So, at the beginning of the week, we commented on the controversy that erupted over the weekend regarding the writing credits on “Up in the Air” — the LA Times printed a piece suggesting that Jason Reitman wasn’t giving credited co-writer Sheldon Turner his due on the awards circuit. We weren’t convinced, and put out an appeal for a Turner draft of the script. One very kind reader did exactly that (thanks again!), we’ve had a look, comparing it with a a draft of Reitman’s script for the movie (one very close, although not identical to the finished film).
A couple of points before we start — Turner’s draft that we have is dated February 18th, 2003, so it’s hard to tell how many drafts came before or after, and further revisions may well have been made. Similarly, Reitman’s draft is dated August 19th, 2008, and revisions certainly were made, although, as said above, it is very similar to the finished movie — the biggest changes are ones that may have been made in the editing room. Spoilers will follow after this paragraph, for those who haven’t seen the film, beware. So, is Reitman taking undeserved credit, or is he justified in snubbing his credited co-writer?
Rather more of the latter, it would appear. The premise of Turner’s draft is more or less identical (both versions of course are based on the book by Walter Kirn); Ryan Bingham (George Clooney’s role) is a man employed by his company to fly around the country and fire poor unfortunates who are being laid off by their companies. He also is chasing a milestone number of frequent flier miles, a goal he’s somewhat obsessed with. He’s joined by a bright young colleague on the road (this time a 26-year-old man, with the rather absurd name Sutton Sway, and a pregnant wife) who partially causes Bingham to rethink the way in which he lives his life. Sway, like Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick) in Reitman’s version, doesn’t feature in Kirn’s original novel. Structurally, at least, the two versions are not dissimilar, although the plotting differs heavily in the details.
What of other details, though? The L.A. Times article claimed that a number of moments, including the suicide of a worker fired by the pair, and Clooney’s trademark firing patter (“Anybody who ever built an empire, or changed the world, sat where you are now. And it’s because they sat there that they were able to do it”) originated in Turner’s version. In fact, neither are present here, and, as far as we can tell, not a single line of dialogue is repeated between the two scripts. The earlier version pivots around mass layoffs across the country at a company called Tikki Toys. Bingham, after his boss forces him to fire Sway, develops a conscience, and organizes a buyout of the company by its employees, saving their jobs, but sacrificing his own. He also decides to give a relationship a try with Linda, a casual partner who he seems to fall for.
So Turner’s script, while clearly from the the same source material, is a very different take. Is it any good? Not really. While Reitman’s version has proven divisive (it’s more-or-less hated by some here at The Playlist, while this writer numbers it among his favorite movies of last year, and the editor-in-chief falls somewhere in-between), it is, objectively, far superior to Turner’s script, which is the glib, mainstream rom-com version of the story; it’s hard not to imagine Matthew McConaughey in the lead, somehow… First among its flaws is the deeply unpleasant nature of its lead. The most interesting thing about Clooney’s character in the final film is the fact that, despite the unpleasant nature of his job, he does care about the people he fires, as evinced by his horror at Keener’s proposal to, essentially, sack people over Skype. Turner’s Bingham, however, is just kind of a dick — at work, to a hipster about to be given the boot, who asks “Dude, why am I here…?,” Bingham responds “You’re not. Anymore. Dude.”
Reitman’s Bingham gradually comes to realize the hollowness of his own existence, and makes steps to address this, but the redemption of Turner’s lead (who’s given a backstory involving a divorce and, believe it or not, being fired from his first job) feels unearned — it’s a Robert McKee-approved character arc, rather than genuine change in a recognizable human being. There’s even a moment in the third act where he’s asked what his final objective is, and he replies “Redemption.” The script regularly achieves this level of crassness — one mass firing scene literally features the employees chanting “Kill the messengers,” until Bingham gives a crowd-pleasing speech, reminiscent of a bad sports movie, telling them “Just because corporate America’s lost its soul doesn’t mean it can have ours! Together we can do more than persevere, we can — we must — prevail.” It’s also replete with dated pop culture jokes — references to J.Lo, Clubber Lang and Kajagoogoo, and ends with a horrific piece of narration from Bingham, where he concludes that he’d rather be a simple man, like his father, who sold fruit on a street corner.
There’s some things to like in the earlier draft; Bingham constantly surrounds himself with TV or radio noise, which is a nice character trait, and there’s a good scene where he meets another frequent flier, whose son has killed himself. The fact remains, however, that there’s little-to-no crossover between the two versions despite being based on the same source material. However arrogant Reitman appears in interviews (and it’s hard to deny that, even if much of the criticism that’s appeared recently boils down to “his dad directed “Ghostbusters””), any anger he may or may not have over sharing credit with Turner seems fairly justified. But like we said, maybe a later draft of Turner’s was closer to the finished film. As it stands, it seems like a typical case of the WGA granting credit to the first writer on an adaptation as a matter of routine, rather than as a measure of their input (it’s happened many times before, Scott Rosenberg on “High Fidelity” being one example that stands out — but the WGA always favors those that filled those initial blank pages and in many ways, their thinking isn’t off).
The pair are set to share a stage for a Q&A, sponsored by the WGA, on Sunday, and it’ll be fascinating to find out what happens there — will the two writers graciously confirm and acknowledge each others input, or will it be a no-holds-barred cage match for the right to give the first speech at the Oscars? One will assume if tensions exist they’ll keep a lid on them and remain civil. We’re curious either way. [ed. must note, whatever you think of “Up In The Air,” the script was one of the best ones we read all year]