There’s No Justice

Some of you may have noticed that “Righteous Kill” is coming out tomorrow (or today, depending on your time zone if you’re reading this the moment I post it). It’s a Pacino/De Niro match-up, the likes of which we have not seen since Michael Mann’s elegant and superb “Heat.” You know what angers me about this movie? I’ll tell you, dear reader: the director is a guy named Joe Avnet, and he had his chance.

It’s true! Not six months ago, this same director put out a whole different movie with Al Pacino as its star. The movie bombed, because the studio released it during a “take out the garbage” period with little to no effective publicity, and they did that because they were smart enough to sit down and watch the thing, and universally concurred it was junk.

Here’s my problem with you, Joe. You had what so few of us ever will: a chance to make a movie with Al Pacino, a star so overwhelming that his name in the credits gets the project greenlit before you tell a studio the name of your movie, and you blew it. You wasted Michael Corleone on a garbage script that everyone hated and the movie failed. So how, in a just universe, do you get to rebound from this crushing disaster with not one, but two legendary screen icons?

I only ask because I’m sweating bullets and taking out thousands of dollars of loans just to have a chance to come within striking distance of the opportunities you have botched, and I’m curious why you keep getting second chances. Are you a uniquely gifted director, Joe? All signs point to “no.” You’ve given us a sub-par Richard Gere thriller and “Fried Green Tomatoes.” Nice work. Next time two Hollywood mammoths want to carry a director on their shoulders to financial security, maybe they could enlist someone who hasn’t already gotten their shot at the blackjack table and busted.

Ahem.

Hey there, everyone. It’s still sunny in California, in case you were wondering. It’s always sunny here, it never lets up, and Corelyn and I have noticed it affects people’s moods. Everyone is just friendlier with you, it’s bizarre. And not in the Southern way (which I’m not disparaging), either, it’s a lot more…toothy than that. You might say Southern Comfort hospitality is a little more genuine, a little less about appearances. Still, it’s a nice feeling to have a bunch of sun-tanned people smiling at you all the time.

And the dress codes for work out here are…something else. I showed up for an interview in a suit and people looked at me like I must have parked my flying saucer around the corner. You take it easy out here, man, that’s just how they roll.

As some of you may know, I’m currently working sales for a post-production company. My boss warned me before I was hired that “having your skin peeled off” is often more pleasant than cold calling total strangers, which is literally 80 percent of my day. I think I see how he was right, but by now I’ve made over a hundred phone calls to very busy people who’ve never heard of me trying to convince them to come have lunch at the Paramount Lot, so I think I’m just over it. I’ve also learned, from my boss’ sage advice, not to talk like a salesman. When I call people up, I don’t pitch an angle, I just say “How’s principal? I think we can help you guys with post. Why don’t you come on over, we’ll show you our DI facilities?” (Let me translate that for you: “principal” is principal photography, as in shooting the thing. “Post” is post-production, where editing, color correcting and visual effects are done. And “DI” is digital intermediate, which is a form of post-production where the raw footage is converted to a digital format for post, then converted again for its release or distribution.) By the way, sometimes I just say, “Are you guys shooting? Do you need some visual effects?” but if I had said that, you wouldn’t have been intimidated by my enormous mastery of lingo.

The point is, confidence is everything. When I tell people my name and the company I work for, I say it casually, almost indifferently, the same way I would tell them I was Orson Welles, and I’ve found that even though they don’t have a clue who they’re talking to, they feel like they should, so they fake it. “Oh okay, sure, sure.” It’s priceless. I’ve only been on the phone for ten seconds, and already I’ve turned the tables on these guys.

Right, right, so I’m married, I guess I should talk about what’s going on there. Cor is keeping busy with this temp agency she’s working for. They haven’t placed her yet, but they have been good enough to call her in for a “quick tutorial” on Excel and released her three hours later, only half-way through. “Exhaustive” is apparently not strong enough a word.

We’re also both enjoying hanging out with Becca and her group of friends, who seem like decent folks. I can’t say enough about Becca Lear, she didn’t so much “arrive” as “swoop in on a majestic steed” when we were just getting settled and felt utterly terrified. She’s made it a point to keep in touch constantly, inviting us to things and touring us around the area, and it’s made all the difference in the world. Funny story: ten minutes before we first got in touch with her, Corelyn had beseeched the Lord quite earnestly for “a hand here,” as we were both feeling overwhelmed. God is a generous God indeed.

The same is true of mom and dad, who also swept in, albeit on a very different steed, and showered us with generosity and optimism. They both had stories of being young and living in the city, just barely scraping by, and it was a huge comfort to have them reassure us that these things just take time. I love my parents, they have a funny way of having faith in you without making you feel pressured to “live up” to their expectations. When they say “you’re gonna do great!” you don’t wonder what happens if you let them down, you just go “Yeah! Yeah I will!” We owe a lot to Brady and Holly as well, who seem sympathetic to the plight of broke newlyweds. Honestly, after the wedding and our couple of trips to visit them, if they’re any more selfless and generous on our behalf, we’re going to have to, like, hog tie them to get them to stop. No one can be allowed to be this wonderful.

Oh, by the way! Brendan, my oldest friend, is also living in the Wild Wild West, and he’s been good enough to arrange to come stay with us weekend after next. We’re pumped, it’s going to be good times. It was nice timing that he and I both headed to Cali when we did.