THE HEART OF HOLLYWOOD

Years ago, I used to write screenplays and try to break into the movie business, here in L.A. I knew the ex-wife of a famous director, and she still worked as his assistant.

I would send her outlines and treatments and ideas, and then talk to her on the phone. She would give me tips and try to help me write something they might want to buy. She was his "D girl," for development.

One time, she invited me to come to the Fox lot for lunch.

I thought that sounded like fun. By the time I drove up from Orange County, it was a week or two since I had sent her my latest outline, and I was working on something else. I had forgotten what I sent her.

So I checked in at the guard house and drove onto the Fox lot.

Carol was in a small outer office and the famous director was inside on the phone. The walls were lined with shelves stacked with dozens of screenplays, on their sides, their names written in black ink on their spines.

This was the real deal, the heart of Hollywood. 

I thought I was just there to schmooze. As we walked out the door and down the steps on the way to the commissary, she said, "Well, tell me your story."

I thought, Oops, which story?

"OK," she said, to cover my awkward mumbling, "How many people get killed?"

"I don't know," I said, "maybe six."

"Not enough," she said, as we were walking along. "John's movies usually have about forty."

Jesus, I thought, forty?

Then she said, "Is there a love story? John's movies always have heart."

That stopped me cold. Forty killings. Lots of blood and gore. And heart.  

We went ahead and had lunch, and I don't recall anything else we said. Needless to say, they never developed any of my ideas or bought any of my scripts.

But I learned something about Hollywood.
You gotta have heart. Lots of heart. 

Copyright 2011, Roger R. Angle