Beyond any caricature on “Entourage”

The interviews continue. Everyone I've spoken with has been great—really generous with their answers, thoughtful and offering interesting opinions.

But there's always one. And today I got that one… and it was especially disheartening.

See, the people I've chosen to interview, the writers, directors, actors, producers, managers – have all been people I felt would lend a good voice to the story. It hasn't been a random selection.

At the same time, I've been going after people that I've wanted to talk to for some time, anyway. From past experience, I've learned that speaking with people in an "interview setting", especially for a well-regarded magazine, is a really great way to develop relationships and friendships; some of which might be valuable down the line with a project, perhaps. I myself have become fast friends with some of the journalists that have interviewed me in the past.

Anyway, today was the day to interview a producer for whom I've had really, really high hopes. This is a guy that I've wanted to get my project to for a long time. Of all the interviews, he was, for me and my ulterior motives, the whale. Foremost though, I felt he could lend some interesting insights from the pinnacle of the producing world. I had just finished doing a great interview with a New York director and now, with great anticipation and heart beating slightly faster than usual, I called Mr. A List Hollywood Producer.

The conversation, if I could call it that, was the most disagreeable conversation I've had with anyone in Hollywood. In fact, it was the most disagreeable conversation I've had in any professional setting. EVER!

As far as I could see, there was no reason for it either. These were not prickly or accusatory questions; they were questions simply asking an opinion of something. They were the same questions I've been asking everyone else; the same questions that have been eliciting interesting and spirited answers.

This guy was a PRICK! (Excuse the word). After 25 minutes, I concluded the "interview" (torture session would be more accurate) and hung up the phone.

I just sat there for about ten minutes, stunned. This was the guy for whom I had been holding out all this hope? Was it me? Am I an idiot asking bad questions? Shell-shocked, I googled his name and a couple choice words for "not nice" and found no shortage of stories about him and the kind of 'human being' he is. A slight relief, though it didn't lessen the deep disappointment any.

Minutes later, still regaining my composure, I spoke with a manager for one of the largest and most important management firms in entertainment. I told him briefly about what had happened and he laughed. He confirmed that the guy was a legendary, um, person -- and was happy never to have had to deal with him.

Still, it was a hugely disillusioning because there is no way in hell I would want to work with this guy. The one incredibly brief answer he did give removed any drop of joy from the filmmaking process whatsoever. Life is too short to subject oneself to that misery. I'd rather eat glass.

So, scrape, scrape, scrape… I continue to dig at the wall.