Writing the personality profile

Folio: The Magazine for Magazine Management, April, 1989 by Peter P. Jacobi

The first 15 minutes or so of the film Diary of a Mad Housewife concentrates not on the housewife, but on her husband, a preppy, self-centered monster who, as played with brilliance by Richard Benjamin, causes women in the theater to boo and men to gag and groan. Yes, the film is about the housewife, but her dilemma is shaped by those around her, most of all her beastie of a husband. She has become a victim, an almost willing slavey. Watching her react and fail to react to the husband is to see her revealed. It's a screenwriter's and/or an editor's master stroke.

O'Connell Driscoll opens his Lewis profile this way:

And then they say, "Now, ladies and gentlemen, here's the star of our show," and we both come out and go for the microphone, and you grab it and start right in, "Good evening, folks, it's so great to be here in Miami," and I say, "Wait a minute, what are you doing here? I'm supposed to be on first, I'm supposed to open the show," and we go back and forth like that until you say--no, I say--"Look, didn't you see the sign when you came up to the hotel? Didn't you see that name up there with all the neon lights? Well, that's me." And then you look and take a beat and say, "Oh, you must be Air Conditioning."

Milton Berle stopped to light his cigar, "You have to be sure to take that beat, Jerry," he said. "Then you say, 'Oh, you must be Air Conditioning.'"

Jerry Lewis looked at Berle but said nothing. He stood in his narrow dressing room backstage at the Deauville Hotel, dressed in a tuxedo, holding a plastic cup of white wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He took a sip of the wine.

"So then I'll say, 'Look, Jerry, why should you be on first?' And you say, 'Well, you heard me last night,' and I say, 'Yeah, you were very funny,' and you say, 'Funny? Are you kidding--you could hear them laughing across the street.' I say, 'Oh, really? What was playing over there?'"

Berle puffed on his cigar, then reached out and grabbed Lewis by the arm. "Listen, Jerry, I have to tell you about the ending." Lewis dropped his eyes quickly to where Berle held him, then raised them again.

The situation continues through nearly half a page more of magazine type. Milton Berle remains throughout these paragraphs the active element, the instigator of movement in the article. With increasing queasiness we give him our attention. But the story, of course, is not about Berle but about Jerry Lewis, and we sense that almost from the start. Although Berle may seem to be at center stage, he really is on the side. Jerry Lewis may seem at the side, but he really is in the spotlight. That spotlight at the moment is dim. It will become brighter and brighter as author Driscoll turns his full attention on the true star of the show, of the article. And that, too, is a master stroke.

The indirect can be the most potent approach. The context, the interactions can provide the key. An editor must help the writer find the key and approach.

Finding that something special