What Just Happened? (27 page)

C
ARL
: Referencing the cards.

B
EN
: Carl, these aren't Hallmark get-well cards. They're not coffee-table decorations. They're private business. What are you doing?

C
ARL
: I thought …

B
EN
: Don't think. Put them in the drawer and lock them up. This is nobody's business but mine.

Ben glances at his office through the indoor window. A man with tools on his belt is stepping off measurements across the floor
.

B
EN
: (
cont'd
) You let somebody in my office without discussing it with me? Carl, get a grip here. We're falling apart. What's going on?

C
ARL
: No, he's from Studio Services …

Ben moves closer
.

B
EN
: Is this moving day? (
to himself
) That's always the way. Isn't it? Because of one bad screening. Are you kidding me?

C
ARL
: Huh?

B
EN
: These people have no shame … ruthless pricks … who's coming in here next? WHO? What production company's moving in here?

C
ARL
: I don't know anything about a production company.

B
EN
: What do you mean no one's moving in here? I'm not moving in here. I'm in here.

C
ARL
: I don't know anything about a production company … No! Him? … It's the new carpeting.
You
ordered the new carpeting.

B
EN
: When was that?

C
ARL
: Back in February.

B
EN
: Since when does it take three months to get new carpeting?

C
ARL
: I know. I've been badgering them. But it was a special order. The white shag … It came all the way from Minnesota.

B
EN
: I wouldn't be caught dead with white shag.

C
ARL
: You ordered it.

B
EN
: (
recovering
) No, I stand corrected. Okay, I'll be in the editing room.

Carl nods. Ben heads for the door
.

OMITTED

INT. EDITING FACILITY

Ben walks down the hallway and enters the outer area of the editing rooms. He approaches one of the rooms, the door is closed with a ‘do not enter sign.' A loud ‘oh cunt' groan followed by the sound of glass smashing erupts from inside
.

EDITING ROOM

Ben quickly enters to see Jeremy, glassy-eyed, wrecked, really wrecked, like a man on life support. Shards of a coffee cup are at his side
.

B
EN
: Jeremy, you may not realize this now but I was protecting you and our movie in that office.

J
EREMY
: I've gone out, man. Way out.

B
EN
: I can see that but maybe it's a good thing. Clears your head …

J
EREMY
: No. No. I've gone
out
. I had eleven months and twenty-two days of no drugs or alcohol and after the meeting with that cow, Lou, your fucking well-meaning, assassin-in-training, gave me a fucking Ativan …

B
EN
: Uh huh … one Ativan doesn't sound so terrible …

J
EREMY
: … which I then followed up by scoring three Dilaudids from a barman, and knock it all back with rum and Cokes.

B
EN
: Okay then. You needed a release. It can happen to anyone.

J
EREMY
: (
tears welling up
) Please, in seven days I was gonna get a cake, a lovely cake, a celebration … a year sober … and your naked fucking treachery has robbed me of that moment.

B
EN
: That's not true.

Jeremy picks up one of the shards of glass and pierces his finger until a few drops of blood flow. He shows it to Ben
.

B
EN
: That's not necessary. Can't we save this high drama for the screen?

Jeremy smears the blood across his forehead
.

J
EREMY
: It's my blood on that film.

B
EN
: I know it is, Jeremy. That's why I'm here. As your producer.

J
EREMY
: My blood. Blood and dreams going all the way back to the Jew ghetto of Vilna. From a little shtetl. How could you possibly understand something like that?

B
EN
: Yes I can.

Ben starting to get concerned
.

B
EN
: Let me get you a Valium? Just for now … It's not that I don't … but we're on deadline. This is for us … these changes.

J
EREMY
: (
thinking
) Could I get a couple of Vicodin instead? … Make it three.

B
EN
: Sure. Easy. Three it is.

Ben leans out the door
.

B
EN
: (
to the assistants
) Call my office and have them send three Vicodin to the cutting room. Right now.

Ben glances over at the Avid. There is a frozen image of Sean Penn and his dead dog on the screen. Ben puts his hand on Jeremy's shoulder
.

B
EN
: Jeremy, we need you to dig deep on this one. You can do it. We can get our victory in Cannes and I can get
these bastards to spend a lot of money and distribute this film properly. Do you understand? You can do it.

J
EREMY
: (
pointing to the Avid
) It's so fuckin' hard for me. That's my work.

B
EN
: Trust me. Once you do it, you make these cuts and trims, you get rid of the damn dead dog, you'll forget the pain. You'll feel cleansed.

J
EREMY
: I will?

B
EN
: Yes.

Jeremy gathers himself
.

J
EREMY
: I don't want you to see anything until I finish.

B
EN
: Sure. So long as I can review it with you before we leave. Just call me when you need me. Give me a hug.

They embrace. Jeremy holds on and won't let go
.

B
EN
: That's it. Okay. Okay. Let's go to work. C'mon. It's okay. I gotta go now. We have a deadline. Let's go to work. We can do this when we have our big victory at Cannes. Be strong. You can do it.

Ben gestures to Verna ‘cut the dog
.'

J
EREMY
: Leave me alone now. Let me do my work. Leave me be.

Ben exits. Jeremy takes another swig from the tequila bottle
.

Cut to:

EXT. FOX STUDIO PARKING LOT

B
EN
: No, no, no, Cal … I'm in my car. I'm driving on the 405 as we speak. I'm five minutes away. Cal relax, relax. I'm going over the hill right now. Don't worry. It'll be fine.

Ben hangs up. He is rushing to his car parked on the other side of the lot when he runs into Scott, the screenwriter
.

S
COTT
: Hey, it's a nice day, huh? What's going on?

B
EN
: I'm late for a meeting with an actor about a beard. You must've sold your flower script.

S
COTT
: How'd you know?

B
EN
: You said it was a nice day and you're on this depraved lot. What else could it be?

S
COTT
: Well let's just say we're in negotiations.

B
EN
: I'm sure it'll be
Batman
for fairies. Who bought it?

S
COTT
: I can't tell you that. It'll jinx it.

B
EN
: Oh, you're start with that again? Just tell me.

S
COTT
: I'm not gonna tell you. I'm superstitious that way.

B
EN
: You might as well tell me. I'm gonna find out anyway.

S
COTT
: I'll tell you tomorrow.

B
EN
: I'm so happy for you. Can't wait to read it. When are you going to finish my rewrite.

S
COTT
: Soon. Very soon.

B
EN
: When is that?

S
COTT
: Soon is soon.

EXT. FOX STUDIO PARKING LOT/BEN'S BMW

Ben trying to look pleased gets to his car and starts to leave. His attention gets diverted when Scott lifts his pant leg and rests his foot on a car bumper. He's wearing the same style of
brightly colored Argyle socks
that Ben found under Kelly's bed
.

Ben, motionless, just stares at Scott until Scott gets in his car
.

Ben puts the sock back in the glove compartment and slams it shut
.

Cut to:

INT. VAST ABANDONED FACTORY RECONVERTED TO A SOUNDSTAGE

SUPER
: 4:00
PM

Inside, several large trucks are parked next to ten large trailers. Except for where people are working the place is quite dark. Sets are being built. Equipment (i.e. lights, cameras, dollies) is being unloaded and assembled
.

Ben drives into the facility through a large side door. Across the way is a makeshift wardrobe room with a large bay window. By the clothing racks, he sees a large bearded actor trying on clothes. The Actor is profusely sweating. That call Ben got was quite accurate. The Actor does look a little bloated and he's sporting a beard that Moses would have envied
.

Ben gets out of his car just as Cal, the director, walks up
.

B
EN
: Cal! How you holding up?

C
AL
: Uhhh, not good. It's just ridiculous for you to say you'd be ten minutes. I find it silly, and actually obnoxious …

B
EN
: I had unexpected delays. I saw Moses through the window. What's the status of the beard?

C
AL
: I don't know.

Ben leads Cal inside the prop truck for privacy
.

B
EN
: Did you tell him he has to shave?

C
AL
: I'm going to bring it up but I haven't done it yet.

B
EN
: We start shooting Friday afternoon. Today is Tuesday.

C
AL
: I'm the director, I know what day it is.

B
EN
: I suppose it took him a long time to grow it, he probably wants to wait till the last minute …

C
AL
: That's what I thought last week, but after seeing him read today, I sensed this is going to be his look. It's an artistic choice.

B
EN
: The extra weight is too? It can't be.

C
AL
: It's a feeling.

B
EN
: Cal, we got the studio to pay him twenty million dollars to be a LEADING MAN. For that kind of money there's an
expectation
.

C
AL
: I assume they
expect
a good performance.

B
EN
: No. No. For that kinda money, Cal, they
expect
millions of menstruating women to want to have intercourse with him. You understand what I'm saying? You want a poster that says ‘See Santa run?'

C
AL
: Okay.

B
EN
: Okay.

C
AL
: Okay.

B
EN
: Okay. Okay. Let's go tell him to shave. He'll shave. Especially if he hears it from you.

B
EN
: That's the hope.

Cut to:

INT. WARDROBE ROOM—MOMENTS LATER

Crash! A wardrobe rack is knocked over spilling most of the costumes onto the floor. Ben and Cal watch as the actor goes on a rampage. He turns to Cal and Ben. My God, it's Bruce Willis
.

A
CTOR
: Motherfuckers! MOTHERFUCKERS!

More clothes are strewn
.

A
CTOR
: You guys are talking about my artistic integrity. INTEGRITY! Mother FUCKERS!!!

B
EN
: Did I say integrity?

The actor walks over to a wardrobe stand, shoves it out of his way. Cal slowly makes his way to the door. Ben tries to hold his ground, make sense of things
.

B
EN
: Audiences want to know it's you, Bruce. They expect it. We're talking about a lot of money here. Twenty million dollars.

A
CTOR
: What the fuck are you talking about? They're not gonna recognize me, Ben? Oh, I see. They're gonna be confused? ‘WHERE DID BRUCE GO? I CAN'T SEE BRUCE? WHAT? WHAT? WHERE'S MY FAVORITE MOVIE STAR? (
looks in a mirror, smiles
) OH, I SEE HIM. HE'S RIGHT THERE! THE GUY WITH THE BEARD!'

B
EN
: You know the business, there's a demographic that has to be served. It's about falling in love with the hero! There's a tradition to this stuff …

A
CTOR
: Oh! I get it. This is about pussy.

B
EN
: More or less …

A
CTOR
: Let me tell you a funny story. I've been growing this beard for six months and I've been knocking off trim right and left, twenty-four-seven. And no complaints.

C
AL
: (
turning to Ben
) Maybe we should listen to him …

A
CTOR
: Shut the fuck up, Cal. Hollywood producer, my ass. I knew this mentality was coming. Never a doubt. Never a doubt. You no talent … straight to video, talentless motherfucker …

Ben, out of the ashes, begins to rise from his chair. For the first time in his grueling day he seems to be taking this current onslaught personally
.

B
EN
: You want to talk about INTEGRITY?

A
CTOR
: Yeah!