This is a run of articles I have wanted to write for a very long time. When we talk about the greats of the world of cinema, many names are rightfully discussed. But I always like to throw one very specific name in; Mike Nichols. I strongly believe that Mike Nichols was the greatest director of all time, perhaps not in the world of film and perhaps not in the world of theatre, but when it comes to tackling both mediums with complete perfection repeatedly, there really is no other name you want to mention - as well as we will find in later articles touching upon the world of TV also. Over the next five articles or so, I’m going to look at every single one of the films that Mike Nichols directed to try and prove my case to you. For as a performer, writer, director and producer, I really don’t think there is any argument for the amount of pure and undiluted talent and quality that Nichols created, birthed and moulded in multiple places within the world of art.

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Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)

Edward Albee’s masterpiece of theatre may indeed be my favourite play of all time and that naturally has a great emphasis on its positioning on my list of my favourite films of all time. However, Sweet Bird of Youth is my second favourite play and I wouldn’t dream of putting that film anywhere near the top 100 of any of my film rankings. What makes this film so special and masterful is Nichols' adaptation of the play to the screen, along with Haskell Wexler’s impeccable cinematography. This for me is the perfect stage to screen adaptation, utilising the form that it has chosen to now tell the story in. Virginia Woolf is certainly not the ideal play to adapt with ease to the screen, with a major lack of settings and only four characters. But what many would see as reasons not to turn this into a film, Nichols saw chances to maximise the medium of film to tell this story in the most complete way imaginable. Repeatedly Nichols’ allows us to view the small reaction moments and offstage ruminations that we don’t have the chance to zoom in on or even see in certain cases when we tell this incredible piece onstage. The stark black and white cinematography only furthers the brutal beauty of this tale of bitter and twisted true love. Punctuated by the four leads' note perfect performances, this swiftly lifts from the page and becomes more than its own beast. The power and punch of the play remains wholly intact, whilst every cinematic touch and intricate use of expanding the piece leads to a simply superb 2 hours and 11 minutes of celluloid. Oh, and good God is it funny. Maybe I’m sick, but I laugh harder at this film than most comedies released today. Yet, when it comes to the third and final act of this piece (aptly titled “The Exorcism” in the playbook), there is no more vulnerable image ever put on a screen than Elizabeth Taylor as she recalls a memory that never was. The dialogue is perfect and still just as cutting and diabolically clever as it was all those years ago. Albee really write did a perfect piece of literature.

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Let’s talk about Elizabeth Taylor. Yet another misunderstood idol. People don’t talk about Taylor for the right reasons. It is often the footnote where people discuss her genuine talent when it came to delivering roles with tremendous strength and volatility. Compare Martha to Cleopatra for instance; that comparison alone can show exactly all you need to know about this wonderful actress and why this performance is one of the greatest shows of acting of all-time. Her performance is of such a strength and power that you immediately forget how young and beautiful she truly is, all we can see is Martha and what a sight she is. As for Burton, well. Vulgar, pained, vitriolic and bitter to no end. There is nothing but pain behind the glasses of George in Burton’s hands. No matter how many times he attempts to mask such pain with wit and banter, the pain is always there leading the film, as uncomfortable as it is to watch. A masterpiece of acting that I would put up against any of his Shakespearean turns, for with the humanity of Albee’s words, Burton finds all new depths and we have the pleasure of seeing them. Commercially the film was of course helped to no end by the real life nature of the Taylor and Burton relationship, however there was of course great love in that pairing too  and that’s what people often forget when it comes to this play and this film. Without love there would be none of the pain frankly. Burton and Taylor are matched more than enough by George Segal and Sandy Dennis, making this quartet of bitter, booze-ridden vehicles of wit and vulgarity a more than suitable gang to make Nichols film debut an immediate and complete triumph.  

The Graduate (1967)

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The Graduate really is a timeless piece of work, adapted to the screen by Calder Willingham and Buck Henry’s from Charles Webb’s novel of the same name; which was an instantaneously seminal novel that birthed the immediately iconic modern Mike Nichols film in the late 1960’s, that won him his first and regrettably sole Best Director Oscar. The novel/film/play follow 20 year old Benjamin Braddock as he, you guessed it, just finished graduating, as he traverses at first a love affair with one of his mothers friends, the immediately unforgettable character of Mrs Robinson, before realising for reasons of love, cultural belief and simple unignorable feeling that in actuality he is more in love with a woman named Elaine. The issue being that Elaine is in fact Elaine Robinson, the daughter of the mature woman he’s been sleeping with for the summer. The Graduate began as a novel, before being adapted to film, before even in this past 20 years also being adapted to stage. And whereas the stage adaptation has its moments, there is something ingenious about the way in which Nichols tells the liminal tale of Braddock’s ever-changing state on film that makes it pitch perfect. However ultimately what can’t be removed or thwarted in any medium is the distinct wit, charm, humour and drama of the original Charles Webb novel and the Buck Henry scripting of the film adaptation. Although I feel that of all the products I have mentioned, novel, film, stage, that Mike Nichol’s critically and commercially beloved film is the best and most complete serving of the story of Benjamin Braddock, I feel that all really do have things to offer. One could make the argument very easily for The Graduate to be commented on as Nichols best film as a very easy case to make, for not only did it win him his Oscar, but I think above any of his other films it best encapsulates the greatest strengths creatively the men ever had. In the fine blending of slapstick comedy, deep human drama, dry wit and uncomfortable romance – we find a true master of tone, which may still be the most truthful thing one could and always will be able to say about Nichols.

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It’s hardly the "boy meets girl" that we’re used to. As a matter of fact, it’s "boy meets friend of his mother's, starts affair, ends affair, boy meets daughter of friend of his mother's, starts affair, friend of mother ends affair, boy stops wedding, boy and girl sit and contemplate the rest of their life". I sometimes wonder what would have happened if the camera-man had heard Nichols (on the most top form he’s ever been on) say cut and the film didn’t keep with Ben and Elaine in the back of that bus. I do still think the film would be one of my all time favourites, I do still think it would be as acclaimed as it currently is. The ending would still work as well as it does and the whole hour and half before it would still be as awkwardly hilarious and brilliantly dark as it has always been, but the bitter-taste feeling left by that ending, punctuated by just one of Simon and Garfunkel’s many amazing contributions to the film, leads you to think about the film for days on end. Or in my case, 10 years on end. First off we have to discuss Anne Bancroft as the immediately iconic Mrs Robinson. I think people forget that Bancroft’s performance is more than pure titillation. There is plenty of titillation; her seductive nature in the role encapsulates sex in a way that hadn’t been seen on screen before with this much quality of humour and truth. But I find only one word truly befitting; 'pathos'. The pain in the performance and the delivery of the scene where we find out about Mrs Robinson’s previous love for the world of art, leads us to look at the film through an entirely different lens and that’s more than just the writing and directing – that’s Bancroft, through and through. Then there’s Hoffman as Benjamin Braddock. One of truly the greatest breakthrough performances of all time. An iconoclast in the making, we view Hoffman breath vital life and breed an unnatural stillness into the comedic genius character of Benjamin Braddock. The subtle humour and clear brilliance of the performance I believe can be rooted back seven years earlier to the likes of Jack Lemmon in another of my favourite films; The Apartment. The same sort of humbling naivety can be seen in both Lemmon’s C.C Baxter and Hoffman’s Braddock, all imbued with a childish innocence and a humorous level of incompetence at times. The Graduate will remain timeless, because frankly it was out of time to begin with.

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The 60’s were only the beginning of what would develop over the time to become one of the most celebrated careers in directing the world ever saw. There is of course the talent of his own acting that I have as yet not mentioned also, with him also featuring in an absurdly well acclaimed turn as George in a stage production of Virginia Woolf? with Elaine May as Martha, his partner in performance for many, many years prior to his directing career kicking off. If Nichols had only directed these two films, he would have received much of the acclaim he still does today. But to then direct any of the other excellent works he did after this, as well as a formative career in comedy performance, as well as producing and shepherding so much talent on stage and screen; one really can’t argue that even if he’s not THE greatest, Mike Nichols is certainly one of the greats.

-       -   Thomas Carruthers