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L.A. is a weird place, and the people who occupy it are even weirder. Today, I went to a Chinese restaurant where all the signs were in Spanish. Only in L.A.
A couple of e-mails I got prompted a personal debate. Basically, the question was a "Which came first?" query where people wanted to know if I thought all the assholes in the world moved to Los Angeles, or people moved here with a dream and turned into assholes somewhere along the way. One of them even asked me what was the crappiest Hollywood thing anyone had ever done to me, and another asked if I've ever "come close" to a sale. This story covers both of those.
Well, I've told you about my self-absorbed control freak of a roommate who would gladly let a black market operative into our home while I slept and let him harvest one of my kidneys if it meant getting a two-line speaking role in a Ron Howard movie. The story I'm thinking of today, however, is about someone who let his ego get in the way of what I think was a good thing.
I was working for Big Studio at a new division, and had much contact with the newly formed development department that serviced our division. I was actually encouraged to pitch projects, although I sort of knew that my odds - even this close - were astronomical. This was a new division, and everyone who was there at the start-up had already flooded them with ideas. The last thing they wanted to hear was something new from me.
But...
Lo and behold, one of the studio's bigwigs handed down a decree. "We own this great character, and I like him, and I want you monkeys to find a way to make a movie around him. So let it be written... so let it be filmed." This character just happened to be a favorite of mine (and a wee bit twisted), and as soon as I got wind of this, my brain started churning. That weekend, I wrote up a tidy three page treatment (forget 15 page treatments, people - if you're having trouble getting someone to listen to a 30-second pitch, you're never going to get them to read a book report about your screenplay) and turned it in to the development exec/producer handling the project. He passed it on to the Director of Development. She passed it on to the head of our division, and then she called me and told me how much they all loved it. By the end of the week, the project was dead. No explanation - just dead.
A few months pass, and that same producer gets an offer at another studio. Jumping our sinking ship, he relocates. Thinking that my project got killed because it was too edgy, I see this producer's move as a chance to pitch another edgy project to a studio that might have the balls to make such a film. I call, I meet, I pitch... and I wait.
Nothing.
About six or seven months go by, and the film we are working on is getting ready for release. Mr. Jump-Ship Producer calls his old producer pals in my division to get in on a preview screening. This request ends up on my desk. I call his assistant, I set up the screening, and all is good. Three days later, I get a letter from him with my project materials returned and a lame letter about "full roster" or some such patented blow-off... but "stay in touch". In other words, I have some useful purpose to him, and he wanted to make sure he didn't write me off in case he needed me for something again.
His former assistant was still in our division, and was a friend of mine, and I shared this story with her. She couldn't believe I was surprised, citing Mr. Jump-Ship's blatant Hollywoodisms. I brought up my first project with him, and she said "I can't believe how fast he killed that."
What?
Yes, it turned out that Mr. Jump-Ship was the one who killed my project. He had his own stuff that he wanted to do, and being an egomaniac with one very small producer credit to his name, he certainly didn't want a nobody like me getting a project moving before he did... even though he was ALREADY DESIGNATED AS THE PRODUCER IF THE PROJECT TOOK OFF!
I was so close, I could taste the payoff. It was really happening, but an ego got in the way, and rather than share some glory, this guy apparently had to have all the glory. He lasted less than a year at the new studio (probably because they were screaming for edgy projects and he didn't bring them any) and has not produced anything since.
The system works in mysterious ways.
So, as to the question of which came first, the location or the attitude, I don't have an answer. Surely, the L.A. attitude is here, but I don't think you come here and GET an attitude unless you come here WITH an attitude. If you have an attitude, or you develop one, get over yourself and get on with your life... or you may not have much of a life to get on with. At the very least, a better attitude might translate into a better life.
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