carry-on and took out the screenplay. The Importance of Beating Ernest. Since Elliot Schiffter and Reliable Pictures were flying me all the way to Paris to help them find a dress for this movie, I figured I’d better at least read the script.
The Ernest in the title is Ernest Hemingway.
I don’t know about you. But when I was a junior in high school, I had to read some book by Ernest Hemingway. I don’t remember which one. All I remember is that I hated it, hated having to read it, hated everything about it. So when I saw that the screenplay had to do with Ernest Hemingway, I thought, Uh-oh.
Silly me. I loved the screenplay.
Maybe because it’s actually not mostly about Hemingway. The main character is this old college professor named Harold Klein. He teaches literature, and he’s an expert on Hemingway. Which is really ironic, because when Harold was a very young man he went to Paris and fell in love with a beautiful French girl named Catherine. She fell in love with him, too. Only rat bastard Hemingway stole her away, even though he was married at the time.
So you see, Ernest Hemingway is the villain. Maybe that’s why I liked it so much.
Anyway, old Harold Klein is dying. And a young student convinces him to go back to Paris. To try to find Catherine, who was the love of his life. He goes, and he sees an old woman who is maybe Catherine. Only before he can find out, Harold gets run over by a guy on a Vespa.
This is not a sad story.
Because Harold wakes up, it’s 1928, and he’s nineteen again. Only this time he knows everything he learned in his whole life. He and Catherine fall in love all over again. And here comes rat bastard Ernest Hemingway all over again. But this time Harold has the chance to get it right. Of course it’s not easy. If love came easy, it would be a very short movie. Harold has run-ins with Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas, and Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, who apparently were pretty funny in real life, although probably not intentionally. Even though Harold should know better, having lived through it all before, he does something stupid and Catherine gets really mad at him. So in swoops Hemingway. He invites Catherine to a glamorous soiree and buys her a dangerous dress, which she wears to the party. Only Hemingway’s wife sneaks Harold in, and Harold steals Catherine right back.
But Hemingway chases them down. There is a big fight, where scrappy little Harold actually beats up big drunk thug Ernest Hemingway. Only Harold takes a terrible beating too, and he passes out, and we don’t know if he’s alive or dead.
Wait, it’s happy.
He’s alive. But when he wakes up, he’s old again, and he’s in a hospital in Paris. The old lady at his bedside is Catherine, who has never fallen out of love with him. And the best part is, Harold is not dying after all. Which the doctor can’t explain, but hey, it’s a movie. Harold and Catherine get married in the same Paris café where they first met. They dance, they kiss, and—
“I love this!”
Then I realized I had said it out loud.
Fortunately the people sitting on both sides of me were asleep. I don’t usually rave out loud about things I read. But I did love it. It was so romantic. Funny, too. But mostly romantic.
I put the screenplay back in my duffel baggy. Then I looked at my watch. I still had another four and a half hours till Paris. So I decided to take a nap.
I guess what with all the rushing around and the excitement I was pretty tired, because in just a few seconds I felt myself drifting off. Before I fell asleep, though, I thought, Look where I was only twenty-four hours ago. Look where I am right this minute. And just imagine where I could be twenty-four hours from now.
Only I didn’t have to imagine. I was going to Paris. Paris, France.
Where absolutely anything could happen.
10
F inally we landed at Charles de Gaulle airport. I was one of the last people off the plane. I looked around, but there was no one
The Ernest in the title is Ernest Hemingway.
I don’t know about you. But when I was a junior in high school, I had to read some book by Ernest Hemingway. I don’t remember which one. All I remember is that I hated it, hated having to read it, hated everything about it. So when I saw that the screenplay had to do with Ernest Hemingway, I thought, Uh-oh.
Silly me. I loved the screenplay.
Maybe because it’s actually not mostly about Hemingway. The main character is this old college professor named Harold Klein. He teaches literature, and he’s an expert on Hemingway. Which is really ironic, because when Harold was a very young man he went to Paris and fell in love with a beautiful French girl named Catherine. She fell in love with him, too. Only rat bastard Hemingway stole her away, even though he was married at the time.
So you see, Ernest Hemingway is the villain. Maybe that’s why I liked it so much.
Anyway, old Harold Klein is dying. And a young student convinces him to go back to Paris. To try to find Catherine, who was the love of his life. He goes, and he sees an old woman who is maybe Catherine. Only before he can find out, Harold gets run over by a guy on a Vespa.
This is not a sad story.
Because Harold wakes up, it’s 1928, and he’s nineteen again. Only this time he knows everything he learned in his whole life. He and Catherine fall in love all over again. And here comes rat bastard Ernest Hemingway all over again. But this time Harold has the chance to get it right. Of course it’s not easy. If love came easy, it would be a very short movie. Harold has run-ins with Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas, and Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, who apparently were pretty funny in real life, although probably not intentionally. Even though Harold should know better, having lived through it all before, he does something stupid and Catherine gets really mad at him. So in swoops Hemingway. He invites Catherine to a glamorous soiree and buys her a dangerous dress, which she wears to the party. Only Hemingway’s wife sneaks Harold in, and Harold steals Catherine right back.
But Hemingway chases them down. There is a big fight, where scrappy little Harold actually beats up big drunk thug Ernest Hemingway. Only Harold takes a terrible beating too, and he passes out, and we don’t know if he’s alive or dead.
Wait, it’s happy.
He’s alive. But when he wakes up, he’s old again, and he’s in a hospital in Paris. The old lady at his bedside is Catherine, who has never fallen out of love with him. And the best part is, Harold is not dying after all. Which the doctor can’t explain, but hey, it’s a movie. Harold and Catherine get married in the same Paris café where they first met. They dance, they kiss, and—
“I love this!”
Then I realized I had said it out loud.
Fortunately the people sitting on both sides of me were asleep. I don’t usually rave out loud about things I read. But I did love it. It was so romantic. Funny, too. But mostly romantic.
I put the screenplay back in my duffel baggy. Then I looked at my watch. I still had another four and a half hours till Paris. So I decided to take a nap.
I guess what with all the rushing around and the excitement I was pretty tired, because in just a few seconds I felt myself drifting off. Before I fell asleep, though, I thought, Look where I was only twenty-four hours ago. Look where I am right this minute. And just imagine where I could be twenty-four hours from now.
Only I didn’t have to imagine. I was going to Paris. Paris, France.
Where absolutely anything could happen.
10
F inally we landed at Charles de Gaulle airport. I was one of the last people off the plane. I looked around, but there was no one
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