The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond

Touted as "lost" or "newly unearthed," this 1957 screenplay by Tennessee Williams has finally made its way to the cineplex. But, muses Kimberly Gadette, was the fifty-year journey really necessary?

Tennessee Williams frequently collaborated with directorial giant Elia Kazan, creating a stunning body of work that the likes of David Mamet described as "the greatest dramatic poetry in the American language." From 1947 through 1960, the Williams/Kazan relationship was in full force with such film collaborations as A Streetcar Named Desire and Baby Doll (nominated for twelve Oscars, receiving four) as well as stage productions of Camino Real, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Sweet Bird of Youth. According to a 1957 New York Times article, Williams had written the screenplay of The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond for Kazan to direct and Julie Harris to star. But, like a Williams' heroine, the project ultimately withered on the vine.

If Kazan had worked with Williams as planned, there's no telling what art they might have created together. Unfortunately, first-time feature director Jodie Markell is no Elia.

As for the stories promulgated that this film is based on a "lost" screenplay that just recently came to light, this hyperbole sounds like something that Williams himself might have made up. In actuality, the screenplay was unearthed in the writer's New Orleans apartment in the mid-seventies, subsequently published in 1984 as part of a four-screenplay collection entitled ‘Stopped Rocking and Other Screenplays’, published by New Directions – and is widely available today. Like the streetcar named Desire, the concept is far more glamorous than the vehicle itself. Here, there are no hidden diamonds in the rough, there is no buried treasure; rather, this antiquated screenplay has very little sparkle.

And very little story. Set in the roaring '20s in and around Memphis, Tennessee, spoiled rich girl Fisher (Bryce Dallas Howard) is out of step with her debutante friends, especially since she's recently returned from her schooling abroad. Since Fisher's aunt is pushing her to find reacceptance into Memphis high society, Fisher hires the drunken caretaker's handsome son Jimmy (Chris Evans) to escort her to upper-crust social events. She wears diamond earrings worth $10,000 (in 1923, that's some nice ice), drinks too much, clashes with her aunt (a delightful Ann-Margret) and sort of falls for Jimmy. Jimmy wrestles with his conscience: if he returns her affections, Fisher just might pay for some decent medical treatment for his mother.

Williams' heroines have always been a tricky lot, their fragile, emotionally-wounded states teetering in direct counterpoint to their roaring demands for attention. These are bewildered dinosaurs, clinging to their remnants of stained silk and ratty fur, ill-equipped to function in a faster, crasser world. And they are usually past their prime. No modern-day "sixty-is-the-new-forty" for them – now that they've been booted out of their twenties, feeling as useless as their empty wombs, they sense their impending obsolescence sneaking up on them.

But in this film, our heroine is a young woman. And while we can forgive the volatile nature of her famous middle-aged sisters tearing through the canon of Williams' work (Blanche, Amanda, Maggie, Alexandra), women scarred from the vagaries of life, this Fisher girl – floating free from any true trouble – is simply snippy. Abusive. Shrewish. Someone who makes us want to yell, "Knock it off, brat!" All that, and she overacts to boot.

Which is surprising, since director Markell is an actor herself (currently in HBO's Big Love). Such experience should make her all the more aware of the necessity of delivering a subtle performance in front of the camera. Yet both Howard and Mamie Gummer (playing Fisher's only good friend) flap their hands, shudder, roll their eyes as if they're amateurs co-starring in some rural dinner theater production of Thoroughly Modern Millie. And yet both women have turned in smart, well-honed performances in the past. The older professionals (Ellen Burstyn in the one fairly-interesting subplot, Ann-Margret and Will Patton) do just fine; one might guess that they would have dismissed any untoward direction with a polite nod before going about their business as usual.

The misbegotten direction (at one point, Markell thinks she's supervising a stage play and dims the bedroom lamps, while a pin spot inexplicably comes up on the players) is underscored by Williams' clunky script. The exposition rushes at us in Fisher's flat monologue to Jimmy. Characters ask each other, "Did you hear what I said?" before repeating the words verbatim. In the last act, Fisher suddenly dons a new guise of civic responsibility. Believable? No more than that her chewed leopard coat was once a leaping leopard.

It's a crime that an entire generation who have never seen a Tennessee Williams stage play or film will think that this current work represents the artist. Now that this screenplay has been found...can we lose it again?

Rating on a scale of 5 cats on a hot tin roof: 1.5

Release date: US (wide release): 8 January 2010; UK: TBA
Directed by: Jodie Markell
Written by: Tennessee Williams
Cast: Bryce Dallas Howard, Chris Evans, Ellen Burstyn, Ann-Margret, Mamie Gummer, Will Patton
Rating: US = PG-13; UK = TBD
Running time: 102 minutes