Theyd lost the pulse of the times… and they knew it.
So they did the only thing they could do: They loosened their grips.
They handed the keys (and their checkbooks) to a hip new generation in tune with the times.
Credit: United Artists/Getty Images
Until one day, the arrangement didnt work out so beautifully anymore.
And when that day came, it was Cimino who got the blame.
But it was as a screenwriter that he found his earliest success.
(Thats a compliment, by the way.)
As calling cards go, it was an ace.
But the right film won.
This was in early 2000.
He hadnt made a film in four years (and would never make another, it turns out).
Shot in Thailand,Deer Hunterclimaxes with a famous and haunting Russian roulette scene.
Hes so ashen and sweaty and strung out he looks like a half-mad zombie.
Cimino said he suggested Walken improvise and spit into De Niros face during the scene to get a reaction.
Walken didnt want to do it.
Chris goes, You want me to spit in Bobs face?!
But he did it, Cimino recalled.
Well, Bob almost fing… he got so angry he almost got out of the scene.
But he knew it was working.
That was just a warm-up.
We went to a lot of extremes on that film.
It feels like its being lived.
Cimino was swinging for the fences… and he connected.
The next time, he wouldnt be so lucky.
Over the past 35 years,Heavens Gatehas become synonymous with ego run amok.
Its industry-wide shorthand for a fiscal sinkhole of cataclysmic proportions.
Its a cautionary tale of artistic hubris.
And its also part of Ciminos legacy.
It would become both his and his filmmaking generations undoing.
Buffeted by hisDeer Huntersuccess, the film became a self-destructive act of self-indulgence.
Every detail was obsessed over.
Each scene was too precious to cut.
So they had no choice but to sink or swim with Ciminos folly.
United Artists was finished.
WhenHeavens Gatewas finally shown to critics, theyd had a year to sharpen their knives.
Clocking in at three-and-a-half hours,Heavens Gatewas shaved down significantly before it was eventually released to the public.
But it was still a mess.
A gorgeously dreamy-looking one, thanks to Vilmos Zsigmonds cinematography, but still a mess.
It ended up making less than $4 million at the box office.
Ciminos career was essentially over just as it was beginning.
Afterwards, he retreated into a sort of spiritual exile from which hed only occasionally emerge.
But the sad truth was, hed lost his swagger, his confidence.
Why shouldnt it be enough that an artist give us one timeless masterpiece?
Why do we need two or 10?
Cimino would have found that amusing.
He would have agreed with it, too.
