Nine and a half weeks a hit from the 80s that involved a real ordeal for Kim Basinger

  Nine and a half weeks a hit from the 80s that involved a real ordeal for Kim Basinger

 

 

 

The actress reported that director Adrian Lyne, in complicity with Mickey Rouke, mistreated her so that her participation would be "more credible" with the plot.

 

 

At a time when the debate on eroticism and the role of women in the film industry is more present than ever, especially after the conviction of Harvey Weinstein, it is worth remembering what it meant for Kim Basinger to have participated in the hit '80s movie "Nine and a Half Weeks."

 

The tape meant a conflict not because of the details of that fiery relationship between a dominant man and a masochistic art gallery owner that, compared to "Fifty Shades of Grey", seems like a Disney story. The strongest discussions around the film were actually more focused on a complicated pre-production and a chaotic and problem-filled shoot.

 

 

The first scandal occurred in the casting: Kim Basinger, known at the time as the "Bond girl" from "Never Say Never" (1983) and cover of Playboy magazine that same year, ended up defining it as "the worst experience" of your professional life.

 

 

Elected Miss Georgia in her post-teen years, she was then thirty years old and ready to become a Hollywood star. So much so that an industry producer defined it with excessive enthusiasm as "a cross between Marilyn Monroe, Brigitte Bardot and Judy Holliday, with the talent of Julie Christie". Robert Altman, a highly respected filmmaker, added more air to that trial balloon: "She's the next Meryl Streep," he assured without blushing.

In that framework, Adrian Lyne did not hesitate. Basinger was the girl of the moment and she had everything he said was vital for the role: innocence and instinct.

Once the actress accepted the job, the inconveniences began, related mostly to unexpected demands from the director, such as the prohibition of contact with Rourke prior to the first day of shooting, designed so that she could "really see him as a stranger and even have him fear". It was just the beginning of a long nightmare that Lyne coldly planned.

 

Once the actress accepted the job, the inconveniences began, related mostly to unexpected demands from the director, such as the prohibition of contact with Rourke prior to the first day of shooting, designed so that she could "really see him as a stranger and even have him fear". It was just the beginning of a long nightmare that Lyne coldly planned.

The idea of ​​filming the scenes in chronological order, an atypical decision in a production of this size and which caused the costs of the film to skyrocket, responded to the need for the leading characters to experience the perversions that mark a relationship characterized by degrading practices. for Elizabeth, who nevertheless assumes them obsessively, as if it were an addiction.

The foreplay in the film is pretty twisted, but it's true that more is hinted at than shown. The book on which the film is based, in fact, is much more morbid: the protagonist spends most of those nine and a half weeks that the chained relationship lasts, a prisoner of a true psychopath.

 

Already in the casting, Lyne had generated some situations of tension and hostility so that Basinger was left, in her own words, "on the edge of terror". And in the filming she perfected the technique: in each scene in which retakes had to be made, she alone spoke to Rourke, an emotional manipulation that left Basinger in a situation of extreme fragility.

Years later, Rourke (the director's obvious partner in that polluting game) would say that he felt very comfortable on set and that he greatly appreciated that the film crew had made sure that he ate well, got enough rest and could listen to music at all times. volume in the moments prior to recording the scenes.

 

 

The most distressing moment for Basinger was that of the last scene of the script: a game of master and slave seasoned with a large number of sleeping pills, which was also eliminated from the final cut of the film. Convinced that it was imperative that the actress be made as vulnerable as possible, Lyne specifically asked Rourke to mistreat her. And the actor complied: he took her partner from her arm, shook her a couple of times until she cried and finally slapped her. Unthinkable for this time, but possible at that time.

 

The memory that remains today of Lyne's film is more tied to that tumultuous shooting than to the quality of a film that, moreover, suffered censorship from the company that distributed it (MGM): they were left out of the version that premiered in February 1986 a threesome of the leads with a prostitute, a simulated rape, and a s-x scene in which Basinger wore a false mustache. Those with more memories will also be able to point out the cameo of stone Ron Wood or the excellence of a soundtrack that also included great songs by Bryan Ferry, Devo and Eurythmics. But not much else.