Chapter 24. Jessica’s Pitch

Thursday September 25, 2008

I parked the Porsche at the studio commissary where Jessica would pitch her idea to me. It was the type of things that had to be done face-to-face. Jessica had access to an office that could be private and included a real casting couch for more intense discussions, but we both agreed that for a serious talk, where our time was an issue, that very pleasant distraction would not be productive.

I had read her instructions. Jessica had a new script project she was working on, it was projected as a big blockbuster with a huge cast. Well, Hollywood is where dreamers dream their great dreams, and sometimes they exceed them. Movies can become so much more than the author’s story. “The Godfather,” “Clockwork Orange,” “Funny Girl,” the opening sequence of “Fiddler On A Roof,” plus the closing number in “All That Jazz” all come to mind as experiences that dwarfed the written page, and surpassed what even dreamers thought was possible.

But sometimes dreams seem promising until it is too late and they go the other way. Ever hear of Pluto Nash? That one almost killed the monster career of the “Beverly Hills Cop” in one shot, it drove him off camera into voice work as a real ass following a troll named “Shrek.” Or how about Gigli? Two giant stars were awarded the high tribute of one combined name by the press, right up until that movie saw the light of day, and dimmed the sun - like a total eclipse lasting over 2 hours for those poor souls who were driven by unfulfilled hope to stay until the end. Very few paying customers sang praises, except to give thanks that it wasn’t longer. Even the folks in the Hollywood press corp, people who are paid to sing praises no matter what, could not turn that around. Afterwards? The wedding planner and the “Will Hunting” co-author canceled their wedding, I guess the box office dictated that their dreams became actual nightmares.

For this particular dream of nonlinear storytelling (think “Pulp Fiction,” which jumped between characters over time), the writing outlines for different characters deliberately broken up the story. Each main character was given to different writers who would not communicate. The Director would shuffle the screen time for each character (in an positive creative way) then “knit” the individual character scripts together for a groundbreaking innovative movie. I notice that, in California, great works and great disasters both involve ground breaking. No stars were attached yet, it was just an outline. Maybe Harrison Ford would do the off camera narrator. But really that is where they all start, before the money people start to screw it up.

Jessica mentioned that “The Lord Of The Rings” followed two or three or even five tracks at times and was very successful, even if one feature character in a track was a walking slowly-talking tree. “This vision features five tracks throughout the entire story, maybe more, to be arranged in a non-chronological order as each character is looking back. If it works it will be Academy Awards for sure.”

I had to point out, “The Lord Of The Rings” didn’t need knitting, it started with one author and the star was that author even if he was dead, his images reverberated in his words that created characters who inspired legions of fans. Still, it made lots of money. “I will grant you a set of characters with different writers might work simply based on the imbued depth of each character, assuming the ‘knitter’ is good at his craft, but that is always an issue and nobody has a perfect record. Still, it does make some sense to have multiple advocates for each character in the final story. So, what are you looking for from me?” I didn’t see where I fit in, writing was her thing. She even had an award.

We both knew she was not looking for an investor, even if she knew the truth drug dealers are not “throw away money” rich.

“What I need is a state of mind, actually ... about sex.” Well, her answer was succinct. It also seemed improbable, and very appealing.

She was assigned to write a critical character named Lora. This was a woman who enlisted as a ‘comfort woman’ to a combat squad. If Jessica’s writing was good enough she would have input in casting the part, which she considered a huge perk in the writing community, especially if she had a actor to base it on. Her character could go either way, either predictable or a standout star.

The hitch was, as we both knew, despite her age and looks Jessica had little actual experience at sex, unless it involved tired old lawyers. To help her “get a feel,” Jessica needed some experience as a real whore, a woman who satisfied her clients and what they wanted. But that was complicated by the setting.

I will say she never would have thought of this before her fight with her stepfather when he got wind of a date she had with somebody he did not know and she would not tell. Then, out of nowhere, Abril’s loose lips slip at their mutual weekly nipple nibbles which gave Jessica a target to focus on. That made her think of me, or rather, some experience that I might hook her up with.

She stressed “Lora” was not an LA street whore, doing strangers because it was her only marketable skill set. Jessica’s “Lora” was a cultured pre-citizen in service to the state, like a soldier in a state where citizenship was earned through service, not gifted as a prize at birth. Her society appreciated what she was doing giving her private body to those troopers to use for physical relief, possibly the last pleasure before they went to their death. It was a classic Heinlein “Starship Troopers” theme, a view from a man who served in war, and an idea that I could get behind. (I’m talking about the book. I can’t say the movie made valid points, as bloodless satire for widespread public consumption it really gave us nothing new.) The role in question was set in a dystopian future, sci-fi set on a distant planet where front-line drop-combat troops in their barracks on a space station were assigned a woman for the squad to share sexually. Just like food, weapons and sleep, this enlightened future society recognized sexual release as a basic human need for the soldiers to function at their best. So the state provided what was needed, some ‘body’ to sex with close to the front, before and after combat. The troops were volunteers from planets/societies with military traditions. Likewise, the comfort women were trained, skilled willing volunteers from other planets/societies that held a positive view of actively giving pleasure to others. Like nuns who service more earthly needs.

She explained the underlying theme, that both roles (killing on orders, fucking to give pleasure on orders) are atypical of their experience in civil society. People go to jail for both ‘crimes.’ But in war unusual roles are thrust on people. Accepting those roles to serve the state is the nature of an engaging civic duty that earns one the right to vote and to be elected.

Jessica needed some insight into the sex worker, and she was wondering if I might know a few mercenary types, men away from home who carried lethal weapons on the job and who could use a ration of sexual relief. Clearly these were not typical folks. If I happened to have some volunteers available she proposed to “play the role” with them. She was sure my guys could enjoy her body for the usual fun. (I agreed it was a very good body.) Along with a lot of sperm she would get the valuable mental perspective she needed for her script, and maybe improve some of her personal choices as a side benefit. She assumed I was confident of the guys, she would enjoy it much more than being pimped out by her daddy once every month, which was never much fun for her and now looked a lot worse, like an unsavory chore. She was old enough now, and for the sex she got those roughly 30 nights she spent with old lawyers were all she really knew of sex up until Labor Day when my team of young lawyers bid big, make her feel worth something, won the use of her body, and taught her a lot about pleasure on the nights that followed. She felt she won big.

I had said that she had a brilliant mind but she really needed to get a life and drag it to her bed to service her body more often, to give her some balance between mind and body.

She replied that now she was telling me that this was her new start, jumping right into what I proposed.

Thanks to Abril’s slip-up Jessica knew that I was the boss of a unique group, she just didn’t know the details. But she really did not need to know the details, her focus was on people who carried weapons. So she began her pitch, a mix of drama to build interest and humor to relive the tension and give the ending we all felt good about.

Like her fictional character, my troopers were earning a place in society. After their service we called them retainers but in fact their function was like the various fictional Lords of Olde England. (The Colony was not really about democracy in any form.) Retainers didn’t vote, when the Patron asked they discussed while their leaders looked for a consensus with broad, well-considered support. It was not efficient, but limiting discussion to those sober souls who were thoughtful, educated and committed was better than a popularity contest where each personality is sold like dishwashing detergent, with deceptive posturing, abundant false claims and unreal promises never intended to be kept to fools in the public who, for a moment, believe the liars/pitch men and then forget. It was far better to agree on one good idea instead of presenting the masses with an uninformed choice between two flawed mediocre pitch-folks.

In every election the people vote based on unrealistic images of attractive people packaged by teams of liars. The people never get what they want, and then they are surprised at the state of the world.

On the other hand, the colony’s anti-democratic system was free of corruption, the legal bribery of logrolling legislation or the insidious quid pro quo, and the plague of political parties that bundle money for votes. No retainer ever says “vote for me” since there are no votes for individuals. Indeed, the very idea of pitching a political concept based solely on WHO claims to stand behind the concept - an idea that has played out time and time again in Latin America - is reasonably considered treason in the Colony. Only arguments about the reasonably expected results of a choice are considered. All else is folly.

Jessica imagined she would rent a motel or something, she was okay with the cost. She understood that security types (bodyguards, guards at the Federal bank, embassy troops, etc.) do not shoot or get shot at every day, but they carry weapons and were always at risk to kill or be killed. That gave them a different mindset about mundane parts of life.

She had already talked to some embassies about their troops, but they declined. The feds and armored car people would not even talk to her. She was out of ideas until Abril mentioned “security firm” attached to my name. Of course it was not a security firm, we are high-level security enforcers/trouble shooters for a drug dealing operation, but Abril had been vague and had not mentioned the barracks or the number of troops or the clients. But Jessica jumped at the idea, she pictured professional bodyguards in fine suits, like James Bond after he retired from government work.