For a movie with very little in the way of action, “The Kid Stays in the Picture” keeps your attention the whole way through. That’s because the story that Robert Evans has to tell – a story that happens to be about his rise, fall, and recovery in Hollywood – is funny, fascinating, and frank, playing like a better version of shows like “Behind the Music” and “True Hollywood Story,” and without all the talking heads. And while a documentary, it’s the truth as told by Evans himself, so don’t be surprised if that truth is a bit biased.
Evans narrates the movie, even throwing in imitations of certain people prominent in his life, as he tells the story that starts at the Beverly Hills Hotel pool in 1956. He’s discovered there, and within 48 hours, he’s cast in a film opposite James Cagney. Mind you, he hasn’t wanted to be an actor; he’s actually in town to help promote his brother’s fashion business. After appearing in a few films and realizing acting isn’t for him (“I was a half-assed actor and I knew it”), Evans decides he wants to make the kind of decisions that former movie-studio boss Darryl Zanuck made. As Evans puts it, “If you own the property, you’re king. If you don’t, you’re a peon.”
That decision and a timely article by the New York Times’ Peter Bart about Evans, led to his being named the head of development at Paramount Pictures, where he eventually helped get pictures such as “Rosemary’s Baby,” “Love Story,” and “The Godfather” made. Evans has stories to tell about each of the movies, and how much truth is in those stories is left to the viewers’ determination. Remember, this is Evans talking about his own life. Frankness doesn’t equal honesty.
Directed by Brett Morgen and Nanette Burstein, the movie is adapted from Evans’ 1994 autobiography. Instead of going the expected route of filming others talking about Evans (which would have been fascinating in and of itself), the directors depend on Evans’ voice-over to string the movie together. Visually, they use clips from the films he discusses and some rare footage, along with digitally manipulated photos that become like Evans’ many photo albums taking on a life of their own. At times a bit surreal, the technique works, especially because Evans’ rambling style of speaking has a surreal quality to it as well.
What works best is Evans. While he may ramble, it’s because he’s got a lot to say, and his delivery is both comic and tragic. When he falls in love with Ali MacGraw (or “snot-nosed” MacGraw, as he calls her), you fall, too. When she later breaks his heart and ends up with Steve McQueen, you feel bad for Evans, but you also know he’s partly at fault (something he owns up to). The frankness with which he discusses his life is refreshing, particularly for someone who’s still involved in show business. And while there are parts he glosses over (his drug habit, for instance), you definitely get to hear some interesting stories. Regardless of whether Evans is actually the one who told Francis Ford Coppola that “The Godfather” should be longer than the two hours and six minutes it originally clocked in at, it’s still a great story. So is the story of how Coppola was apparently fired (and subsequently rehired) four times during the movie’s filming.
To borrow a quote from Evans used at the beginning of the movie, “There are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth. And no one is lying. Memories shared serve each one differently.” Evans gives you his memories – you just need to decide how much you want to take them as truth.