Just another Hollywood Story
Chapter 11
No reviews not comments to make here. It's just a chapter to move the story along. That said if anyone has any thoughts or opinions on what the MC should do next, feel free to tell me.
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"Are there any hard feelings between you two?" Oprah asks.
"Between me and Caesar? No, there are no hard feelings," Salma answers.
"Really, none whatsoever?" Oprah asks.
"Well, I know Oprah people want the juicy gossip. God knows the tabloids have had a field day with our relationship, especially after pictures of him and Tiffani at dinner together came out. But the fact of the matter is there is no gossip there." Salma says.
"Weren't you two still dating when those pictures were taken?" Oprah asks, a bit confused at her answer.
"Yes, we were, but listen, Oprah, let me just say this: when I was with Caesar, we were together. He was 100 percent loyal to me and to anyone who dates, for that matter. That image we all saw was taken about a month after Scream came out without any understanding of what was really going on. Saying that he was cheating on me, he was having an affair, and poor me, blah blah blah. It was all lies made up by the media to sell papers." Salma asserts, emphasizing the strength of their relationship.
"Well, to be fair, Salma, neither you nor Caesar ever denied any of it." Oprah points out.
Rolling her eyes, Salma says, "Of he didn't deny it, Oprah. Caesar honestly doesn't care what you, me, or anyone else think of him. So he won't even try to defend himself on something like this. I mean, that is just how he is. As for me, I knew about the date a week in advance."
"You know about the date?" Oprah asks, a bit shocked.
"Of course, I was invited to go on this so-called date with him?" Salma answer.
"You were invited to go?" Oprah says in confusion.
"Yes, and it was because Caesar, at the time, was meeting Tiffani to discuss her upcoming appearance in his next movie. I was invited because it was still up in the air whether I would be in it, but I had other obligations that night, so I could not go." Salam says.
What Salam didn't say was that she and Caesar were not really dating anymore at that point in time. Oh, sure, they were still fucking, but that was about it.
"I see, so that was all there was to that, but didn't they start dating later that year?" Oprah asks, not fully believing her.
"That is right, but we were no longer dating at the time. We just didn't announce that we had broken up." Salam says.
But again, she doesn't mention that even now, they still see each other on occasion—not when he was dating someone, of course, but whenever they were both single and had time to spend with each other. That would be one hell of a scandal, she thought to herself.
-1996-
Hearing a paper open while I was sitting outside a café drinking coffee, I heard the voice of my good friend David say, "Scream, written by the young and talented Caesar Espinar and directed by Wes Craven, is a spectacular take on the classic horror genre. Seemingly blending a combination of comedy and horror flawlessly, it is a must-watch for all horror genre fans."
Taking a sip of my coffee as he reads the review, I look at David and say, "You sound upset, David. Are you regretting not taking the project when you had the chance?"
Looking at me flatly while he puts down the paper, David says, "Maybe a little."
Then, look at each other coldly for a short time before laying out loud in good cheer. Was David a bit sore about not taking the project now that it had been so successful? Maybe a little bit, but if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he could have done as good a job as Wes.
After we both laugh for a bit, David says, "This should finally shut everyone up about your abilities. You must be happy."
"I would hope so. 11,000 in the first week is a hell of a fucking number." I say to him.
While I was initially worried about the movie not doing as well as the information I had said it did. All of my worries seemed to have been for nothing. Due to the combination of Wes's directing ability, Salma and Tiffani's fan base, and my own, the movie did a lot better than New Line's original projection said it would. I believe they had thought it would only do about 4 to 5 thousand in the first week. Still, good numbers for the month it came out on, but what they actually got was beyond what they had dared hoped. It was enough that New Line was not so gently asking me when the script for Scream 2 would be ready. I, of course, answered as soon as possible but held off on letting them know it was already prepared so I could get a bigger paycheck.
"So what is next for you, Caesar? Going to work on Scream 2." David asks, curious about my future plans.
"Not immediately; I have been talking to WB. They want me to help write on an upcoming TV show." I tell David, piquing his curiosity about my future endeavors.
Something that came as a bit of a surprise to me, but perhaps it shouldn't have. I had made no secret that I wanted to branch out into TV, and with New Line being a part of Warner Bros, clearly, someone had let them know. And with Scream's success, they most likely wanted to see if I could work my magic for them on their new TV Show. The same show I hoped to get on board in the first place.
"Really, what is the show about?" David asks.
"Some teen horror comedy called the Slayer. Working title," I told him.
"You going to do it?" David asks me.
"Thinking about it. I may have told them I wanted to direct at least some of it. So they are being hesitant," I tell him, revealing my ambition and the challenges I face in achieving it.
"Ya, they tend to do that," David says in understanding.
He may have had faith in Caesar's talent as a writer and casting, but he was unsure if Caesar was ready to direct yet. David knew he would get there one day. There was no stopping that, but two years in the business was hardly enough time to make the jump from writer to writer and director.
It was okay, however, I thought to myself. The truth was they didn't need me, and I didn't need them. After Scream came out, there were a lot of people who wanted me to write for them. Any hesitation about me as a writer had more or less disappeared, and a bidding war for my other two unfinished scripts was on the way. The only question was who would get them.
I knew Miramax was one of the front runners in the bidding. They were clearly unhappy that they had lost out on getting Scream and wanted my two other scripts. So they were bidding high, but they would likely only get one because several of the big six were also looking to get ahold of one of them. This would drive the price up by a lot, and I somewhat doubted the Weinstein brothers had the capital to compete with them.
That, however, didn't matter all that much to me. Yes, it would give me a great payday, but my real goal right now was to develop even more connections to the movie industry. If I were ever to open my own production company, I would need those connections if I hope to play in the big leagues.
"Oh, David, that reminds me. I had this idea and wanted to pass it by you," I say to him.
"Oh, what is it? Another script?" David asks, intrigued.
That was the thing between him and Caesar. Caesar trusted him to the point that he had been allowed to look at Ceaser's notebooks that housed all his ideas and thoughts. And while most of them were filled with half-baked and not-even-baked ideas. There were a few practical gems among the chaos.
"Actually, yes, do you remember when I let you look at one of my notebooks, and there was a character named Tyler Durden?" I ask him
It takes David a moment to remember this character and says, "Yes, I believe so; he was a character from a book you had read, right?"
"That is right, and after thinking about it some more, I think I have an idea of how to bring the book to life," I say to him.
"Really? Tell me more." David says.
I then lean forward and start telling David the bare-bone plot of Fight Club. Which was based on a book I had read last summer. It is no sooner than I am done telling him my ideas that David gets up and starts to head back to his office with plans to buy the movie rights for the book after telling me to start working on a screenplay. Ya, he wanted to make what I knew would become one of the best movies of the 90's. Even if the box office weren't as good as it should have been when people look back, it would be considered one of our time's defining cult movies—something I wanted to my name.
This is a quick reminder for those who forget that not everything can go your way. It doesn't matter how successful you are. There are limits to what you can do within your limited time. What I mean is that while WB had called me up to come to write for them on the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I was too late to cut them off at the pass and get to Joss myself. If I had, perhaps I would have had more leverage to push for being allowed to direct at least one episode. But I didn't, being too busy with Scream and the resulting aftermath to focus on this doing so.
Too many interviews, too many promotions, all of it worth it, but the window had closed. Now, all I could do was get involved in this TV Show and maybe, down the line, get the chance to direct at least one time in the coming years. Until then, I was busy sitting in a room with Joss and a load of other writers on his team while they reviewed the scripts I had written for the first 12 episodes of the show. To say they were stunned that I had written so much in the span of a few weeks would be putting it mildly.
Here, they were no doubt preparing for a long, different filing process that would include writing while the filming was ongoing, only for me to come along and drop the first 12 episodes right in their lap. Granted, like everything else I did, I only gave them about 70 percent of what the original had and added my own shit that was either good or bad, depending on who you asked. In fact, I had made more than a few little changes to Scream that made the final cut. Nothing that would be really noticeable in anyone knew about the original script, but there were there.
That is why I was here today to discuss any needed script changes. Joss himself liked them more or less, but he was also a massive fan of Se7en and Scream. So, he wasn't in the right mindset to make a judgment call. At least at first, but after I started to critique my own work, he joined in. Then, the rest of his team as well. By the end of the first day, while it was agreed most of the scripts were good, they all needed to be reworked as some things didn't work while others did. I, of course, pushed back on some of the changes they wanted to make, and arguments popped up occasionally. But at the end of the day, things worked out, and we were well on our way to creating a TV show, with me credited as the lead writer. Other than that, not a whole lot was really going on.
The cast had already been picked before I came on board. So they didn't need me for that. However, I did get to meet a few of them before the taping began. After that, nothing, and that was the thing about being a Hollywood writer or working in Hollywood, period. There was a lot of downtime in between projects. While I didn't have a lot of faith in all of my scripts, including The Strangers, considering how good it did at the box office in my head, I accepted I could be wrong. However, all of these were currently in pre-production, and casting hadn't even been started yet. So, with free time on my hands, I spent it developing new skills.
During my time on Scream with Wes, I realized that my chances of becoming a director were small by the end of this century. Even WB, who valued my scriptwriting skills, was unwilling to allow me to direct a TV show. To get around the limitations they were putting on me, I decided to start taking music lessons on the side, primarily in how to write sheet music. If I could show the people in Hollywood that I could write a good screenplay and the music to said screenplay, I would open up a lot of doors and change the way people see me—at least skill whys.
The question, however, was where to start. That was a question I didn't currently have an answer to. Well, I was sure something would come to me sooner or later. I had a date with perhaps one of the most important people in Hollywood's history: the one and only Steven Spielberg.
You know, I was honestly surprised that it wasn't that hard to get a meeting with Steven Spielberg. You would think a man of his caliber would be harder to get ahold of, especially if you were a new screenwriter with only two hits to your name. That may have well been the case now that I thought about it some more, but I had Gwyneth in my back pocket. Having kept her up to date on how far I was on the script it had promised her two years ago. She was delighted to hear I was done with it and ready to take it to her godfather on my behalf, with whom she had a surprisingly close relationship. That was how I found myself invited to Steven Spielberg's home for lunch with the man himself. Who, by the way, was a pretty chill guy.
Like me and pretty much everyone else I had met in this business, he loved movies. So much, in fact, that, like me, he watched everything he could get his hands on. There was nothing he was unwilling to watch at least once and then discuss in great detail. For example, Se7en and Scream. Before his goddaughter even asked him to read my script, he had already heard of me through these movies. Having seen them and liked them to a point. He wouldn't call them cinema masterpieces like some of his films, but he enjoyed them. Like so many others, he was shocked to find that someone as young as me could write them. So that would have gotten me in the door anyway, but Gwyneth got me a private meeting away from the eyes and ears of big wigs.
However, to say I wasn't somewhat nervous would be a lie. Even if I lived to be over 100 years old and was still making hit movies that broke all the records, there were. I would still be living in the shadow of the giant. It was pretty humbling, to be honest, and another reminder to not forget where I have luck on my side. This man had pure skill to make something from nothing. A difference that would never change. I would never show it or say it, but I felt very small in front of this small, weak-looking man. Who touched the stars in a way I most likely would never have if it were not for the information in my head.
As for Steven himself, as he flips through page after page, he honestly doesn't know what to think of Caesar. Of course, he had heard of him and seen Se7en and Scream. And while personally, he found the latter a bit overhyped, the first was an actual work of genius. It was clear to anyone that Caesar had talent—the type of talent that may even match his own, but it was the man himself he didn't know what to make of. Caesar, like himself, loved movies and had seen such classics like Stagecoach, Captains Courageous, and Citizen Kane. Movies that few of this generation have ever heard about, nonetheless seen, but he came off rough and rugged.
Caesar was respectful but unfriendly. When he arrived, he showed nothing but respect for his wife and himself, but there was a wall between him and everyone else—a wall that was hidden behind a somewhat friendly exterior. He reminded Steven of the old gangsters who used to run Hollywood—tough and dangerous. Not that Steven himself was scared of the young man. Having dealt with his type before, they would respect you as long as you act respectfully towards them.
Steven could easily see how such a man, no matter his age, could write Se7en and Scream. However, he was not the type of man Steven would think could write a romantic comedy. Especially one as good as the one he was currently reading. Shakespeare in Love, as it was called, had its rough spots, but it was still, in his opinion, a fantastic take on the life and time of William Shakespeare. While far from perfect, its blend of comedy and drama was high quality. Even now, he could see in his mind's eye how the movie would go. At the same time, he could understand why Gwyneth bought Caesar to him.
No matter how good the script was, no one would have taken this script seriously, not from a man like Caesar, anyway. That was the thing about this business: once you became known for one thing, it was extremely difficult to get people to see you another way. And the longer time dragged on without a change, the harder it got. If Caesar had waited, let's say, another 5 years to try and do this, he most likely would have found someone to make the file, but it would most likely wouldn't have done well with audiences. This is because they would expect something else and not what they got. That was probably why the script didn't have the WGA logo or the US Copyright seal on it. Even if he got the script protected from plagiarism, the chances of someone picking it up were small due to Ceaser's first two scripts.
Once he flips past the last page, Gwyneth asks immediately. "So, godfather, what do you think?"
Steven has to keep himself from laughing. It was clear what she thought of the script from the start, and it mirrored his own. "It's good, excellent, in fact, Caesar ."
"Thank you," I say to the man, happy to hear him say so.
I may have already known it was good, but that didn't mean shit if Steven didn't like it. Regarding my knowledge, Spielberg had nothing to do with Shakespeare in Love. So, there was no way to know what he would think of the script when I gave it to him.
"I have to ask. I see Miss Hayek's name here, along with my goddaughter's. Can I ask if they really helped write this with you?" Steven asks.
Gwyneth was able to keep a straight face at the question, and so was I, but the fact was they didn't do a whole lot. Sure, I let Hayek believe she helped me with the more romantic parts of the script. So I could claim she, in fact, did help write it, but Gwyneth had next to nothing to do with it. Other than letting her help me with some of the dialogue.
I give him a mostly straight answer and say, "Salma, help me with the romance. I find that I am not necessarily very good at portraying that, and Gwyneth helped me with some dialogue."
Nodding his head, Steven sees right through me and says, "In other words, their contributions were minimal, but you put their names on it anyway to sell the script."
"Your words, Mr. Spielberg, not mine," I answer him plainly, while Gwyneth seems to take office at what her godfather said but keeps quiet for now.
"Smart, put the names of a couple of women on the script to give it more legitimacy," Steven says.
"An old trick but one that works for a reason," I tell him.
"And one that you hope I will help you in," Steven states, not asking. He knew how the game was played and wasn't against being used this way. After all, he used the same tactics and let others do the same with his name. That was what an executive producer often was.
"That is right. However, I would prefer it if you directed it, but if I can only have one, I will take the latter over the first." I say to him with a smile.
Steven smiles at that. At least Caesar is being honest. If he were to direct it, there would be no need to have him sign off on the script. After all, that alone would be enough to get the movie studios fighting for a chance to produce the film. Yet this wasn't just about getting the studios fighting over the script and making a lot of money. Caesar was trying to expand to other genres before being tight-cast as a writer who could only do thrillers and horrors.
Something Steven could admire about the young man, but he was unsure if he wanted to help him or not. Steven was a movie lover at his core, but in Hollywood, you couldn't just be a movie lover. You also needed to be a businessman. Shakespeare in Love is a good script and would make an even better movie. He could feel it in his bones, but so did movies like The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Labyrinth, and The Princess Bride. The fact was if Steven wanted to get DreamWorks off the ground, he needed a hit movie for its opening act. Did he dare to take the risk on this script or wait for something else to come along?
After a few moments, Steven leans forward and asks, "Let's say I was interested in this script. How much would you be willing to sell it for?"
I had him, I thought as I heard Gwyneth nearly squirrel in excitement. Of course, things would come down to how much I would be willing to sell it to him, but for Steven Spielberg, my goal wasn't to make a lot of money off this. Having sold all those other scripts, I would soon be flushed with cash, and Scream would bring me a lot of money soon enough. Would a little bit more help me with some of my goals? Yes, but having a friend as powerful and talented as Steven Spielberg was worth far more than any short-term gain. The only annoying thing was I would have to explain to my agent why I negotiated a deal behind his back.