them into the country. To get rid of them, Ashby went down the customs queue, offering each person a cigar. He took devilish glee in watching Americans and Canadians alike puffing on their cigars, blowing smoke into the faces of the U.S. officials.
With each film, his partnership with Jewison led to greater responsibilities for Ashby, and on The Thomas Crown Affair he had an associate producer role in addition to his usual editing duties. According to Jewison, he was to act as “casting consultant, script idea man, and all-round good companion,” and the job title basically allowed Ashby to work more closely with Jewison on the film from beginning to end.5 Jewison was producing as well as directing again, and as Ashby acknowledged: “When you're really directing there's not a lot of producing you can do.”6 Ashby therefore handled whatever producing duties Jewison was too busy to fulfill. By now, the pair knew each other so well that they had a synergistic artistic and personal rapport. “I saw what a force Hal was, making Norman's creativity blossom,” says Haskell Wexler. “They were a good combo, and I don't think Norman's made as good pictures since he and Hal were partners.”7
Ashby spent little time on set and instead tinkered with the script, sorted out any problems with the day-to-day running of the production, and prepared the ground for postproduction. However, when he did venture on set, he watched closely how Jewison worked. Jewison treated his actors with kid gloves, always putting them at ease and praising them whenever possible; if he was particularly pleased with a take, he would grab McQueen and Dunaway and give them a huge bear hug. Yet despite this gentle touch, he was, according to Ashby, “more shrewd than some actors think.” Jewison had a hard-edged alter ego, “Irving Christianson,” who Jewison claimed produced his films. “Up in Boston we got a call from the Mirisches,” Ashby recounted. “They say, ‘You're a couple of days over schedule. Why don't you come back to Hollywood?' So Norman says, ‘Wait a minute, I'll ask Irving.' Then he comes back and says, ‘Irving wants to stay a few more days,' and hangs up.”8
While the company was in Boston, a special preview screening of In the Heat of the Night was organized in the city. The film's first reviews, from Variety and the Hollywood Reporter, must have somewhat disappointed Jewison, but they were extremely pleasing to the Mirisches. Both critics saw that, aside from its racial theme, the film was essentially a flimsy potboiler. In the Variety critic's eyes, the standout performances by the leads helped “overcome some noteworthy flaws,” Jewison's direction was “sometimes…pretentious,” the script was “uneven,” and the film as a whole was “a triumph over some of its basic parts.”9 The Hollywood Reporter also found Jewison's direction overly arty and thought that Heat “effects a feeling of greater importance by its veneer of social significance and the illusion of depth in its use of racial color.” Both reviews praised Ashby's editing (though Variety criticized the audacious use of long shots in the chase sequence), and, significantly, both also predicted big box office for the film, with the Reporter saying it would “emerge one of the top boxoffice winners of the year.”10
For Ashby and Jewison, it was difficult to decide whether critical or commercial success was more important. “We wanted to make a film that would make money, that people would see,” says Haskell Wexler, “and would also express our awareness that progress was being made and that human values can supersede bigotry.”11 While the three saw themselves as artists and sought validation from their intellectual peers, good box office was arguably more crucial as it meant that large numbers of people were being exposed to and, they hoped, embracing, their message of racial tolerance. In the end, they got both. When the film was released in August, the reviews were predominantly positive and the business extraordinary: by the end of 1967, it had earned an enormous $14 million. By packaging the ideas of the civil rights movement in a detective story, they had gotten their message across to mainstream America.
As was his way, Jewison shot as much of The Thomas Crown Affair on location as possible, but after twelve weeks of filming in Boston, the company returned to Los Angeles to shoot interiors on the Goldwyn lot. For Ashby, this meant he would now have to face up to his situation at home. The adoption process was moving along, and Steven had been living with Shirley and Carrie since the middle of May. Shirley had sent Ashby a Father's Day card she had made with Steven and Carrie, enclosing drawings by both children, including one of “Papa Cat.”
In Ashby's absence, Shirley was trying to keep the possibility of them being a family again in his mind, but as always Ashby's workaholic personality meant that he put editing and films first, to the detriment of his wife and children. His biggest frustration in life was that there weren't enough hours in the day to get his work done. “Great God but the time do fly,” he wrote during the filming of Heat. “Each day I tell myself I'll get further ahead and we all know what really happens don't we.”12 Shirley's main frustration was that her husband was a barely present figure in the family home.
As the marriage progressed, Shirley's relative abandonment in the home led her to spend large amounts of money on herself and the house, much to Ashby's anger and frustration. Since the 1950s, Ashby had been very careful with whatever small amount he was earning, and as he moved up the ladder and his weekly paycheck got bigger, this attitude hadn't changed.
After Thomas Crown wrapped in late September, he took some time off to try to make sense of what was going on in his life. “It took me about six weeks to go into the cutting room,” he recalled later. “I had a lot of things on my mind.”13 After carefully considering his position, he wrote an anguished letter to Shirley in which he voiced his frustrations about their current situation as well as profound doubts about his involvement in the adoption process. Clearly overwhelmed, he wrote that since Steven had arrived in their home “the emotional and financial pressures have been piled one on top of the other with an unrelenting consistency, and in such a manner, that I've finally reached the breaking point.”
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “it's difficult to describe the actual causes of emotional stress, let alone the results, for they seem to thrive on a cumulative basis. One thing hits you, then another, and another, and another, again and again, until it becomes a nebulous mass of churning anxiety. As a result, these feelings have reached the all consuming stage where I am unable to cope with them any longer. In fact, this thrashing about inside myself to find some sort of inner stamina to help carry me through these emotional assaults has brought me to a level of exhaustion and despair I didn't believe could exist without the advent of total insanity.
“The burden has increased by the mere fact that it's been over four years since I took more than three days off in a row, and I'm extremely aware of how tired I am because of this. However, the compulsions which drive me in this area are not new, and I'm used to working long stretches without time off. Now, the big difference comes when the little something inside me says you're pushing too hard; relax; go away; rest your mind and body; recharge them. Of course, I can't do this because the loss of income from a two or three week rest period, combined with the expense of going somewhere would be disastrous. Hell, it was a scramble to get three or four hundred dollars so I could go to Expo '67 for a few days.”
Ashby had calculated that during the twelve weeks he was away in Boston, Shirley had spent almost $10,000—this at a time when she was off work getting to know Steven—and he didn't believe she would become thriftier. “If I'll just tell you what to do—you'll do it!” he wrote. “However, when I ask you to look for another, less expensive place to live, the request is ignored. When I complain about $2,000.00 per year spent on schools for two children, who aren't yet (either of them) in the first grade, then it's ‘up-tight time.' It's so tight you can't even talk about it. If I ask when you plan on looking for work—again it's ‘up-tight time'—and besides everything you made would have to go towards paying somebody to care for the children. Whatever happened to that independent lady who wouldn't think of asking anything from anybody?”
Ashby wanted Shirley to become financially independent, which meant ceasing
