Hollywood Confidential

It’s been my peculiar fate to live a movie star tabloid-worthy life.

You know, thrilling ups, dramatic downs.  Old husbands, young husbands.  In the chips. Tap City.  Tons of triumphs.  Too many tears.

And in a major twist, just as cruel Fate is ready to count our heroine down and out, a switcheroo Hollywood happy ending.

My true life story is so compelling that it just screams summer blockbuster.  But first I need a killer screenplay.

And I’m just the girl to write it.  Come on.  How hard could it be?

True, I have had no formal experience in the scenario trade, but I have studied the craft under Christopher Moltisanti on The Sopranos.  Unfulfilled as a mafioso, he had bought a “how to” book on the art of screenwriting.

Lucky for me.

I learned lots of useful things from him about plot development and importance of your main character having an “arc.”  (Christopher use to wail to Tony that his own life had no arc.  Me?  I don’t have that problem.  I’ve got enough arc for ten people.)

Good thing that Christopher also taught me how to take a Hollywood meeting.

You bring along a fellow mobster to cajole and threaten Ben Kingsley, (note: always remember to call him “Sir Kingsley) do cocaine with a hooker, and finally, mug Betty Bacall and take away her presenter’s freebie-crammed gift basket.

Got it.

And I’ve seen Get Shorty, and I know that all I have to do is write “fade in” and put in some periods and commas and stuff and then type” fade out” and voila!  I’m well on my way to a pitch meeting at Morton’s with producer Scott Rudin.

Check.

Okay, Scott’s in.  Now for a director on the project.

There can be only one.  David Fincher.

And though I loved The Social Network and Panic Room, it was his outstanding work on Se7en, Zodiac, and Fight Club that convinced me that he could deftly capture the je ne sais quoi of my ex husband’s breezy personality.

Hard work over.  Now comes the fun part.

Casting.

The legendary director John Huston used to say that the secret to his job was in the casting.  If he cast the part right, he wouldn’t have to work hard behind the camera.  And since this was the guy who did The Maltese Falcon, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre and The African Queen, who am I to argue?

(Note to friends/family: If you’re unhappy with my choices, don’t come emailing to me. It’s my movie and I’ll cast who I want to.)

Okay, first, who should play me?  If this were the golden era of Hollywood, I’d have to vote for Natalie Wood or Ali MacGraw.

But they’re both no longer available, so hmmm.

I need a brunette actress who can convincingly portray someone brainy yet adorable, intellectual yet winsome. Someone who can get inside my head even though her personal life bears little resemblence to mine… Natalie Portman…Kristen Stewart?

No, I’ve got it.  Demi Moore.

Now for my ex- the father of my children.  That’s a cinch.  In his younger days, when he was 6’3″ and dark and very handsome, I would have called upon Burt Reynolds. Remember when he was the dishy Cosmo hunk?

But now, Frank Langella- as Nixon.

The roles of my eternally-patient brother and long-suffering sister-in-law will be played by pre-off-the-deep-end Tom Cruise and Annette O’Toole.

Or Julianne Moore or Debra Messing or Marilu Henner.  (Screenwriter’s note:  Give sister-in-law final casting approval.  You’ll want to see your brother once in awhile and you’ll need her heavy Broadway producer cred when they decide to make Hollywood Confidential-The Musical.)

The part of my loyal best friend will be played by Uma Thurman.

The parts of all my divorce-intolerant girlfriends will be played by the cast of The Real Housewives of New York.

Now who should read for the brooding, sexy, much younger love interest that blew my already dead-in-the-water marriage to smithereens?

In the old days, it would have to have been Alain Delon or Richard Gere.  But I need to appeal to today’s audience.  Okay, Justin Timberlake or any of those Magic Mike guys.

The divorce lawyers?  No need to bother Georgianne Walken with that one.

Mine- Joe Pesci.  His- Steve Buscemi.

(And trust me, if you had seen our lawyers, you’d know that I am doing them a real mercy cast.  This is a major looks upgrade.)

Okay, we’re done with those tense courtroom drama scenes.  Now it’s time to look through the head shots for just the right actor to portray my next husband.

He’s Irish and charming and all man.  Paging Liam Neeson.

Almost done.  But I can’t forget about the kids.

For the role of “Nick,” I would tap either Gary Oldman or Thom Yorke of the band Radiohead.  True, Gary is older than I am, but he’s a masterful enough character actor to pull it off, and Nick really admires his oeuvre.

And Thom Yorke doesn’t have to actually appear in the film.  Maybe he can just score the soundtrack.

“Natasha” will be portrayed by Dame Edith Evans.

No, scratch that.

I have just received an injunction from my daughter’s lawyer.  She has formally denied any knowledge of ever having met me, so now her part will be played by Jack Black- recast as the wacky neighbor.

We’re set. I can’t wait to start shooting.  Locations in Winnetka, Aspen, Florence, and Newport have already been scouted.  Book the talk shows.  Find me a colorist.  This gray has got to go.  I need to ask Rachel Zoe to pick out a gown for the Oscar red carpet…

Hold up.  Just got a call from my agent, Ari Gold.  The script’s in turnaround.

Hollywood can be one tough town.  I know that from Sunset Boulevard.

Quick.  Someone text Joe Eszterhas and tell him we have a one o’clock lunch today at the Ivy.  I know he’s busy but he’ll be there, I promise.

I’ve already called Christopher.