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90% Finished! That’s what Kimberly the WB exec said.
It’s now the beginning of October. Kevin calls. They finally met with Kimberly and she flipped for the script. She was “wowed by how I both altered the script and plot points and captured Pee-Wee’s character” (That’s right, I did that). BUT it’s only 90% finished. A “few small scenes here and there.” A “little editing.” They want it down to 90 pages (I forget how many pages it was 110? 115?). They want a “subplot” with the elves, Trinket and Tweedle (um, okay). They want to introduce the villain O’Kiley earlier (“So we can hiss." Sure). And add the PI, Nick (Add Nick???).
Yeah, they decided Nick should reappear in the Cleveland section of the script (where Pee-Wee has to leave the North Pole to follow a clue) and act as Pee-Wee’s guardian angel.
In keeping with the standard mood swings of these Hollywood things, I’m told the producers are going to mull it over and there will be a conference call later in the week. Without me. At that point they will also consider if I’m up to the job. Crap. I’m going to get kicked off my own story!
It’s around now that it occurs to me that there are five people sitting around trying to write a Pee-Wee Herman movie and none of them are Pee-Wee Herman.
Anyway, that night, I’m supposed to hear the problems (and solutions) of the script from Joel and Kimberly. I note that my sinuses were bothering me. I didn’t have a hard copy of the latest script handy. I was concerned over the idea of defending myself. Do I just change what they want me to change? Is it “selling out” or “only a movie”? I knew I had to be careful of my pride, as well as be proud I made it this far. Do I cling to this as my only shot or relax and assume there will be others? Oh, the fuzzy, dark future…
Other things I noted this day: Style without Substance appeared on the Joe Franklin TV Show the previous Friday night and gave me a shout-out. The theater group I was running with, PTSP, was starting to come undone as the key members were getting involved in other projects.
But that phone call, that stupid conference call…