The Ayatollah's Money
Chapter 53 – The Idea and the Actress
After the Iranian boys had left, Gwen took Laleh to one of the offices at the rear of the stage. Gale the Mouth was mouthing off about Pete Townshend playing the entire Stravinsky lost ballet score by himself on synthesizer, right here where they were sitting, while Jinny kept pointing out the holes in the ceiling where Gwen had fired her Glock one morning at rehearsal to emphasize to everyone that Pmirhs Stirg the ex-Nazi hunter had threatened their well-being. Soderberg listened to Gale while Clooney stared at the ceiling and listened to Jinny. George liked anything to do with Gwen.
Gwen said to Laleh, “You need to tell them your idea now.”
“It wasn’t my idea, it was Shim’s idea.”
“I know that, but you’re the one who has to propose it to them.”
“Why? Why not Shim?”
“Simple, because they’re guys and you’re you.”
“You mean the sex thing?” Gwen didn’t even nod; just sat there looking at her.”
“Ok. You think they’re going to go for it?”
Gwen nodded, so they went out to the stage and everyone stopped talking. That would have happened if just one of these women were standing there looking at them, and now there were two. Nazi storm troopers marching by the thousands in front of a frowning, stern, and Seig Heiling Adolf Hitler would have stopped and stared if Gwen and Laleh had appeared on the review stand. Gwen sat down and Laleh had the floor. She said, “A couple of days ago, after we found out you guys were coming, Shim came up with an idea for this thing we’re going to do. We talked it over last night and again this morning, and we like it. Shim, I’m going to describe it to Steven and George, ok?” Shim smiled cause his girl was talking. “We know Steven retired from making films; at least for a while. We also know he thinks Ingmar Bergman is the greatest film maker ever, and we know Bergman was involved in theater his whole life, including the last ten years after he retired from film making. So we know Steven respects the art of theater production.” Soderberg stared at Laleh, not taking his eyes from her face. George was next to him and did the waving of the hand in front of Steven’s face thing, smiling at the entrancement. She went on, “We talked about that, and then Shim told us about a film he'd seen a long time ago that made a big impression on him. It was a Woody Allen film called The Purple Rose of Cairo. Anyone seen it?”
Jinny certainly hadn’t. When it came out in 1985 he was cleaning toilets in The Hermitage. Gwen looked at Roger who said, “I remember it. That was when he was with Mia Farrow, before the scandal.” Looking at Gwen he said, “Just before we got married.”
Laleh went on, “Shim told us the plot, with Mia married to a bore and a bruiser, and her loving movies and going to the theater all the time to get away from him, and one time going to see a 1930s style romance thing set in Egypt, sort of an old style Indiana Joneser, with the leading man an adventurer archeologist. Woody sets it up with Mia sitting in the theater watching the movie, and the actor in the film doing this thing at the pyramids, and then Woody does this brilliant thing that Shim never had seen before, maybe it was completely original with Allen and no one ever had done it, we don’t know; some film historian should know. Anyway, Mia has been transported psychologically to Egypt and has fallen in love with the leading man, when all of a sudden the actor on the screen turns towards the camera, which simulated the viewpoint of the people in the theater, including Mia, and he notices Mia sitting out in the seats. He looks towards the camera that is filming him, which makes it seem he’s looking out of the screen. And he IS looking out of the screen, and he is looking at Mia, and no one maybe had ever done this before Woody did it.”
Steven was smiling big and nodding, clearing knowing what Laleh was describing. He said, “I’ve seen every film Woody’s ever made, including The Purple Rose of Cairo, and I love him and I love that film. I know exactly what she’s talking about.” He turned to Monique, who just had taken Jinny’s hand off her thigh for the second time, and then to George.
Monique shook her head no, not knowing the movie, but George nodded yes, and said, “I saw it. That was great. Very cool. I remember it exactly. It was Jeff Daniel that played the archeologist and looked out of the screen at Mia, eating popcorn in the seats.”
Laleh motioned to Shim to continue. “I love that movie and I’ve never forgotten it from twenty something years ago. So we were talking about Bergman and film and theater, and then that memory popped into my head, and I thought, why not do what Woody did, only more. Take his idea one step further. Do a production that is half film and half play. It would be different than just doing a play or a performance with a big screen behind the stage showing video while people acted on the stage. In our production the actors would be shown on the screen, in film, and then at a certain point they would come out of the screen onto the stage, and the action would continue live. And then they would go back into the screen and it would be film again.” Soderberg and Clooney listened intently. So did Gale, and even Jinny stopped staring at Monique’s thigh for a minute and looked at Shim. “The story and the action would bounce back and forth between the screen and the stage. Same actors, same story, same costumes, just a different presence, and a different presentation to the audience. The director would have to choreograph all the transitions, and the actors would have to perform the transitions. They would be filmed doing scenes, and then they would act other scenes live, and back and forth, back and forth. The whole thing done here in The Hall.” Shim sat down, exhausted from his recitation, not used to being the center of attention, but revitalized when Laleh leaned over and kissed his cheek.
Gale, used to being the center of attention, exploded with, “Yes. Yes. Far out, what an idea, Shimmey boy.” She was up and bouncing around the stage, mimicking the actors stepping out of the screen onto the stage and acting, then stepping back into the screen and acting in that film format.
Roger applauded and said, “Great, Shim. Great idea.” Gwen didn’t say anything, just smiled at him and then at Laleh.
Monique turned her chair a quarter turn towards Jinny and put her legs up on his lap, both long legs pouring out of the golden leather dress, the very expensive leather dress, and said, “Well Georgie boy, waddya think? Like it?” Jinny was paralyzed: everything but his autonomic nervous system had ceased functioning, his arms hung loose at his sides, not daring to touch the goods, head and eyes not moving to look at George the way everybody else did, waiting for his reply.
George leaned his head against the high back chair and stared at the bullet holes high in the plaster of the ceiling overhead. His sub-conscious mind wondered what kind of woman would pull out a handgun on the stage of a theater and fire two shots into the ceiling to emphasize a point to her theater crew, while his conscious mind thought about Shim’s wild idea. A movie and a play! He pulled his two minds together and looked at Soderberg. “What do you think? I like it. I like this place.”
Soderberg stood up and walked around the circle of chairs, head down, arms behind his back. Then he looked at Gale and said, “Would you do that again? What you did before, pretending to jump out of the screen onto the stage, and then back into the screen. Just like you did before.” Bashful Gale was up in a flash, legging it, showing a lot of thigh, thinking she still might have a shot at the role opposite Big George. She hopped out of the pretend screen and then back into it. In, out. In, out. Soderberg watched her while everyone else watched him. Then he put his hands behind his back and walked around the chairs again, looking down at the pine boards of the stage. Monique knew what his answer would be before he did, and gave everyone else the thumbs up, accentuated with a nod and a smile. He came around and sat down in his chair and said, “I’m in. Great idea. I can do it. When do we start?” looking at Gwen, to whom unconsciously he had deferred.
She said, “Tomorrow morning, 10am.” Everyone nodded except Jinny who still couldn’t function pro
perly with the exception of his breathing, which was rapid but still performing its duty. Then Gwen said, “Ok, one problem down, one to go. We have ten minutes to decide on the actress,” and she turned to George.
George had to compartmentalize, but he was good at it. One by one he closed the compartment holding the question of a woman who fired bullets into theater ceilings, then the compartment holding his vision of Laleh’s dark silky hair, and then the compartment containing Shim’s idea for the production, and he opened the compartment which in a few minutes would hold his decision about a leading actress. Standing up he now commanded the group, and said, “You guys mentioned Zellweger. I loved doing the movie with her, double so because I acted and directed. She’s a trip, and in that movie I think did her best work. If she could do that again, and then in a few more films, she could rise to the top of the heap; she’s that talented. I’m willing to give it a try, if Steven is.”
Both Gwen and Roger looked at Gale to see how she took this, and were happy to find her with a hint of smile on her face. She had recognized she would be out of her league in something like this. Knowing her as they did they also detected a different and separate hint of mischief there, and Roger whispered to Gwen that Jinny would have to watch her.
Steven looked at the floor, thinking, a posture the team would see again and again over the next two months. He raised his head and said, “She was so good with you in that scene in the hotel lobby where you met in the story. Good humorous dialogue and the two of you were on fire. Like William Powell and Myrna Loy. That chemistry doesn’t happen very often, no matter how good the two actors are. It will be a challenge to bring that out in the two of you again. That works for me. Let’s try to get her.”
George looked over at Monique who still had her legs up on Jinny’s lap, a sure sign they had made friends, and Jinny was regaining motor coordination in his arms and neck. She reached in her purse, took out her phone and thumbed through the contacts list. She hit the call button and then the speaker button, and George went over and held it up so everyone could hear. There were some clicks and buzzes and then a thin voice came through the speaker, “Weger. What’s ooo want?”
“Hey Weger, George here. How the hell are you? Where the hell are you? You sound thin and weak.”
“GEORGE. Lover boy. Wow, nice, long time no screw. I’m lousy, how you?”
“I’m good. Sitting here with Sody and a few other folks, talking movies. How come you sound so weird? You under water or something?”
“No, not under water, just far away. Himalayas, foothills of the Himalayas.”
“They got cell coverage out there?”
“I got a satellite phone. Sometimes it works. Hey Sody, how you?”
Steven said, “I’m ok, Wegs. Learning to cook Italian.”
“Just add a lot of olive oil and garlic to whatever it is, and it’ll be great. Where are you guys? LA, NYC?”
George said, “We’re in Charleston. South Carolina. Place called The Hall.”
“You had any shrimp and grits yet? I love that stuff.”
“Not yet, we just got here yesterday. What the hell is shrimp and grits?”
“It’s the local yokel dish. Ground up white corn, butter, and shrimp, all mushed together. All southern, all the way.”
George looked at Roger with a pained expression on his face, incredulous. Roger said, “It’s better than it sounds. Jinny makes it pretty good.”
“Wegs, what are you doing in the Himalayas? You’re a city girl.”
“Yeah, I am, and the city’s what got me in trouble. I’m out here searching for the true me.”
Soderberg yelled at the phone, “What you searchin for?”
“The reason I’ve made so many dumb movies. That’s my problem. Tired of it. Thought maybe one of these local guys could tell me. All I got from the city guys was a lot of crap, and I bought it. Ergo, the dumb movies I’ve done.”
“Hey, Wegs, it’s Monique. I gotta ask, one reason for the dumb movies was they paid you like $10 mill each right? That’s not so dumb.”
“Hi Monique. George behaving himself?”
“Yeah, he is, which is too bad. Very boring,” and she smiled at her bosscompanion.
“The money was the reason I did the dumb stuff, and it’s good in its way, but it ain’t everything. I want something else.”
George said, “We got something else for you, very cool. Sody and I are doing a project here, and we want you in. It’s not exactly a film; it’s something sort of filmy thing but not exactly. Part play.”
There was silence on the other end. George looked at the phone, then around the circle of chairs. “You there, Wegs? You fall off your yak?”
“I’m here. George, would you repeat what you just said?”
“I said Sody and I are doing a project and we want you to be in it. With me.”
“Like before, George? Opposite? Main roles?”
“Yeah, like before, you’re the lead. Only this time it’ll be better because Sody is directing rather than me.”
More silence. Monique said to Jinny, “She’s in. She’s like you were a few minutes ago, having trouble breathing. She’ll get it started again.”
Zellweger said, “Steven, is he bullshitting me? Is this a real deal? I thought you retired from making movies.”
“I’m back. For this. He talked me into it. It’s real. C’mon Wegs, we want you. It’ll be fun. A strange idea, but like he said, cool. Get off your yak and get your ass to Charleston.”
Roger was right when he thought he saw a mischievous gleam in Gale’s eyes a few minutes ago. Gale stood up and moved close to the phone. “Renee, this is Gale.”
“Hi Gale.”
“Listen, we don’t want to mess up your mission to find your true self out there. That’s a very important and noble quest. This is just a little show here in Charleston, not a big deal,” and she stuck her tongue out at Clooney.
Gwen looked at Jinny, telling him telepathically to stop dinking around with Monique and do his job of controlling Gale, who was climbing out on a limb. Jinny got the message and, using Herculean self-discipline, took hold of Monique’s legs, swiveling them off his lap and onto the floor. He got his muscles to respond to brain commands, stood up, and waddled over to Gale. She saw him coming and grabbed the phone, saying, “Listen Wegy hon, if you really want to come back, but don’t want to fall back into bad habits, we can forgo your fee for the job here. Pay you union scale, even though we don’t allow any fucking unions here in Carolina. Keep you corruption free, living your new life in a state of humble charity.” Jinny caught up with her, took the phone and handed it back to George, then picked Gale up under an arm and went back to his chair where he sat her on his lap the way a ventriloquist does his dummy.
There was silence on the phone again, then Zellweger said, “Gale, honey, there’s pure and then there’s pure. I want to do things differently, but a girl’s still gotta eat. I take your point, though. Sody, what’s union scale? I think I can do that. For you I know I can do that.”
George said, “She’s just joking, Wegs. We’ll pay you. Does that mean you’re in?”
“I’m in. Let me turn this yak in at the rental corral, and I’ll tell my pilot to fuel the Lear. He should be able to find Charleston. I got no idea how long a flight that’ll be, but see you soon.”
Soderberg and Clooney said together, “See ya, Wegs.”
George thumbed the end button and tossed the phone to Monique, who caught it one handed and dropped it in her purse. He said, “That went well.”
Gwen stood up and said, “That went great. Nice going, guys. Roger, open the wine. McCrady’s will be here any minute. We meet tomorrow morning at ten, and talk writing.”