THE POSSESSIVE IS NINE-TENTHS OF THE TITLE

By Lauren David Peden

From The New York Times, 11.28.1993, Late Edition--Final

These days, with every Scorsese, Coppola and De Palma getting his name above the movie title, the sign that one has truly arrived is to have one's name part of the title. Consider Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas and an independent movie that is being advertised as Abel Ferrara's 'Dangerous Game.' Opening last week was George Balanchine's The Nutcracker, though in this case the bow goes to the late artistic director of the New York City Ballet, not to the movie's director, Emile Ardolino.

According to a representative from the Walt Disney Studios, Mr. Burton's name became part of The Nightmare Before Christmas because he created the characters and the studio wanted to give him credit for that. His name, needless to say, was also a selling point for young audiences who appreciated his macabre sense of humor in movies he directed like Edward Scissorhands, the Batman films and Beetlejuice.

Putting a big name in a movie title is clearly an attempt to market the film to a wider audience. "Everybody's looking for an edge, and any edge will do," says Stephen King, a writer who has had considerable experience with having his name floated in close proximity to movie titles.

Mr. King has no qualms about lending his name to a movie--even if he doesn't like the film. "My rule of thumb is this," he says. "If it is based on my book or short story, fine. You can call it Stephen King's Graveyard Shift, or whatever. I hated Graveyard Shift. I thought it was an awful movie. But it was more or less based on my story."

Which isn't to say that he grants permission to use his name out of hand--as New Line Cinema learned when it released what it called Stephen King's Lawnmower Man, a film that borrowed its title, and one small scene, from a story in Mr. King's collection "Night Shift." He won a suit against New Line for, as he puts it, "hijacking" his name and for false advertising. (New Line does not dispute Mr. King's version of events but will not comment further.) "They ended up coughing up about $3 million for that little baby," Mr. King says.

"I'm sympathetic to the idea that people want to use my name to sell the movie," he says. "But my name is all I've got, really. After a while it gets to the point where you're really on a par with the 'Good Hands' people or 'Sherwin Williams--We Cover the Earth.' You become sort of a trademark."

Using trademark names in movies is an old custom, most notably with directors who specialize in intensely personal films. The Japanese director Akira Kurosawa released the highly acclaimed Akira Kurosawa's Dreams in 1990. The late Federico Fellini often added his name to the titles of his movies, as in Fellini's Satyricon, Fellini's Roma and Fellini's Casanova. While Ken Russell does not make his name a part of his movie titles, his films are so distinctive that no one would think of saying Lisztomania without preceeding it with Ken Russell's.

Andy Warhol, that master marketeer, plugged his own name in such underground movies as Andy Warhol's Dracula and Andy Warhol's Frankenstein. In fact, using a name along with those two movies has become a mini-industry in itself: In addition to Bram Stoker's Dracula last year, moviegoers were offered Roger Corman's Frankenstein Unbound, in 1990, and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is being filmed.

By putting a director's name in the title, a studio is aiming to clarify which version is which, or acknowledging that the particular film represents a director's vision. Mr. Ferrara's Dangerous Game was previously called Abel Ferrara's Snake Eyes, until the film makers discovered that Snake Eyes had already been taken.

Mr. Ferrara has been described by Janet Maslin in The New York Times as "a Martin Scorsese who had chosen to make nothing but B movies." The addition of his name "distinguishes the movie," says Ashley Boone, president of marketing and distribution at MGM, which is releasing the film. "You wouldn't say Roma, " Mr. Boone explained. "You would say Fellini's Roma, because the talent associated with it is so potent."

Yes, but what about people who might be turned off by the potent talent Mr. Ferrara showed (along with the undertone of violence and depravity) in his last film, Bad Lieutenant? Wasn't the studio worried about alienating potential viewers? Mr. Boone reasoned, "Then they won't go to see it, and there won't be negative word of mouth." The studio is featuring Mr. Ferrara's name prominently on posters and in advertisements.

But the notion may be getting out of hand. New Line Cinema wants to lure viewers into theaters next spring with Bruce Brown's The Endless Summer II, a sequel to his 1966 surf documentary, The Endless Summer. The original film was made on a shoestring budget and became a cult hit, grossing more than $30 million. New Line is hoping to replicate that success on the strength of Mr. Brown's name. "Surfers are an immensely loyal group, and Bruce Brown is a god to them," says Chris Pula, president of theatrical marketing for New Line. "We want to be able to capitalize on that." Ultimately, says Mr. Pula, using a name is "an additional marketing tool. And in this day and age, I'll grab any extra hook I can get."