Chapter 34

The Throwdown

I had a dream recently that Hugh Jackman came to me with a problem. He said, “I know you’ve seen all my love stories and I think I may not be a good kisser on film.” Then he leaned over and gave me a nice little friendly kiss. I saw what he meant. It was nice. Nothing more.

I said, “I may be able to help. There’s this thing called the Throwdown. Here’s how it works. The man desires the woman, but for whatever reason he doesn’t act on it. The desire for her continues to build and build until a moment when he realizes that it’s mutual. That he can have her. Then he throws down. The built-up energy explodes and he is kissing her, pressing her up against a wall, throwing her into bed, onto the kitchen table, floor, couch, etc. The key is in the buildup and waiting until that energy is nearly excruciatingly intense before it explodes into action. Into a kiss.” Hugh thanked me, and unfortunately didn’t opt to try this one out then and there.

Not all my dreams are notes meetings of course, but this one got me thinking I should include this idea here. The Throwdown.

The Throwdown may not literally be down. They don’t always end horizontally, or with sex. But the explosive emotional and sexual energy is there more than in any other scene.

Let’s differentiate this from two horny people who have just met, have no relationship, and barely get the apartment door closed before they are tearing each other’s clothes off and copulating on the floor. We’re happy for them that they got their itch scratched, but let’s not mistake this for love or for a good story. It may be titillating, but it’s not what we’re about here.

As with all parts of love stories, there are films that may not be great in every way, but that get certain aspects absolutely right, and we can learn from those. Though sometimes the films themselves are also great.

One of the classic Throwdown kisses is from the Orson Welles/Joan Fontaine 1943 version of Jane Eyre. In the last scene Jane comes back to Thornfield, drawn by her love of Mr. Rochester, or as we come to know him by this point, Edward. Since Jane last saw him, he has been terribly burned and blinded in a fire that destroyed much of his lovely home and killed his mad wife, who in fact started the blaze. She was also the barrier between Jane and Edward.

Jane finds Edward with his beloved dog, Pilot, wandering through the burned-out ruins, a broken and desolate man with nothing to live for. He believes that he will never see Jane again. And that now, in his current state, he is not a man that she or anyone else would ever want. Especially not a woman as fine as Jane.

She watches him. Pilot recognizes her and runs to her side. Mr. Rochester calls the dog who doesn’t come. He senses someone else is here.

And he realizes it is Jane in front of him. He touches her hands, then her face, but can’t let himself believe he can have her.

And he reaches out blindly and grabs her, pulling her to him and straight into a kiss that has all the intensity of a drowning man on his last breath grabbing hold of a log that saves his life. This kiss is literally the kiss of life. It saves him. From a life of hopelessness, loneliness, and despair. In that kiss a whole new future opens up for him. A life of loss restored to love, companionship, light returning to his utter darkness. And his greatest dream suddenly coming true. Not bad for a few seconds of screen time and one kiss.

Not all kisses are life-saving, of course, but why not start at the top with the most intense, highest-stakes kisses?

When my best friend Hilary and I talk about actors, sometimes we say, “He’s great but he doesn’t have the Throwdown.” Meaning he doesn’t have that intense love/sex explosive energy onscreen. And of course even those actors can surprise us. The thing to remember is that the Throwdown is the writer’s job. We create that energy, set it up, build it, and choose the moment for it to explode into a Throwdown. The actor merely follows our script, and hopefully performs it well.

Sometimes it is even better when an actor who we assumed didn’t have the Throwdown, throws down big time and blows us away.

Jimmy Stewart was not a Throwdown type of guy generally, but surprisingly in It’s a Wonderful Life he has it. George Bailey has resisted his attraction to Mary. She has gone off to college for a year while he has stayed behind keeping the Savings and Loan afloat until his brother can take it over and George will be free to pursue his dream of being an explorer. He sees Mary, who tries to win him back, playing their song on the Victrola. But everything goes wrong. They argue. He storms off. The phone rings and it’s Sam, an old friend of both of them, calling from New York with a business proposition just as George comes back because he forgot his hat. Sam wants to talk to both of them, so they put their heads together to listen at the earpiece. George’s nose is practically in her hair and he tries to resist his attraction and his feelings for her, but finally he drops the phone and throws down. Kissing her wildly and all he can say is, “Mary, Mary.” And of course her response is, “George, George.” And they are both in tears. And no surprise this scene dissolves right into the wedding. Job done.

In Cold Mountain (2003, written and directed by Anthony Minghella from the Charles Frazier novel about the Civil War), there is a great Throwdown kiss between Jude Law’s Inman and Nicole Kidman’s Ada. It is 1860 and though they have been interested in each other, they haven’t declared it or touched or kissed. Maybe a hand brushing a hand as a tray is passed from one to the other, but that’s it.

Now all the men are going off to fight and even though Inman doesn’t want to go or believe in fighting, he has to go. Ada goes up to the rooming house in town where the soldiers are billeted before they are deployed. She knocks on his door and he opens it immediately thinking it’s another soldier. He is shirtless. Naked chested. So surprised to see her that without a word he closes the door again. She hesitates uncomfortably, then walks away, but just as she turns the corner of the balcony, the door opens again and he steps out, buttoning his shirt, and says, “Wait!” And she does. She gives him a book to take with him that describes the flora in these parts so he will feel connected to home. And a photograph of herself, unsmiling. She doesn’t apologize but explains that she doesn’t know how to do that. “Hold a smile.”

On the street below them the army begins to march by with the soldiers going off to war, interrupting their farewell. She turns and starts to walk away. He calls her name, “Ada.” She says, “What?” but can barely get the word out when he takes her hand and pulls her back into a kiss. As if it may be the only kiss they ever have. A kiss that takes them both down to their knees. When the kiss is broken by soldiers blustering past them on the balcony, they are both drunk from this kiss. As he helps pull her to her feet, she is dizzy, stumbling. And not another word is said between them. And none is needed. This kiss will last them both for several years. The memory of it. The reliving of it alone in her feather bed or his trenches. Through longing and loneliness or the horrors and suffering of war, this kiss will carry them. Because that’s what a great Throwdown can do if it’s set up right and fully paid off.

There is a great Throwdown in Brokeback Mountain. Gay cowboys Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) have gone so far in trying to deny their love for each other that they have both married women and Ennis has children. Then he gets a postcard from Jack. A handful of words. He’s coming through town. Should they see each other? Yes. Ennis’s wife knows his old friend Jack is coming to town that day. Ennis is so nervous he can’t stop looking out the window or drinking. When he sees Jack’s pickup truck pull up outside, he flies out the door and down the stairs. Before they can say anything or even move off the street they are kissing each other wildly. After a few seconds they stagger around a corner partly out of sight, but not before Ennis’s wife has seen them. Jack and Ennis kiss each other like men who have been in the desert, dying of thirst, who suddenly find themselves falling into fresh water. This scene makes them, and us, realize that until now they haven’t really been living. Just biding time until life returns.

Some scenes from old films we once loved, whether in theaters, film school, or on cable TV hold up. The “Stella” scene from A Streetcar Named Desire is just as sensational now as it was then. Brando had all the beauty, animal sexuality, plus love and remorse and despair and pain and hope. He kind of had it all really. And so did Tennessee Williams who created Stanley Kowalski and all of the above-mentioned heat and angst. This one is worth revisiting.

So is the sexy beach scene from From Here to Eternity (1953, Daniel Taradash adapting the novel by James Jones). The illicit couple played by Burt Lancaster, a non-com army officer, and Deborah Kerr, as his captain’s wife, are drawn together. She agrees to go to the beach with him. A shot of the waves rolling onto the sand reveals them lying in the water kissing as the water rushes over them. She pulls herself away, runs up to their towel and falls onto her back, catching her breath, lying in the sun. He comes up to her, stands looking down at her, then falls to his knees and kisses her again, then falls all the way down on top of her. And that’s what we call a classic Throwdown. The impossibility, the desire that can’t be denied. And the love unfolding.

One of my personal guilty pleasures is a bad movie that has a good Throwdown. Streets of Fire is a strange little film with a great Jim Steinman song score. (You probably know his work from Meatloaf and Footloose.) In this movie, exes, played by Diane Lane and Michael Pare, are finally reunited in a kissing-in-the-rain Throwdown. He comes to a hotel room where she is staying with her boyfriend/manager. Pare angrily throws a fistful of money back in the face of her boyfriend and walks out. All Diane says is, “I’m sorry, Billy,” before running after her old flame out into the streets of rain. It only takes a few words of dialogue before the kissing slams in and no words are necessary. Or possible.

The elements of a great Throwdown, once again:

1. The energy of love denied has built up between two people until it explodes into physical action.
2. Something that has kept them apart has either changed or they don’t care any more and go for it anyway.
3. The Throwdown should be a turning point in the relationship. If you do it right, things will not be the same between these two people after the Throwdown.