I should have been writing. This weekend turned into the Lost Weekend, a film by Billy Wilder. Rather than hole up in front of the computer, with a movie playing in the background, for inspiration, I went out Saturday night. It's not as though I was suffering from writer's block; I simply went out for it was convenient; the worst reason.
The audition was at 2PM. I was already late getting there. The role was man that used to be a superhero but lost his powers and is now a villain. It was intriguing because I was told the inspiration for the role was Kevin Spacey in Se7en (the coolest movie title/spelling ever) mixed with Heath Ledger as Joker. This is the kind of role that is creatively satisfying and I couldn't wait to try out for it. Come to find out, the script was so poorly written, the dialogue so atrocious, I turned down the opportunity for the role. I felt terrible for the director, thinking this material was worthy of being made into a film. Now, I'm no screenplay connoisseur but I like to believe that I can spot decent writing when it's placed in front of me.
The way things are going in Hollywood, anymore, I'm sure this is the kind of movie that would be greenlit after the producer heard the pitch. "Good guy turns bad, tries to kill new good guy, says things like 'Who's laughing now?', SIGN ME UP. Here's a check for 30 million, have it done by Thursday"
And it will probably happen just as I wrote it.
So, my next goal was to leave the audition, head back home, lock myself in and write all night. Didn't happen. Not even close. I left the audition and went to meet Ben and his fine honey, Shawna, at a local dive bar so we could swim in the molten jacuzzi of lushhood. Ohio State won; I could give a shit less. The sea of scarlet and gray was boring and the people sporting their proud colors were no more entertaining. Ben and Shawna are cool as hell, don't get me wrong, and they kept me thoroughly entertained throughout. It's just the people we met, out and about, that were either obliterated to the point of obnoxiousness, or they were simply inept at carrying on a conversation about anything other than their prior nights endeavors, which undoubtedly involved even more alcohol than they were currently consuming.
Not as though my way of drowning it out was any better than their way of celebrating. I drank to descend myself to a lower level of consciousness. It was then I was able to "relate" to them. And when I say relate I'm actually talking about the words "Oh yeah?", "Really?", "You don't say!" and my personal favorite, "Fascinating!".
So the evening pushes into late night and we find ourselves at a party being held by some of the coolest people I've met. Our friend, Evan, noticed the drumset was avail to anyone looking to get the bodies moving. He did just that, but well! I think it had to do with being away from the Ohio State fans, who use the team's victory as an excuse to be a binge lush.
All in all, I'd say I had a great time. I certainly gained a few memorable lines and happenings that will find their way into a scene in a script I'll work on soon.
Just not soon enough.
On a side note: I went to buy a scarf from The Gap. I opted against it when I saw that the scarves were FORTY FUCKING DOLLARS! Sorry, Gap, but we're in a recession and Goodwill has a better selection.