All About Ghosts of Girlfriends Past
“Jenny is the kind of woman we all hope to have in our lives, someone who sees us for who we really are and can bring out the best in us,” says producer Jon Shestack, who credits Garner with giving Jenny “the vulnerability and intelligence that conveys, despite her sharp words, the sadness she feels for Connor and how empty his life has become. While it would be difficult to convince anyone who knows him that Connor Mead does, in fact, have an essential sweetness, deep-down, Jenny believes he does and she continues to look for it, despite everything he does to prove her wrong.”
But that sweetness, if it’s still there, is buried mighty deep. On the evening of the rehearsal dinner, Connor is pressed into delivering a toast. Out of his element, rattled by the sight of Jenny, feeling hemmed in by a house full of white tulle and flowers and emboldened by too many trips to the bar, he spews forth a predictable but no less appalling speech denouncing marriage and everything it stands for. He then beats a hasty retreat in typical Connor fashion before anyone at the table can take a swing at him-the top contenders being the bride-to-be, her father, Jenny, and possibly even Paul, who is beginning to rethink his brother’s invitation.
While it’s anyone’s guess as to how much of that rhetoric Connor truly believes, or why, producer Brad Epstein notes, “For all his popularity and success, he is completely shut down emotionally. Afraid of love. He could have the greatest thing in the world in front of him but he’s not going to see it. He can’t see the forest through the trees.”
Pay Attention, Kid. I Came a Long Way to Be Here.
Escaping the ire of the wedding party for the peace and privacy of the guest bathroom, Conner is grateful for a minute to himself. He needs to take a breath and recalibrate his cool. This weekend is going to be tougher than he imagined. Suddenly, between the sink and the…facilities, stands the ghost of Uncle Wayne.
The idol of Connor’s formative years, Wayne still looks as sharp as ever, if a little outdated. Portrayed by Michael Douglas, he is still the epitome of the fast-living playboy of a certain swinging era-complete with velvet jacket and artfully tied ascot at his open collar, not to mention the indoor shades and the requisite scotch and cigar.
Says Waters, “Michael Douglas struck the perfect note, giving the ol’ scoundrel the kind of swagger that owns a room and a charm that makes you think he could get away with doing or saying pretty much anything. Wayne is a sentimental throwback; the eternal player, eternally cool. I felt Michael could make him likeable, just as I felt that Matthew could make Connor likeable even though they’re two of the most politically incorrect roles in recent memory. They let you see the heart underneath. Although, I think in Wayne’s case you’d have to look especially hard.”
Of course, Uncle Wayne is no longer the life of the party. He’s been dead for five years. But he is crashing this wedding at his old bachelor pad in spirit form because he has a very important message for his #1 nephew, the boy who so admired him that he dedicated himself to being exactly like him. It’s a message Connor would never expect and doesn’t particularly want to hear: “Don’t waste your life the way I did, kid.”
Douglas explains. “Uncle Wayne taught Connor everything bad he ever learned about relationships, which was, essentially, not to care for any woman, to just have a good time and move on. It was the way Wayne conducted his own life, but, at the time, it was also intended to protect Connor from getting his heart broken.
“Seeing Wayne now,” Douglas continues, “you get the sense that he didn’t really want to end up the way he did. He realizes the mistakes he made in his life and is trying to save Connor from repeating them.” Consequently, he’s trying to effect some retroactive parenting with this last-ditch effort to point him in a better direction. But he’s going to need some powerful help, and he’s smart enough to enlist that help in a form to which Connor is most likely to pay attention: female.
Previewing the tumultuous hours ahead, Uncle Wayne warns Connor that he is about to be dragged through the romantic wreckage of his life by the spirits of the women who know him best, representing his girlfriends of the past, the present and the potentially terrifying future, to see if he can earn a second chance at finding-and keeping-the love of his life.
What If You Could Relive Your Past, Listen In On the Present, and Change the Future?
First up, fresh out of the 1980s, with her denim-and-lace ensemble and hair out to there, is 16-year-old Allison Vandermeersh, aka The Ghost of Girlfriends Past, played by Emma Stone. She whisks Conner back in time to when he was an earnest, sweet boy who wore his heart on his sleeve and called Jenny Perotti his best friend. Together, Allison and the adult Connor revisit the humiliation of a very significant junior high slow-dance and then skid through one wrong turn after another that put him on the road to becoming the infamous Connor Mead.
ast on the strength of her comical but touching performance in “Superbad,” Stone enjoyed pulling out all the stops as Allison, whom she calls “a firecracker. Allison is essentially a kind of hallucination, permanently stuck in the exact moment when she first crossed paths with Connor, meaning she’s still in that crazy 16-year-old state and very excitable.”
Next, to shine a light on more recent events, is Connor’s assistant Melanie, played by Noureen DeWulf. Though technically not a girlfriend, Melanie appears as The Ghost of Girlfriends Present by virtue of the fact that she’s the only consistent relationship Connor currently has with a woman. Says DeWulf, “She’s not exactly thrilled with the assignment. He already works her way too much and now she has to freelance for him on the weekend as a ghost? It’s so typical.” The upside for Melanie is that during these sequences their working relationship is reversed so that she’s the boss. She takes the weary but increasingly self-aware bachelor through the walls of some New York City apartments to see what really happens on the other end of the phone after he says goodbye.
But the scariest, by far, is The Ghost of Girlfriends Future, a silent ethereal beauty played by Olga Maliouk, who offers Connor a glimpse into what his life will become if he continues to reject real love.
“The ghost element was a great device for introducing the time traveling, and it really opened up the storytelling potential,” says McConaughey, who literally threw himself into the slapstick possibilities of some of his scenes. “There’s more freedom when you step outside the real world, there’s more room for playfulness and, in a weird way, honesty. Mark and I kept finding new ways to work with it.”
As for the logistics of what Waters calls “Ghost Rules,” that’s a question he has considered before, having negotiated the romance between a man and a ghostly woman in the 2005 comedy “Just Like Heaven.” “Sometimes actors will be concerned about details like whether or not seat cushions should visibly depress when they’re supposed to be sitting and my response is, ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s Ghost Rules.’ I feel that once the audience accepts the theatrical conceit that there are characters in play that cannot be seen or heard by everyone, they understand what you’re doing and they go with it. With a story like this, it’s not about the effects; it’s about Connor’s journey and his being present in all these revealing scenarios.”
“In his initial ghost encounters, Connor is trying to be seen and to stop things from happening but he’s powerless. Then, gradually, he stops trying to affect things physically because he realizes it’s not only useless, it’s dangerous and painful,” says McConaughey.
It also makes for moments of delicious counterpoint, notes the director, as when Connor is forced to witness a sweet scene unfold between Jenny and her unexpected new suitor Brad, in the Mead Mansion kitchen. “It’s like two different stories running simultaneously. On the one hand, it’s a classic romantic scene being played out by Jenny and Brad as they get to know each other, but at the same time there’s the disembodied Connor standing by, thinking ‘this is a nightmare, I’m bringing them together.'”
Garner agrees. “Connor is having a different experience than the rest of the wedding guests. We’re just at this weekend celebration wondering what’s wrong with him and he keeps getting crazier and crazier as the movie goes on.”
The Wedding Party
In contrast to Connor and Jenny, Paul and his fiancée Sandra are the picture-perfect couple, “a match made in heaven,” says Breckin Meyer, who stars as the groom-to-be. “Paul is made for monogamy. He believes in love. He really wants to be with Sandra for the rest of his life. As it turns out, the only family he has on his guest list is Connor, and that’s the one person who really shouldn’t be at a wedding.”
“Paul provides an interesting contrast to Connor. Initially, he’s the heart to Connor’s lothario. At first glance they appear to have nothing in common but their similarities and their connection as brothers emerge as the story develops,” suggests screenwriter Jon Lucas, whose credits with writing partner Scott Moore include the holiday hit “Four Christmases” and the upcoming comedy “The Hangover.”
“It’s a hint of Connor’s humanity and potential when you see how much he loves his brother,” adds Moore. “If he’s capable of committing to that wholeheartedly and if someone as decent as Paul supports him, well, maybe he’s not such a lost cause.”
But it’s not easy. Paul steadfastly defends his brother’s behavior for as long as he can and then reaches a point where he can’t justify it a minute longer. As Meyer inventories the damage, “Connor can’t stop sniping about marriage, he destroys the cake, he flirts with Paul’s future mother-in-law, and he even lets certain information slip out that could very well call off the wedding.”
If Paul’s damage control skills are strained to the breaking point with Connor, his general keeping-the-peace skills are equally challenged by trying to prevent Sandra from having a meltdown before she walks down the aisle.
“Mean Girls” alum Lacey Chabert, who stars as Sandra, claims “She’s not teetering on the brink of Bridezilla for the sake of being difficult. She’s really a nice girl, just emotional and under pressure. She’s been planning this wedding since she was four years old and wants everything to be perfect. For Paul’s sake, she’s glad his only brother can be there, but from the instant Connor arrives she knows he’s going to be trouble.”
In Sandra’s corner is Sarge-Sergeant Major Volkom, U.S. Marine Corps, Retired, that is, portrayed by Robert Forster. Not only is he the father of the bride, he is also officiating as minister at 15:30 hours. Not a man to mess with. Meyer quips, “A father-inlaw you have to respect is one thing; a father-in-law you have to salute is terrifying.”
“The Sarge is incredibly soft and sweet with his little Sandra, but you know he’s prepared to break Connor’s neck if he goes too far,” Waters attests. “All it takes is a look from Forster and you know what he’s thinking… and it’s not good.”
The actor, best known for his dramatic work, relished the opportunity to create some fun with Sarge, whom he describes as “a hard case ex-military who is now an ordained minister. He has a huge stake in this wedding. When Connor comes in and raises a ruckus he goes into battle mode because once you’re a soldier you’re always a soldier and when you’re a dad you’ll do anything to keep your daughter from harm.”
Starring as Sarge’s former better half, Vonda, is Anne Archer. Dressed to impress and fully liberated, Vonda has a provocatively frank exchange at the bar with Connor in which she reveals a certain empathy for his views on “antiquated” social customs like marriage-with one vital exception. Unlike Connor, she acknowledges the value of love.
Says Archer, “She’s definitely a femme fatale, the kind of woman who feels sexy at any age, which is something you still don’t see very often in films and is really refreshing. Nothing stuffy or old-fashioned about this mother-of-the-bride. She’s intelligent and has a wicked sense of humor. She’s wise about life and isn’t there to censor anyone else.”
Though Sandra’s wedding brings Vonda and Sarge together for the first time since their divorce, the question remains as to whether or not the pair will put aside their no-speaking policy long enough to share in their daughter’s happiness.
Rounding out the main cast is Daniel Sunjata (“The Devil Wears Prada”) as the eminently eligible Brad, a perfect anti-Connor type whom Sandra hopes to match with Jenny; plus Camille Guaty (TV’s “Las Vegas”), Rachel Boston (TV’s “The Ex List”) and Amanda Walsh (TV’s “Sons & Daughters”) who keep up a lively pace as bridesmaids Donna, Deena and Denice, eager for some action to get their money’s worth out of all those pre-wedding spa treatments.
Singer-songwriter and actress Christina Milian (“Love Don’t Cost a Thing”) helps to establish Connor’s persona in the film’s opening scenes by appearing as Kalia, one of his high-profile clients who follows up her photo shoot with some personal re-touching.
The Mead Mansion: Hugh Hefner Meets Martha Stewart
“Mark had something very specific in mind for the site of Paul and Sandra’s wedding,” says production designer Cary White, logging his sixth collaboration with the director on “Ghosts of Girlfriends Past.” The two considered a lot of real estate before settling upon what was to became the Mead Mansion.
The home’s interior needed to reflect two distinct themes, meant to coexist rather than clash. “We had this old playboy pad as our baseline,” White says, referring to the sumptuous wood paneling, multiple bars, animal print upholstery and details like the headboard in Connor’s bedroom prominently featuring Wayne’s masculine WM monogram. “On top of that, we layered fancy, color-coordinated wedding decoration.”
To Connor’s palpable disgust, the house is dressed to within an inch of its life with billows of tulle, clusters of white flowers and candles infusing the air with the bride’s signature scent: lavender. That ought to scare away any lingering cigar smoke.
“Outside, Mark wanted to capture the Newport sensibility, a Gatsby-esque mansion with columns and statues,” the designer explains, “which proved to be a challenging quest given that production was based in Boston and surrounding areas. The architecture of stately homes in that area all had an English Great House look, so we ended up grafting a façade onto an existing mansion in Ipswich known as the Crane Castle.”
Crane Castle provided the exteriors and some interiors of Uncle Wayne’s old haunt. Built by architect David Adler in 1928 for the Crane family, the 59-room Stuart-style mansion is now a National Historic Landmark in Massachusetts. Films fans may recognize it as the site of devilish mayhem in “The Witches of Eastwick” and as the imposing home in “Flowers in the Attic.”
“Ghosts of Girlfriends Past” filmed inside the Great House and utilized its rear patio, embellished with fake columns and entablature. White also temporarily installed a circular driveway and statuary over an existing lawn. Altogether, the filmmakers’ modifications to the property progressed a number of refurbishment projects the Trustees had already begun, including new paint and glazing and repairs to several outer walls.
Other interiors, including the library and ballroom, were created at what White calls “a derelict mansion in Wellesley that was in really bad shape. But the way it was laid out visually was perfect for shooting and the majority of the film was shot there. Seven possible entrances open to the foot of the staircase and make lots of entrances and exits possible. We had to completely renovate those rooms but it was absolutely worth it.” Combining portions of these two existing structures plus bedroom and bathroom sets constructed on soundstages completed the Mead Mansion.
Practical locations representing Connor’s world in New York City in flashback sequences included popular downtown Boston restaurants Sonsie and Les Zygomates, and Connor’s photography studio was created from a completely empty space off Channel Center Street in South Boston. Famed Boston nightclub FELT stood in for one of the story’s unique set pieces known as the Infinity Bar, an “All That Jazz” homage during which, Waters says, “Connor is surrounded in a surreal spin by every woman he has ever known, as the bar extends endlessly in every direction.”
Production also employed the Martha-Mary Chapel in Sudbury, Massachusetts, as well as approximately 90 Sudbury residents to appear as wedding guests. “We’re in the city, the country, the past, the present and the future; we have spirits, players, beautiful women, love, comedy, a wild chase, and everything has a luxurious, rich look. It’s the way you want movies to look, which is like the real world only better and shinier and prettier,” says Shestack.
With settings as grand as the Mead Mansion, Waters aimed “to put the story in a context of great expansiveness so it doesn’t play like an intimate family drama. Audiences first see Connor in the high-ceiling spaces of his office loft and then, shortly after, arriving at Uncle Wayne’s place, where his car is dwarfed in the driveway by a house that fills the screen and you get the feeling that something epic could happen here this weekend. It’s a big story about big emotions and we wanted to give the performances enough space to fill and to play it at that level.”
Ghosts of Girlfriends Past (2009)
Directed by: Mark S. Waters
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Jennifer Garner, Breckin Meyer, Lacey Chabert, Anne Archer, Amanda Walsh, Emma Stone, Michael Douglas, Camille Guaty, Rachel Boston, Amanda Walsh, Noureen DeWulf
Screenplay by: Scott Moore, John Lucas
Production Design by: Cary White
Cinematography by: Daryn Okada
Film Editing by: Bruce Green
Costume Design by: Denise Wingate
Set Decoration by: Barbara Haberecht
Art Direction by: Maria L. Baker
Music by: Rolfe Kent
MPAA Rating: PG-13 for sexual content throughout, some language and a drug reference.
Distributed by: New Line Cinema
Release Date: May 1, 2009
Visits: 103
