Authors: Zack Love
“I’m sorry for calling you like that rather than ringing your doorbell,” she started. “I just prefer to avoid being seen in public whenever possible because of the paparazzi.”
Evan was speechless and could only nod in approval of her explanation. And then he suddenly started fumbling in a panic: “I’m sorry about the shaved head…I don’t usually look like this…I just lost a bet with a friend, and – ”
“Oh it’s cute…I kind of like it,” Delilah said reassuringly. “We’re going to a very comfy restaurant,” she continued, as her limousine drove off. “I hope you like Greek food,” she added. “This place is delicious.”
“Sounds Greek to me. I mean, sounds great to me,” he said nervously.
Delilah laughed a little at Evan’s awkward deadpan. Evan actually wasn’t sure if he had intended the pun but was glad that Delilah found it funny.
Over a sumptuous, candlelit dinner, Delilah began gushing about Evan’s work.
“It was such a wonderfully memorable novel…I’m actually reading it for the second time now. I really like the lead female character and would love to play her in a film based on your book.”
“Really?” Evan asked, nearly choking on his food.
“Are you artistically comfortable with the idea of making it into a film?”
“It would be a dream come true,” he said, barely containing his ecstatic astonishment.
“It’s really exciting to think about, isn’t it?” she beamed. Her intensely green eyes twinkled with warmth and promise. “By the way I absolutely love the title!”
“Sex in the title?”
“Yes! It’s perfect. Cute. Sexy. Mysterious. Even profound for what is says about our society. I love it!”
Evan was in heaven. He had to keep reminding himself that this was all happening to him by looking around the restaurant. Every now and then some nearby couple would sneak a peak in the direction of his table, at which point he would imagine them wondering why Delilah Nakova was possibly having dinner with that completely unknown bald guy.
“Well if you can find that kind of inspiration for your screenplay then we may be able to make some magic together,” she said, unaware that she had just given Evan another taste of Elysian bliss. “Do you have any experience with screenwriting?”
“Actually, I do,” Evan replied, trying to collect himself. “I’ve written several scripts.”
“That’s wonderful…Have any been made into movies?” she said, inadvertently asking that follow up question he so detested.
“Um…No…Not yet,” he said uneasily. Then he hastily added, “But I’d feel very comfortable writing the adaptation of this novel.”
“Wonderful,” Delilah replied. Evan was relieved that she still seemed to have total confidence in his abilities. “Perhaps we could talk a little about what the vision would be for the screenplay,” she said. “If you don’t mind my input, that is.”
“Oh no…Not at all…It’s…It’s quite an honor…And the vision for a movie script is everything.”
“OK, well please don’t take this the wrong way, Evan, because I truly loved your novel…What I’m about to say is just something to keep in mind when you’re writing the screenplay version.”
“What is it?” said Evan, cringing a little at the looming criticism.
“Well, the concept of your novel has great commercial potential. And there’s a lot of witty and clever dialogue in there, and some hysterical scenes that I’d really like you to keep if you can. But there are far too many subplots going on for a movie.”
“What do you mean?” Evan asked.
“I just think it could be hard for the audience to follow so many different stories and characters that jump around in time so much.”
Evan watched the waiter clearing their dishes and replacing them with the next course while trying to sneak occasional glances at Delilah.
“Audiences generally like one or two lead characters with a fairly straightforward plotline in a single genre,” Delilah said. Accustomed to unsolicited attention, she remained focused on Evan and oblivious to the waiter’s occasional looks. “If it’s a comedy, then it should stay a comedy and not venture into drama territory, if you know what I mean. There are some exceptions, but they’re very tough to pull off.”
“I completely agree,” Evan said cheerfully, even though he was clueless about how he would respect Hollywood parameters when it came to adapting his own novel.
“And you’ve got some great observations on human psychology and society, but these are really far too profound for Hollywood, and audiences will either get bored or confused by them.”
“Maybe that’s why none of my screenplays have gotten anywhere,” he replied, feeling a twinge of self-doubt.
“Evan, you’re a very talented writer with a wonderful imagination, but you just need to be discovered,” Delilah said gently. “Which is why I’m so excited to be here talking to you like this. Because I know that someday, you’re going to be recognized as a top writer. And if I contributed in some way to helping you get discovered, it would be wonderful…I know how hard it can be for new artists.”
These words sent Evan back into the stratosphere.
“Another thing to keep in mind for the adaptation is that your sense of humor is a little inconsistent. Sometimes it’s very low humor, with jokes that involve scatological slapstick, and other times it’s very subtle and ironic, or witty.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Well it’s definitely a compliment for your novel. I think that gives it a much broader appeal. But in film, it might not work. And you may have to dumb down the language a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well in your novel the language is also inconsistent. Sometimes it’s very high brow with complex thoughts and sophisticated vocabulary, and other times there’s a lot of simple dialogue.”
“But that mirrors life, I think,” Evan said, trying delicately to defend his creative decisions. “At times things are very complex and profound. And at other times, they’re very simple. Whether you’re talking about human interactions, the way people communicate, or how they think, there are always going to be moments of incredible simplicity – even stupidity – and other moments of unparalleled insight and eloquence. Like this sentence I just said now. That’s probably the most articulate and profound thing I’ve said all night. The rest was mostly blather.”
Delilah chuckled at his observation. “Evan, I think you’re absolutely right about the varied complexity mirroring life. And please don’t take any of this as a critique of your novel, which I really do love. It’s also not the way I prefer to see films made. I’m personally a fan of more complex cinema. Independent art films and such. And I would like to start doing more of that, which is one of the reasons I’d like us to work together, Evan.” Each time she said his name she elevated him to a higher region of cloud nine. “And I’d really like to see an all star cast attached to your script.”
“That would be amazing.”
“But that also requires a script that follows the Hollywood rules.”
“Why is that?”
“Because an all star cast means a bigger budget. Twenty to fifty million at least. And that’s with me doing the film without any upfront compensation. So we’d need a major executive producer to back the project.”
“I see.”
“And having worked with enough producers, I can tell you that they would basically give us the same script notes that I just gave to you.”
“OK.”
Delilah smiled encouragingly at Evan, as if to soften the blow of everything she had just told him.
Evan smiled back nervously.
“I think I can get you a script that reflects the suggestions you’ve made,” Evan said, without having a clue how he would actually manage to do this.
“Really?” Delilah’s face suddenly lit up in delight. She put her naturally bronze hand across the table onto his and repeated her favorite word. “That’s wonderful, Evan!” He felt her soft hand touch his. As he absorbed her warm green eyes, his pulse quickened dreamily.
“I can’t wait to read it,” she said, her hand still on his. “How soon do you think you could have a first draft ready?”
“Uhm…How about in a week?”
“Wow, that’s really fast…But it would be perfect, if you can do it! I’m taking a lighter course load at Brown next year, so that I can work on more projects…I honestly don’t want to rush you with this script, because it really deserves to be done right…But there’s a small window open in my production schedule this winter, so if we could get a final script ready in the next few weeks, we could maybe get financing in place by early summer, with a cast ready to go for production this winter.”
“A few weeks sounds very doable,” Evan said, trying to focus on the immortal being commanding his next moves rather than on the feasibility of her commandments.
“Evan, I really don’t want you to feel as if I’m just going to disappear after dumping some impossible assignment on you.”
“That’s unbelievably sweet of you,” Evan replied, enchanted by her kindness.
“But I’m being totally serious. In fact, you’re welcome to stay in my loft and just work on the script while I’m in town…It’s in this quaint little spot in SoHo. A great workspace if you need a place to concentrate. And if you run into any problems or you want to talk through any scenes, I’ll be right there to try and help.”
Evan couldn’t believe his ears. He might as well have been hallucinating.
“I’ll be in town for a week, and then I have some meetings in LA for four days, but I’ll be back after that for a good month, except for a few short trips to Providence for college stuff.”
Evan kept staring at her, as if in a trance.
Delilah was amused by the stupefied expression on Evan’s face.
“Are you OK, Evan?”
He snapped out of his daze. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry about that…When you mentioned Providence I just started thinking about my college days.”
“Did you go to Brown?” Delilah asked excitedly.
“Yes, I did. Class of ’93.”
“How funny! What a small world!” she exclaimed.
They spent the next forty minutes discussing courses and professors at Brown College, the various bars and hangouts in Providence, and how their respective college years had been similar yet different.
Over dessert, Evan brought out his ace in the hole: “You probably didn’t guess this, but I’m also part Czech.”
And with that Delilah’s face lit up again. “Really?” she said in Czech. “Say something to me!”
“My Czech is a bit rusty,” he began in Czech. “I studied it for just two years, but I love the language and wish that I had more opportunities to practice it…” In the two years since he first ran into Delilah at Float, Evan had been regularly brushing up on his Czech language skills with a variety of grammar books and language tapes. “I spent the summer after Brown in Prague and really want to go back,” he continued.
“That’s so wonderful!” she replied in Czech. “The Czech-Brown-College film-making team must celebrate!” she said, full of verve and joy. Evan could not have been more elated by how well his two years of preparation were paying off. “Do you need to be anywhere tonight?” she asked.
“No,” he replied, once again amazed at how unpresumptuous the starlet was about her importance to anyone else.
“Would you like to join me for some cocktails at my place? I’d love to hear more about your Czech roots and your time in Prague…Maybe you could even read me some pages from your novel, too.”
Barely able to speak, and stiffening his entire body as much as possible to avoid exploding ecstatically all over the restaurant, Evan answered with a simple, “Sure.”
During the next week, Evan practically moved in to Delilah’s enormous, stylish loft, except for a few hours, when he went back to his place to hand his Afghan Hound over to his neighbor and pick up his toiletries and some clothes. He worked on her computer incessantly, taking breaks only to join her for a meal occasionally. He slept in a guest room, even though Delilah had invited him to cuddle after their third night together. From their first meeting at the Greek restaurant, it was clear that Delilah liked Evan. During the days and nights that followed, when they were at her place, she often let her arms or hands come to rest on his shoulder, arm, or leg, as he read his work aloud to her or they talked about one thing or another. Such unexpected contact made Evan’s heart jump each time, and left him tongue-tied. Still insecure about his bald hairdo, Evan produced a recent picture of himself with hair. “You’re very handsome even without hair,” she told him.
But despite their comfortable and increasingly intimate rapport, Evan could bring himself to do no more than lightly kiss Delilah on the lips or her hold her hand. He suffered from what psychologists might term “idol impotence”: the inability to become sexual with that which one deifies, for fear of disappointing or defiling it. His unqualified apotheosis of Delilah Nakova, which only intensified as he spent more time in her presence, also ensured that he could never truly be himself around her. He was always, in one way or another, in awe of her and unsure of himself.
She, on the other hand, couldn’t figure out what she was doing wrong. At the age of twenty, with a fairly conservative upbringing followed by a protected celebrity existence, she had had only two boyfriends in her entire life. But neither of them, nor any of her thousands of suitors, had ever showed such difficulty displaying physical affection for her. This unintended refusal by Evan only made Delilah desire him more. Suddenly, she was around someone who didn’t seem to respond to her as a sex symbol and who was apparently – and actually – unattainable. No matter how obvious she made her interest in him, he continued to behave in a sexually indifferent and somewhat distant manner. Evan had unwittingly but rather effectively exercised “the power to reject.”
The difficulties produced by idol impotence naturally complicated Evan’s progress on the screenplay he needed to write for her, and this made it even more difficult for him to concentrate. He knew that their relationship was severely imbalanced, but he had no idea how to correct the problem and was terrified of openly admitting that he felt so inadequate in her presence, lest she start to believe him. He thought his mortal inferiority was already painfully obvious every time she introduced him to her friends, most of whom were Hollywood VIPs and celebrities.