* * *
The next day Kevin calls…to tell me he won’t be calling. Joel’s secretary screwed up and scheduled a meeting with someone else at the same time the call was to be made. Now Kevin is saying he and Kimberly might call at 7pm and run through our list of things...
I was still dealing with comedy sketch stuff and seeing friends' shows, awaiting word from Hollywood. The next day wasn’t pleasant.
Then I get the conference call regarding the script that really matters. Kimberly the executive, Joel the producer, Kevin the connection and me; “Your script is good, you’re a good writer, we all love it, et cetera, et cetera…but edit it down to 90 pages, add scenes in mall, make it an old office building, O’Kiley earlier, Tweedle & Trinket subplot, Pee Wee gives Tweedle advice, blah, blah, blah.” No surprises really, but it was a lot to get handed. I note here I may have gotten snide with these good people. But, it was just too many hits to the ego.
Despite reminding myself NOT to get defensive and defend my choices, I did but got beaten down for it. I was really hurting, all annoyed that “they won’t see--or can’t see or aren’t allowed to see--the kind of traditional comedy character script I do. I was frustrated that they wouldn’t acknowledge that I was mirroring Pee-Wee’s earlier films.
I attempted to give myself a pep-talk (“Beats a poke in the eye! Go team! Rah-rah!"), but it was not completely sincere.
“P.S.,” I add at the end, “I’m allowed to write cutesy, funny scene descriptions.” This little note, this tossed off thought about keeping up the comedy energy of a dry screenplay, foreshadows my doom…