Hollywood Animal (102 page)

The Hughes brothers, two of my Hollywood heroes, directors of
Menace II Society
and
Dead Presidents
, had even worked on their dialogue with me. But at the last minute, they decided they weren’t comfortable playing themselves.

“Naw, man,” Allen said. “Come on, dude. We’re not
actors
.”

The Hughes brothers became the fictional “Brothers Brothers.”

The character Sam Rizzo, a fictional private eye, was based on the real-life Hollywood private eye Anthony Pellicano.

In the original draft, Sam Rizzo’s name was even Anthony Pellicano and Tony was going to play himself.

When Sylvester Stallone agreed to play himself and discovered that Anthony Pellicano was going to be in
Smithee
, Sly threatened to back out of the movie. He and Pellicano had been on opposite sides in a lawsuit.

I had to inform Tony that I had to fire him (from playing himself) because of Sly.

“Then who’s gonna play me?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Jesus,” he said, “you write a part that’s me, you have me playing me and using my own name, and now it’s
all gone?
”

I called him back a couple of weeks later and told him that the head of Miramax, Harvey Weinstein, had volunteered to play the part.

“You’re going to cast Harvey Weinstein as me?” Tony said in disbelief. “
Harvey Weinstein?
You take my persona, you take my name, and now you’re going to turn me into Harvey Weinstein? I didn’t do anything to deserve this!”

I changed the character’s name from Anthony Pellicano to Sam Rizzo.

We needed to find an interesting-looking bartender for a scene.

I suggested Michael Ovitz to Arthur Hiller.

I thought Michael would make a sensational bartender.

Arthur thought it was a great idea and got in touch with him. Michael thanked Arthur but said he was busy.

Michael said he had also turned Albert Brooks down on another film.

Sly Stallone came out to our Malibu house a few days before the shoot began.

· · ·

I wasn’t sure what Sly wanted, although Arnold warned me that Sly hadn’t yet signed his
Smithee
deal.

What Sly wanted, I quickly discovered in my living room, was for me to write a script for him where he could play a televangelist.

Since he hadn’t signed his
Smithee
deal yet, I said I would … if he could get a deal from a studio.

Sly and I went to see Ronnie Meyer and a roomful of executives at Universal a few days later and tried to talk him into financing a script where Sly would play a televangelist.

Ronnie Meyer was Sly’s former agent, but he fell asleep during the meeting.

Shortly after I tried to talk Universal into letting me write the script for Sly, Sly signed his
Smithee
deal.

On the way over to that Universal meeting, Sly and I had a heart-to-heart about writing.

He hadn’t written a script for a long time and wondered why.

“Probably because you’ve had your head in pussy for the past thirty years,” I said.

Sly laughed and said, “You know what? You’re probably right.”

Sly only had one day to shoot.

He hadn’t memorized any of his scenes, it turned out.

He improvised all of it—every line of every scene.

More than twenty years ago, I had threatened to punch him out for changing my script in
F.I.S.T
.

Now, he and I were pals and he was changing my script of
Smithee
.

Chuck D. asked me to introduce him to Jackie Chan, who was his hero.

Chuck asked Jackie for his autograph.

I introduced Chuck to Whoopi Goldberg, too.

Whoopi’s daughter was there and she asked Chuck for his autograph. He was
her
hero.

Bob Shapiro, my friend and lawyer and now, thanks to O. J. Simpson, one of the most famous men in the world, was on the set and asked me to introduce him to Sly.

Sly saw us coming toward him, got up, and started walking away.

I hurried after him.

“Hey, Sly,” I said, “I wanted to introduce you to—”

“Get that motherfucker away from me!” Sly said. “I don’t even want to look at him.”

Bob Shapiro overheard him and turned away.

I went after him and said, “I’m sorry, Bob.”

“Forget it,” Bob Shapiro said. There were tears in his eyes.

Robert Evans had a love scene with the young and sultry Leslie Stefanson in Bob’s pool.

He asked me for Leslie’s phone number afterward.

I refused to give it to him.

Evans said, “You cocksucker, you’re just a screenwriter, remember?”

Ryan O’Neal met Leslie Stefanson on the set, dumped Farrah Fawcett, his longtime love, and began living with Leslie.

Now Evans was really angry.

Ryan O’Neal had “stolen” the young woman whose phone number I wouldn’t give him.

Evans and Ryan had “history together” as they say in Hollywood. While Evans was married to Ali MacGraw, Ali had an affair with Ryan.

So this was the second time Ryan had “robbed” Bob.

Deep into the shoot, Fred Leopold, the former mayor of Beverly Hills, an esteemed and venerable libel lawyer hired by Cinergi, raised objections to some lines in the script.

I wrote him a letter:

Dear Mr. Leopold:

You have told me to remove the reference
“In love with Michael Sovitz”
on the fictional character Gary Samuels’s card. Gary Samuels is an agent and I don’t see any reason why he couldn’t be in love with the fictional character Michael Sovitz. We changed the name Janet Maslin to Sheila Maslin to Sheila Caslin at your mandate. If the change Caslin for Maslin satisfied you, I don’t understand why the change Sovitz for Ovitz doesn’t
.

You have told me to remove the reference to the different fictional Saudi princes as well as to Hugh Grant. In a previous memo, you told me yourself that there are no such living Saudi Arabian princes and that the names themselves are unlike names that Saudi princes or Arabs anywhere would use. Then what is the problem? Your suggestion that I replace the names with the phrase “various Saudi princes” isn’t funny. Please let me be the judge of what’s funny and what isn’t—I suspect I may have a better sense of humor than you do
.

As far as removing Hugh Grant’s name—let me remind you. Hugh Grant was arrested for hiring a hooker to blow him. The blow job became one of the most celebrated blow jobs in history. Hugh Grant copped—I purposely chose the word—to being blown on every talk show in the country. The blow job became a standing joke on Letterman, Leno, and
Saturday Night Live.
Are you really trying to tell me that to say that a woman with a checkered personal history like the fictional Aloe Vera has a lust for Hugh Grant is a libel or slander upon Hugh Grant’s character?

You have told me to remove the reference to Sean Penn. It is a Sly Stallone improvised line: “If you don’t get that camera out of my face, I’m gonna Sean Penn your ass!” Sean Penn has a lengthy and public history of beating up photographers. He even went to jail for it. His proclivity for beating up photographers has, once again, been the butt of jokes on every comedy show out there. What’s the problem? Are you a friend of his? (I am.) Do you represent him?

I hope that I will hear from you soon and that you will end all this silliness
.

The esteemed and venerable Leopold, who didn’t represent Sean, probably tired of dealing with me, backed off.

As the shoot ended, Arthur Hiller and I couldn’t have been happier.

But the first screening of the movie didn’t go well.

It was my fault, not Arthur’s. Arthur had shot every word of my script—a mock, all-talk documentary.

And the research screening audience drowned in all the words.

The only solution, I felt, was to cut the film drastically and add humorous, counterpointing music (the only music in Arthur’s cut was “Hooray for Hollywood”).

At Cinergi’s request, I did my own cut of the movie.

I cut twenty-two minutes of my own words.

I put together a temporary musical score using well-known rock music.

Even though he disapproved of my cuts and disapproved of me cutting “his” movie, Arthur, in a heroic act of kindness, sat next to me in the editing room and helped me to do it.

· · ·

Cinergi liked my cut and not Arthur’s and made a decision to release mine in theaters.

Arthur felt he wasn’t being given a fair shake by Cinergi. His rough cut wasn’t a director’s cut, he said, but only a “rough assembly.” He felt he was owed
further
cuts and screenings.

But Cinergi’s decision was firm: my cut would go into the theaters.

After a successful screening of my cut, I said, “Arthur, you should kiss my ass in Times Square for putting all this work into the cut.”

The next day, at a meeting at Cinergi, Arthur agreed to go out into theaters with my cut and said, “I’ve already called Mayor Giuliani to make reservations for Times Square.”

We laughed and hugged.

The following afternoon, without explanation, by fax, Arthur Hiller resigned from the film.

An Alan Smithee Film
was now an Alan Smithee film.

The credits would say “Written by Joe Eszterhas, directed by Alan Smithee.”

The press was all over Arthur and me.

The whole world thought the two of us had conspired in a gigantic publicity stunt.

The day after Arthur resigned, I was sitting in an editing room in Hollywood with a migraine headache.

I was finishing the cut of a movie—something I had never done before.

Cinergi, which had serious financial problems, informed me there was no more money:

A. To continue the editing process.

B. For the temporary music I was using for screenings.

C. For any music at all.

I agreed to waive my $250,000 fee so we could continue the editing process. But I had no idea how we’d be able to get any money to have any music in the movie. As I sat there, holding my head, Arthur, who had just resigned, walked in with a smile on his face.

“Well,” he said, “I just thought you might need some help. If you do, I’m here.”

I was getting up at four in the morning in Malibu to be in an editing room in Burbank by seven.

I finished at seven at night, got home at nine, and got up the next morning at four.

I did this for three months.

I hardly saw Naomi and the babies.

And I wasn’t being paid a penny for any of it.

At a certain point, God spoke to me.

“
Putz
,” God said. “
This is what
directors
do. It’s time you finally realized that. You’d better be very nice to every director you work with in the future
.”

I promised God on the lives of my children that I would be.

Richard Jeni, the young comedian who played the studio head in the movie, wrote me a note: “I have to say it was an honor to be in your film. I have to say that because I got paid scale and I’d feel really stupid if it wasn’t an honor. Thanks again for your support and encouraging words. If I had to sum up the experience in one word, that word would be: Fuckingreat!”

I was finally finished editing the film and now it was time to edit the music, which I thought the movie badly needed to relieve the unending stream of words and talking heads.

But Andy Vajna reiterated it: No more money. Not a cent more.

Desperate, I placed an ad in the trades begging unsigned talent for free music. A songwriters’ organization published an ad attacking me. Editorialists accused me of “ripping off” unsigned talent.

But I received 9,200 entries from all over the world. I sat down in my den from seven in the morning till seven at night listening to it all myself. It took about a month.

Andrew Shack, the head of Priority Records, who’d seen my ads, asked to see the rough cut of the movie. He enjoyed the movie, listened to some of the music that was coming in from everywhere, and made an album tie-in deal with us.

The artists whose “free music” would be in the movie would be paid and paid again if their songs wound up on the Priority CD.

No one was getting ripped off and I had miraculously gotten music for my movie.

We didn’t have film titles, though. Every movie had to have film titles. We didn’t and, I was so tired of hearing it
… there was no more money!

What was I going to do now? Put an ad in the trades for free titles at the beginning and at the end of the movie?

I decided to seek out some of the best graffiti artists in Los Angeles. I told them I needed titles for my movie. I showed them the rough cut. They said they were “down” with it. They painted some striking, beautiful sketches.

I paid them out of my own pocket.

I had my titles.

I wanted to place a card at the end of the film, before final credits, which said, “Special thanks to Arthur Hiller.”

I told Arthur what I wanted to do, he thanked me and said it was fine with him, but thought I should check with the Directors Guild.

I called the Guild.

The Guild voice, very sternly, said I would not be allowed to thank Arthur Hiller.

“
This is an Alan Smithee film!
” the voice said, almost spitting the words.

I turned the finished print over to Cinergi, who turned it over to Disney, who by contract with Cinergi had to distribute the movie.

By then I was in a war with Disney.

During my war with Disney, I changed the title of the film to:
An Alan Smithee Film: Burn Hollywood Burn
.

TO: MICHAEL EISNER

From: Joe Eszterhas

Date: January 15, 1998

Re: The Scenario for An Alan Smithee Film: Burn Hollywood Burn

Dear Michael
,

You and I collaborated on a screenplay once
—Flashdance—
that was pretty good. Try this one on for size; this one’s pretty bad. Here it is:

In late October, the chairman of the Walt Disney Motion Pictures Group, Dick Cook, charming and friendly, sits down to lunch with producer Ben Myron and me. He bemoans his baseball injury, talks about the glory years of the Dodgers, and tells us that, while
Burn Hollywood Burn
will not get any TV ads, it “will get plenty of print—don’t worry.” He says he will be the point man of the project, asks me to speak to him directly, and says I will be receiving a marketing plan “next week.” Liking him, happy about his attitude, I give him a hug as he departs
.