Nobody knows anything

The other day I was channel-surfing & came across this 1992 fluff:

The Year of the Comet isn't exactly Tracy & Hepburn, & it’s not even Hanks & Ryan, but I recall finding it amusing about ten years ago. Penelope Ann Miller really does have a flair for screwball comedy & she’s never had the proper vehicles to strut her stuff, so I try to catch her when I can. Plus, I’ve had a thing for Art Malik ever since The Jewel in the Crown.

I don’t know what made me look it up last week, but imagine my astonishment to find that the pair at the helm of this truly inconsequential offering were: Peter Yates (director) & William Goldman (screenwriter).

If you don’t recognize Yates, he brought us Bullitt, The Dresser & Eleni, amongst others. Uber-action testosterone-fest, psychological exploration of the theatre world & the shattering tale of a woman in the Greek civil war. (Okay, he also directed For Pete’s Sake & Mother, Jugs & Speed, so perhaps I should just rest my case on his account.)

But Goldman—Goldman! The guy who wrote All the President’s Men, Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid, Marathon Man & The Princess Bride. The guy who wrote the book on screenwriting—literally. Adventures in the Screen Trade & Syd Field’s Screenplay were the two Bibles that would-be screenwriters absolutely had to read. Field told you how a screenplay works; Goldman told you how the business works.

His mantra was: nobody knows anything. & I’ve found that applicable to almost every company I’ve ever worked for.

& I was reminded of that when I discovered him attached to YotC. Nobody knows anything. Including me.