So, the Pres of Unapix Entertainment slides a $150,000 dollar check across the table. “Are we in business?”
It would have taken Superman to push it back at this slick fellow. Alas, no capes here. Handshakes all around. Paperwork would be messengered over in the morning.
Next day the contracts came in. About the size of a Yellow Pages, we hired a young lawyer, friend of my brother, to help us interprete the document.
Life Lesson 923: Hire The Best Entertainment Lawyer You Can Possibly Afford. It will save you one hundred-fold on the back end.
Our guy was good in pointing out the obvious: Boiler plate language lead to two major points: 1-Unapix owned all domestic distribution. 2-Unapix would control final cut. This meant that while I, as director, would edit to the Rough Cut, Unapix would have final say on the Fine Cut. They controlled the movie in its final form. They also would receive first monies to pay back their investment plus profit percentages, yada yada…
What did I know? I was a freakin’ craps dealer living in a sub-basement apartment in Aurora, Illinois. The business end bored me to tears. I just wanted to shoot a movie that honored my dead girlfriend.
Life Lesson 924: Sometimes it pays to take off the arty-farty, adolescent, paper Pirate hat and put on the hat of a Business Man, because the Man sitting across the desk will GUT you if you don’t.
I recall some discussion of the boiler plate language. Could we trust them? Well, the meeting with the Pres couldn’t have gone better. They respected our artistic instincts. We wouldn’t have a problem on the back end.
No, not us.
This led to a meeting with…let’s call her Niki Nikita. I’ve written about her before. She would be the project’s producer, point-woman for the Unapix interests. First impressions were mutually impressive. My brother and I sat before her on our black Aeron Side chairs and listened as she gushed on about our abilities. The new Coen Brothers! Our futures were bright, bright, bright! Into her office walked a Hollywood finonchio, a geled-hair slicko. Niki hugged him as he showed her a poster design for his first movie. The guy’s name was Doug Liman and his movie was called Swingers. Can’t remember if I was impressed at the time but if that was the image of director success then my Salvation-Army polo shirt wearing chunkiness left a lot to be desired. As Niki saw him out I noticed something on her desk. Was that…yep…a Tony Award. Niki produced Nicholas Nickleby on Broadway. From our dumpster diving non-Equity Chicago theater days, we had definitely taken a step up in class.
With the Unapix money behind us we moved up in class to SAG low budget status. We were able to make better offers to the agencies and some amazing actors rolled into our auditions. For the small role of BANDSTAND HAT GUY, we had Richard Bright come in. Richard is one of the greatest 3rd-guy-on- the-right actors in the movies. Richard killed Fredo in the rowboat in Godfather 2! Richard held down Dustin Hoffman in the classic Lawrence Olivier dentist scene in Marathon Man. Richard was the guy who stole the suitcase of money in the original The Getaway and had the shit kicked out of him by Steve McQueen. A legend!
We had to cast our pals Arthur Nascarella and Vinny Pastore. This was years before they became famous in The Sopranos. I was asked who I thought would be the ideal choice for Jane’s druggy friend and I said Wish List #1 was Elina Lowensohn. Elina was in Schindler’s List. She was also a favorite of Hal Hartley, and had been the oh-so-sexy vampire of Michael Almereyda’s Nadja. Funny how money makes all things possible. Look up and who’s auditioning for us but Elina Lowensohn. I tried—and failed—not to be the star-struck fool. Had my picture taken with her but stopped short of asking for an autograph. I mean, I was the director, I had to maintain a modicum of professionalism, riiiiiight?
I’ve still got the headshots for Frank Vincent, Dan Hedaya, and Paul Sorvino, all of whom were discussed for the role of Jane’s father. In the end we went with Joey Ragno, who was one of the convicts in Shawshank Redemption. His passion for the script was obvious from the first audition. The bigger name guys weren’t going to audition for us, they wanted offers presented to them. Joey wanted it.
Life Lesson 925. Trust your gut with casting.While a name actor will open backend doors in terms of festivals and distribution, the lesser-named actor with passion might give a far better performance. If neither actor helps with box office, remember that you’ll be spending up to 12 hours a day on set with them. Who would you rather spend three weeks of 12-hour days with? Gather opinions from your inner circle, but trust your gut.
While finding the supporting players was challenging, nothing compared to casting the role of Jane. Never had that level of actress competed to read my words. Surreal, looking at it now. Robin Tunney had just done The Craft, and wanted us to make her an offer. Beautiful and talented Adrienne Shelly came in, star of Hal Hartley’s The Unbelievable Truth, writer-director of Waitress, murdered so senselessly in an apartment robbery in 2007. A pre-Sopranos, pre three-time Emmy winning Edie Falco came in too. None of these even made it to the Final two.
Lara Phillips, a Chicago actress who just won a Jefferson Award for an adaptation of mine, Never Come Morning, was my choice. She had range, from innocence to devastating depth. She’d be totally believable as a junky. I flew her in for audition thinking, well, I’m the writer AND director, I get to decide who plays the role.
Wrong!
Another actress entered the discussion. She had done a small speaking part in Quiz Show but nothing much in film. Her bigger accomplishments were in theater. In ’94 she debuted on Broadway as Laura in The Glass Menagerie. Famed actress Julie Harris gave her glowing reviews, star-in-the-making stuff. When Gersh Agency sent her over she was not famous in any way. But in walked Calista Flockhart…
