Don’t ask Robert Caro when he’s going to finish his next Lyndon Johnson book. In the documentary “Turn Every Page — The Adventures of Robert Caro and Robert Gottlieb,” that question becomes almost a running joke. “I don’t think it does me any good to think about that,” Caro, now 87, says of the possibility that he might not live to finish the final book of his five-volume Johnson biography. “I don’t want to rush it.”
He could write more quickly, he says. He could leave things out, and no one would know. But his process is his process, and he sees it as crucial to having his work endure.
Not asking when he’ll finish is also, according to an anecdote from Caro, the policy of Robert Gottlieb, who started as Caro’s editor with “The Power Broker” (1974), the author’s influential biography of Robert Moses, and has stuck with him for roughly 50 years. “I would love to be able to hang up my pencil on the last page of the last volume of his Lyndon Johnson,” Gottlieb, now 91, says in the film.
“Turn Every Page,” directed by Gottlieb’s daughter, Lizzie, sets out to illuminate a working relationship that both men believe should stay private; that’s part of the trust between an author and an editor. To an extent, they succeed in hiding, or at least in not making news. Many stories here, about their fights over punctuation or about how they chose Johnson as a subject, have surfaced before, including in Charles McGrath’s 2012 look at both men for The New York Times Magazine.
Caro, understandably, is self-conscious about having his progress recorded. Early on, he gives Lizzie Gottlieb permission to film two pages with tallies of how many words he’s written and then quickly changes his mind, hiding them from view. We get to see the precariously overstuffed cabinet above his refrigerator in which he shoves carbon copies after each day’s work. He still writes in longhand and on a typewriter; at one point, the camera catches sight of an index card at his desk that reads, “The only thing that matters is what is on this page.” When Lizzie Gottlieb succeeds, finally, in getting permission to film Caro and her father working together, there is a condition: She cannot record sound.
Even these small glimpses into Caro’s methods and compulsive revisions are bound to induce anxiety in anyone who has ever tried to finish a piece of writing. The idea that he and Robert Gottlieb, who have edited thousands of pages together, still meet prepared to go to war over semicolons defies any rational partitioning of time. Gottlieb says that he worked on “The Power Broker” for a year, longer than most other books he has edited, but that still seems short considering they cut one-third of it, and it still runs almost 1,200 pages in paperback.
“Turn Every Page” is one step away from turning into a Herzogian monument to obsession or plunging into crazed psychodrama. Instead, it is merely a great profile, filled with wit, affection and detailed stories of how the books came to be. While the film is nominally a dual portrait, the overall impression is that Lizzie Gottlieb has gravitated ever so slightly toward the Caro mystique, which might be inevitable. (Her father, as an editor, is supposed to work more invisibly.)
She may even have captured another of Caro’s great revelations in the making. At the L.B.J. Presidential Library, she films Caro researching alongside his wife, Ina. He tells Lizzie Gottlieb about rereading a telegram that he had passed over decades earlier. “It has a great significance,” he says.
The tantalizing “Turn Every Page” doesn’t reveal what that significance is. But it makes waiting that much harder.
Turn Every Page — The Adventures of Robert Caro and Robert Gottlieb
Rated PG. Running time: 1 hour 52 minutes. In theaters.
