Post by jsg on Nov 29, 2022 6:27:55 GMT
www.imdb.com/title/tt0385575/
American remake of the British sitcom Butterflies.
A few choice quotes from Carla Lane's autobiography, Someday I'll Find Me:
A parcel had arrived for me. It contained a few scripts for me to read. I read one and was filled with dread. The dialogue was light and frothy and jokey, none of the characters were real. ‘I can’t write this,’ I kept muttering to myself, ‘I can’t write this.’ The couple in the script were supposed to be in love but it was really all jokes. When I wrote about love it was really love and love is painful as well as funny. I was filled with that word which crops up often in this book, fear. ‘I’m not clever enough to do these kind of scripts,’ I explained to Roger. ‘OK, honey,’ he said, ‘it’s no worry. I have some good news for you. Let’s have some lunch, the others are waiting.’
The others were six or seven, I forget, but a mixture of producers, writers and God knows what. Roger had booked a room at the hotel for us to lunch in. I was introduced. ‘This is Buck, this is Ted, this is Chuck.’ And each one said, ‘Hi there, nice to meet you.’ In an effort to get my inadequacies over, I said, ‘I’m a bit scared. I’m not sure I can write for American television. It’s different.’ They all chorused together, ‘Oh my God, that Liverpool accent. It’s fantastic, it’s Beatle time.’ Roger intervened, ‘So the good news is, we’re going to do Butterflies.’ A terrible vision flashed before me. I could hear Ben saying ‘Gee, I love you honey’ to Ria and Ria to Ben saying ‘OK, OK, so I get the dress I saw in Freemans’.
My troubled face quickly took on an act of elation. ‘Oh Roger, that’s fantastic, thank you.’ ‘Didn’t I tell you, didn’t I tell you?’ ‘Oh God,’ said one of them, ‘I can see it already. A scene where they first meet. He says something like, “You flicked your ash in my trifle”. He’s doing a sitting down dance now. And she could say, “Oh, I’m so sorry”, and she can swap trifles, you know as if she doesn’t mind eating ash.’ They all roared. I died inside. The following morning a big, bright red car was waiting outside the hotel. Someone came towards me, ‘Miss Lane?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Care of the studio, ma’am, drive carefully.’ Filled with another kind of dread, I immediately called Rex to come and save me. After many cups of coffee and bagels with cream cheese, I was persuaded to do just one of the Butterflies for them. ‘Just one,’ I said. They saw the worry on my face. ‘Don’t be scared,’ said Roger, ‘you write the script, we’ll rewrite it.’
The others were six or seven, I forget, but a mixture of producers, writers and God knows what. Roger had booked a room at the hotel for us to lunch in. I was introduced. ‘This is Buck, this is Ted, this is Chuck.’ And each one said, ‘Hi there, nice to meet you.’ In an effort to get my inadequacies over, I said, ‘I’m a bit scared. I’m not sure I can write for American television. It’s different.’ They all chorused together, ‘Oh my God, that Liverpool accent. It’s fantastic, it’s Beatle time.’ Roger intervened, ‘So the good news is, we’re going to do Butterflies.’ A terrible vision flashed before me. I could hear Ben saying ‘Gee, I love you honey’ to Ria and Ria to Ben saying ‘OK, OK, so I get the dress I saw in Freemans’.
My troubled face quickly took on an act of elation. ‘Oh Roger, that’s fantastic, thank you.’ ‘Didn’t I tell you, didn’t I tell you?’ ‘Oh God,’ said one of them, ‘I can see it already. A scene where they first meet. He says something like, “You flicked your ash in my trifle”. He’s doing a sitting down dance now. And she could say, “Oh, I’m so sorry”, and she can swap trifles, you know as if she doesn’t mind eating ash.’ They all roared. I died inside. The following morning a big, bright red car was waiting outside the hotel. Someone came towards me, ‘Miss Lane?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Care of the studio, ma’am, drive carefully.’ Filled with another kind of dread, I immediately called Rex to come and save me. After many cups of coffee and bagels with cream cheese, I was persuaded to do just one of the Butterflies for them. ‘Just one,’ I said. They saw the worry on my face. ‘Don’t be scared,’ said Roger, ‘you write the script, we’ll rewrite it.’
The American version of Butterflies was recorded not long after. I was flown by Concord to New York and then on to Los Angeles, to be there on the night of recording and found myself with a strangely loving feeling
towards all those people who once made me want to go home, but as for the programme, it was awful. I learned later that the man who played the lead role in Butterflies in America died suddenly two days after the
recording. It was hard for me to take in because on the night we had sat together exchanging our views on life.
This was not the end of America – I made five more trips in an attempt to provide them with an acceptable script, but they were fruitless journeys. My very English style of writing could not be easily adapted, not
by me anyway.
towards all those people who once made me want to go home, but as for the programme, it was awful. I learned later that the man who played the lead role in Butterflies in America died suddenly two days after the
recording. It was hard for me to take in because on the night we had sat together exchanging our views on life.
This was not the end of America – I made five more trips in an attempt to provide them with an acceptable script, but they were fruitless journeys. My very English style of writing could not be easily adapted, not
by me anyway.
