are Anthony Quinn and Mickey

Rooney in a still from one of the more serious boxing

movies, Requiem for a Heavyweight (1962).

(PHOTO

COURTESY OF ANTHONY QUINN PRODUCTIONS)

Sports ﬁlms have traditionally been geared to the male

audience, but they have been most successful at the box ofﬁce

when male sex symbols play leading roles or when love sto-

ries are included, thereby luring women into theaters.

Of all sports ﬁlms, movies about the world of boxing have

been the most numerous and the most successful. The drama

of two men battling it out in front of a cheering crowd is

utterly cinematic and easy to follow, whether one is a boxing

fan or not. The Champ (1931) was an early boxing ﬁlm and a

huge hit. Its power at the ticket window was demonstrated

anew when it was remade in 1979. The 1930s and 1940s saw

a proliferation of boxing movies, among the most famous Kid

Galahad (1937, remade as a musical in 1962 with

ELVIS PRES

LEY

in the title role), Golden Boy (1939), City for Conquest

(1940), Gentleman Jim (1942), and Champion (1949). The

1950s saw Somebody Up There Likes Me (1956), the story of

Rocky Graziano. But with the rise of black boxing champions,

Hollywood betrayed its racist attitudes by giving little atten-

tion to the genre in the 1960s and the ﬁrst half of the 1970s.

In fact, Hollywood seemed to be saying farewell to the boxing

ﬁlm by making the somber Requiem for a Heavyweight (1962).

Then came Sylvester Stallone’s sleeper hit of 1976, Rocky.

The ﬁlm galvanized interest in the sport and made Stallone a

star. Rocky has had four sequels (1979, 1982, 1985, and 1990).

The ﬁrst ones did well ﬁnancially, but the returns dwindled

with each ﬁlm, and by 1990, the well had run dry.

MARTIN

SCORSESE

’s Raging Bull (1980) was the outstanding boxing

ﬁlm of the century. Pulling no punches in its depiction of

champ Jake LaMotta, the biopic garnered awards and nomi-

nations for Scorsese,

ROBERT DE NIRO

in the title role, and

Joe Pesci as his brother. Boxing ﬁlms in the 1990s were

biopics of little interest, except for two. Ali (2001), starring

Will Smith, produced two Golden Globe nominations, one

for Smith and one for

JON VOIGHT

, who played sports

announcer Howard Cosell. The Hurricane (1999), starring

DENZEL WASHINGTON

, depicted the life of Rubin “Hurri-

cane” Carter and addressed the issue of racism.

For all the success of boxing ﬁlms, baseball was long

regarded by industry insiders as box-ofﬁce poison. America’s

favorite pastime is a team sport and has a slow pace, both of

which make it less cinematic. Nonetheless, ﬁlmmakers have

occasionally tried (and succeeded) at hitting critical and com-

mercial home runs with baseball ﬁlms. The Pride of the Yankees

(1942), a biopic adapted from Lou Gehrig’s life story, has long

been considered the greatest baseball movie of all time, and

few directors attempted to duplicate its success. However,

most baseball ﬁlms have been biopics, extolling the virtues of

famous or courageous ballplayers; among them are The Babe

Ruth Story (1948), The Stratton Story (1949), and the ﬁne exam-

ination of Jimmy Piersall’s life, Fear Strikes Out (1957). There

were even fewer baseball ﬁlms in the 1960s and 1970s as the

sport fell out of favor in relation to football, but both the sport

and the ﬁlms about it enjoyed a major resurgence in popular-

ity in the 1980s with several major box-ofﬁce winners, includ-

ing The Natural (1984), based on a novel by Bernard Malamud;

Bull Durham (1988), starring

KEVIN COSTNER

and

SUSAN

SARANDON

; and Major League (1989). Two of baseball’s best

players were the subjects of biopics in the 1990s, but they were

subjected to close scrutiny and demythologized. The Babe

(1992) depicted Babe Ruth warts and all, and Cobb (1994) pre-

sented an unﬂattering portrait of Ty Cobb as a racist, a drunk-

ard, a womanizer, and an all-around SOB.

While baseball was fading in the 1960s and 1970s, foot-

ball came of age in the movies. With its violence and inten-

sity, football garnered audience attention in a big way. Of

course, the sport had often been featured in earlier movies

such the

MARX BROTHERS

’ romp Horse Feathers (1932) and

Knute Rockne, All American (1940), but it exploded on the

screen in the 1970s in such hits as The Longest Yard (1974),

Semi-Tough (1977), and North Dallas Forty (1979). In the

1990s, audiences were exposed to more realistic ﬁlms about

the gridiron. Though the manic and obsessed high school

coach loses at the end of Varsity Blues (1998), the ﬁlm’s

emphasis is on the “win-at-any-cost” attitude in high school

sports. Any Given Sunday (1999), an

OLIVER STONE

ﬁlm,

depicts the gritty and seamy side of professional football. Of

course, there is another view, one more consistent with

American sports myths: Rudy (1993) is the true story of Rudy

Ruettiger, an undersized guy who ﬁnally gets to play; and

Remember the Titans (2000) demonstrates how sports can

improve character and resolve racial tensions.

The latter 1970s and 1980s were a golden age for sports

ﬁlms, principally due to the overwhelming success of the

Rocky movies. They spawned a host of clones set against a

variety of sports. Many of these ﬁlms were rather good,

despite their obvious contrivances. Most notable among

them are the bicycle-racing ﬁlm Breaking Away (1979), the

basketball ﬁlms One on One (1977) and Hoosiers (1986), and

the martial-arts movie The Karate Kid (1984) and its sequel,

The Karate Kid, Part II (1986), both directed by Rocky’s origi-

nal director, John G. Avildsen. Less notable was the arm-

wrestling movie Over the Top (1987), a surprisingly misguided

attempt by the progenitor of the formula, Sylvester Stallone,

and a major box-ofﬁce disaster. During the 1990s, audiences

saw several realistic ﬁlms about sports, but the really big

sports ﬁlms were comedies. Hockey had its Mighty Ducks

(1992, 1994, 1996); golf had its Tin Cup (1996); and basket-

ball had its White Men Can’t Jump (1992).

See also

STALLONE

SYLVESTER

spy movies A ﬁlm genre whose popularity generally has

been tied to national and international events. Most spy ﬁlms

are ﬁctional accounts; a relative handful have been based,

however loosely, on true stories, such as Mata Hari (1932)

with

GRETA GARBO

, The House on 92nd Street (1945), 13 Rue

Madeleine (1946), and Scandal (1989). But even when spy

movies are essentially ﬁctional, they are often inspired by real

incidents, people, or organizations, as was the case with

O.S.S. (1946). But whether or not the story or characters in a

spy movie are real, the underlying appeal of these ﬁlms lies in

their dramatization of a very real and dangerous world at the

underbelly of our so-called civilized nation-states.

Spy ﬁlms had their ﬁrst commercial success during World

War I and immediately thereafter. Spies were alternately seen

as either heroes (if they were on our side) or ﬁends (if they

SPY MOVIES

396

were on the other side). There were few truly memorable spy

movies made in Hollywood during the silent era, and even

during the 1930s, spies were rarely a hot subject in Holly-

wood and were often presented only in the most outlandish

fashion. Witness the exotic Dishonored (1931) with

MARLENE

SIETRICH

as a captured spy, putting on lipstick as she stands

before a ﬁring squad; and the

MARX BROTHERS

’ Duck Soup

(1933), with those two master spies Chico and Harpo trying

to steal war plans from Groucho in what has to be the great-

est send-up of spies ever made.

Though Hollywood wasn’t much interested in spies, the

British ﬁlm industry was, particularly

ALFRED HITCHCOCK

He was a one man spy-movie industry, directing the hits The

Man Who Knew Too Much (1934), The Thirty-Nine Steps

(1935), Secret Agent (1936), Sabotage (1937), and The Lady

Vanishes (1938). These ﬁlms were not without an audience in

the United States, but the fact that Hollywood didn’t follow

Hitchcock’s lead throughout most of the 1930s was an indi-

cation of how insulated the American ﬁlm industry was from

the realities of a world heading into war. It wasn’t until 1939

that the American ﬁlm industry produced a riveting spy

thriller, Confessions of a Nazi Spy, and even then it was consid-

ered a rather courageous statement.

Once America entered World War II, however, the ﬁlm

factories began to crank out spy ﬁlms, with Hitchcock (now

in America) leading the way with Foreign Correspondent

(1940). Others followed, such as All Through the Night (1942),

Across the Paciﬁc (1942), Ministry of Fear (1945), and Conﬁden-

tial Agent (1945).

After the war, Hollywood continued to turn out its fair

share of spy ﬁlms. In fact, many of the spy movies made near

the end of the war and in the later 1940s were far more sin-

ister than those made during the conﬂict, possibly because

the studios had been afraid of panicking their customers. In

any event, dark, paranoid spy thrillers joined the ﬁlm noir

ranks in the latter half of the 1940s, with titles including

Cloak and Dagger (1946), Hitchcock’s Notorious (1946), and

Spy Hunt (1950).

By the late 1940s and in the decades that followed, the

cold war introduced the communists as the new enemy, be

they Chinese, Russian, East German, or Cuban. A prolifera-

tion of anti-red spy ﬁlms hit movie screens with titles such as

I Married a Communist (1949) and I Was a Communist for the

FBI (1951).

In the late 1950s and 1960s, ﬁlmmakers discovered that

the most effective enemy was simply “them.” No country or

speciﬁc ideology needed to be identiﬁed; it was enough that

some foreign, evil “them” was trying to destroy “us.” Spy

ﬁlms entered a new realm of paranoia and psychological sus-

pense, touching audiences not with national fears but with

deep, personal anxieties. Hitchcock—ever the master of the

spy ﬁlm—began the trend with North by Northwest (1959).

Then the genre accelerated wildly with the surprise success

of the Ian Fleming-inspired James Bond series, beginning

with Dr. No (1962).

The James Bond movies, made in England, were such

massive hits that they touched off an explosion of copies. If

the western was the genre of choice in the 1950s, the spy

movie was the hands-down winner of the 1960s (followed by

science ﬁction in the 1970s). The Derek Flint ﬁlms starring

JAMES COBURN

, (e.g., Our Man Flint, 1966), the Matt Helm

series starring

DEAN MARTIN

(e.g., The Silencers, 1966), and

the Harry Palmer series starring

MICHAEL CAINE

(e.g., The

Ipcress File, 1965) all leaped into the fray.

In addition to the series, there were a number of sophis-

ticated spy thrillers during the 1960s, such as The Manchurian

Candidate (1962), Charade (1963), The Spy Who Came in from

the Cold (1965) Arabesque (1966), Hitchcock’s Torn Curtain

(1966), and The Naked Runner (1967).

Spy movies became so prevalent that it was soon time to

mock the genre, as several movies did in the late 1960s and

early 1970s. Among these were the notable Casino Royale (1967)

and several other lesser ﬁlms, such as The Liquidator (1966).

The spy-movie epidemic ﬁnally spent itself by the end of

the 1960s, with a few interesting latecomers, such as two by

JOHN HUSTON

, The Kremlin Letter (1970) and The Mackintosh

Man (1973),

SYDNEY POLLACK

’s Three Days of the Condor

(1975), and

DON SIEGEL

’s Telefon (1977). The 1980s saw even

less in the way of spy ﬁlms, except of course for the regularly

released James Bond movies that reminded us of how things

used to be.

With relations between the United States and Russia

warming, an attempt to revive the genre, Little Nikita (1988),

did not meet with success. In this atmosphere, there seemed

to be room for the more buoyant silliness of ﬁlms like Boris

& Natasha (1989), a comedy spy ﬁlm based not on real life

but on cartoon characters from the old Rocky and Bullwinkle

TV show.

Espionage came to dominate popular culture during the

early 2000s. The ﬁlm Spy Game (2001) was far more compli-

cated and challenging than the weekly plots of the CBS tele-

vision series The Agency, produced with the cooperation of

the Central Intelligence Agency and no doubt intended to

make the agency look invincible, wise, maybe even compas-

sionate and humane. If Spy Game seemed to resemble the

CBS television series, the reason is that director Tony Scott’s

screenwriter Michael Frost Beckner was the creator of The

Agency, in association with Wolfgang Petersen’s Radiant

Television. As Owen Gleiberman wrote in Entertainment

Weekly, “the ﬁlm’s version of the CIA—what’s right with it,

and what’s wrong with it—has a spark of genuine dramatic

interest that overlaps, however unintentionally, with the

urgency of our own current global concerns.” The ﬁlm

appears to have a more authentic edge than the television

series, though in the opinion of Variety, the ﬁlm is “not fun-

damentally anti-CIA per se.” On the other hand, Brad Pitt

was quoted by Entertainment Weekly as saying, “There’s a

term in the CIA called blowback, the unintentional repercus-

sions of our actions.” According to Pitt, the “movie is about

how we may have been causing more damage than good—all

in the name of democracy.”

The CIA’s operation in the ﬁlm is nastier than what The

Agency television series suggests, however, as the agency

intends to hang a rogue agent named Tom Bishop (Brad Pitt)

out to dry. When the ﬁlm begins in 1991, Bishop has been

imprisoned on an espionage charge in a Chinese prison and

SPY MOVIES

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