Working With John Travolta On Get Shorty Filled Gene Hackman With Rage

In Barry Sonnenfeld's 1995 showbiz comedy "Get Shorty," John Travolta plays Chili Palmer, a loan shark from Miami who possesses more cool than anyone currently living. He's also a deep-cut movie buff, and bought a leather jacket specifically because it looked exactly like the one Al Pacino wore in "Serpico." Chili is sent to Los Angeles to shake up a low-budget movie producer named Harry Zimm (Gene Hackman) who owes a great deal of cash. Harry Zimm most often produces movies with grave-robbing ghouls and slime creatures, frequently starring his preferred scream queen Karen Flores (Rene Russo). Chili, seeing an opportunity, doesn't shake down Harry for the money, but decides to go into business with him producing movies. Harry, you see, has found a very, very good, Oscar-quality prestige script that will pull him out of the B-movie ghetto. 

Travolta and Hackman play off of each other well, as Chili is cool, confident, and collected, while Harry is scattered, devious, and kind of pathetic. "Get Shorty" is a great character piece overall, and the pairing of a Miami loan shark and a Hollywood small-timer is a delicious pairing. 

You wouldn't know it by looking, but it seems that Hackman hated working with Travolta. In Sonnenfeld's new memoir, "Best Possible Place, Worst Possible Time: True Stories from a Career in Hollywood," he recalls Hackman becoming furious that he spent entire weekends learning his lines and going off book, while Travolta would waltz onto the set totally unprepared. Travolta was riding high in 1995, having just reclaimed his fame via the success of "Pulp Fiction." "Get Shorty" was a plum deal for Travolta, and it seems he had become cocky. Hackman, meanwhile, was never anything less than professional, and he hated Travolta's flippant attitudes toward his job. 

Sonnenfeld recalls the very first scene he was going to shoot with both Travolta and Hackman. The director says he likes to have a rehearsal before the actors get into costume and before all the lighting is set up, giving everyone a feel for the scene. Hackman showed up ready to go, and Travolta showed up ... not. Sonnenfeld recalls Travolta asking Hackman how his weekend went. Hackman, angry, told him that he spent the whole weekend memorizing eight ****ing pages of dialogue. Travolta, unfazed, merely said that it was a waste of a weekend. Hackman was off book, but, as Sonnefeld wrote:

"John, on the other hand, probably hadn't read the script since his agent made his very lucrative deal. Fumbling his lines, or forgetting them entirely, I could tell John had no idea how angry Gene was getting. I knew we were in for a very, very, long day. What I didn't know was that in an hour my wife would be in tears and the crew would be on the lawn playing frisbee, taking naps, and drinking coffee."

It seemed that production halted for Travolta's casual non-commitment to the script. Sonnenfeld needed both actors to be sharp for their scene, as he needed both of them on camera together. Sonnenfeld felt that comedies need to play in wide shots, with the actors feeding off of one another's timing. Hackman was sharp and able to deliver his lines with a snap. Travolta, meanwhile, would spend long moments remembering what to say, getting lines wrong, and basically blowing the timing. Sonnenfeld continued: 

"While Hackman spent his weekend learning [lines], who knows what John was doing. Gene's performance was fantastic, John was slow on the uptake and he fumbled and mumbled through the scene. Hackman was getting more and more frustrated with John's delayed responses and lack of pace."

Eventually, Hackman's anger boiled over. Sadly for Sonnenfeld, he was the one who stepped in to bear the brunt of Hackman's wrath, deflecting it from Travolta.

When Sonnefeld began shooting the actual scene as rehearsed, Hackman exploded. In a flurry of cuss words, Hackman berated Sonnenfeld for not knowing how to direct, accusing him of listening to his wife, Sweetie, for directing advice. Sonnenfeld was wise and level-headed enough to know that Hackman was only mad because of Travolta's unprofessionalism, and not because Sonnenfeld was doing anything terribly wrong. The director called lunch, pulled Hackman aside, and told him:

"Hey, Gene. One second. Just so you know. If it helps to yell at me this entire movie, go ahead. It doesn't bother me at all, so keep screaming. [...] I know you're not angry at me. You're angry at John for not knowing his lines and you can't yell at him, since you've got to work with him for the next ten weeks. You know my wife didn't tell me how to direct, and I know you need to yell at someone, so yell at me. But please leave Sweetie out of it."

Hackman would take Sonnenfeld into his trailer and admit that he had always struggled with self-loathing and rage issues. Hackman didn't apologize, but he did explain why he was always so angry. 

And that wasn't the end of it. Sonnefeld recalls a scene later in the film wherein Travolta, high on movie-star fame, arrived late to the set, smiling and talking about fashion designers. Hackman, in response, once again exploded at Sonnenfeld. The director mentioned that Hackman looked the wrong direction for a brief reaction shot, and the actor decided to make a big deal of it. He accused Sonnenfeld of being inept, and that no other director had ever corrected a reaction shot (although Sonnenfeld could assure him that they did). 

Sonnenfeld let Hackman vent his rage, took a break, and resumed shooting. By then, Hackman had already forgotten the argument. Sometimes great direction doesn't end up on the big screen.