Get Shorty: A Novel

Karen: “You know Warren Hurst?”

Harry: “Never heard of him.”

Karen, looking at their drinks: “He’s one of the production v.p.’s, a new guy. I don’t think he’ll last.”

Harry, as Karen picked up Chili’s drink, took a big sip and handed him the glass: “Who else?”

Karen: “Elaine Levin . . .”

Harry: “No—what’s she doing at Tower?”

Karen: “Harry, she runs production. Don’t you read?”

Harry: “What, the trades? I’ve missed a few lately.” To Chili: “This’s good. Elaine Levin, a few years ago was selling cosmetics . . .”

Karen, lighting a cigarette: “She was at UA and then Metro nine years.”

Harry: “Okay, but before that she was at an ad agency in New York, right? Elaine comes up with an idea for a cosmetic she calls ‘Bedroom Eyes’— you put it on you increase your chances of getting laid. The head of a major studio says to her, ‘Honey, if you can sell that shit you can sell movies.’ Next thing you know she’s a vice-president of production.”

Karen: “Elaine started in marketing.”

Harry: “And how long was she there? That’s what I’m talking about, before they moved her into production, this broad that sold eye makeup?”

Karen: “Harry, everybody used to do something else. What about when you were Harry Simmons making slide films, How to Load a Truck?” To Chili: “Did you know Zimm wasn’t his real name?”

Harry: “The only thing I wasn’t sure of, should Zimm have one m or two? Hey, but I was always a

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filmmaker, behind the camera. These people that run the studios, they’re lawyers, former agents. They’re strictly money guys.”

Karen: “What are you, Harry?”

Harry: “They wouldn’t even see movies, I’m convinced, they didn’t have a screening room on the lot. That’s why with few exceptions I’ve remained independent. You know that song Old Blue Eyes does, ‘I did it my way’? . . .”

Karen: “But now you’re going to a studio.”

Harry: “I have no choice. But you know which one? Tower, I just decided. Play the power game with Bedroom Eyes, see if she’s any good. Get in there and compete with all the ass kissers and bottom feeders, all the no-talent schmucks that constellate around the studio execs who don’t know what they’re doing either. All trying to figure out what the public wants to see. How about teenagers from outer space?”

Karen: “It’s been done.”

Harry: “Well, I got a property I know is gonna go into release. We open on a thousand screens we’ll do over ten mil the first weekend. You oughta read it, see what I’m talking about. Why Michael would be the perfect Lovejoy. Karen? One phone call, I’m in business.”

Chili watched her stub the cigarette out in the ashtray, maybe giving herself time to think. Harry said, “I’m gonna be optimistic, okay?” Karen didn’t answer and Harry, after a moment, brought it back to where they had started.

“You haven’t told us what happened at the meeting.”

“I thought you wanted to guess.”

“Okay. They liked what you did and’ll let you know.”

“I didn’t read. I turned down the part.”

“I thought you wanted to do it.”

“I changed my mind,” Karen said, and walked out.

“You know what happened,” Harry said to Chili. “They told her don’t call us, we’ll call you, and she won’t admit it.” Harry paused to sip his drink. “I’m serious about going to Tower.” He paused again. “I’ll wait’ll Karen’s in a better mood and lay the script on her.”

“I thought,” Chili said, “I was gonna read it.”

“What’d you bring, one copy?”

Chili thought about it and said, “I’m going back to the motel, get cleaned up and check out, find someplace over here to stay. Lemme have the key to your office, I could stop on the way back, pick up a script for myself. How would that be?”

Karen, still in the neat black suit, was at the kitchen table pouring a Coke. Chili watched her from the doorway—where she had stood last night in the Lakers T-shirt.

“Can I ask you a question?” She looked up at him and he said, “Why’d you change your mind?”

“About the part? I can’t say I was dying to do it.”

Karen looked down to pour some more Coke in the glass, careful that it didn’t foam over. Chili got ready to say well, maybe he’d be seeing her sometime, when she looked up at him again.

“I probably would’ve taken it though. But during the meeting I got into what we were talking about this morning, my feeling guilty? You know . . .”

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Chili said, “Why you let the daughter walk all over you.”

“Yeah, I questioned that, and the answer I got, it’s what the audience expects, it’s what they want to see. I said, but if I’m not stupid, if I realize in the end I’m being used, why don’t I realize it right away? Warren goes, ‘But if you did, Karen, we wouldn’t have a movie, would we?’ In this tone. You know, like I’m an idiot. It really pissed me off. I said well, if that’s the way you want to do it, I’ll see you.”

“They try to talk you into it?”

“Elaine did, in a way. I got the feeling the studio forced the script on her and she has to go with it. She said, well, the story isn’t exactly a great idea—she knows—but it’s involving, reflective, has resonance, a certain texture—those are all story department words. I said, ‘Yeah, and lines no one would say except in a movie.’ Warren goes, ‘But that’s what it is, Karen, a movie.’ Elaine stared at him without saying a word, like she was thinking, Where did I get this guy? You have to understand, there are movie lines and there are movie lines that work. Bette Davis comes out of a cabin, walks up to a guy on the porch, gives him a flirty look and says, ‘I’d kiss you but I just washed my hair.’ I love it, because it tells you who she is and you have to like her. But some of the stupid lines I’ve had to deliver . . .”

Chili said, “You want to get back into it, don’t you?”

“I know I’m better than what I used to do. In Harry’s movies I was always the bimbo. I walked around in a tank top and those fuck-me pumps with stiletto heels till it was time to scream. Harry kills me, he says don’t ever take this business seriously, and he’s the most serious guy I know. He puts studio people down—the main reason, because he’d love to run a major studio.” Karen nodded saying, “If he ever did, he might not be bad. The cheapskate, I know he’d save them money.” She started to smile, just a little, saying, “Another one of my favorite Bette Davis lines: ‘He tried to make love to me and I shot him.’ ”

Chili smiled with her. He said, “I was thinking, you know what you could do? Make a deal with Harry. You’ll call Michael if he’ll give you a part in the movie, a good one.”

Karen said, “You’re kidding,” but kept staring at him until finally she said, “In the first place Michael will never do the picture—”

“Harry told me he loves it, he flipped.”

“Michael is known for his flipping. He flips over a script, and then when the time comes to make a deal, he flips out. But what I started to say, Michael would never make the picture with Harry, he doesn’t have the track record. It would not only have to be a big-name producer, Michael would also demand script, director and cast approval, and he’d get it.”

Chili watched her finish pouring the Coke.

“You haven’t answered my question.”