Original Article: http://dartreview.com/archives/2005/08/26/barretts_mixology.php
Friday, August 26, 2005
Pimm's Cup
1 1/2 oz. Pimm's No. 1
Lemonade
Cucumber Slice
Pour Pimm's over ice into a highball glass. Fill with lemonade and garnish with a slice of cucumber.
My decade in L.A., you know, the lousy one, when I was a screenwriter, had few experiences you could label "peak." I shared my sorry apartment with a struggling novelist named Dieter who as far as I could tell, had never written a novel. Down the hall lived Claudette, the former vaudeville star, and she'd periodically visit to deliver panegyrics about the golden age of show-biz. Then she'd show me her act, which was terrible. The town was full of socialists who'd have screamed if I had so much as brushed up against their Rolls-Royces. My first script, which I brought with me from St. Louis, was an elaborate allegory commenting thoughtfully on our Western civilization. As I noted in my cover letter, I envisioned Cillian Murphy in the starring role, as Friedrich Nietzsche. Joseph Fiennes, I thought, could pull of pretty well the role of 'Tom,' who represented the rationalism inherent in Enlightenment values, but I kept that one under my hat. But somehow the producers weren't buying. Just ten years later, I landed what I considered a dream job: cleaning up the script for the fifth movie in the Deuce Bigalow franchise. I couldn't rely on the comic genius of Rob Schneider, as had the original (Rob had ditched the series after number three, leaving the gig to funnyman Jude Law) but it was coming along. And I knew this was just a first step. Still, after one meeting with those thieving, corpulent producers, I started to think I might just head east. But, then! Who should appear in the hallway, right next to me, but legendary screenwriter and Hollywood fixture Rory Vanderbilt. I remarked to him how frustrated I was with the business, and he nodded knowingly. We headed to the bar across the street, and he said to me, "Kid, listen. This is show business. This ain't no mom-and-pop hardware store. We're selling dreams here, not winches. Glitz, glamour, the American dream. It's what it's all about. She's a fickle mistress, the movies, but she respects persistence. Talk to her. Get to know her. She doesn't waltz, she rumbas. Gin, not vermouth. She's a game girl, get happy, know what I'm saying? Lights, camera, action." He made no sense, but he was buying, so I couldn't complain. He continued for another half hour, and I leeched some excellent cocktails off of the old windbag, including this one. Afterward, I thanked him for his advice, and then headed east anyway.