And I was taking a big chance because while it was very funny, it wasn’t a laugh riot. The fun comes from my playing a billionaire who is used to living in luxury but now because of his own hubris he is sleeping in a cardboard box. But it was also depicting the stories of real people wondering where their next meal was coming from. Not many movies talked about hard times in America like John Ford’s The Grapes of Wrath （1940） and Preston Sturges’s screwball comedy Sullivan’s Travels （1941）。 Like I’ve said before, I’ve always liked a real engine to unconsciously be there to drive my comedy. I thought that making Life Stinks could be funny but have that message about how the homeless are neglected underneath it. A crazy comedy that’s supported by the good bones of a story that rings true.
I set out to explore three things: What happened to society? What happened to brotherly love? And what happened to caring about your fellow human being?
Life Stinks was all of that, and I wanted to make it. I laid the story out, along with Ron Clark, Rudy De Luca, and Steve Haberman. Steve had been introduced to me by Rudy and was a newcomer to my writing team. They had worked together on Transylvania 6-5000 （1985）， a movie that Rudy wrote and directed, and Rudy had a lot of faith in Steve’s creative ability. He wasn’t wrong—Steve was a terrific addition to the writing team.
The story was simple. Two billionaires, both vying for the same slum property in L.A. that could be developed into a multimillion-dollar area, make a bet. My character, Goddard Bolt, bets that he can survive without a penny in his pocket for thirty days in that very same slum property. And if he can do it, his rival will have to sign over his half of the property to Goddard. It was a daring and foolish bet, but his billionaire’s ego told him that he could do it. And so begins a series of adventures in which Goddard Bolt learns the hard truth about what being poor and homeless really entails.
But who would put up the money for a comedy that featured so many bleak truths?
Jeffrey Tambor and me as rival egomaniacal billionaires making the big bet in Life Stinks.
I went to Laddie and told him that I knew this film was risky, but if we didn’t spend too much money we could surely break even, and maybe in the long run, with ancillary markets, perhaps make a real profit. I knew box office would be smaller because the title alone is going to keep people away: Life Stinks. And I didn’t want to fake out people by saying “life is beautiful” or “life is worth living.” I wanted to tell the truth, as life does stink for the disenfranchised. Laddie once again trusted me and agreed to put up the money on behalf of MGM.
We cast the multitalented Jeffrey Tambor to play the role of Vance Crasswell, the other billionaire who was vying for the property my character wanted. I remembered him from a film that my friend and co-writer Barry Levinson co-wrote starring Al Pacino and directed by Norman Jewison called…And Justice for All （1979）。 Jeffrey could play both mean and funny—perfect for the villain in Life Stinks.
In addition to the comedy and drama, Life Stinks also has a touching love story. Goddard Bolt realizes that living on the streets is a lot more challenging than he imagined, and that he has bitten off more than he can chew. Goddard is getting desperate when he runs into a slightly dotty homeless young woman, Molly, who takes pity on him and teaches him some of the rudiments of how to survive in the streets and filthy alleys of the slums. Slowly but surely, he recognizes that underneath her dirty exterior is a beautiful soul that he begins to fall in love with.
He steals a bottle of wine to share with her, toasting to her happiness. Molly responds with, “No, I don’t like happy. Happy is no good. Happy doesn’t last. I like depressed. Depressed stays with you for a while.”
So he says, “Okay, here’s to depressed!”
To play this love interest I cast the beautiful and talented Lesley Ann Warren, who began her career as a ballet dancer. In a funny and enchanting sequence, we dance together in a rag factory to Cole Porter’s “Easy to Love.” Lesley’s dancing was absolutely wonderful. She was ethereal.
One of the funniest moments in the film is when we realize at the end of the dance that we love each other and begin to make passionate love. I start to undress her and it gets funnier and funnier as I take one garment off only to reveal another and another underneath. Because out of necessity people who live on the streets often wear every piece of clothing they own all at once. It took a long time to get to the romance as the parade of clothes never ended.
Having fun during filming with the lovely Lesley Ann Warren.