Tootsie (Sydney Pollack, 1982)

The death of Sydney Pollack on the 26th May 2008, deprives us of another of the directors who brought a modern, connected, stylish and intelligent approach to Hollywood filmmaking that rescued the industry from its mid-60s decline. Pollack was a half generation older than the Film School graduates (Coppola, Spielberg and Scorsese) and had already made his name in television alongside Sydney Lumet, Arthur Penn and Robert Altman. Penn and Altman shocked audiences with, Bonnie & Clyde and MASH, but Pollack’s They Shoot Horses Don’t They (1969) was a subtler though no less striking assault on aspects of America.

Sydney Pollack began his career as an actor; a friendship with Robert Redford began in 1962 when they met on their first film jobs, War Hunt, and he was always an actor’s director. Couple that with the skill he learnt in television developing and holding stories, and his film career is really about strong stories and great performances.

The original idea for Tootsie came from Dustin Hoffman and, perfectionist that he is (coupled with Pollack’s reputation as the “Script Nazi”) the film had at least seven writers including such uncredited luminaries as Elaine May (Heaven Can Wait, Reds, Primary Colours) and Barry Levinson (Diner, Tin Men). So much for the ‘single voice’ theory of movie writing!

This is the scene that pushes Michael Dorsey into becoming Dorothy Michaels and wonderfully sums up Pollack’s strengths both as director and actor. It’s as complex a piece of writing as you’ll see – two men talking at complete opposites about exactly the same problem. A perfect act one climax, the scene sums up everything we’ve learnt about Hoffman’s character (over emotional, uncompromising, unprofessional, totally dedicated, totally ambitious) and yet the strength of the scene comes from Pollack as Michael’s agent, George Fields. George is virtually firing Michael as his client: Michael has no future, no one will hire him, every avenue is cut off, but the momentum of the story constantly builds, the humour is always there, so that by the end of the scene Michael is left with only one way out – or one way in!

GEORGE: “I can’t even send you up for a commercial. You played a tomato for thirty seconds - they went half a day over schedule because you wouldn’t sit down.
MICHAEL: Yes. It wasn’t logical.
GEORGE: You were a tomato ! A tomato doesn’t have logic. A tomato can’t move.
MICHAEL : That’s what I said, so If he can’t move, how’s he gonna sit down, George. I was a Stand Up Tomato – a juicy, sexy, beefsteak tomato. Nobody does vegetables like me. I did an evening of vegetables off-Broadway. I did the best tomato, the best cucumber, I did an endive salad that knocked the critics on their arse.
GEORGE (breathes, then): Michael, I’m trying to stay calm here. You - are a wonderful actor.
MICHAEL: Thank you.
GEORGE: But…you’re… too…much….trouble. Get some therapy.

According to Pollack no one ever laughed during filming and he once said that if he could have any of his time to live again it would be the 14 months working on Tootsie. Well his loss is our gain. The golden era of Hollywood comedy is said to be the era of 30’s & 40’s Screwball comedies - Bringing Up Baby, His Girl Friday etc etc etc – but for me Tootsie stands comparison with the best of them.

Peter Delaunay