Then Again - Diane Keaton [84]
As I left the Hôtel Plaza Athénée in Paris for the last night of principal photography on Something’s Gotta Give, I was greeted by a phalanx of paparazzi hoping for Cameron Diaz, who was at the hotel, or Jack, only to find themselves in front of a solitary Diane Keaton—or was it Diane Lane, as my invitation to the Valentino Fall Collection was addressed. It had been a long shoot, six months to be exact. After our last shot, Jack hugged me goodbye, saying something about a little piece. I hugged him back and we went our separate ways. Two years later, a check with a lot of zeroes arrived in the mail for my back-end percentage on Something’s Gotta Give. I didn’t have a back-end deal. There must have been some mistake. I called my business manager, who told me it was from Jack Nicholson. Jack? That’s when I remembered him saying something about a little piece when we hugged goodbye. Oh, my God. He meant he was going to give me a piece of his own percentage.
There were so many contradictions and inconsistencies with Jack. So many surprises. One day we were shooting on the set of Erica’s beach house. The script described the scene as: “Erica and Harry, wet from the rain, quickly shut all the doors and windows. Lightning crackles across the sky and the lights in the house go out. A match is struck and a candle is lit. Then another one, and another one. Erica turns and finds Harry just looking at her. Before either of them has time to think, they kiss.” For me, Diane, not Erica, the kiss was a reigniting reminder of something lost suddenly found. “I’m sorry,” Erica says. “For what?” Harry says. “I just kissed you,” Erica says. “No, honey, I kissed you,” Harry says. Then, as scripted, Erica kisses Harry. Instantly I, Diane, forgot my next line. “Damn it, I’m sorry. What do I say?” The script supervisor whispered, “ ‘I know that one was me.’ ” In other words, I, Diane, or rather I, Erica Barry, took the lead and kissed Harry first. We tried the take one more time. As soon as I kissed Jack—or, rather, Harry—I forgot the line again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on here. What’s the line one more time?” From her director’s chair in Video Village Nancy shouted, “Diane, it’s ‘I know that one was me.’ ” “Right. Oh, right, right, of course. I’m sorry, Nancy. Let me try it again.” This went on for another ten minutes. I honestly didn’t know what I was doing. The only thing I remembered was not to forget to kiss Jack. Kissing him within the safety of a story that wasn’t mine, even though it felt like it was, was exhilarating. I forgot I was in a movie. Nancy’s story was merging into my story—Diane’s story of a kiss with Jack, aka Harry. And the great thing was, Harry aka Jack had to love it just as much as I, Diane, aka Erica, had to love it. I don’t know what Jack, not Harry, felt. I just know everything that came out of his mouth gave me the rush of a “first-time love” over and over. It wasn’t the script. It was Jack. And Jack can’t be explained.
So that’s what Something’s Gotta Give gave me: Nancy’s godsend, Jack’s kiss, and a piece of the back end. Something’s Gotta Give will always be my favorite movie, not only because it was so unexpected at age fifty-seven, but also because it gave me the wonderful feeling of being in the presence of a couple of extraordinary people who delivered two gifts and a kiss.
A Different Message, 2005
The new nurse left a message before she quit. “Your mother appears to have a lot of hallucinations. When she took