UCLArts and Healing

SELF-HELP EXERCISE #1

By James Shelley

As a young writer on a TV show in the 1980s, I encountered a “monster” boss who enjoyed flaunting his power by torturing his staff writers. My fear turned into self-loathing, and I quit the show and eventually left the entertainment business as a result of his taunting.

In this exercise suggested by Dr. Rachel Ballon, written almost 25 years later, I confront the monster and overcome my fear of failure. It has turned around my career - I am now pursuing a career in film and TV, which I hope to resume after the strike.

Bring on the monsters!!!

INT. STORY EDITOR’S OFFICE - 1983 MORNING

ARTHUR SCHMENDRICK, 60-something, bald with thin ring of hair left and even thinner pencil moustache, squints at a script from a small pile on his army-issue desk.

Office walls are cheap faux wood panels. An Elvis Presley movie poster for CLAMROAST looms over the office.

I sit down in a stiff chair opposite Arthur. He picks up a typewritten script.

ME
What do you think?

ARTHUR
(BEAT - then)
Jim. We hire young writers like yourself every once and awhile.

ME
I really appreciate the opp…

ARTHUR
We keep them around for six months or so. But you should not consider this permanent employment.

ME
(stunned - Oh, shit!)

ARTHUR
Rarely work out.

ME
Er, my script - ?

ARTHUR
It’s clear that you have a long way to go. But in this business there are just too many qualified candidates -

Arthur runs his fingers over his bald pate, strokes his 40s pencil moustache.

ME
But I really -

ARTHUR
(hand raised, ala salute)
So do a lot of young film school guys like you.

ME
(dazed)
I worked all night.

ARTHUR
Jim, to keep you around wouldn’t be fair to seasoned writers like Larry.

ME
Larry…

ARTHUR
Met him at Temple. Scripts are gold. Now we keep him busy with freelance.

ME
How do I get to -

ARTHUR
YOU aren’t Larry. You have to starve, suffer. Not just count on your college degree.

ME
You know, Arthur -

ARTHUR
YOU know what Elvis told me on the first day of shooting CLAMROAST?

ME
(Elvis accent)
“Momma, where be my Darvon”?

ARTHUR
“There’s no room in this business for amateurs.”

ME
I won’t let you intimidate me.

ARTHUR
The bottom line, Jim. We only keep an A-Team here.

ME
Arthur you’re right. I’m new. I didn’t direct Elvis films like you. I’m not a pro.

ARTHUR
That’s right.

ME
But I’m not a scrawny, alcoholic, bald, old Jew whose only claim to fame is directing a hillbilly truck driver.

ARTHUR
You have -

ME
(cont.)
And whose main skill seems to be torturing bright, young talent instead of helping them.

ARTHUR
(cont.)
- no respect for -

ME
For who - Larry?

ARTHUR
You couldn’t touch -

ME
Isn’t he the guy whose desk I took over?

ARTHUR
Er…

ME
The one with the empty bottles of Jack and the spliffs in the bottom drawer?

Now it is Arthur who is silent.

After long, silent stares, I stride out of the room.

FREEZE FRAME