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| Quo Vadimus |
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Wednesday, July 02, 2003 L-E-X-U-S. "Jason Schwartzman's Birthday. I don't go to many parties, but I love Jason so I drive up into the Hollywood Hills to the location where no less than 10 valet parking attendents are waiting to take my Mercedes for a spin. No worries, I toss the keys to the one who looks least like a criminal and discover that I'm the first actual guest to arrive. Jason is looking, as someone related to him tells him, very Adrien Brody-ish in a dapper black suit. Jason is on his cellphone, demanding that the music arrive immediately so I talk to his brother, John Schwartzman, who has shot most of Michael Bay's movies. We talk for a while about the surreal life Michael leads, and I'm mesmerized with envy. He is truly my arch-nemesis, and worthy of my ultimate respect. I move indoors only to have Jack Black take my picture with his Palm Pilot. Jack and I marvel that this party has been catered by Rosco's Chicken and Waffles, and I'm delighted to discover vegan chicken strips and, oddly enough, vegan caviar. I eat several spoons of soy Beluga and then discuss the culinary advances made by Henry the 8th with Jack. We both agree that Jack must play Henry, when suddenly Jake Paltrow wanders in. He talks quieter than anyone I've ever met. By now, dozens of pre-legal waifs are running about, their arms no thicker than a thick carrot, and the party is in full swing. I notice that they're serving Bohemia at the free bar, so I bypass the line and help myself. Jake and I discuss his next film, which happens to be "The Secret History", a book that takes place at another Bennington-like school with the dubious name of Hamden. I'm excited, because I love the book. He tells me that the studio wants him to take his film to Canada, and so I launch into an hour long tirade on: the merits of shooting in Los Angeles; the Film California First Program; Final Cut Pro; editing in your underwear at home; two-three-pulldown; and the physiological differences between film and video; and how he should use actors from "The Rules of Attraction" in his background. And then, a most magical thing happens, Crispin Glover, who is one of my very favorite film personalities, wanders up and we begin discussing Warner Herzog at depth. He tells me about a fake dinner party which was supposed to be Herzog's house that wasn't at Herzog's house. He suspects the whole thing was videotaped, but can't be sure because he arrived late. He promises to introduce me and the small hairs on my neck begin to tingle. I resist the temptation to suddenly blurt out "it's warm even", and after resolving that we must work together, we trade email addresses. Crispin excuses himself since he's seen a particularly beautiful girl who he simply must meet, and I turn to Jack Black, who has been kind enough to bring me another beer. Mark Romanek pushes his way through the crowd, and he's beginning to look an awful lot like Captain Nemo -- as played by Maximilian Schell. We discuss our various fetishistic totems: my Kubrick jacket, as well as David Lean's director's finder, which I stole from the Victorine Studios in the South of France where he was prepping "Nostromo" before he died. Romanek introduces me to Robert Weide, the director/producer who is the mad genius behind my favorite show, "Curb Your Enthusiasm", and I instantly fall to my knees -- humbled. I tell him how much I identify with Larry, and he nods with a smile. I bump into a guy named Andrew, who I knew from my club kid days, and he tells me of the death of a mutual friend of ours named Cheryl to crystal meth in the early 90's. It's news to me, but I'm on a roll and have no intention of being brought down, so I worm my way into the crowd just as everyone begins singing "Happy Birthday". Soon, I bump into Crispin again, who has discovered that the beautiful girl is married. He tells me his plans for finishing the sequel to his bizarre self-financed film in Prague. We resolve that we must work together, and agree to a sharing of screenplays. Suddenly, it's an "Excuse me while I kiss the Skye" moment, straight out of "Glamorama". Once she and Crispin finish catching up, I make an attempt to convince her that the caviar is indeed vegan...but I think she thinks I'm not to be trusted. Phillip Noyce walks by, looking like Rasputin, and Crispin tells me about how he once very slowly collided into Phillip's Lexus (which Crispin slowly spells out for me, as if the branding were incredibly arcane: L-E-X-U-S). "I guess I'll never work with him", he smiles. I hug Jason and tell him I must go, since it's already well after midnight and I have to drive an hour and a half to my country home. He insists that I have to pose for a yearbook photo that will be used on the inside liner of his next CD. Mike White can't be bothered with waiting for his yearbook photo, and tells me that his publicist may have a problem with it. He departs with his entourage. The photo takes forever, and the valet takes an additional hour to find my car, which has probably been used to run a drug deal. The last image I see before my car arrives is Crispin Glover driving away in his enormous white Bentley. I wake this morning, still tasting vegan caviar on my tongue, and am going to spend the day researching straw-bale building techniques for my superinsulated passive solar house plan." - posted by Roger Avary, 6/29/03. posted by Linus | 1:43 PM |
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