Adaptation

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

The title of the movie, Adaptation, takes on many meanings in this 2002 film written by Charlie Kaufman and directed by Spike Jonz. It refers to adapting another person’s writing into a screenplay. So, the movie is about writing a movie, but it also is a satire on traditional Hollywood storytelling. It also deals with changing oneself in order to survive, and in that way, it points to the evolution of species that must change to continue. 

The film begins with no visuals and a voice-over by Nicholas Cage as Charlie Kaufman, which is the name of the actual screenwriter of the movie, playing a version of the real person, the way Larry David acts like a fictionalized character based on himself in Curb Your Enthusiasm. Charlie’s speech is full of insecurities about his appearance and he lists a number of desired self-improvements, including learning a foreign language, playing an instrument, etc. His focus on himself is so intense that he is a hypochondriac agonizing over bodily aches and pains and functions, like sweating. All of the above add up to someone unsure and unhappy with who he is and his place in existence.

The first visual is what appears to be real footage on the set of the movie, Being John Malkovich, as it is made, except for Nicholas Cage portraying a balding, overweight Charlie. It is a real film that Kaufman wrote that references a real actor, Malkovich. Adaptation reflects on the creative process, as reality and imagination are intertwined. Charlie questions everything, including, “Why am I here? How did I get here?” He is in self-conscious overdrive. There is a comical visual response to his angst-filled musings that shows the early melting lava of earth’s inception four billion and forty years earlier, because Charlie is forty years old. He is so self-absorbed he must include himself in the planet’s creation and subsequent evolution to include his life up to his present age. He is interested in the big picture, but movies usually need a dramatic center to hang onto. 

While having lunch with Valerie Thomas (Tilda Swinton), a studio executive, he continues to worry about his physical appearance despite her admiration for writing a great script for Being John Malkovich. They are there to discuss making a film out of a book entitled The Orchid Thief, written by Susan Orlean (Meryl Streep) who is a writer for the New Yorker magazine, which is about John Laroche (Chris Cooper who won the Best Supporting Oscar for this role), who knows a great deal about flowers. (These characters and the book exist, and writer Kaufman found it difficult to adapt the book to the screen so instead he wrote Adaptation to tell the story of his problem). Charlie’s concern, which is one that independent filmmakers always struggle with, is that he doesn’t want the story commercialized. He asks that the movie be true to the book’s story about Native Americans, the Florida landscape, and the fact that Laroche poached orchids. He does not want the project to be turned into a Hollywood film that sacrifices character studies and setting for a plot-driven narrative about drug runners. He also stresses, in neurotically sweaty speech, that he also does not wish the movie to be one that follows the usual formula of a love story or a narrative where characters find a path from despair to “learning profound life lessons” and “overcoming obstacles to succeed in the end,” because “life isn’t like that.” He wants to do a film about flowers, which is exactly what we are watching. His words mirror his own bitterness about his life and his pessimistic vision of existence. The story suggests that to produce meaningful art the artist may lead a miserable life due to delving into insights about the unhappy aspects of the human condition.

Don’t ever expect a straightforward script from the real Kaufman. The film now switches point of view and narrators as there is a jump back in time to Susan saying she went to Florida to find out about Laroche and Seminole Native Americans who were arrested for stealing orchids from a state reserve. She mentions that Laroche has his front teeth missing (has life kicked him in the teeth literally and figuratively and does it add to his outsider persona?). There is a further shift backward to Laroche using the Native Americans to acquire the lovely flowers. A state trooper says that he can’t allow them to remove the vegetation. But, Laroche in a folksy way, recites legal precedents that allow Seminoles to acquire local wildlife and plants for their tribal purposes. So, the lawman becomes flustered, but Laroche is arrested anyway.

Meanwhile, back in the present, Charlie goes home where his twin brother, Donald (an invented character also played by Cage) lives with him. Donald is better looking, and seems to take advantage of his brother, even eating food designated for Charlie. Donald needs a job, and says he will be a screenwriter, too. He figures he can be successful after taking a three-day seminar conducted by Robert McKee (Brian Cox) on how to write movies. (McKee is also a real person who teaches screenwriting). Donald is, at least at first, the superficially acceptable hack version of the artistic, though tormented, Charlie. He tells Donald that these classes that promise to have “the answer” just “attract desperate people.” Donald counters by saying McKee offers “principles” which have always worked “through all remembered time.” Charlie says art isn’t about recreation based on something old, it is doing something new and different, “a journey into the unknown,” like his project based on The Orchid Thief. (Kaufman is always innovative, as anyone who has seen Malkovich, or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind knows. But we’re not talking the huge commercial success of Marvel movies here). 

The socially inept Charlie is with Amelia (Cara Seymour) at a party, and it is interesting that the man who can write words so well can’t seem to say the right thing to ingratiate himself with women. He wants to say something funny to impress her, but he just comes off complaining. The film implies that maybe true artists can’t express themselves like average people because they have such complex ideas and feelings which can’t be readily spoken. Amelia does think it is good that Charlie will be working on a new assignment so he will not just ruminate on his own feelings of awkwardness that come from being in “his own head.” In other words, obsession with one’s own thoughts can create a self-consciousness that blocks any connection with others. There is a moment where Charlie looks as if he will kiss Amelia, but his self-doubts rule. 

Charlie faces the daunting appearance of the blank page, as many writers do. Writing is always one step removed from real life. Many times the screenwriter is two steps away, since the writing is based on another person’s rendering of reality. Maybe Charlie is so wrapped up in himself because of these degrees of separation. Charlie keeps trying to keep himself on track while fighting the temptations (like feeling that he must have a muffin) that tempt one to evade the creative process (I know all about that). 

While Charlie struggles, there is a jump back to the flowing prose of Susan who recounts the historical dangers of orchid hunting. Susan says that she came to feel that it wasn’t just the orchids, but the threat of “fatality” in acquiring them that was attractive to Laroche. In that sense, it is not the destination but the adrenaline jolt of the perilous journey that is appealing. Some who write may find a different, but similar enjoyment during the creation of the project, and a letdown when it is completed. She meets Laroche after he testifies in court concerning his arrest. Despite the prejudice associated with a backwoods appearance and dialect, Laroche upends that view as he is a highly intelligent and informed individual. He is impressed with Susan’s willingness to print whatever he has to say without censorship. So, a bond starts early on between these two. 

There is a shift back to Charlie who doesn’t know how to adapt the book into a screenplay. Writing, a solitary activity, is where he usually functions well, so he is not at home anywhere at this point. His inability to be social is evident after going to a concert with Amelia. He is complimentary about her musical ability, and she is obviously interested in Charlie romantically. But, his insecurity sinks his chances with Amelia who gives him an opportunity to join her at her place after the concert. He makes excuses about having to get home and rest so he can grapple with the script the next day and doesn’t take advantage of her desire to have a goodnight kiss. Amelia is giving up on him as she refuses his invitation to go to an orchid festival. His voice-over bemoans his gutless behavior and he tells himself that he will march up to Amelia’s door and kiss her. Of course, he doesn’t, his neurotic state of mind rendering him an inert person.

The cut to Laroche giving Susan a ride contrasts with Charlie’s static temperament. Laroche drives recklessly, while complaining about the other drivers, announcing how those that follow rules make the world “insane.” His desire to deviate from norms does connect him to Charlie. Laroche is looking to make a profit by obtaining the ghost orchid, which is endangered in the wild, and is difficult to cultivate. But Laroche declares that he is the only one who can make the flower thrive, and as long as only the Seminole Indians acquire the orchids, it is legal to remove them from the Florida state park. Susan writes in her notes that Laroche’s boasting indicates “delusions of grandeur.” In this way he is the polar opposite of Charlie who has zero self-esteem. 

Charlie, back in the present, reads Susan’s book. Her voice-over declares that “orchids are the sexiest flowers on earth.” She says the word “orchid” derives from the Latin word “orchis, which means testicle.” The story’s association of the flower with Laroche suggests that he is the male with the balls and Charlie is the eunuch. (However, if one is familiar with the paintings of Georgia O'Keeffe, orchids can possibly be considered as symbols of female sexuality. In either case, the flower is associated with sexuality). Brother Donald interrupts and says that he “pitched” his story to their mother who said it was like Silence of the Lambs meets Psycho. Charlie is anti-movie establishment, and he is annoyed by the industry jargon word “pitch.” The film here makes fun of how Hollywood loves to use past films to act as if they are creating something new while really regurgitating something old that made money. The combination that Donald uses here is nonsense because he combines one serial killer story with another, thus showing a lack of imagination. 

Flashing back, Susan goes to see Laroche but instead meets a Seminole Native American, Matthew Osceola (Jay Tavare), who accompanies Laroche on his orchid hunting. Matthew seems to be looking at Susan from a cosmic perspective, touching and commenting about her hair and seeing her “beautiful” sadness. She remains in the mundane realm, talking about having washed her hair and the conditioner she used. He says he can’t speak to her for very long because it is “the Indian way.” For him life is experienced, not watered down by secondhand words.

That scene contrasts with the next one between Laroche and Susan, where Laroche talks on and on about flowers and Charles Darwin (adaptation referring to evolution here). His ego is in full bloom as he is condescending by needlessly explaining his scholastic references to Susan. Laroche notes that every flower at the horticultural show they are attending has a “specific relationship with the insect that pollinates it.” Some flowers have evolved to fit the shape of the insect they need to attract. His statement suggests that for life to continue, there must be an “adaptation” between organisms in the environment to create intimate connections. And, by example, Laroche’s comments can refer to the relationships between people. He says that the insects and flowers don’t realize it but their apparently localized “lovemaking” behavior has vast repercussions. He makes the jump to people by analogy as he says, “when you spot your flower, you can’t let anything get in your way.” His statement would be good advice for Charlie, but the look on Susan’s face shows it also applies to her.

There is another fine transition to a dinner party that has Susan starting to stand apart from her snobbish urban intellectual friends who make disparaging remarks about Laroche’s missing teeth, his personal hygiene, and general oddness. Her internal voice declares that she wants something more primal out of her life. But she says it is not in her character to seek that goal. In that sense she is like Charlie. She says she wants to know what “it feels like to care about something passionately.” She admits to not being interested in orchids themselves, but wants to understand the force that draws people to the ghost orchid (the phantom part of the name taking on supernatural or spiritual meaning). 

Susan questions how Laroche moves from one passion to another so easily. He went from loving various forms of turtles, to ornate mirrors, and then to tropical fish. After the immersion into his fascinations with different things, he subsequently lost interest in them, like an abandoning lover who leaves after having reached his satisfying climax. She narrates her wonder at this process by asking, “if one really loved something, wouldn’t a little bit of it linger?” Laroche’s quest for self-gratification shows he is centered on himself, but in a different way than is Charlie. Laroche appears to care about ecological elements, but has no fidelity to them. Susan wishes she could emulate his ability to just keep moving on with nothing in the past to emotionally weigh her down.

We transition nicely to Charlie reading from Susan’s book, which Susan has been narrating. Does it become a sort of manual for Charlie? A waitress named Alice (Judy Greer) sees him reading the book, and notes how she loves orchids. Charlie, the written wordsmith, again can’t connect orally. It appears as if she goes with him to the orchid festival, and says that the flowers are very sexual, as she touches Charlie’s hand. She takes him into the woods, kisses him, and begins to disrobe. But, it is just an erotic dream, stressing Charlie’s only refuge is his imagination. (Later he misinterprets Alice’s friendliness for romantic interest, and she goes off embarrassed as he starts to invite her to the orchid festival. He can’t turn his imagination into reality). Donald interrupts his brother’s sleep to pitch his serial killer thriller story that mixes in dissociative personality disorder. A weary Charlie points out how derivative the story is in addition to its obvious plot gaps. He realizes it’s pointless to explain the shortcomings of Donald’s story, and placates him with the Hollywood convention of combining old stories by calling Donald’s idea, “Sybil meets Dressed to Kill.”

At the flower show he hears Susan’s words in his head describing how the orchids resemble other things and he inserts his own narrative for hers, substituting the women attending into items in an exhibit, saying different females look like either a schoolteacher, a gymnast, or an intellectual. By saying one object in nature looks like another doesn’t alter its essence. But what about labeling women as certain stereotypes? Doesn’t that attempt to define their more complicated nature just by the way they appear? But, Charlie goes beyond superficial looks and becomes poetic as he describes one woman having eyes that dance. Then he returns to what he read about how Matthew said that Susan has eyes that contain “the sadness of the world.” Charlie is a writer and he is creating characters out of what he observes in life. 

Susan is riding with Laroche, and he says that he loves plants because they are so “mutable,” and then he brings up the movie’s title by saying, “adaptation’s a profound process.” He points to how metamorphosis, adapting to the environment, ensures survival. As Brad Pitt’s character in Moneyball says, “Adapt or die.” But Susan counters with the difference between plants and people. Flowers have no memory, and when people don’t respect the history that came before, it’s like “running away,” She is upset that this man whom she admires could easily discard her if she commits to him. 

Back on the set of Being John Malkovich, actor Cage is portraying Charlie, who is a fictionalized version of the screenwriter who wrote the movie, as he observes the actual actors in Malkovich, such as Catherine Keener and John Cusack, who are playing themselves in Adaptation, which is a film that is a reproduction of their earlier roles. We thus have a story (Malkovich) within a story (Charlie’s world) that is pretending to reflect reality. Donald is also there attempting to connect with Caroline (Maggie Gyllenhaal), the makeup artist. He asks Charlie about how to kill someone in his script. Charlie is disgusted by that type of story and, using a sarcastic pun, tells him to make the killer a literature professor who cuts off parts of his victims which makes him “The Deconstructionist” murderer. But Donald wants to use the idea. Back at their home, Donald is impressing Caroline with his script that tries to appeal to a mass audience which contrasts with Charlie, in another room, staring at a blank page, frustrated by having difficulty producing great art from a story about a flower.

Charlie’s writing and life continue to spiral downward. Donald now introduces Caroline as his girlfriend and they kiss at a party where Amelia visits with her new guy, David (Bob Stephenson), a man who is not what one would consider typically handsome. That fact indicates Charlie’s worrying about his looks was not a barrier to having a relationship with Amelia. Donald is crude in describing the sex he intends to engage in with Caroline that evening, and Charlie just wants to escape. When asked by Amelia how he is doing, Charlie describes himself as a “mess.” 

Charlie starts to sound like Laroche equating evolution with adaptation. He delves into Charles Darwin’s words (the man is “dramatized” by actor Bob Yarkes, which shows what the screenwriter must do to visualize a story). Charlie says he needs to know the orchid’s “arc,” equating the flower with a character’s progression in a script. Since the flower is the story of the earth itself, Charlie feels he must go back eons, since, as Darwin states in the film, we travel on “a journey that unites each and every one of us.” Darwin says that we all developed from one cell, yet we are all separate. Charlie believes his job is to “tie all of history together.” Quite an undertaking, and not a tale easily placed in the two-hour format of a Hollywood movie. He dictates the opening of his movie that tries to sum up the tale of the planet which is just the introduction to Susan and Laroche’s tale. Charlie listens to what he dictated and looks like he is in pain at the unwieldy nature of the project. Donald bursts in interrupting him, proclaiming his screenwriting teacher, McKee (the “key” to success?) a “genius,” which is what he previously called his brother, but Donald has a substitute now. Donald says McKee thinks the only way one can be original is to stay within genres. The look on Charlie’s face suggests that what he thinks McKee urges is like putting oneself in a jail cell and then making up new ways to pace inside of it.

Back to the past, Susan calls Laroche to find out what happened to the nursery he and his wife owned. He says it was going very well, but then “darkness” descended. Instead of just him telling the story we have some visualization (which is what a movie script must do) showing what happened nine years earlier. Also, there is some action that complies with what a more mainstream movie might contain. Laroche's car, with his wife, mother, and uncle inside, is hit by another vehicle when Laroche carelessly backs into traffic (a foreshadowing). (He still drives recklessly as we have seen, so he either hasn’t learned his lesson, or he is somewhat suicidal because of guilt. Possibly he moves on so quickly from one interest to another because he doesn’t want to again experience the pain of losing someone he cares about). Only Laroche survived the accident mostly intact, except for his front teeth, but his wife went into a coma for three weeks. But she divorced him when she woke up. Then Hurricane Andrew destroyed everything he had, making him a sort of Job type of character. He subsequently joined up with the Seminole Native Americans. 

There is a shift forward to when Susan met with Valarie about making a film based on her future book which would develop out of her New Yorker article. Valerie repeats Laroche’s words about wanting to give the Native Americans something “amazing,'' (the word will change meaning later) which would be the ghost orchid. Susan is surprised by the desire to option her work to be made into a film and says she never wrote a screenplay. Valerie assures her that they have screenwriters. Then there is a cut to the dejected Charlie as he listens to a phone call telling him that Valerie wants the overdue first draft. Charlie has another erotic dream about giving Valerie the finished story and making love to him. She calls him “a genius,” as the word starts to sound tarnished by overuse under inappropriate circumstances. 

Charlie meets with his crude and unempathetic agent, Marty Bowen (Ron Livingston), saying how he can’t adapt the book which has no story structure. Marty says Charlie is good at making crazy stuff up. But Charlie says he wants to respect Susan’s work and wants to do something simple (which is not what Kaufman does, not even in this film). He wanted to show how “amazing” flowers are, the way Laroche described them, as Charlie wants to channel Laroche so he can gain Susan’s admiration. But Marty asks if flowers really are “amazing,” which stresses how the inexplicable beauty of nature is just skimmed over by some. Even the defeated Charlie admits that he isn’t sure if he understands their amazement. Charlie wants Marty to get him out of the deal, but pulling out of the project at this late date would do great harm to Charlie’s career.

Following up on this theme, Charlie returns home looking downtrodden while Donald is typing and saying his script is working so well that it’s “amazing,” at least in how much it is using overused movie story conventions. Charlie comically says it’s like Donald has joined a “cult,” the one run by his screenplay teacher, McKee. Donald has put McKee’s ten writing commandments on the wall. These rules (which by the way are helpful guidelines for writers to follow, such as creating complex characters and avoiding the use of a “deus ex machina” to solve plot conflicts) take on a mock religious aspect here. Kaufman is an iconoclast and for him rigidity can stifle creativity. 

Charlie hasn’t been able to sleep which is exacerbating his inability to transform the nondramatic book into something that must be dramatized. He picks up Susan’s writing and her voice states, “There are too many ideas and things and people. Too many directions to go,” which sums up Charlie’s dilemma with writing a script from this book. She says when one cares passionately about something, “it whittles the world down to a more manageable size.” Her explanation may suggest why Laroche must delve deeply into one thing at a time and then move on, which is his way of serially trying to experience the totality of life. Susan’s insight resonates with Charlie as he declares her observation as “so true.” He now sexually fantasizes about Susan, as he keeps hoping for an intimate link with someone who understands his unorthodox personality. However, his only satisfaction is through masturbation since his negative, awkward, insecure personality resulting from his alienation prevents an emotional connection with another person. He hallucinates hearing Susan’s voice telling him that, for his purposes, he must focus on the one thing in the book he feels “passionately about.” He starts to dictate ideas that zero in on how the story will deal with Susan’s search for passionate enthusiasm.

Charlie happens to encounter Valerie at a restaurant, and since he has been derelict in supplying a script, he tries to avoid her, but fails. Valerie is having lunch with Susan who is not at the table at the moment. Charlie’s insecurities get the better of him and he makes up an excuse about not wanting to meet the person he is writing about so as to maintain objectivity. His self-doubts soar as he realizes he is too inadequate to write about Susan since he can never meet and know her. He says he only knows about himself, and starts dictating a self-pitying story with himself at the center instead of Susan (we are obviously getting some of this part of the story in what we are watching). Donald, who is not introspective, interrupts him and says his script is completed and wants his brother to submit it to his agent. Donald’s main character makes his victims eat parts of themselves, which actually helps Charlie realize he is feeding off his own life and making the story only about himself. 

Susan is shown with Laroche who says that if they make a film out of Susan’s story he should play himself. We have an actor playing a fictionalized version of a real person who wants to be in a film (the one we are watching) expressing the desire to play himself. Kaufman is playing with the writing process here, and the blurring of reality and illusion. The two are looking for the ghost orchid, which seems like a sort of mythical quest. Susan narrates that it is intoxicating being around someone so alive in his passion. But Laroche gets lost in the swamp (representative of life?), and projects his anger resulting from his bruised ego onto Susan. He calls her a “leech” who has no interest of her own and instead is feeding off of his interests. Susan then narrates that it’s attractive to imagine that something is magical, such as the ghost orchid (and Laroche) to “fall in love with,” but which is really “out of reach,” not real. And that is how the book ends, not with a bang, but a whimper, to quote T. S. Eliot.

Charlie feels that for him to move forward on his script and on his life he must meet Susan, so he travels to The New Yorker office building. Susan actually comes into the elevator Charlie occupies, but his crippling emotional self-loathing prevents him from talking to her. During a phone call with his agent, Marty says that Donald’s screenplay is “amazing,” that word again, which keeps getting knocked down in importance. Marty thinks it’s “a smart, edgy thriller,” and “the best script” he read that year. It’s like driving a nail into Charlie’s creative and emotional coffin. Even worse, Marty suggests Charlie collaborate with his brother on the orchid book, because Donald is good at “structure,” which contradicts Charlie’s desire to write a story without that anchoring aspect.

In desperation, Charlie attends a workshop that McKee conducts. While the man speaks, Charlie has a voice-over rant, calling himself a loser who has sold out his standards because he lacks “conviction,” or possibly that word we have heard, “passion.” As he tells himself that he should leave, he hears McKee saying that a writing sin is the use of voice-over, which is “flaccid, sloppy writing.” But that is exactly what Kaufman has been using in this movie about his alter-ego, Charlie, and his subject, Susan. What McKee says was considered gospel for many years in most Hollywood projects, except maybe in film noir projects. It was considered a crutch that substituted for dramatization. (However, along came Goodfellas, Fight Club, The Shawshank Redemption, and others, which showed when done well, it augments the visuals). Charlie gets the guts to ask a question about writing a script that doesn’t have epiphanies and which shows people “frustrated” and where “nothing is resolved,” like the “real world.” McKee says that it is a waste of the audience’s time to present them with a boring story. He yells that real life is filled with violence, betrayal, corruption and other conflicts, so if one doesn’t see that, that person doesn’t understand life. 

After the seminar, Charlie summons the will to ask McKee not just for help in his writing, but with how he sees life. They go for a drink, he quotes from Susan’s book, and Charlie says he doesn’t want to sensationalize the story, saying the ending is “about disappointment.” McKee says what Charlie wants to do “is not a movie,” and he’s right by most Hollywood standards of filmmaking. He tells Charlie he has to have characters that experience arcs where they change. And, he notes successful movies have a last act that wows the audience. Of course Kaufman’s movie up to this point is doing exactly what McKee says a screenwriter shouldn’t do. 

McKee says the great script for Casablanca was written by twin brothers. So, that gives Charlie the idea to invite Donald to hang out with him in New York and work on Charlie’s script. Donald is receiving more than a million dollars for his story, called The Three. (In a way the main characters in Adaptation are three parts of Kaufman’s personality: The neurotic, insecure Charlie; the upbeat, superficial and oblivious Donald; the poetic supposed soulmate Susan; there may be a fourth, the carpe diem advocate Laroche). Donald says that his brother needs to know more about Susan because he feels that who she really is does not appear in the book, which he now has read. Actually Charlie had the same idea and that is why he went to New York. Given Charlie’s inability to meet with her, Donald pretends to be Charlie, and sees Susan. Donald says he felt there was an attraction on Susan’s part toward Laroche, but she says that any psychological intimacy between journalist and her subject ends at the end of the book. His questions seem to make Susan uneasy. Donald tells Charlie that Susan’s answers were too perfect, not revealing her truth, and therefore he concludes that she is lying.

McKee’s version, through Donald, for how a script should be written now takes over the movie as Kaufman satirizes the formulaic ending of a movie. Donald uses binoculars to spy on Susan as she makes reservations to travel to Florida. In the book, Laroche shows an interest in exploring the internet and came across porn sites. Donald finds that Laroche created one, and there is a topless picture of Susan. So, Donald is correct about Susan denying a relationship with Laroche. There is a reversal now, as Charlie is reading McKee’s book, and Donald is reading Susan’s which suggests the unstructured, undramatic story is being transformed into a commercial product. 

Susan’s story changes to fit accepted movie business standards. Susan says they found the ghost orchid but she is underwhelmed by the find. Laroche tells her the Seminoles only wanted him to help them find the ghost orchid so they could produce a drug from it to get high (the drug story that Charlie initially said he didn’t want to write). He says that it seems the intoxicant helps one “be fascinated” by what they observe. She refuses to be a part of the drug aspect and leaves, but he sends her the drug which she subsequently inhales. She becomes absorbed by everything around her, even the sound of the dial tone of a phone, which becomes a mechanical “Om” sound. Even the trivial becomes “amazing.” Instead of having a passion for one thing, she spreads herself thin by being interested in everything. She returns to Laroche and they become lovers. She seems stoned all of the time now, saying she wished she were an ant because they are “so shiny.” Her eloquent, poetic voice has turned into inane ramblings. This revised version of the story defies McKee’s prescription because the drug acts like a deus ex machina that artificially alters the plot.

The brothers go to Florida and trail Susan meeting up with Laroche. Charlie sees how much of the ghost orchid drug Laroche is cultivating and watches Susan and Laroche inhaling the drug and making love. Laroche sees Charlie spying on them and grabs Charlie. Melodrama ensues as Susan recognizes Charlie and says he knows too much about the drug business and she says she must kill him. She holds a gun on Charlie as they drive away in Laroche’s old van to the swamp. Donald is hiding in the car and creates a diversion so that the two brothers run off into the night. While Susan and Laroche track them. the brothers have a conversion while hiding. Charlie says he envies Donald’s lack of caring what others think of him, and Charlie wasted his life ruminating about how others may be devaluing him. Donald says he was aware that a girl in high school made fun of him, but he loved her, and she couldn’t take away what he felt. He tells Charlie, “You are what you love, not what loves you” which brings a tear to Charlie’s eye. It is a rather generous statement coming from what appeared to be a selfish, superficial character. But is the movie just having fun with us here, providing a sentimental line and showing the absurdity of Donald actually showing maturity when none should exist? 

After spending the night in the swamp, the brothers encounter Susan and Laroche, who accidentally shoots Donald. The brothers race off, but a pickup truck hits their vehicle, and Donald dies in the crash. Laroche and Susan follow the fleeing Charlie into the swamp. Then, to pile on the action aspects of the exaggerated ending, an alligator attacks Laroche. That shot is followed by the overly sentimental scene of Charlie having to tell his mother about Donald’s death.

Charlie now is finishing his screenplay that mostly conforms to the McKee prescription, He meets with Amelia. He finds the courage to kiss her and tells her he loves her. She is involved with someone else, but she admits her love for Charlie, giving him hope. He wants to end the script with that feeling of hope, but he self-consciously comments how he is doing a voice-over, which McKee would disapprove of, even though he doesn’t care at this point. However, he has made the story about himself, and wonders, as did Laroche, who will play him. We again have this meshing of reality and imagination within the framework of a creative work. Charlie drives away to the song “Happy Together” by The Turtles. We see flowers in bloom, symbolizing a positive ending. That shot is undercut by the film speeding up, showing cars moving quickly, days ending and starting again, as if all we are seeing is repetition, which is what happens in all of the derivative stories that come out of the show business film industry.

The next film is The African Queen.

Some Like It Hot

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

In Some Like It Hot (1959), director and co-writer Billy Wilder tells us in the title that his comedy will be a sexy film, possibly even a rebellious one in the face of prudish standards. The movie also comments on the roles males and females play in society and uses the theme that appearances can be deceiving. It probably shares the prize for the best film of a man in drag with Tootsie, and as of now, it is still rated the best comedy ever by the American Film Institute.

The opening has tough looking guys in a hearse with a coffin covered by flowers who are chased by cops. The hoodlums have guns hidden in the roof above the casket. The gangsters’ gunfire causes the police car to crash (a highly effective action scene in the absence of present-day special effects). Liquid flows out of bullet holes in the casket. The occupants open it up and there are many bottles of booze inside, some of which have been hit by bullets. The movie immediately shows that what appears to be upstanding is a fake facade.

A note says it is Chicago, 1929, during the Prohibition era. The thugs deliver the coffin to Mozarella’s Funeral Parlor, whose name reminds one of the Italian dairy product. Fittingly, the Big Cheese, Spats Colombo (George Raft), a gangster boss, is there, hat in hand, pretending to mourn the nonexistent deceased. Detective Mulligan (Pat O’Brien) is outside with a snitch, whose comical nickname is Toothpick Charlie (George E. Stone) because he always has one of the food dislodging objects in his mouth. Charlie tells Mulligan the password so the cop can pretend to be an authorized guest that will allow him to enter the speakeasy party that is hidden inside the funeral parlor (deceptive appearances on both sides of the law here). Spats shows up and a drunk fellow spills his spiked coffee onto the gangster’s fancy footwear (from which his nickname derives). The shoes are supposed to add a refined look to the seedy criminal. You don’t dare upset Spats, as his henchmen drag the clumsy drunk outside. 

Girls in skimpy costumes dance (objectification here, but hey, it still goes on since the Rockettes still perform at Rockefeller Center) in front of the band which includes two of the main characters, Joe (Tony Curtis) playing saxophone, and Jerry (Jack Lemmon) plucking his bass fiddle. During a pause, they discuss how much in debt they are. Practical Jerry wants to use some of their paychecks to reimburse all their lenders. But risky Joe has a tip on a dog race and wants to gamble all their money, hoping for a big payoff. Joe says they have a longstanding gig there, so they can afford the bet. Jerry says suppose it gets cut short. Joe says that Jerry is always negative, and someone can suppose many things that will not happen, like the stock market crashing and the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn (of course these things do actually happen which undermines Joe’s judgment). Jerry’s concern about the job ending turns into a reality when he sees Mulligan put on his badge. Joe and Jerry calmly stow away their instruments and escape as the police raid the joint. Mulligan confronts Spats, who is safely drinking buttermilk and denies being the real owner of the building, Mozarella only being a front man (another bit of fakery). 

Joe and Jerry can’t even pay their rent now, but Joe still bets their overcoats on the dog race. Of course, his “sure thing” turns out to be totally unsure, and they shiver as they walk through freezing Chicago, getting turned down for gigs. The incurable gambler, Joe, wants them to pawn their sax and bass for another bet. Jerry is funny as he sums up Joe’s recklessness when he tells him, “we’re up a creek and you want to hock the paddle.” (There are a ton of funny lines in the script). At one of the music booking offices, Nellie (Barbara Drew) complains that Joe stood her up after she bought a brand new “negligee.” Nellie’s use of that word was daring at the time the film was made, since it suggests that extramarital sex was supposed to take place. Joe comes up with a lame excuse about taking care of Jerry’s bad tooth and says he’ll “make it up to her.” She smartly says, “You’re making it up pretty good so far,” which adds to the theme of presenting a false front. The scene also demonstrates the uncaring way Joe uses women.

Nellie plays a joke on them, getting their hopes up, by saying her boss is looking for bass and sax players for a three-week job with all expenses paid in sunny Florida. What she doesn’t let on is that the job is for an all girls’ band. Joe is angry at Nellie, but Jerry thinks they can fake it by dressing like women. Joe dismisses the idea outright and instead takes a job playing at a St. Valentine’s Day dance. It is fitting that the incident that sets the rest of the plot in motion revolves around that day since the movie deals with love and lust. Reason goes out the window when romance enters since Joe is able to use his good looks and seductive ways to get the already disrespected Nellie to lend the two musicians her car to drive out of town to the gig. 

They go to the garage where the car is parked. Men appear to be playing a friendly game of cards, but it is another inaccurate scene. Toothpick Charlie and other hoodlums are the men there and they pull out guns and aim them at Joe and Jerry when they approach. Once satisfied they are only musicians, the garage owner takes Joe and Jerry to Nellie’s car. Then a car speeds into the garage and men with machine guns order the card players up against the wall. Spats then exits the car as Joe and Jerry hide. What follows mimics the infamous St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. The men are shot because Spats assumed correctly that Toothpick Charlie betrayed him, and the others are eliminated so there will be no witnesses. The day is supposed to encourage the union of lovers and the procreation that eventually follows romance. Instead, the mobsters turn it into a life-depriving slaughter. The hoods discover Joe and Jerry, but Toothpick isn’t dead yet and reaches for a telephone, knocking it over. As Spats and his men are diverted, Joe and Jerry escape and duck into a cigar store (Why cigars? Wilder uses phallic symbols often in this movie). Given their desperate situation, Joe makes a phone call and imitates a woman’s voice, saying they can play in the girls’ band.

Phony appearances become the center of the story as Joe becomes Josephine and Jerry turns into Daphne as the musicians pretend to be women. At the train station Jerry has trouble walking in high heels, and wonders how women walk in those types of shoes (which reminds us of Spats’s footwear, which, although flat, still contain a hint of femininity in their decorative appearance, adding to the gender blending of the film). The high heels illustrate how females feel required to accentuate the physical appearance of their legs and rear at the expense of safety and comfort. Sugar Kane Kowalczyk (Marilyn Monroe) appears now, her renowned beauty and shapeliness on full display, contrasting markedly with the attempted recreation of the female form attempted by the men. As she walks by the side of the train, steam shoots out at her, as if this mechanical phallic symbol (remember the end of North by Northwest?) is getting excited by her passing by, showing that some, indeed, like it hot. Jerry describes her bouncy gait with the memorable line that she looks like “Jell-O on springs.” Jerry rants that it’s impossible for them to imitate Sugar’s movements. Joe says Jerry shouldn’t worry because nobody is asking him “to have a baby,” a foreshadowing comment. 

They meet the band’s leader, Sweet Sue (Joan Shawlee) and her assistant, Beinstock (Dave Barry). Joe, when asked about their musical background, says they studied at a conservatory. Sue says the other women will have to make sure “to watch their language,” a reversal of what usually is required of men to hide their libido in the presence of women. It also shows women, too, can be sexual in their speech, as is shown when one of the band members starts to tell a dirty story. As Joe and Jerry pass through the car carrying the women, one says to Jerry to take off her “corset” and relax a little. The remark shows how women have to artificially alter their bodies by constraining themselves to put on sexually appealing appearances. Here is a safe space where they don’t have to conform to males-prescribed standards. 

Joe and Jerry come upon Sugar secretly drinking, and then hiding her flask in her stocking, which, again, creates a deceptive action. She says all the women drink, but she has been the one who gets caught. If her drinking is discovered again, she’ll be thrown out of the band. She says she always gets the “fuzzy end of the lollipop,” another phallic reference, but also points to the fact that she has been relegated to the lower end of the social class structure. At this time men can drink openly because it is a macho badge they wear, but women pretend not to enjoy alcohol because it is not seen as being ladylike. “Sugar” refers to something sweet to taste, and eating is linked to satisfying sexual appetites, as Jerry says he used to dream about being alone in a pastry shop, tasting everything. He connects that image to lust when he says he would like some of that “Sugar.” But Joe reminds him that to ensure their safety, they must abstain from indulging their sexual appetites because they are “on a diet.”

While rehearsing, Sue wants “Josephine” and “Daphne” to “heat” up their playing, another reference to passion. Sugar plays the ukulele (a shapely instrument to suggest her curves) and sings while shaking her body, causing Jerry to not even realize which side is the front of the bass. While pressing the strings on the neck of the instrument he possibly suggests it is like stroking the male member. The bass combines the curves of a woman with the neck that is phallic, and echoes the fact that Jerry joins both genders in his character. Unfortunately, the whiskey flask falls out of Sugar’s stocking. Jerry saves Sugar from expulsion by claiming that the bourbon belongs to “Daphne” (another deception). Sue says, next to alcohol, she doesn’t want her girls associating with men. Joe and Jerry say they would never get involved with men, which is actually true, since that would mean they would have to be gay. Jerry’s stated disgust with men as he assumes the role of a woman here becomes ironic later in the movie. 

There is a sexy scene as the women get ready for sleep and Wilder shows a good amount of skin considering the era, including Monroe’s ample cleavage. Jerry is salivating while Joe tries to cool off his partner’s hot libido. Jerry keeps repeating that he is “a girl,” for this trip, but his body seems to be rejecting his trying to be something he is not. He repeats the phrase as there is a contrasting shot of the masculine symbol of the train plunging ahead. Sugar visits Jerry’s bunk to voice her appreciation for pretending the flask belonged to “Daphne.” She hops into bed with him so Sue, who is walking through the car, will not see her up late. Of course the closeness to Sugar thrills Jerry. He gets some booze out of the sleeping Joe’s berth and says this might be a “surprise party,” which implies when Sugar has drunk enough he might reveal that he is really a man. But the other women see that there is alcohol being shared and they want to expand the fun. Jerry’s berth becomes so crowded it appears Wilder is trying to recreate the Marx Brothers’ crowded ship stateroom scene in A Night at the Opera. Jerry delivers a sexually funny line when he warns that they should watch what they are doing with the “corkscrew.” One of the women brings a salami. Need I say more? Also, the cramped quarters here echo other confining scenes, such as the elevator, the train, and Joe later as Junior sitting in a cramped chair on the beach. It suggests that society dictates strictly defined behaviors for males and females and upper- and lower-class people, and there is a desire to break those imposed molds.

The women wake up Joe who finds he can’t control the situation. Sugar gets a block of ice and goes to the bathroom to chip it up for the drinks as she talks to “Josephine” about how she used to play in male bands. She joined Sue’s group because she and the other women are running away from something (that confinement?). In this way they are like Joe and Jerry who are also trying to escape a bad situation. She admits to being attracted to saxophone players because their music arouses her. Sugar says that just when she thinks she has found true love, these men used her to acquire her money for gambling and other women. Of course Joe plays that instrument, which links him with those unsavory characters. Sugar described what Joe has been doing, so she is unknowingly indicting him for his past actions with women. (This scene is similar to the one between “Dorothy” and Jessica Lange’s character in the later Tootsie). Sugar says one morning she wakes up and the guy is gone and leaves her with a used tube of toothpaste with the contents squeezed out (yes, another sexual image here suggesting a man leaving after he has finished his self-gratification). But Sugar is not a feminist because she is going to Florida to land a rich guy who owns a yacht. She admits she would like a nerdy type who wears glasses because he reads the Wall Street Journal. So even though she is pursuing one of the few paths to gain economic security at the time for a woman, she does not seek the typical macho male, represented by the gangsters. Joe, who urged refraining from making any moves on the women, reverses himself when he thinks he has a chance with Sugar, and will use the information she provided later to try and win her over. 

Jerry now is enjoying the company of women and is almost feeling like one of the girls, which shows the beginning of a role reversal that is more than just clothes deep. The women drop ice down his concealing nightgown, and then put their hands down his back because they want to tease “Daphne” with tickling. Not wanting to be discovered, he pulls the emergency cord, and the train comes to a jarring stop. But the women all get back to their berths before being discovered by Sue. In this way, they act as if they have been following the rules set down for them as compliant women. These are all literal and figurative cover-ups. 

They arrive at a swanky hotel near the ocean in Florida where a bunch of rich old men await in rocking chairs to use the only leverage they have, their wealth, to win over young women. Among them is Osgood Fielding III (Joe E. Brown), who is taken with “Daphne,” which adds a gay subtext to this comedy. It also continues Jerry’s transition to immersing himself more deeply into the role of being a woman. Walking up the steps of the building, Jerry loses one of his shoes and Osgood gets down on a knee to place the shoe back on the foot. The shot presents a comic version of Prince Charming placing the glass slipper on Cinderella, which is confirmed by “Daphne” referring to herself as “Cinderella the second,” after Osgood says he is the third with his name. Osgood has been married many times and admits to liking feisty women (more masculine ones?). Multiple witty double entendres ensue, such as Osgood saying he likes “deep sea fishing,” followed by “Daphne” telling him to pull in his “reel,” another male sexual organ reference. The two enter the elevator, and all we see is the sexually throbbing movement of the shaft-like pointer designating the floors, followed by the exiting “Daphne” slapping Osgood for making advances. Jerry says, “What kind of girl do you think I am?” which would fit the typical response of a woman at the time defending her sexual reputation, but “Daphne” is far from a typical female. 

The next scene amplifies how both Jerry and now Joe see how men sexually harass women. The exaggerated macho posturing of the short (suggesting he is also meager sexually) bellhop (Al Breneman) is on display as he makes unwanted advances on “Josephine.” Although Joe sees how repugnant male sexual pressure is, he is planning to be deceptive by playing an additional role to deceive Sugar to satisfy his own male carnal desires. Jerry complains to Joe that he was pinched in the elevator, and Joe says that they are now seeing “how the other half lives.” Jerry says he doesn’t even look attractive, and Joe points out the indiscriminate male sex drive when he says all that is necessary to arouse men is that one is wearing “a skirt.” Males are so taken over by their sex drive that they even chase a man that looks like a woman. Jerry wants to leave now that they are in Florida, but Joe argues they aren’t free from Spats yet, and plays up the current gig’s monetary benefits. Jerry has already figured out that Joe is after Sugar. Joe has stolen Beinstock’s suitcase and puts on nautical clothing to impersonate the owner of a yacht. He even acquired nerdy eyeglasses to fit Sugar’s stated preference. In the course of the movie Joe is rarely himself, which stresses the roles people play in life to hide their true selves under false appearances for personal gain or protection.

On the beach, the girls, which at this point includes “Daphne,” swim and throw a ball around. It is interesting that Jerry as a woman is somewhat offended when Sugar, who is trying to complement “her,” says that “Daphne” doesn’t have large breasts which allows clothes to “hang” on her better. Jerry is experiencing the emphasis on looks that society has placed on physical appearance when it comes to women. When the beach ball rolls past Joe he covertly trips Sugar and then says he hopes she is fine since many people sue him. That way he quickly shows he is rich. He calls himself “Junior,” since he is the heir to the Shell Oil Company, and that is why he likes collecting seashells. He reads the Wall Street Journal, which Sugar also stated was a male must, but he originally has the newspaper upside down which shows his fakery. Joe adopts a Cary Grant accent to stress his playing a charming romantic lead, but it also makes him sound like he is higher up on the socio-economic ladder. Sugar, trying to match Junior’s supposed status, also puts on a false front by saying those with whom she plays are society girls. When Joe discovers her band plays jazz, he announces the film’s title by saying he guesses “Some like it hot,” but he prefers classical music. Which of course he doesn’t, because he also plays jazz, and that music here becomes synonymous with physical passion. Sugar pretends she is on the same footing as the rich person, and acts as if she is rebelling against her upper-class family. Wilder is satirizing how people try to connect romantically by hiding supposed deficiencies instead of just being honest with each other.

Jerry wanders by and recognizes Joe in his new costume, but Joe issues a suggested threat about squealing. However, Jerry wants to tell “Josephine,” who is supposed to be in the bathtub in their room, right away about Sugar’s finding such a wonderful man. He wants Sugar to discover that Junior is a phony as he walks into their room. But that would mean “Josephine” is also a phony, and Jerry doesn’t seem to realize that also exposes him. Joe has outsmarted, and out run, Jerry, and is in the tub in a bubble bath. In telling “Josephine” about how Junior collects shells, Jerry, in a sideways comment, says, “you know, the old shell game.” The line is a humorous way of again stressing deception. After Sugar leaves, the duplicitous Jerry hypocritically lectures Joe on his pretend act. Joe rises from the tub, still wearing the male clothing, and he menacingly drips toward Jerry. The image literally and figuratively illustrates how there is more going on underneath than what appears on the surface. 

The phone rings, and Joe answers in his own voice, then quickly switches to Josephine. He has been so dishonest he loses track as to who he is supposed to be in the moment. It is Osgood calling, who seems to get a thrill out of being dominated by women, as he enjoys recounting being slapped by “Daphne.” Osgood wants “Josephine” to pass on the message that he has sent the crew of his yacht, the New Caledonia, on shore leave so he can have a quiet supper with Daphne. As payback for trying to expose him, Joe tells Jerry that “Daphne” will stay on shore with Osgood while Joe continues his charade as Junior by entertaining Sugar on Osgood’s yacht. 

After the evening show, Joe changes from Daphne into Junior (he’s like a human chameleon). He switches so often he almost forgets to remove his earrings. He hijacks Osgood’s motorboat but makes lame excuses as to why he has trouble using it, and can only drive backwards. He is literally out to sea in this identity. He doesn’t even know anything about the yacht. As if all these ruses weren’t enough, Joe as Junior acts as if he has a mental block about women, saying they don’t excite him since the woman he loved fell into the Grand Canyon as they were about to kiss. (He says that he gave her transfusions because their blood type was “O.” Wilder uses the blood type as a running gag throughout the film whenever something dangerous is mentioned). He says that he and his family tried everything, but nothing worked to cure him. This strategy allows him to kiss Sugar, saying how he feels nothing, which makes Sugar want to prove that she can overcome his lack of passion. He says if he could find a woman who could revive his interest in romance he would marry her immediately. That is plenty of incentive for Sugar, who plants a passionate kiss on Joe while he lies on the couch. Her large breasts are prominently accentuated in the dress she is wearing, and Joe’s left leg rises, comically symbolizing an erection. 

There are then cuts back and forth between the two couples. While Sugar and Joe/Junior are on the yacht, Jerry/Daphne is at a Latin American club dancing the night away with Osgood. Jerry is just going through the motions at first and Osgood complains that his disguised male companion is leading while they tango. Back on the boat, Joe says, after numerous kisses, that it feels “like someone is barbecuing” his toes. Sugar says, “Let’s throw another log on the fire,” an additional line with a sexual innuendo. While dancing, “Daphne” and Osgood switch having a flower in each other’s mouths, and eventually enjoy themselves so much that they continue dancing even after the club closes. Meanwhile, “Junior” says Sugar has overcome his problem as they keep kissing.

In the morning, Joe and Sugar arrive at the dock just as the drunk Osgood goes to his boat still voicing the music of the night. Joe escorts Sugar to the hotel, then climbs back up to his room after she is inside. Jerry is still singing, too, shaking maracas (symbolic of breasts?). He/she tells Joe that he is engaged. After Joe asks who is the lucky girl, Jerry says, “I am.” He has temporarily transformed into Daphne, switching gender roles, and says Osgood asked to marry Daphne. Jerry says he’s getting married for “security,” like other women of the era (including Sugar). He says he will get a financial settlement after the marriage is annulled. Since women aren’t allowed financial and cultural independence, Wilder is commenting on how society turns romance and marriage into a business arrangement for women, who exchange sex for cash, which constitutes a sort of legal version of prostitution. Joe tries to bring Jerry back to the reality of the time when men couldn’t marry men, and, in a reversal of his previously prescribed mantra, tells him to repeat, “I’m a boy,” in order to do a gender reboot. Sugar shows up at the door to talk about her night and in accordance with the film’s theme, Joe performs a literal cover-up by putting on Josephine’s wig, and jumping under the covers of the bed. 

In a bit of plot contrivance, there happens to be a gangster meeting at the same hotel hosted by the mobster boss, Little Napoleon (Nehemiah Persoff), whose name sounds redundant given the French leader’s height. We again have a facade erected since the crooks are supposed to be attending an Italian opera fan convention, a move that again stresses class distinction and legitimacy. Spats is there with his gang, as is Detective Mulligan, who tells Spats that when they find the two witnesses who were present at the St. Valentine’s killings, Spats will be arrested. Joe and Jerry see Spats and his thugs in the lobby, try to escape on the elevator, but the mobsters get in the same car. Even though they appear as Josephine and Daphne, one of the hoods asks if he met them before in Chicago. “Daphne” says, with a double meaning, that they “wouldn’t be caught dead in Chicago.” As the elevator door closes, Spats gives the two pretend women a hard look as if he is trying to see below the disguises to find the truth. 

Joe and Jerry quickly start to pack, planning to escape again. Jerry says they will sell the diamond bracelet Osgood gave him and head to South America. But, he picks up the maracas and remembers what a great night he had and says, as if he is a woman, that he’ll never find another man who is so good to him. When Joe picks up the hat he wore as Junior, he feels he must at least say goodbye to Sugar. Jerry says Joe usually just left women without a word. Joe says that was when he was the saxophone player, like the jerks who left Sugar without caring about her. He says he isn’t that person anymore, and wants to be like the millionaire gentleman he portrayed, which additionally emphasizes social class differences. They both seem to be internally taking on the characteristics of what they appeared to be on the surface. Joe as Junior calls Sugar and still lies by saying he has to go to Venezuela to firm up an oil merger and marry the other company head’s daughter for the sake of the stockholders. He puts the diamond bracelet in the box of orchids that Osgood gave to “Daphne” and slides them over to Sugar's room, saying she should have received his present, which her roommate finds outside the door. Joe is thinking more about Sugar than himself now.

Joe and Jerry try to sneak out by way of the balcony and down the side of the building, but the gangsters see them through their room window. Joe and Jerry had said they were musicians when they were in the garage in Chicago, so Spats suspects they are the witnesses since the disguised men are carrying instruments. Joe and Jerry are able to avoid the mobsters by climbing back up, but the crooks get the bass fiddle and find the bullet holes which confirms Spats’s suspicions. 

Spats and his men rush to the lobby. Joe and Jerry assume more disguises (additional fraudulent appearances) as Joe pretends to be an old man in a wheelchair and Jerry, dressed as a bellboy, pushes the chair. They head through the lobby but Spats sees that Jerry didn’t take off Daphne’s high heels. Jerry is symbolically male and female now in his appearance at the same time to stress the gender blending. 

The two evade the gangsters, hiding under the dinner table where the gangsters are meeting (another example of outward appearance not revealing what is truly happening). Spats is angry at one of his men and starts to pick up a grapefruit to smash into his face (a reference to James Cagney’s performance in Public Enemy). Little Napoleon arrives and he uses large hearing aids (exposed to too much gun noise, or does he not care about hearing what others have to say?) He wants to remember those that were killed on St. Valentine’s Day. Apparently, Little Napoleon was a friend of Toothpick Charlie, and is angry about his death. Little Napoleon has a man with a machine gun inside a huge birthday cake in order to kill Spats (a benign appearance hiding danger underneath). After Spats and his men are shot, the shooter runs off. Joe and Jerry are again witnesses to murders, and run out. Mulligan shows up after hearing the gunshots to arrest Little Napoleon. 

The gangsters, who were able to leave the party before Mulligan arrived, look for Joe and Jerry as the two again disguise themselves as Josephine and Daphne. Joe plans on getting away on Osgood’s yacht and has Jerry, as Daphne, call him. But Joe hears Sugar singing how she’s through with love. He is moved and goes up to the stage and kisses Sugar as Josephine. He tells her that no guy (which includes himself) is worth the pain, so it is appropriate that he kisses her as a woman. 

The thugs see Joe/Josephine kiss Sugar and chase after him, knowing Joe is in disguise. After the kiss, Sugar realizes that Josephine is Junior and is happy to discover he didn’t leave. Joe and Jerry again go literally undercover, hiding beneath the gurney wheeling out Spats’s body. They meet Osgood at his motorboat, and “Daphne” says that “Josephine” will be a bridesmaid. But Sugar chases after them, and despite Joe admitting that he’s one of those selfish saxophone players that hurt her in the past, and says she deserves better, Sugar chooses the new Joe who realizes his own faults. 

The story concludes with a conversation between “Daphne” and Osgood which leads to one of the great last lines in the history of movies. Jerry is trying to convince Osgood that they can’t marry. When he says she smokes, he says he doesn’t care. He says he has a scandalous past because he has been living with a saxophone player (how true), but Osgood says he forgives her. When “Daphne” says she can’t have children, Osgood says they can adopt. Jerry finally takes off the wig and admits to being a man, to which Osgood responds, “Well, nobody’s perfect.” As we have seen in this film, men are nowhere near perfection, but after walking in women’s shoes (and wearing their dresses), there may be reason to hope for improvement.

The next film is Adaptation.