L.A. 2002: Journals - Post #3: Oscar noms & AFM

February 12, 2001: Oscar nominations out this morning. Nicole Kidman called in personally to talk to reporter Chris Gardner. Miramax called looking for me, wanting to see if the magazine is running a post-nomination Screening Guide. We aren't. They were the only studio to ask; it’s been a record year for them.

Billy Bob Thornton was not nominated. I thought that was notable despite all of the
'For Your Consideration...' ads I’ve seen in both trades for Monster’s Ball, Bandits and The Man Who Wasn’t There. Actors like Thornton . Maybe there’s some old-guard defense of Laura Dern, she's part of an acting dynasty. Thornton’s father-in-law Jon Voight was nominated for his Howard Cosell role in Ali. Baz Luhrmann wasn’t nominated for Moulin Rouge- bizarre, seeing as he modestly revitalized the musical genre. It’s happened to Steven Spielberg and Darren Aronofsky. Halle Berry got nominated for Monster’s Ball and I’m thrilled. Sissy Spacek nominated, 21 years after the Coal Miner’s Daughter win.

February 15, 2001: Got up and used the 7-Eleven ATM instead of my regular one. The schizo clerk at the counter got pissy with me. I had to snatch my money out of his hands and sent pennies flying while he gasped in shock. I’m not a morning person as it is and it all started with him ordering me not to lean on the counter when I was nowhere near it! I worked at a motherfuckin’ 7-Eleven in college and would never lean on those dirty a$$ counters.

February 16, 2001: Tracey Takes On…is hilarious. I’d excel at a show like that where I could play so many characters. I’m always working on different accents and paying attention to character traits. I did a good Cockney one at work today. Steve Brennan said it was completely authentic and he's Irish. Multi-character formats are a dream. Filmed or live.

February 21, 2002: Working the 22nd annual American Film Market (AFM) in Santa Monica and it’s a meet market. The Reporter is one of the sponsors for this market of independent films. People come into our suite all day with news and press releases. One of the director/producers of a horror film came in today and offered me a part in the sequel, in front of the writers. We had a good natured laugh because it would be like 'Karl Gibson in 'Bonkers, Part 2' or something like that.

Took a break and went to a press junket I wasn't covering. Later, in the green room suite, one of the media outlet reporters called his studio contact and said, “You guys are on a bad streak. Hart’s War is in seventh place?! Who thought?” He hung up and talked to his male reporter friend who wondered aloud, “Should I cut my hair? I was thinking of a mushroom cut?”

I didn’t want to say that no male really should willingly want a mushroom cut. His colleague said the mushroom would look cute, then he gazed at himself in the full-length hotel mirror and looked exhausted. “I’m so ugly,” he cried and slid down the wall in a concave slouch, hands over head. It was a private little meltdown like I hadn’t seen by a writer prince. I’m used to the actor's variety of this. No one said anything in response.

L.A. 2002: Journals - Post #2: Cookies n' Milk and Guard Dogs, Oh My...

January 30, 2002: Susanne, my manager, is back tomorrow after a vacation overseas. I was the office manager of the newsroom for almost 2 weeks. I’ve been eager for her return so she can do what she loves.

February 6, 2002: Bebbles got a nice gig in Glendale and was elated. I am, too. These were some frontier times- the sweat of the browz [sic], survival stuff. It’s been a busy time between work and everything else. I did the math and I’ve had 10 hours - maybe - completely alone in 2 ½ months. That’s like reality TV:10 hours out of 1800 where I was alone without anyone else in the room. Love allows you to withstand realities like that. I’d never think I could do that.

February 7, 2002: Today was as busy in the newsroom as I’ve seen, save for 9/11. The 2002 Calendar of Events I completed could not be found, even by the IT dept. How does 15 feet worth of column-inches vanish? One of the production managers had a version she’d saved and all was well.

I met *Skippy Dross* today, he’s a corporate PR guy for one of the majors, in a press room. I’d talked to him a few weeks ago at THR on the phone, taking his message down for one of the international editors. I thought it went fine.

Skippy called the reporter back later and said, on speakerphone, that he was glad to hear that The Reporter "has a new guard dog now," talking about me while the reporter laughed heartily. I’d heard of Skippy sending cookies and milk recently to *Cassandra Moore*, an intrepid reporter/anchor, whose response was: “Skippy Stewart can take his cookies and milk and fuck himself!” Cassie is hilarious and her refusal was remarkable since she’s like a kid in that she’ll usually eat anything sweet. Meeting Skippy in person today, I think we won’t have any more canine references about me.

Back in the newsroom, the editors’ lines were going bonkers and they were all at various other work commitments. I had Steve Moskow and the head of Columbia, separately, calling in for interviews; I juggled them on speakerphone while I paged the reporters. It wasn’t anyone’s fault; the editors were at the French Embassy. The Columbia interview went well and they told the editor to tell me I was smart, which he did (“Compliments from bigwigs are impressive, Karl.”). I heard the same about the other interview and that was cool.

Meanwhile, one of our website links was bringing up a porn site. By the time I left tonight, I’d taken 200 calls. “And not a hair out of place,” said Cynthia, the deputy editor. “Don’t forget me when you get famous.”

Home by 9:30 p.m. Bebbles’ new gig starts in two days.

L.A. 2002: Journals - Post #1

January 2, 2002: Back to work. Working at The Reporter is like being in a very tall, expensive observation tower: you can’t touch but you can direct the traffic. You see everything under the big top.

January 8, 2002: After-hours, I get crazy voice mails at work. This is the latest transcript from what sounded like a 30-ish, chemically-altered WASP:

“Hi, this is Sally Cynical -or Valentina- and I want you all to know about the horrible screw-job that was made from the time I was a child by the movie industry and the music industry. I made BILLIONS for this town and in creator’s fees I have been paid Zero. Even the record company and a major TV network did not pay for the things they did [pauses to compose herself].

It was an international record deal and another one that was stolen music. UNPAID COMPLETELY! Now this involves ‘Pretty Woman’ – 100% my life, written about me, NO permission given. The part given to Julia? Everyone acts like they didn’t do anything wrong. No money AT ALL!

‘Thelma & Louise,’ ‘The Titanic,’ [sic] and 'Jurassic Park': my idea. So, anyway, they’ve stolen all my creator fees. Five directors and a rich family are behind this. There’s a man living right in front of me who does the dirty work and they have a bunch of Mexicans doing it as well. They give you a cheap place to live, they erase your phone messages…um…you don’t get anything but a minimum wage job year after year after year. They do mail transfers because you don’t need a photo ID. Um, they steal you blind and then when they finally take all your money..they..they..take your unemployment and your health care and when you have nothing left they serve up an EVICTION!” Click

January 12, 2002: Jenifer Lewis has a show at the Tiffany Theater opening this month, a one-woman show produced by Iris Gay Parker. Iris also produced Ruby Dee’s show ‘My One Good Nerve’. Iris called and I told her I love Jenifer Lewis.

January 13, 2002: I thought this quote from Yves Saint Laurent’s retirement announcement, at age 65, was noteworthy:

“Every man needs aesthetic phantoms in order to exist. I have hunted mine out, pursued them, tracked them down. I have grappled with anguish, and I have been through sheer hell. I have known fear and the terrors of solitude…It was Marcel Proust who taught me that ‘the magnificent and pitiful family of the hypersensitive are the salt of the earth.’ I, without knowing it, was a part of that family.”

January 26, 2002: Called my brother for his birthday and found out that my grandmother Blanche, 'Gran'mama', was moved into a nursing home at the age of 91. She was found under a radiator in her home in Washington, D.C.; didn't recognize anyone and couldn't talk. Sad news of a lovely woman. I always loved her. I spoke to her recently and sent her pictures. She remembered when I was acting how she thought I should be on All My Children.

Last time we spoke she asked if I needed money and told me how smart I was ("You was always in them books."). The last thing she said to me was, "Remember, if Hollywood gets to be too much, you always have a place to lay your head here at Gran's. You hear?" So sweet. Blanche. I'm glad she knew I loved and missed her.

L.A. 2001: Journals: Post # 26: Year's End

December 14, 2001: Reading Andy Warhol. New York and L.A. seem to be exactly the same in regard to exclusivity (A-list caste) and social desperation based on what I’m reading. Warhol knew the hysterical underside and mania of the every day in those realms.

Went to THR today and got a gift bag from DreamWorks, sent by one of the staff there who I talk to a lot covering the film-beat phones. It was a sweet gesture. Two years ago I couldn’t get an interview for Minority Report and today I get a holiday gift. Those kinds of ironies and changes in relationships are continuously amazing and I appreciate that. I do my job, I’m not a **** and I have a proper perspective on the business. I’m working, like the cute lumberjack. My manager saw my gift bag and was shocked I’d gotten one. It was hilarious how she was so shocked that I could actually get something. She’s not underhanded and I like her but she can’t help it.

December 16, 2001: It’s a hustle. Hollywood is a hustle. I haven’t even started my hustle. I’ve reached a point where I’m having to learn something else and this is the greatest opportunity I’ve had to branch out from. Right now it’s like learning tech on a show and how things really run on an intricate level. The entire experience and hard work can be parlayed into something artistic later. I’m writing more on my own time too.

December 25, 2001: 20 centuries and one year since Christ was born.

Worked Christmas Eve at THR. Presents from family at the post office. I bought myself books for Christmas. Bebbles cooking when I got home and we got to talk and chill. Blessed, tired, working hard and it will all get easier.

December 27, 2001: It’s awful to kiss your lover in the morning and come home in a bad mood.

December 30, 2001: 4:17 a.m. this morning: Bebbles and I lay, talking about this last year, in bed under an overcast sky made silver and blue by a near-full moon. You could feel God’s presence in that beauty.

L.A. 2001: Journals: Post # 25: Aerial Views

November 19, 2001: The computer servers were draggin’ camel ass in the newsroom while we were all on deadline. I'm working on the 2002 Event Calendar: ten single-spaced pages. I was assigned the calendar, covered 30 phone lines and started on the Oscar Screening Guide.

My phone rings and it’s someone sounding like a Monster truck driver, “Hey! How do you spell ‘joie de vivre’?!” ....except it was ‘jwah de vee,’ like he was being yanked by the hair. It was a hoot and he didn’t doubt I knew how to spell it, which was refreshing.

November 25, 2001: Two huge projects that must be fed: the editorial calendar and the Oscar Screening Guide. I paced myself and learned how to edit, by necessity, and did solid work. I’m going to start scheduling my days in advance. I wrote up the birth/wedding announcements I do for the magazine, answered messages and e-mails. I got a polite letter from a reporter in England at the Sun.

November 27, 2001: Finished the first part of the Oscar Screening Guide that the magazine runs daily: that gig deserves a byline for anyone who does it. If you printed it out it would be 31 feet of typed copy. Harley Lond has been my editor on it. He’s old school and can see I’m thorough about us not having mistakes. The magazine runs all of the awards screenings in L.A., N.Y., San Francisco, Aspen, Maui and London. What has to be entered are: the movie title, the studio, the theater, the time it’s showing, and the RSVP number for all Oscar hopefuls.

Worked with a temp today, a nice guy who really did his best. I made sure to give feedback for the agency with ‘excellent’ checked all through with some great comments on his work. He saw the comments and visibly appreciated it; for me it was a way to use my teaspoon of clout to help a temp out, seeing as I was a temp myself recently. It’s a tough market right now and strong evaluations keep you working. I spared him some heavy-lifting and he kept the phones from swallowing me whole. He was a cool kid, said he didn’t want to be in the Industry at all.

November 28, 2001: Another busy day. Hollywood: people making so much money it’s like ‘Monopoly’ money everywhere you look. It’s interesting in the cases where manners and class are lacking; you’d think that’d be included there with the money. It’s amazing. God bless the real service men who protect the rights of everyone to pursue whatever they want. The rest of us are all civilians.
I was on standby at deadline tonight in case the deputy editor had to dictate a story for me to type. I waited to see if I was needed while the servers were fixed and cleaned up my own copy. The computer servers came through.

December 3, 2001: The Screening Guide is going well. Variety’s edition mixed up Miramax and New Line, which triggered a memo from the publicists to the trades. My editor showed me the memo and said, “Keep it as proof of your efficiency.”

December 6, 2001: My first voice mail this morning was from an irate, snarling Australian. The transcript:

“Yeah, g’day Karl. I was having lunch in Hollywood today and I saw Nicole Kidman get kicked out of a restaurant. I’m visiting from Australia and I was absolutely DISGUSTED. Nicole was told to leave her table. I don’t know why. Mate, I’m on my way back to Australia and I’ll be telling the Aussie press that you guys are a bunch of LOSERS over here. You should treat the stars- especially from Australia- with a little more RESPECT. You might want to call her publicist and APOLOGIZE on behalf of Americans for the way you treat Australian film stars.”

It was nothing the magazine would pursue, much less print, still we had a few laughs playing that message on speakerphone- the caller’s voice was dripping with such disdain. As a water cooler discussion, none of us believed the message or that any restaurant personnel in their right mind would put Nicole Kidman out like some pariah. People have their opinions about the Kidman-Cruise split and the ‘tip’ was probably just an attempt to stir the debate up again.