Blackened Big Fish: The Dark Side Of Hollywood

"Blackened Big Fish: The dark side of Hollywood and the people who thrive there." If, in my current mood, I decided to write one this would be the title of my tell-all. There is a morbid, borderline pornographic fascination with movie stars that with each new headline appears unquenchable. I don't understand the curiosity unless it's used as a comparison that reassures us mortals that our lives are better off as is.

Do we need to know "Mel B hired a witch doctor to get Eddie Murphy back?", that "Keith Urban cheated on Nicole while they were engaged", that "Cris Judd isn't mad at ex-wife Jennifer Lopez?" Do we really need to know that Brittany Spears parties without panties? (Apparently, and according to Google, we do)

Now (those of you left) can point fingers and say I am writing about Hollywood so I'm guilty by association. Perhaps I am. But I have tried to stay in the realm of the positive, the uplifting, the creative. Well, the last month or so, I have gone to the dark side. And this is why there has been a dearth of writing. I suppose 'dearth' would be an exaggeration since it implies a shortage.

I also suppose it's ironic that the day before the largest holiday in the western world I finally had the time to write a post but the subject is not spiked with Christmas Cheer. (That by itself puts a Grinchian smile on my face.)

My instinct says the dark side always leaves a scar so I have stayed away from it for several months. But the Reel Hollywood wouldn't be real without a few stormy nights. And the truth is I do have some scars after this long in the business. On the lighter side I see an end to this particular gloomy night inside of the next two months. The challenge will be to walk on those two coals without getting burned. And the challenge is probably good for the ego. I think it's ultimately cleansing for the soul but not a helluva a lot of fun while you're doing it.

Without names I can tell you I am working for the devil and his mentor-father. They are despotic filmmakers whose fate has propelled them to such heights that they cannot be brought down unless divine intervention prevails. I know it sounds dizzyingly melodramatic but that's Hollywood. And right now these guys are at the top of the heap.

These are snakes appearing as men. With two heads, one can charm while the other can spray venom accurately into the face and eyes of their hires. Their need for acting like mean, unpredictable alcoholics is likely rooted in their insecurity. Their biggest fear, I would guess, is that their peers discover they have no inate talent.

So how did they get there? Beats me unless the definition of inate talent includes the ability to fool masses of people. In that they excel. These are not dumb luck fools. They know how to hire expendable creatives. They know how to talk and act like real filmmakers. The world is their oyster (whatever that means) and people would kill to work with them. Now that's irony.

The good thing (for me) is I don't wish them ill will. My recent go-round left me with a bruised ego and the gut nausea feeling like I wanted to throw up for a day. Had I not offered to walk, things may have gotten worse. (I was later offered an apology by one of the producers) Still these guys are like dead bees - they can still sting and that is where the challenge lies. To walk on the ground barefooted and avoid the deadbees. That means to go in each day not knowing anything based on prior knowledge. Today can be a neutral day or an explosive one.

On the plus side I am being paid top dollar to work with these guys which is Hollywood's way of assuaging its guilt. (If it is possible for Hollywood to feel guilt) Therefore I have only myself to blame. Actually I am being overpaid by my usual fees. And according to my friend who knows these guys - "You aren't being overpaid for nothing."

On the bright side we're gonna have a helluva Christmas. I know, I know.... It's about the spirit of giving, reaching out to old friends, giving to strangers and feeling the love of hummankind. As I write my two girls are seated on the couch and playing together like a couple of angels in the manger. And as god is my witness I hope they never end up in Hollywood.

Happy Chanukah. Merry Christmas. Seriously. Happy Holidays.

Portnoy

Good Morning Chief Bromden

Lately it's been a lot of staring into space with no payoff from space. I am staring for an idea. To the outsider I probably look like BROMDEN.

My wife asks if I can pop in 3 waffles as she hurriedly readies the girls for school. I have not written in days. I would like to tell her I'm busy staring into space waiting for a post.

What passes through my mind is the following excerpt from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

INT. MEN'S DORM - OREGON STATE HOSPITAL - DAWN

Strange HUMMING SOUNDS, CLANKING PIPES and HISSING RADIATORS
as we see beds, with patients lying asleep, line two walls.
The third wall is a heavy gauge steel grill, with a door that
opens on to the day room. The door is open. On the far side
of the day room, a long hallway with other doors opening into
rooms: the latrine, washroom, tub room, mess hall, seclusion
room, psychiatrist's office, visitors' room, etc.

Across the day room, a glass enclosed nurses' station where
TURKLE, a Negro night attendant, is seen preparing to go off
duty.

The CAMERA PANS the beds in the men's dorm. One man turns,
another twists, a third lies as if dead.

CAMERA PAN ENDS on BROMDEN, who lies still, eyes wide open,
very alert. He reaches down, plucks a stale piece of gum from
under the bed frame, puts it in his mouth and starts chewing.

Maybe some gum would help. The wife and kids have left. It's quiet now. No excuses. If we had a clock it would be ticking to distraction. The time is dragging me towards work. I could lie to myself. If I only had enough time I could write the best damn post ever. BUZZ says the BS detector in my head. 'No, really,' BUZZZ. 'Stop calling me a liar!' BUZZ. Okay, uncle.

Why do kids say 'Uncle'? I should google that.

What's wrong with this picture?

I am now the Head of a major motion picture studio. It is my job to greenlight movies and television. I have unlimited funds but I am also responsible to the shareholders. The stories, the cast, the music, the final say is entirely up to me. This is what I would do.

I would hire 5 full time writer consultants. And these would be very experienced writers who have a track record in creating a traditional 3 act screenplay. These writers would read and comment on the top scripts that are in development/submission process. Remember the guys who chased Butch and Sundance? Those are the guys I would hire. And they would be paid handsomely. They would be happy, funny and crotchety all at the same time.

Before shooting any film the script would be in perfect working order. Meaning exactly that. Could they be modified in shooting? Possibly if the direction or character takes on a life of its own.

I have 15 shooting stages on my lot. I would keep them all busy with films of modest budgets. Every film would include a budget for additional shooting.

I would make one blockbuster (tentpole) film a year. (with a script that is in perfect working order)

I would create an internship program that finds new talent in every area of film making and hook these 'kids' up with the departments they are interested in.

I would create a documentary film boutique and a vanity film department. The vanity films would be the projects that are difficult to make but close to the heart of the film maker. To participate in a vanity project the filmmaker would need a proven track record. I would make sure the vanity film offers participation to every key player involved in the film since everyone takes a huge hit to their usual salaries.

I would create an animation department and get Miyazaki to run it even if we had to buy an animation studio in Japan.

I would cultivate foreign films and filmmakers like never before.

I would rein in A list salaries by offering legitimate participation. I would also create an in house casting department where actors are found through legit theatre and other venues. There would be a secret motto in my casting department. It would say something like this "we don't hire models, we hire actors" I would offer Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Reese Witherspoon, Angelina Jolie and actors of quality extra incentives. They could make any vanity project they wanted.

I would take a reasonable but not ridiculous amount of money to run the studio.

Once production starts the studio would take a hands off approach to the film maker. Let directors direct with all of the creative powers they have. If a film isn't working it is our fault because the script didn't work in the first place.

For the TV department I would hire WC Dixon, Dennis McGrath, Ken Levine and anyone else they wanted except Aaron Sorkin. (Just kidding boys)

So that's my idea on how to save the film business. Create a company where people love coming to work on movies that just might say a little something. Or not. Comments certainly welcome. If I get any major studio offers I will also get those 5 writers to contribute to Reel Hollywood.

As a side note - at my Mom's Thanksgiving dinner she has a friend who is a cop. He came by on his motorcycle, in full uniform. He ate with us. I mentioned the Chris Rock video on how not to get your ass kicked by the police. He laughed and said it was awesome. At the end of the meal he quoted from the Rock video. And I wish I had a video camera because you would have seen an East Indian motorcycle cop saying "He got weed, he got weed!"