I was reading PREMIERE the other day and came across
a statement by Bette Midler: she said Hollywood was being run by callow
young men. Which makes a certain amount of sense, coming from Bette, because
she's still hurting over FOR THE BOYS. But it also interested me because,
as a screenwriter, I like to keep tabs on who's running Hollywood -- and
it reminded me of an interview I'd recently seen on the American Movie
Channel. Karl Malden. And although he didn't come out and call the maverick's
(I use this term loosely) of today's studios "callow young men," he did
say he missed the old studio system. Why? Because in those days, the people
who made movies loved movies. Draw your own conclusions there. . . .
And perhaps I wouldn't be taking this all so seriously, if it wasn't for
several conversations I recently had. You see, in one instance, I was
speaking to a development executive. Someone who decides what the studio
is interested in looking at. Someone who makes movies. Someone who presumably
has an interest in and knowledge of movies, right? Well, draw your own
conclusions. . . .
I'd managed, in my query letter, to pique this development guy's interest
enough for him to pick up the phone and call me -- hey, miracles happen
-- and here I was, up and coming young screenwriter, on the phone with
a big shot.
"So," says my erstwhile victim, "what's this script about?"
"Well," says I, "it's a modern day BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE."
Silence.
"Are you familiar with BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE?," I ask, beginning to sweat.
"No."
"Jimmy Stewart? Kim Novak?," I prompt hopefully.
Nope. Not a clue. And the room went very cold for me, as I realized this
person did not spend his childhood glued to the television watching old
black and white movies. His parents didn't force him outside on weekends
in hopes he'd get a tan. In fact, his vision probably wasn't permanently
impaired by the rays my mother swore would come out of "that machine"
and blind me. And he didn't know BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE. He didn't know
IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. He didn't know PHILADELPHIA STORY or MR. SMITH
GOES TO WASHINGTON. And he sure as hell didn't know what a Pooka was.
But this was not my first horrific shock. Oh no. No sooner did I recover
from the BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE fiasco (you'd be amazed how many people
have never heard of that movie), I experienced another set back.
"So, tell me about this script," drawled a new erstwhile victim -- referring,
in this instance, to a new, erstwhile script.
"This Orange County debutante runs away from home and gets mixed up with
survivalists."
Silence.
"Are you familiar with the survivalist movement?"
"No."
"People who stock pile guns and food?"
"Like that Waco thing?"
"Uh, no. . . those were religious fanatics. Survivalists are waiting for
World War III."
Silence.
Now come on. This is current. Fer gosh sakes, Robin Williams and Walter
Mathau were in a movie centered around survivalists. Bo Griz ran for president.
Yuppies go to retreats and toss paint pellets at each other. But this
guy had never heard of survivalists. . . .
So what's left? Old movies are out. Fringe elements are out. That leaves.
. . buddy cops? But hey, I'm sweating. What happens when I pick up the
phone next time?
"So, what's this script about?," drawls my new erstwhile victim -- in
relation to yet another new, erstwhile script, or so one hopes.
"It's this black cop and this white cop investigating a murder committed
by organized mercenaries."
Silence.
Beginning to sweat: "And the black cop is approaching retirement and the
white cop who gets assigned as his new partner has a death wish. . . ."
More silence.
"Uh, are you familiar with LETHAL WEAPON?"
"Nope."
Draw your own conclusions.
*originally published in Written By, reprint in Rumble Girls
