Groundbreaking comedian, writer and filmmaker charted her own fearlessly original path in Hollywood and the theater world over the decades. Shunning the spotlight and reluctant to talk to reporters, her name might not be as well known as her comedy partner, but Carrie Courogen鈥檚 engaging biography aims to correct that.
Courogen did not score an interview with May, who is 92 and lives in New York, but interviewed dozens of her friends and colleagues who all give valuable insight into her life and career.
Born in 1932, May had an unconventional upbringing, traveling around the country as her father, a Yiddish theater actor, performed vaudeville. She never finished high school and was devastated by the death of her father at age 12.
Whip-smart and with a fierce wit, May found herself at the University of Chicago in the 1950s and broke into the emerging comedy scene there, helping pioneer 鈥渋mprov,鈥� a style of comedy based on improvisation still prevalent today. Teaming up with her comedy soul mate, Nichols, the duo of 鈥淣ichols and May鈥� recorded hit comedy records and had a successful a Broadway show, before splitting up to pursue solo careers in 1961.
Rail thin, endlessly smoking cigars and cigarettes and known for an unkempt appearance, May brought exacting perfectionism to every project, for better or worse, from acting, to directing, to writing plays. She worked on the screenplay for 1978's 鈥淗eaven Can Wait鈥� and the 1996 Nichols film 鈥淭he Birdcage.鈥� She was a highly sought-after script doctor, brought in to punch up screenplays for films including 1981鈥檚 鈥淩eds鈥� and 1982鈥檚 鈥淭ootsie,鈥� though she usually refused to be credited.
But while her successes may have gone under the radar, her failures were legendary. Commitment to finding the 鈥渢ruth鈥� in every scene, often through improvisation, led to arduous film shoots. Directing the 1976 crime caper 鈥淢ikey and Nicky,鈥� she shot 1.4 million feet of film 鈥� 259 hours of raw footage 鈥� and then edited it for over a year. Paramount eventually sued her to turn over the film.
Her next directing debacle was 1987鈥檚 high-profile flop 鈥淚shtar,鈥� a buddy comedy filmed in Morocco. Deserved or not, Courogen writes, 鈥淚shtar鈥� became a punchline and shorthand for box office disaster.
鈥淚f all the people who hate 鈥業shtar鈥� had seen it, I would be a rich woman today,鈥� May quipped 20 years after the release.
May never directed a feature film again, though she kept busy with other projects, including winning a In recent years, May has been recognized by newer generations as the maverick she is, a director of movies that stayed true to her vision even if it meant being labeled a 鈥渄ifficult鈥� woman director. She paved the way for women writer-directors like Greta Gerwig, Lena Dunham, Natasha Lyonne and others who sing her praises, and has been . Courogen鈥檚 biography adds to the growing chorus restoring May to her rightful place as a 鈥� however reluctant 鈥� Hollywood icon.
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AP book reviews:
Mae Anderson (), The Associated Press
