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