Matt Evans' Xplosive True Life Xperiences

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2006-10-01T09:41:00.000-07:00

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A New Soap (part one)

2006-07-04T18:34:00.000-07:00

Natalie Portman. The best thing to come out of Israel since unleavened bread. Of course, that wouldn't have been the case if the studio execs had been more receptive to a certain screenplay I pitched a couple years back: Israeli Ninja. Think American Ninja with some added Middle Eastern spice. Explosive stuff. Unfortunately, the studios didn't bite. One of the harshest opponents of the script - a guy at Paramount - claimed that it displayed

..a complete lack of understanding of Jewish culture, of the political climate in the Middle East, and of reality in general.

That said, everyone was hot for the scene where the Israeli Ninja guns the propellers on a stolen nuclear sub, drives it out over a 200 foot waterfall, and crashes straight through the Saudi Samurai's gold-plated attack yacht.

Since that scene was such a hit, I embarked on one of the few mistakes of my career. I figure, give these guys what they want... I ended up with the script for White Water Submariners. Think Fast and the Furious crossed with The River Wild crossed with Crimson Tide. Sounds good, I'll admit, but it just didn't gel together.

So anyway, I get a call from Natalie Portman - the most recent of many - asking to see me. Ordinarily, I wouldn't say no to a lady like Nat, but I've been real busy recently... the Miyazaki thing, Tommy Reid's theft of Seven Ten Split... Maybe you're thinking,

Come on Matt! I don't care if Tommy Reid stole your goddamn kidneys, you make time for Nat Portman!

Well... yeah... to be honest, I was just waiting for her hair to grow back before seeing her. Damn Wakowskis. Just cos they pulled The Matrix out of the hat they get to take a hair clipper to Natalie Portman!? You ask me they haven't done a single thing right since Assassins - Most explosive shootout in a taxi ever.

I've seen a couple pictures of Nat recently, and I figure she's back. So this time, I agree to go see her. Malamar drives me down to the restaurant - As well as being my PA, Malamar doubles as a chauffeur and triples as a bodyguard... (I haven't seen him fight yet, but... you know... he's from one of those martial arts countries). I figure he's used to driving one of those green motorized bicycles like Rodge Moore cruises around in in Octopussy, so I'm real impressed with how he handles the Die Hard Ambulance.

Have you seen Octopussy Malamar?

He answers me. I'm starting to make out one or two words. Not sure what the clicks mean though. When he's done I go on,

Interesting fact: Maud Adams was the only actress ever to play two different Bond girls. She was Andrea Anders in The Man with the Golden Gun and nine years later she returned as Octopussy... I guess you could say Roger wanted a little more.

He looks at me. Nods. Turns back to the road. Sometimes I get the feeling Mal doesn't pick up on my subtle wit. When we arrive at the restaurant, I see Nat standing outside impatiently - when you're about to meet Matt Evans for the first time you can get a little restless. I step out to introduce myself.

Bang! Matt Evans, at your service.

Thanks for meeting me Matt.

No problem babe. So, we heading inside?

She turns around. She looks nervous, reluctant to go in. I'm inside her head at this point (it's a gift) - The girl finally gets to meet Matt Evans, she wants him all to herself - After a jittery moment, she speaks.

Matt. We can't go inside... I need to talk to you.

She's real serious.

I need you to get a message to-

She's interrupted. A man walking out of the restaurant just called her name. I recognize him as Rick McCallum, producer of the Star Wars pictures. Lucas' right hand man. Word is, George doesn't make a single decision without first having Rick tell him it's a good idea.

Natalie!

he calls out,

What a coincidence, seeing you here!

She turns to see him. There's a strange moment as they greet each other... She introduces me to Rick and I shake his hand.

Ricky! Great to meet you. Listen, I gotta ask: Is it true Michael Caine is your stepfather?

What? No... You're thinking of Michael York.

Michael York? Who's he?

He played D'Artagnan in The Three Musketeers.

No way!

Yeah, he's a really great guy... Matt Evans. That name seems- are you the guy that ~~killed Hayao Miyazaki at the Oscars~~?

Clearly Ricky's a little confused... but I have been getting this a lot recently. I guess ~~he really did look dead after he fell~~. I try to explain what really happened, meanwhile Natalie, looking around frantically, moves towards the Die Hard Ambulance. She's looking up at Mal.

And this is... uh Matt?

Oh! Yeah, that's Malamar. Best PA in LA. Hey Malamar, you know Nat right? This is Rick McCallum - he's the son of that guy in Scent of a Woman! Remember? The Bairdman?

My Pacino impression sucks - I only ever do it so that Mal will do his. You should hear him do his Devil's Advocate bit - He's an absentee landlord! Worship that? Never! Sometimes he jumbles the words around a little, keep you on your toes, but the voice is perfect!

Unfortunately for everyone present, he doesn't take the bait. Malamar's about to say hi when Natalie stumbles and falls towards him. With a promising display of cat-like reflexes, Malamar catches her. Rick rushes over to help her.

Woh Natalie! You ok there?

Yeah Rick. Thanks. I'm fine.

The next few moments are hectic. A couple of Rick's assistants show up, there's a rush of activity around Natalie, and before I know what's what they're all gone. Natalie with them. I'm left standing there with Malamar. We exchange a confused look.

Well, there it is Mal.... Let's roll.

We hop into the Die Hard Ambulance and are back at my place before I have time to finish explaining to Malamar how Timothy Dalton was the perfect buffer between the Moore and Brosnan Bond dynasties.

I get back to my PC and continue writing the screenplay for No Rule to Make Target - the thriller I'm currently developing for Mickey Keaton. During the Oscar's Mickey and myself were in a tight spot... for legal reasons I can't go into the details, but I promised him that if we got out of it alive I'd write a movie with a starring role for him. Mickey will play an army sniper - John Target - who is betrayed by his own commanding officer. To get revenge he has to turn on his old unit - men he trained - and snipe his way back to the CO: General Xavier Zantos. Explosive stuff.

Yo Malamar!

I call out,

What's the best place in the jungle to take up a sniping position? Like up a tree, or on top of a hill or what?... Malamar?

Usually Malamar's very helpful with this sort of thing, so I'm surprised when he doesn't answer. I get up and find him in the next room studying something in the palm of his hand.

What you got their Mal? Looks like a memory stick.

He looks up at me.

Want me to check it out?

I ask. He nods. I take it and we head back in to the PC. A moment later I'm trying to load up a video stored on the memory stick.

Something's wrong with this file Mal. Where'd you get this?.. Hold up, here we go!

A video pops up on screen. To start out it's all staticky, can't make out a thing. Then... Natalie Portman shows up. She's speaking into the camera, the footage looping over and over. I turn up the volume (I usually keep it down - Jake Busey got a hold of my computer and setup a goddamn Rosie Perez sound scheme. Dunno how the hell he managed it, but I can't get rid of the damn thing). We hear Natalie,

...Help me Mr. Bruckheimer, you're my only hope... ...Help me Mr. Bruckheimer, you're my only hope...

I close the program.

YOO SO STOOPID BILLEEEEE!!!

Turn the volume down. Malamar seems as confused as me, but I have to ask him,

Did Natalie give you this Mal?

He doesn't know. Says he just found it in the Die Hard Ambulance when we got back.

Bruckheimer... I wonder if she means Jerry Bruckheimer - the greatest movie producer who has ever lived. The man behind Con Air, Armageddon, The Rock, Flashdance, The Bad Boys Duology, National Treasure, BHD, Kangaroo Jack, Pirates of the Caribbean, Coyote Ugly, Gone in 60 Seconds and let's not forget two of TC's finest movies: Top Gun and DoT... The list goes on Malamar.

Malamar blinks. I stop and think for a moment. Natalie said she wanted me to get a message to someone. She must want me to contact Jerry Bruckheimer. Was Ricky McCallum trying to stop her?... It didn't make any sense, but there was only one thing to do.

Malamar. Start up the Die Hard Ambulance. We're going to see Jerry Bruckheimer.

Later that day we arrive at Jerry's place... Let's put this in context. This is Jerry Bruckheimer. The Master. I've never met him before (although when I first arrived in L.A. I may have had a paranormal encounter with his late collaborator Don Simpson). This was a big deal for me... but apparently I wasn't the only person looking for Jerry.

As we turn the corner and Jerry's mansion comes into view, I see dozens of people lumbering around outside the gates.

Stop the car Malamar!

He parks at the side of the road and we step out. Keeping our distance, I study the guys outside Jerry's. They're roaming around like zombies... each of them holding a collection of papers in their hands. One of them's making a lame effort to scale the electric gate.

Screenwriters,

I explain to Malamar.

They must be here to pitch ideas to Jerry. Dammit! How're we gonna get inside?

Then I see it - a security camera angled down towards the huddle of screenwriters. There was a slim chance Jerry would see me if I went over. With Malamar in tow I walk slowly into their midst.

Don't make eye contact Malamar... they'll take it as a sign to pitch.

They groan and mumble phrases to no one in particular as we pass through. We're careful not to brush against them. They don't seem to notice us as we walk by.

...rrmmm... explosive... sequel... Bad Santa meets The Bourne Identity... remake... RRRrrrmm... Michael Douglas...

A couple times I have to stop, to let one of them trudge by in front of me. From the odors wafting around I get the impression some of them have been here for days... possibly living off cabbage and baked beans... Finally, I'm right in the center of the camera's view. I look straight up at it. Malamar stands close, clearly uneasy in these surroundings.

Mr. Bruckheimer!

I begin. No one takes any notice of me.

I have an important message for you. A message from Natalie Portman.

I continue, explaining the video message I received, when all of a sudden a face flashes before me. I make the mistake of glancing briefly towards it - the look only lasted an instant, but that's all it takes. The man before me begins:

Spiderman, Deep Impact, The Passion - what do they have in common?.. Absolutely nothing!.. Unless...

He goes on - but I'm shaken up, I look from side to side. Three more screenwriters approach and start pitching,

Two cops... One man... Everything you thought you knew about lumber... Michael Douglas in his most OUTRAGEOUS role yet!!...

I try to turn to Malamar, but they're massing all around me - I can't tell which way he is!

Malamar!

I call out. I hear him shout something - they've got him too. Desperately I try to block out the bombardment of movie ideas.

Until one day... an assassin, wait for it, hired to kill himself!!... Batman versus Ulysses 31...

Too... many... pitches...

A no holds barred expose of the lesbian archery circuit!... Blues Clues meets Daredevil... Michael Douglas...

I fall to the ground. They take it as a sign that they're wearing me down and move in closer. I start to black out...

Chuck Norris plays bulimic twins... Michael Douglas... A Kung Fu Kangaroo - A Kungaroo!!... Michael Douglas... Micha---

Suddenly I hear a loud scream. The screenwriters' heads jerk up, they scatter, running for cover across the street. I'm lying next to Malamar in the now empty street. I look up to see the electric gate's wide open, and standing between them - Jerry Bruckheimer. He walks over to Malamar, helps him up off the ground, and then offers me a hand. Once I'm up, he speaks.

Jerry Bruckheimer. Explosive Hollywood producer.

Matt Evans, explosive writer/director/actor. Pleased to meet you Mr. Bruckheim-

Please, Matt. Call me Jerry.... or The Bruck Totale... or Maverick.

I decide to stick with Jerry.

Thanks Jerry. Did you get my message?

Yes Matt, but we should get inside before we talk it over. The screenwriters are easily startled, but they'll soon be back, and in greater numbers.

Inside, I tell Jerry everything that's happened so far. He listens with interest, stroking his scruffy ginger beard. Finally he speaks,

May I see the memory stick?

Sure, but like I said, there's something wrong with it. I couldn't watch the whole video.

I'll see what I can do about that.

He pulls a small UV light pen out of his pocket, presses play on a stereo, and begins examining the memory stick under the weird blue light. A familiar track by The Who kicks in. Jerry sings along at the top of his lungs:

WHOOOOO ARE YOU? WHO WHO, WHO WHOOO

He flicks his head up in time with the "whos" to look at me, then flicks it back to examine the hardware. Moving over to a desk, he starts looking through a magnifying glass.

YEAH I REALLY WANNA KNOWWWWW!, OH, WHO THE F*** ARE YOU!??

Some people say you should never meet your heroes.... those people have obviously never watched Jerry Bruckheimer getting all CSI with his UV light pen to the beats of The Who. The song comes to an end.

Almost got it,

he says. After a few quick adjustments, he hooks it up to his computer and rolls the video. Natalie appears on screen again - looking nervous, rushed.

Mr Bruckheimer. I hope this message reaches you. I couldn't contact you directly for I am constantly being watched. Matt was the obvious person for me to go to - he has such little influence in Hollywood that it would arouse no suspicion, and yet, if what I've heard about him is to be believed, he is persistent enough to have found you.

I'm a little confused by the comment. I guess Nat isn't too hot when it comes to phrasing compliments.

For years you've made hugely successful blockbuster movies, and more recently, have produced several hit television series. This is a path George Lucas is hoping to follow. He's now working on a Star Wars TV show... A little while ago, George took me aside, excited by this new project, and showed me some of the story ideas for the first season. Mr Bruckheimer, it's... it's awful. It's like a bad soap opera. It has enough flaws, enough inconsistencies, to destroy the entire Star Wars franchise - everything that George has accomplished up until now will be for naught. What's worse, is that he's been getting advice on the show's development from... Robert Evans.

Jerry stirs at the mention of the name.

I don't know what else to do Mr. Bruckheimer. If this series goes ahead... I can't even think... This is our most desperate hour. Help me Mr. Bruckheimer, you're my only hope.

The video cuts out and, for a moment, we sit in silence. Jerry is thinking deeply. I have to ask him about the name I heard mentioned.

This Robert Evans. You know him?

He nods,

Yes. He was once a great producer, like me. He made some classic pictures: Rosemary's Baby, Chinatown, The Godfather... He knew the movie business inside out. He was truly gifted in his knowledge of the Formula, but he was seduced by it's power, and was transformed into a shadow of himself.

The Formula?

Well, the Formula is what gives a filmmaker his power. A collection of rules for storyline, stock characters and situations. The Formula has grown and been perfected over several decades, eliminating all need for originality in the movie industry. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds Hollywood together.

I listen intently, eager to learn from one of the master's of modern cinema - But we didn't have time to sit around talking about movie making. We knew we had to do something, and decided we should start by finding Natalie. We had to get her away from Lucas. It didn't take long to find out that she was set to appear at a science fiction convention in Las Vegas that weekend. It didn't sound like somethng Nat would have volunteered to do - we could only assume the worst.

So we need to go to Vegas, huh? Well we can drive there in the Die Hard Ambulance.

Jerry looks at me.

The what?

I pause. Shocked, I exchange a look with Malamar, who seems equally taken aback.

You've never heard of the Die Hard Ambulance?

Should I have?

It's the van that made the Sepulveda Run in under 22 miles!

Jerry thinks about that for a second.

Made it in under... a distance? That doesn't make any sense.

You'll understand once you see her. Come on.

After sneaking past the screenwriters, still regrouping outside, we make it to the DHA and are on our way. A couple hours into the journey, Jerry leaves Malamar at the wheel to come and talk to me in the back. He finds me sitting with a notepad, furiously scribbling then scratching out words.

What are you working on?

Huh?.. Oh, it's a movie. A thriller about a sniper betrayed by his own people, who sets out to get revenge. Mickey Keaton wants a piece of the action.

Mickey Keaton? Is it a regular-voice role or a Beetlejuice one?

Mickey and I had already discussed this. There was no doubt about it:

Beetlejuice. No doubt. Mickey hasn't had a chance to take the old Beetlejuice voice out for a turn since clone number one in Multiplicity. He hates that so few roles call for it, but John Target couldn't work any other way.

Jerry nods. He glances down at the dialog I've been writing. The page is covered with scribbles.

You're having trouble with a scene?

Yeah...

Run it by me.

I set the scene up for Jerry. After General Xavier Zantos frames John Target for killing the Thai royal family, our hero has to go into hiding and disappears into the jungle. Zantos sends a crack unit of snipers (trained by Target) out to get him, but he picks them off one by one - from up a tree or on top of a hill or something - eventually Target works his way back to the army base - Jerry interrupts.

-to Zantos' compound. Army base is no good.

His compound?

Yes. An estate. A Mansion. Big gardens with statues, armed guards. Inside, lots of expensive art work and maybe even an aquarium with Siamese fighting fish.

Really? Do Generals live in places like that?

Villains do Matt. Villains do.

I nod and make a note of it... So Target gets back to Zantos' compound and snipes his way through the security. Then, there's the final confrontation between Target and his old mentor, Xavier Zantos.

Here's the problem. This is the key scene in the whole picture... Well, not including the one where Target is standing at the edge of a cliff and a herd of water buffalo are stampeding towards him - He has no choice but to dig in and start sniping... Anyway, I want the dialog to be tight. I want the back-and-forth between these two guys to be explosive. You know? I'm trying to think-

Stop Matt. Don't think... Use the Formula.

He lets the words hang... but I'm not sure what he means.

Really? I mean, what I'm looking for is something clever for Target to say to-

Use the Formula Matt. Creativity can be your undoing, trust in what's worked before.

I think about his words.

You mean.... instead of coming up with something smart for them to say.... I could just have them repeat lines from earlier in the movie?

Exactly. Perhaps an earlier scene where Zantos is training Target. Zantos tells him something - says he should always remember it - then later, Target repeats it, and kills him. It's the power of the Formula Matt - the audience will often mistake repetition for significance, or confuse the use of memory with the use of intelligence.

I... I think I understand.

Jerry smiles. Just then we hear a series of alarmed noises from the front of the van - it's Malamar. We move up and join him. There, in the distance, is Las Vegas. Jerry watches the horizon thoughtfully, speaking almost to himself,

Las Vegas, Nevada... You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.

I nod,

I know. What a town!

Yeah, I try to make it up at least once a month. You been to that new place off the strip? Every blackjack table is extra large, reinforced, and has two guys fighting UFC style in the middle of it. It's a blast! They have to change decks every three, four hands. A couple MIT guys had a system worked out from the blood splatter on the cards.

Haven't seen it, no. Last time I came out, with Gary Busey, he brought me to this little place - you know Gary says the big casino's, that's New Vegas. This place, this is Old Vegas - anyway, it's kinda small, not really furnished or anything. The whole place... full of Koreans laying down big bucks on mantis fights. You know, these things are tiny, but they got 50 inch plasma TVs so you can watch em trying to crush each other's heads. In the back, I think they have dogs going at it, but you gotta be a member for that.

Man, I know the place. All too well. Blew half the budget of the second season of CSI on a seven inch mantis called 보복 지구 악마. I mean, seven inches! - you gotta figure a bug that size is a lock. Twenty seconds in, some little upstart competitor had chewed off his hind legs. I have to come to the set the next day and tell everyone we're still using the rubber corpses from last year - I mean, some of these bad boys stink like the real thing at this stage.... Hey! You ever been stripper-paintballing?

This went on for some time. A lot of reminiscing about the good times in Vegas... But this time we weren't here for fun. We were here on a mission, and despite Jerry's upbeat mood I couldn't help but think one thing:

I have a very bad feeling about this.

Risky Business

2006-06-03T14:27:00.000-07:00

It's been too long people, but Matt Evans has had trouble. Legal trouble. I've had to hire the best lawyer money can buy: Cassius Montclare DuBois. You probably heard about him after Don Johnson was caught transporting 8 billion dollars worth of bonds across the Swiss-German border. Don could have gone down for that one, but CMduB stepped in and straightened the whole thing out - Of course there was a perfectly good explanation for Don's actions which I wont bore you with by repeating once again.

So what does Matt Evans need with a lawyer of Cassius' calibre? Well... I can't tell you. Not about all of it anyway. It's best if I just say there was an incident at this year's Oscars, involving myself and Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki. Maybe I can go into more details once this whole thing's been cleared up.

But that's not the end of my woes: Tara Reid's dumbass brother Tommy has stolen my idea. That's right - Seven Ten Split is currently in production but Matty ain't on board. The way Tommy tells it his picture has nothing to do with mine. No time-travelling dinosaurs/gay cowboys. No secret CIA-KGB anti-time travelling dinosaur/gay cowboy alliance. No climatic hot air balloon sniper versus sniper shootout. But you gotta read between the lines people... It's all in there one way or another. Tommy couldn't handle the explosiveness of the original script so he dressed it up as some goddamn buddy comedy and has been trying to pass it off as his own. If the final cut doesn't have "Matt Evans and a freakin' Xerox machine" creditted as the writing team there'll be hell to pay.

So I've been busy. A lot of meetings, legal mumbo jumbo. I've even had to hire a personal assistant. His name's Malamar. He's been a life saver. Finally I can have letters typed as fast as I talk - a step closer to the dream of having things typed as fast as I think. Of course, Malamar doesn't speak a word of english, and I don't speak... his language... but we've been doing everything phonetically and it seems to be working fine.

Most days Cassius, myself and Malamar have been dealing with Tommy's legal team, producers and so on. I've also been able to fit in some time teaching Malamar about the most important aspects of our culture. Just the basics so that we have a common ground we can communicate on. He's also been telling me stories about... his country. My favorite one seems to be about a group of guys trying to force a large animal, maybe a rhino, off a cliff. I'm considering adapting it into a picture with him.

So finally I find a free moment to sit down and write part two of the 78th Annual Academy Awards - with some very specific directions from Cassius about what I can't talk about (basically, all of the most explosive stuff!). I was trying to come up with the best way to explain how the fight started between Russell Crowe and Larry David when Malamar rushes in. He gestures that there's someone here to see me.

Who is it Malamar?

Another series of gestures. We're still trying to work out a clear system but I recognised the first sign as being the one for Mortal Kombat. We had to establish that pretty early on. I've been getting a lot of prank calls recently from Robin Shou. Guy thinks he's a riot with this 'Is your refrigerator running?' bit. It's an old gag Robin!

Someone here from Mortal Kombat? Mortal Kombat, Mortal Kombat: Annihilation, or the short-lived yet underated TV series Mortal Kombat: Conquest?

Malamar replies.

Christopher Lambert and Linden Ashby!?.. what could they want?

Of course, Malamar had said Raiden and Johnny Cage, but I'm trying to teach him not to refer to actors by their character's names. I grab my jacket and head out to meet them.

Chris, Linden. What's up?

They're waiting next to a car outside. Chris answers:

I've been alive for four and a half centuries, and I cannot die.

A pause. I turn to Linden.

Hey Matt. We're on our way over to Chris Walken's for a game of Risk.

What's Risk?

You're kidding me, right?... You've never played?

Linden turns to Chris Lambert,

What the hell Chris? You said we could count on him!

One of you three with determine the outcome of the tournament. The fate of billions depends upon you. Heh, heh, heh!

I look at Linden, mouth the word "three?". He shakes his head - "forget about it." I'm also confused that Lambert seemed to have vouched for me somehow... I've never met the guy before. I guess the Evans name preceded me. Linden settles down.

Ok Matt. I'll explain the rules along the way,

Linden says as he ushers me into the passenger seat. Lambert gets in the back. So Linden teaches me Risk, with Chris occassionally interrupting with seemingly irrelevant quotes from his movies. Risk is a board game. Some would call it the classic game of world domination. Six players, each controlling an army, trying to complete their secret mission before the others.

The game was a regular thing with these guys. This time Christopher Walken was hosting. Lambert, Linden and myself would play. Charles Dance was all set to play, but had to cancel at the last minute. I'd be taking his place. The other players were Bobby De Niro, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck.

That's seven players.

I say,

Yeah but Matt and Ben play as a team.

As a team?

Yeah... although if you ask me Matt does all the work.

Lambert leans in between our seats and adds,

Half of me is the Earl of Greystoke... the other half is wild!

He stares at me. I nod a little and finally he sinks back again. Linden doesn't comment. After a little while longer we arrive at Walken's place. On the way up the drive Linden turns to me. Looks me right in the eye:

This above all else: No matter what. Don't. Trust. Walken.

I smile. Figure he's just kidding. He isn't.

Walken'll make you think he's serving you up a Christmas goose, then chew up your ass and spit you out like yesterday's falafel.

Walken greets us at the door. I make a mental note to ask Malamar what falafel is when I see him later.

Christoph, Linden it's good to see you.

He turns to me and puts out a hand, blocking my approach.

You... I don't know you.

He keeps his hand out, turns to the other two.

Walken: Where's Dance?

Lambert: Good question... Neh, heh, heh.

Linden: He couldn't make it.

Walken shakes his head.

That's too bad. Too bad.

He nods for awhile, thinking it over. Finally he turns to me.

What's your name kid?

Matt Evans, explo-

We've already got a Matt in here. I'll call you Evans.

Chris shows us in. We head into a room with a large table. The Risk board is laid out and Bobby De Niro is sorting the pieces into separate colors. He looks up,

Chrissake Chris, could you try putting them back in the box properly next time?

Sort the goddamn pieces Bobby,

Walken replies. I walk around the room doing a meet and greet. Damon and Affleck are psyching each other up. Reverting to Boston-speak as the juices get flowing. Bobby doesn't have much time to talk. He's complaining about the lack of green cannon. It take's Damon a moment, but then he remembers where he knows me from:

Matt Evans?.. Matt Evans! You're the guy that ~~killed Miyazaki at the Oscars~~!

No, I didn't ~~kill Miyazaki~~.

Sure you did. I was in the audience! I saw ~~you two fighting~~. There's no way he could've ~~survived that fall~~.

Walken's been listening and cuts in:

Walken: I wouldn't be so sure Matt.

Damon: Are you kidding me? You saw him ~~fall from the rafters~~, right?

Walken: Chinamen, Matty... they don't die so easy.

De Niro looks up from his pile of troops to nod his confirmation.

Walken: Trust me... I've seen some things... Things'd make ya head spin.

Damon: ...Yeah, well Miyazaki was Japanese. I dunno how that fits into your little picture.

Walken: China... Japan... Laos... It's all the Orient. A land where... mystery reigns. There's no logic there. It's every man for himself.

Damon: Maybe it'd be less f***in' mysterious if you learned to tell between the different countries.

Walken looks at Damon for a moment.

Walken: Maybe you'd shut the hell up if you went and got me a beer from the refrigerator.

It's a tense moment. Everyone pauses... waiting to see what will happen... The two of them stare at each other. Complete silence. Suddenly Lambert bursts out,

A high-tech hell! Built to hold anything... except an innocent man.

With that he leaves the room. The tension lessened a little, Damon finally gives in:

Ben. Go get Chris a beer.

With Lambert out of the room I finally get to ask Linden,

Hey man, what's up with Lambert? Why does he talk like that?

Like what?

Like that.

Linden looks at me confused for awhile. Then it hits him,

Oh! You mean why does he speak in lines from his movies? Christoph doesn't speak English.

I'm confused.

What? I just heard him-

No, no. You heard him repeat a line from one of his movies. He had to memorize all this stuff for filming.

So he doesn't speak English!?

Linden nods, just as Christoph returns through the door. We watch him walk by. Linden speaks first, quietly:

To tell you the truth, I'm not even sure if he speaks French.

...But, sometimes what he's saying almost seems related to what's going on. How does he do that?

Linden shrugs. From across the room Christoph calls,

It's a kind of magic! Neh, heh, heh!

At this point I'm a little weirded out, so I'm glad when we finally sit down to play. The mission cards are dealt. I read mine: Conquer Africa and Asia. Africa and Asia. That seems reasonable. We each pick a color and start placing troops in our territories. Matt Damon pipes up:

Wo! What the f*** is this?

Walken: Excuse me?

Damon: What is this? This is chaos! We put one battalion in each territory, then take turns reinforcing, moving clockwise around the table.

Affleck looks at Damon, and then juts in:

Affleck: We take turns... around the table.

Walken: That's bulls***!

Damon: It's the goddamn rules Walken, are the rules bulls***?

I notice De Niro getting annoyed. Breathing audibly through his nostrils.

Walken: Yeah. This rule, this is a bulls*** rule.

Damon: What? So now you pick and choose which rules to play by? Where does that end? Let everyone have two troop movements, three? Where do you draw the line?

Affleck: Draw a line!

Damon: Shut up Ben!

Affleck: Don't tell me to shut up. I was in Daredevil. You shut up!

De Niro: EVERYBODY SHUT UP! We're gonna play this game. We're not gonna be here all night, so we're gonna do it Chris' way. Anybody who's got a problem with that, has to talk to me.

Chris nods. De Niro looks up. There's an understanding between these men that goes back years. They've got each other's backs. Affleck and Damon have nothing on these guys.

Walken: Thank you Bobby. I can always count on you to fight in my corner. True friendship... Loyalty... Blood... Truth...

He looks up at Affleck and Damon.

You jokers could learn a thing or two from this: Bobby and I go way back. Back when you two schmucks were still punk kids roaming the streets of Boston, we were tight back then. I know I can count on Bobby and he knows he can count on me.

Bobby nods. Watching the scene I can't help but glow with admiration for these two Hollywood legends. Walken and De Niro begin placing pieces out again, and very slowly, very quietly, Linden leans a little closer to me. I turn to him as he mouths the words:

Don't. Trust. Walken.

We start. Everyone plays conservatively at first. I quickly see how the Affleck-Damon team operates. Matt is in charge of tactical issues, troop deployment, reinforments, which territories to attack... Ben's main responsibility seems to be rolling the dice.

After a few turns around the board Christoph and Affleck-Damon are doing the best. Lambert has South America and is slowly pushing De Niro out of the North as well. Damon's holding Europe and a good chunk of Asia, but lousy rolling from Affleck keeps letting him down. Linden has Australia sown up. I'm holding onto Africa. Walken has... nothing really. A few pieces here and there, having no great effect on anything. I'm begin to wonder what Linden has against him.

So Matt,

Damon begins,

I hear you saw the rumble between Larry David and Russell Crowe at the Oscars.

I nod, and begin telling the story while De Niro finishes up deploying his reinforcements.

Larry and Russell get introduced. Larry offers a hand, to shake, but Russell doesn't accept. Just shakes his head and says,

I don't shake.

Larry smiles,

You don't shake?

No.

Never?

Never.

Huh... So what do you do?

The Gladiator star bends a little, lowering his head to Larry.

I bow.

He says.

You bow! I like that. A bower. Good for you.

There's a moment of silence. Russ eyes up Larry expectantly. Lar looks puzzled. Eventually Russell speaks again,

Well?

Well what?

You're not gonna bow?

Larry laughs.

Why should I bow?

Because I bowed to you. It'd be rude not to bow to me.

I offered you my hand to shake. You didn't shake. Isn't that rude?

That's different.

No it isn't. It's the same thing!

Russell grunts a laugh, but you can tell he's getting pissed.

You offered me a shake, but there was no shake. I completed a bow. The bow happened, the shake didn't.

You rejected the shake.

-and you accepted the bow!

I never accepted the bow! I hereby reject your bow!

I'm not finished the story but De Niro cuts in,

What the hell is this? How long does it go on for?

Damon: Let him finish Bobby. This is a good story.

De Niro ain't happy. He turns to Walken, who just shrugs.

Walken: Go ahead Evans. I wanna see how this baby plays out.

With Walken's support I go on... So Russell replies:

You can't reject it now. It's already done. You have to bow.

I have to bow?

Yeah.

Well I don't see how that's fair. I have to bow but you don't have to shake. I mean..

I don't shake.

Well I don't bow.

Crowe freaks out.

You don't bow!? How can you not bow?

You don't shake.

You can have good reasons for not shaking! Hygiene, sweaty palms...

Yeah, well I have a bad back. My chiropractor explicitally said no bowing. He said that as much as one bow would be risking all chance of a pain free lower back.

You can't bow?

Russell has calmed a little.

I can't bow.

Well, I guess if you can't bow... then it's ok.

Crowe nods a little, smiles and begins to turn away. Everyone around relaxes. At the last moment, almost inaudibally, Larry adds,

Either that or I just don't wanna bow.

Crowe spins and THUMP!, clocks Larry right in the face. He jumps after him and starts forcing him to bow over. Once Larry's doubled over he leans in and starts biting Russell's knee. Whether he knew it or not I dunno, but Russell's left kneecap is in awful shape - he smashed it up one time in a fight with that guy Zeuz from No Holds Barred. Crowe falls to the ground in agony and David starts working the face. Eventually he was pulled off him by Billy Crystal - since he lost the presenting gig at the Oscars they've had him working security.

De Niro cuts in again,

What the hell is No Holds Barred?

No Holds Barred?

I reply,

A 1989 picture starring Hulk Hogan.

Affleck: No Ring. No Ref. No Rules.

Me: Exactly.

De Niro's had enough. He attacks me in Irkutsk. At first I figure it was just to shut me up, but once he's cleared house he keeps going,

De Niro: Three from Irkutsk on Kamchatka.

Walken is in Kamchatka.

Walken: Bobby! What- hold up. What is this?

De Niro: I'm sorry Chris. I gotta do this. Kamchatka's the gateway to North America. I need it. Get ready to roll.

Walken: Get ready to roll? Bobby. I understand... that you're under pressure... in North America. Lambert's hurting you.

De Niro: He's killing me Chris!

Lambert: We are driven by the endless fight to survive in a game which knows no limits of time or place. We are the seeds of legend, but our true origin is unknown. We simply are.

Maybe it's not a good time, but I have to ask Lambert,

Your true origin is unknown? Hold up Lambert, I thought the Immortals were banished from the planet Zeist and then reincarnated on Earth.

Lambert looks at me gravely. He turns away to consider this. I realise I'm about to have one of the deepest mysteries of modern cinema unravelled by the man at it's very heart. He's still considering his answer. I wait. De Niro and Walken are still looking intensely at one another, but I'm not taking any notice of that now. Lambert opens his mouth to speak,

Lambert: Neh, heh, heh.

Walken goes on:

Walken: Listen to me Bobby... You're under pressure. I can see that. But these are the times, these troubling times, when friends need to come through for each other. Look around the board Bobby - the world. I've got nothing. No continents... no concentration of force... I'm spread out. But I have one thing Bobby, that I thought I could depend on. You. Can I depend on you Bobby? Can I?

Silence. A long silence. De Niro is deep in thought. Linden is leaning forward a little, as if he'll hear De Niro's response quicker that way. Damon is looking at Walken, shaking his head and mumbling quietly under his breath. Affleck is playing with two discarded troops, making quiet sound effects to himself.

De Niro: Ok Chris. For you.

Linden: CHRIST! WHAT THE F***!? Come on Bobby! You can't trust this guy!!

De Niro: Shut your goddamn mouth kid! You don't know nothing about this.

Linden: What do you mean I don't know nothing? He does this EVERY time!!.. God dammit!

Walken: I'm sorry for you Linden. Sorry that you've never learned what trust is. It's sad. It really is.

Linden slumps back in his chair. Kamchatka goes unchallenged, and Bobby finishes up his turn. I'm up. With Africa more or less sown up, it's time for me to move into Asia. The quickest way? - Through the Middle East. Through Walken.

I pick up the red dice.

Three from Egypt into the Middle East... Sorry Chris.

Walken looks up.

Linden: Good Matt. Do it. Don't listen to anything he says.

Walken: Evans... Matty... You're attacking me?

Linden: Roll the dice Matt. Roll the dice. Once you roll-

Walken: Hear me out Matty. What harm could it be?

Linden: Roll! Roll! God dammit Matt! Roll the goddamn dice!

I look between them, not knowing who to listen to. One of these guys is Linden Ashby. Johnny Cage. Tom Berenger's costar in Sniper 2. Detective Morrison in Wild Things 2. Dr. Brett "Coop" Cooper in Melrose Place.... not that I watch Melrose Place... you know, sometimes it's on after you know... uh.. Gun Cops. Yeah. Gun Cops. It's a little known show I watch. Very violent. Very intense. Lots of... guns.

And the other is Christopher Walken. What can I say about Chris Walken? The man's a living legend. This guy's made more movies than most people have seen. If sheer volume of work is a measure of how good an actor is, and I believe it is, then Chris Walken may just be the finest living actor alive today.

Me: I've gotta hear Chris out.

Linden: AAAAAAAAAH!!!

Walken: Thank you Matty. You're a good kid. I could see in your eye... both your eyes... when I met you today. I thought to myself... This guy... this Matt Evans... this guy... he's a good guy. I'm a good judge of character Matty... When I first met Woody Allen, way back, I thought... this is the kind of guy, who would marry his own adopted daughter. You know?... And look what happened.

Woody Allen?... I think to myself. Maybe some foreign director - I'll ask Malamar about him.

Walken: I wont ask much of you Matty. I just need a little time. Time to breath. Look at my forces. We're dwindling. You attack me in the Middle East... and I'll crumble. It could end me Matty. End me... Do you wanna end me Matty?

Linden: Yes!! End him. Do it!

Walken: Linden's trying to manipulate you Matty. I'm trying to help you.

Me: ...maybe.

Linden head drops flatly onto the table. Every piece of the board jumps up half an inch and lands again. He moans quietly.

Walken: I knew it! Bobby,

He turns to Bobby,

Walken: This Evans kid is a good guy... Tell you what Evans. You wanna get into Asia? I got no problem with that. A man gets to a point, in Risk or in life, he needs to go to Asia... Happened to me once upon time... It didn't end well Matty. Not for anyone.... But that's another story. Tell you what... you go through Europe, you pick up some territories along the way.... Build up some momentum.

Damon, the guy who's running Europe, tries to convince me not to go along with Chris' plan, but it's no use. Walken's really gotten through to me. I'm ready to roll. After taking Southern Europe and Ukraine I'm done. Walken's up.

He counts up his men and flips over some cards,

Walken: Twenty from the cards, two from territories, that's twenty two reinforcements.

As he begins counting out men Linden raises his head up slowly. He looks worried.

Walken: I'ma putt em all in Kamchatka.

De Niro: What?... What are you doing Chris?

Walken: It's like you said Bobby, it's the gateway to North America.

De Niro stares at him. Bobby's got a few troops in Asia, but the rest of his forces are all in North America. I'm not really sure what Chris' plan is.

Walken: First of all... I gotta tie up some loose ends in Asia. Three from Kamchatka into Irkutsk.

De Niro: Chris. That's me.

Walken: Yeah.

De Niro: We have a truce. I didn't attack you.

Walken: You didn't attack me... because I asked you not to... not because of any truce.

De Niro: Ok. Well, I'm asking you not to attack me. The way you asked me. Don't attack me Chris.

Walken rolls the dice. De Niro is silent. After a long pause he defends, and loses. Walken continues. Siberia. De Niro's finished in Asia. Then into North America. Territory after territory, Walken takes on De Niro. It all comes down to three of Walken's troops in Ontario against two of De Niro's in Quebec.

The loudest thing in the room is now De Niro breathing through his nostrils. He sits nodding to himself.

De Niro: It's a sad day. A sad motherf****** day.

Walken: You ready?

De Niro: A sad day...

Damon: Come on Bobby, let's just get it over with.

De Niro: Ok.... I'll defend with two.

Lambert: No-

Lambert reaches over and stops De Niro from rolling, points at Quebec - with only two troops remaining in it. Not enough to roll two dice.

Lambert: There can be only one.

Linden turns to me.

Linden: Jesus. It took him long enough to work that in.

Me: Yeah,

I smile. Linden looks at me.

Linden: Shut up.

Clearly he's a little annoyed that I didn't take his advice. Walken rolls. De Niro rolls... and loses. Again... and it's over. He's been wiped off the board in one turn. Walken flips over his mission card.

Walken: Destroy all blue troops... I win.

Damon: Crap.

Affleck: What?

Damon: It's over.

Affleck: Did we win?

Damon: No.

Affleck: Crap.

Walken stands up. Begins clearing the board.

Walken: Thank you all. It's been fun, I'm sure... I look forward to doing this again some time.

De Niro: A sad day...

After everything's cleared up and we say our goodbyes I head out with Lambert and Linden.

How about a ride home Linden?

Linden: It's a little out of my way. Come on Chris.

Linden heads down the driveway. Chris pauses a moment, then looks at me.

Lambert: The chessboard is the world... the rules of the game are what we call nature. The player on the other side is hidden from us but we know that his play is always fair, just, and patient. We also know that he never overlooks a mistake.

Wow Chris,

I say,

That's deep. What movie is that from?

He looks at me,

Lambert: That line's from Knight Moves. I played a chess grandmaster accused of a murder he didn't commit.

Wow!... Linden! He does speak English!

Linden calls back from beside his car:

Was it something about Knight Moves?

Yeah! Knight Moves...

Have you seen Knight Moves?

Uh... no.

Exactly. That's why he had to learn that phrase. No one's seen Knight Moves.

I turn to Chris. He smiles.

Lambert: Neh, heh, heh.

Finkelstein

2006-04-04T13:29:00.000-07:00

Matt... Evans.
Two words.
When separated, they're like any other words.
Put them together...
and it's a recipe for explosiveness!

I was all ready to post the second installment of my Academy Awards Adventure, when I had a shocking reminder of just how unable to cope with my explosiveness the general public is. In it's pure uneditted form "The 78th Annual Academy Awards (part two)" would hit most people like an adrenaline shot to the heart administered on a burning rollercoaster!

If you actually wanna know what that feels like you'd have to track down Kenny Grimley - one of a group of kids that was invited out to Neverland a couple years back. Jacko offers him a Hershey's Almond Joy just before they're all getting on a rollercoaster. Kenny's got a serious nut allergy, but doesn't wanna offend Jacko, so he takes a little. After all, what harm could it be?

A lot of harm Kenny!! The kid goes into anaphylactic shock coming out of the first valley. Jacko, sensing something's wrong, lifts up his own grab bar and leaps two carriages to check on Kenny - he lands just in time to grab on before the coaster enters a loop. Had his plastered fingers not gotten a grip at that instant Jacko would have spun off the coaster and been impaled on the roof of the nearby candy floss stand.

He recognises Kenny's symptons instantly and pulls out a large syringe and two viles of adrenaline - at this point I might question the truth of this story. Why would he have that stuff with him? I heard all this from Joe Pesci, who exagerrates at the best of times, but they worked on Moonwalker together so I'm inclined to believe it.

Anyway, Jacko loses his hold on one of the viles and it flies back into the wheels - the last carriage gets derailed and there are sparks raining down all over the place. A fire starts. Jacko only has one vile left and little Kenny's running out of time!

Don't you worry little Kenny, I'm gonna save you!

he says, stabbing Kenny in the heart with the syringe... which, like I said, is how you'd feel if you read my next post before I have time to water it down. For the record, Kenny pulled through and the kids in danger of being burned were picked up by Jacko and thrown from the moving coaster into Neverland Lake.

So what about this reminder of how people can't handle Raw Evans. It all begins with two words:

Snakes... Plane.
Two words.
When separated, they're like any other words.
Put them together...
and it's a recipe for explosiveness!

Putting these two words together was Dave Ellis' stroke of genius in his upcoming movie "Snakes on a Plane", starring Samuel L. Jackson. I guess the "on a" is there to dilute things a little. I don't think anyone's ready for a movie just called "Snakes Plane". Maybe one day...

So SOAP is gonna be big, and I'm excited about seeing it... Maybe I should let the emails tell the story. One thing beforehand. If you, like Finkelstein here, don't know who the Hoogle is then you should probably check out an old post of mine.

Message from Matt Evans; contact form on www.snakesonablog.com ; March 27th

Blogman,
How are you? I'm explosive writer/director/actor Matt Evans, you've probably heard of me.

So I was talking to the Hoogle awhile back (that's Pauly Reubens... maybe you know him as Pee Wee Herman), telling him how much I'm looking forward to the sure-fire blockbuster hit Snakes on a Plane.

"Sammy Jackson taking on a plane load of snakes!", I say, "I'm still reeling from seeing SLJ miss out on the chance to kick some shark ass in Deep Blue Sea. No one wants to see this picture more than me Hoogs!"

Then the Hoog drops the bombshell that there is someone out there more amped about Snakes on a Plane than me - you!

I follow a link to your blog and was blown away by your dedication to your cause! You remind me of a young Daniel Baldwin promoting the advantages of bagels over regular sandwichs a couple years back. No one thought he'd have any effect, but he damn near put Hamill Sandwichs (Mark Hamill's store in L.A.) out of business. Just goes to show you how the little guy (well... maybe not so little) CAN make a difference!

Good luck in your quest man.

Matt Evans
mattsplosion.blogspot.com

It wasn't long before I hear back from the guy:

Email from Brian Finkelstein to Matt Evans; 24th March

Uhm, thanks?

You certainly are explosive.

Brian

Guess he didn't have much to say for himself, but seven hours later he hits me back:

Email from Brian Finkelstein to Matt Evans; Later that day

And, if Paul Reubens really is a fan, I'd love to hear from him.

Brian

This is what the movie industry is all about: Networking. From my mail he saw that I knew the Hoog, Danny B, and Mark Hamill. He takes his pick of who he wants to hook up with - the Hoog. Can I blame him? Not really: If he knows anything about anything, he'll have heard Hamill's quit show business to go into catering. As for Danny... Get introduced to one Baldwin and the next thing you know Willy's droppin' by to keep steaks in your freezer, Stephen wants to borrow your jeans... it's a goddamn can of worms... That said, nothing but love for Adam.

So, a couple days later I get round to replying to Finkelstein:

Email from Matt Evans to Brian Finkelstein; 27th March

Hey Finkelstein,

I guess you haven't heard about Pauly's recent lifestyle choices. The fact that he's seen your site doesn't meet he's a fan... it just means your site is on the internet. As for hearing from him; the Hoog doesn't really interact with people in the traditional sense anymore. The only reason I was talking to him recently is that Mickey Keaton got him to join the crew we assembled to watch Denzel Washington's back atthe Oscars. How Mickey talked him into it I have no idea...

Tell you what, I'll pass on your interest to Hoogs, and maybe you'll hear from him. Don't count on it though.

Maybe it'd be more useful if I hooked you up with Terry Chen. He's in SOAP. Tez and me met back when he was filming The Chronicles of Riddick. Great guy. It was a real shame when Dave Twohy cut the scene with Vin and Tez fighting on top of the mountain on Crematoria. It was explosive stuff - ended with Vinny suplexing Tez onto a stalagmite - he gets impaled on it, then the sun comes up and fries his ass. Tezzie spent 6 hours in make-up getting the melted skin right. They cut the scene cos Vin said "This shit is too hot to handle" - his exact words.

I dunno. Maybe they'll put it in the sequel... in a flashback or something.

Catch you later Finks.

Matt Evans
mattsplosion.blogspot.com

Haven't heard from Finks since. So this is my point. Finks is a guy who wants to go see a big movie premiere. He wants to mingle with the rich and famous. Meet the men and women that make the entertainment world go round. In short, he wants into Matt Evans' world. I open a door, and he disappears faster than good lighting at a Hugo Weaving publicity photoshoot. Looks like he can't handle mixing with the likes of Terry Chen.

Finks has a petition online, trying to get New Line Cinema to invite him to the premiere of SOAP. For awhile I considered starting my own petition. The Don't Send Finkelstein to the Snakes on a Plane Premiere Petition. It might be for his own good. Can this guy handle what he's asking for!? Maybe it's too explosive for him.

Then I thought, no. Let him go. In a way, Finkelstein reminds me of a younger, less captivating version of myself. He's out there, struggling to make his way in this crazy mixed-up world, trying to see a picture called Snakes on a Plane. A picture about a man, fighting snakes. Snakes on a Plane. And what's wrong with that?

The 78th Annual Academy Awards (part one)

2006-03-11T05:21:00.000-08:00

So the Oscars are over. The whole thing went off without a hitch... or so it would seem to those who don't know what really went on during the show. If you've managed to remain in your seat during the explosive rollercoster ride that has been the past few weeks of Matt Evans' life, then you'll know that there's more to the Oscars than meets the eye.

A couple days before the ceremony I'm on my way to Mickey Keaton's place. I'm there to meet the crew that he's assembled. Mickey and I base jump once a month with Denzel Washington - and if you can't trust your fellow base jumpers to watch your back, who can you trust? You see, the Zelman was all lined up to present the award for Best Animated Feature when people started putting pressure on him. First they screw around with our parachutes, then a week later they cut the brake leads on Z's car. Luckily he was able to drive into a mall and use the shoppers to slow himself down. If Z didn't read out the right name on the night, he wouldn't live to talk about it. Problem was, with only a few days to go, he still didn't know who was behind the attacks.

Bottom line: Mickey and I had decided to get a crew together and keep an eye on things during the show. Whatever that involved. Mickey hadn't told me yet who he'd asked to help, but I was sure he'd have made some good calls.

If you've ever been to Mickey Keaton's house, you'll have seen it's a classy place. If Mickey trusts you enough, then you'll have seen the exact replica of the Bat Cave carved out of the bedrock below it. We're sitting down there, reviewing the information we have so far. The Best Animated Feature category has 3 nominees:

Howl's Moving Castle - Hayao Miyazaki
The Corpse Bride - Tim Burton and Mike Johnson
Wallace and Gromit in the Curse of the Were Rabbit - Nick Park and Steve Box

Mickey's tapping away at 3 separate keyboards, bringing up images of all these people on the multitude of screens in front of us.

Well Tim's out,

he says,

I've known him for years. No way would he use these sort of tactics to win a goddamn award.

I nod. I didn't know Tim Burton that well, but we'd once been trapped together in Los Angeles Zoo after some of the big cats got out of their cages. It's a long story I don't want to get into now, but after that, I have to say that I trust Tim Burton.

That narrows it down to Miyazaki and the English guys.

We talk it over some more. Mickey points out that Miyazaki's won before; maybe he's developed a taste for it... on the other hand I've never met an Englishman who didn't try to screw me over somehow. We tried to look at it from every angle, but weren't any closer to solving the mystery when the first of Mickey's crew arrives.

The elevator door rotates open and a familiar figure steps out, followed by a Mexican carrying a golf bad. Mickey introduces me,

Matt Evans, I'd like you to meet Jack Nicholson.

I step forward to shake his hand. He pauses and looks me straight in the eye.

Matt. I'm a complete asshole.

I don't know what to say. He's deadly serious. Then he shakes my hand.

Pleased to meet you Matt. This is Pablo, my caddie. He's a goddamn caddying genius - knows the club for any situation.

I nod to Pablo, turn back to Jack.

What's up with the asshole thing? Helluva way to introduce yourself.

Court order. Last time I was up on charges for assault the judge decided a fine wouldn't cut the mustard. For the past 4 months I've had to tell everyone I meet that I'm a complete asshole... Works a charm with the ladies.

He smiles. Mickey cuts in.

Jack knows the Oscars inside out. More nominations than any other man. In the front row every year. They have so much stock footage of him they'll be able to cover if we all disappear for an hour or two during the ceremony...

I nod. The plan was starting to come together. I'm just about to ask who's the next member of the crew when the elevator opens again.

Holy crap!

I exclaim,

Tony Almeida!

It's Carlos Bernard - the actor who plays Jack Bauer's right hand man in 24. I turn to Mickey,

You got Tony Almeida? Good call!

Mickey leans closer and whispers to me,

Yeah. I wanted to get Keifer, but I couldn't reach him. The guy's disappeared.

You haven't heard? Keifer was visiting with Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins two weeks back. You know Tim - an average conversation with the guy's got more swear words than Biggie Smalls' eulogy. Keifer catchs sight of Tim's swear jar - A nickel for every s***, a dime for every f***, a quarter for every c***, and $1.75 in change for every ***** ****** ********. I guess Keifer remarks on how full it is. Of course, Sarandon challenges him to a change drinking contest. Keifer, still harboring the never-say-die attitude of the Brat Pack, accepts. He's didn't stand a chance.

Mickey's shocked.

Is he alright?

Let's just say that next season on 24, he might have to combat terrorism without standing up a whole lot.

Carlos joins us. Jack steps forward,

I'm a complete asshole. It's good to meet you Tony.

My name's not Tony, it's Carlos.

Jack turns to us, puzzled.

Why are you calling this guy Tony?

He's Tony Almeida from TV's 24.

Jack turns back.

Seems like they wanna call you Tony.

Well, my names Carlos so I guess they'll have to settle for that.

Still staring at Carlos/Tony Jack speaks again,

Pablo. This guys looks 5'8'', maybe 5'9''. Whaddaya say?

Pablo looks Carlos/Tony up and down.

I'd say go for the 7 iron Mr. Nicholson.

Jack nods, and moves over to collect the club. Carlos/Tony is a little freaked out.

What? Hold up. What's going on?... You know.. maybe Tony's ok. You guys can call me Tony.

It was settled. Tony Almeida was on board.

The rest of the crew were introduced without the same difficulty. The Hoogle was gonna be our tech-guy, running the show from the Keaton Cave. And the seventh member of the team was Reese Witherspoon. It wasn't really clear what skills she brought to the mix (she was never Batman, never ran CTU, never served in a forward area), but Nicholson seemed happy about her. Once we were all there Mickey laid out the plan. All that was left to do was wait.

The night before the Oscars. I tried to get some sleep, but it was hard not to think about the ceremony. Eventually I drifted off - but not for long. I wake up suddenly. It's pitch black but I have the feeling someone's watching me. A feeling I hadn't had since the hidden cameras were removed from my apartment building - Didn't find out until after I moved in, but Willy Baldwin had set up the system for research when he was getting ready to shoot Sliver. After the picture he didn't have any need for them anymore so he told his brother Stephen to dismantle the whole thing. Couple months ago Stephen finally gets around to doing it. Why did it take him 12 years to do it? I dunno... Can't say I want to either.

Anyway, I feel like I'm being watched. Suddenly there's a motion at the end of the bed.

Who's there?

I say. No answer. My mind races trying to come up with who would want to sneak into Matt Evans' bedroom in the middle of the night. I come up with a list of about 30 names - this all in the nanosecond before I reach and turn on my Conan the Destroyer bedside lamp/talking alarm clock (I usually don't go in for movie merchandise, but this is a quality lamp).

Lou Diamond Phillips!?

It was Lou Diamond Phillips. He wasn't on the list... In fact, there weren't any men on the list.

Louie. What are you doing here man?

I'm not Lou Diamond Phillips.

I'm puzzled. This guy is clearly Lou Diamond Phillips.

Sure you are! I watched Extreme Justice on DVD last Tuesday. I'd recognise the face of Jeff Powers anywhere.

I'm not Jeff Powers either.

You don't remember!? Come on: "Imagine a world where you can draw your weapon when you want... and you don't have to yell police til you pick your spot."

He takes a step closer. I sit up in bed.

My name is Jose Chavez y Chavez.

...That was your character's name in Young Guns, and later in Young Guns II: Blaze of Glory.

Not a character Matt. I am Jose Chavez y Chavez. Matt, I am your spirit guide.

At this point, I'm pretty confused.

What's a spirit guide?

A person, or sometimes an animal, that comes from the spirit world to help you in your time of need. You and I Matt have a deep connection that goes beyond this material plane. Together we will go on a vision quest, to try and find the answers you seek.

Will it take long? The Oscars are on tomorrow.

Time is what we make of it.

...Ok. Let's do this.

I ask Jose to turn around while I get dressed - deep connection beyond this plane or not, the Evans' goods aren't on public display.

So let me ask you this: Are you Jose Chavez y Chavez, the character from Young Guns come to life by some kind of Native American/Last Action Hero style magic, or are you the spirit of the guy that the character was based on? And if it's the second one, how come you look like Lou Diamond Phillips?

I'm not sure I follow-

You know what was cool? Remember when you guys were holed up in that place, and they shout in "Just send out the Injun!", so Billy puts your coat on some douche and kicks his ass out the door, then they shoot him to pieces?

Yeah. Good times.

Jose fills me in a little more on the whole spirit guide/vision quest deal. He says I'm not supposed to reveal the identity of my spirit guide to anyone, but when I asked him about it he said they didn't have a specific rule for blogs.

Ok Jose. Where do we go firs-

Mid-sentence the door to my bedroom slams open, and a massive figure stands there holding a... broadsword.

Holy s***!

I cry,

It's the Kurgan!

I grab Jose by the arm and pull him out of the way as the giant figure comes charging into the room. I rush us out the window and onto the fire escape. When I turn around I see that the Kurgan has taken no notice of us. He's just trashing my place with his broadsword.

Awww! Not my Conan alarm clock-lamp!

Matt! What's going on? Who is this person?

I turn to him, surprised.

You don't recognise him? Haven't you seen Highlander?

He shakes his head.

Goddammit Jose! He's the Kurgan. The strongest of all the immortals. He's the perfect warrior. If he wins the Prize, mortal man would suffer an eternity of darkness.

Oh.

We turn back. He's just wrecking the place and laughing it up. After a couple minutes Jose speaks.

You know Matt, I don't think this is such a great vision quest. Maybe we should climb these stairs and think things over. The peace of the rooftop may do us good.

Maybe you're right Jose. Some bad s*** could go down at the Oscars tomorrow, and I want my head in the right place for it all.

He nods, and turns to head up the fire escape. Just then I hear a familiar noise. I stop Jose.

Did you hear that?

We both listen, but can't hear anything strange (over the sounds of my furniture being torn apart and the Kurgan shouting "Finally the Gathering is here!")

I don't hear it Matt.

Ssh! There it is again... I know what that sound is! Jose, we're not going to the roof - we have got to stay and see this.

No sooner have I finished speaking when the quiet purring grows louder, and a figure appears from out of the air behind Jose. Jose turns, freezes, and whispers to me.

Matt... What is that?

I whisper back,

Come on Jose? Is Young Guns the only movie you know anything about? It's a Predator! Man, you'd love that movie - there's an Indian in it and everything.

The creature steps forward, and looks us up and down. A tense moment passes as three red dots of light pass slowly across Jose's features and then mine. Satisfied we're no threat, he turns and jumps through the open window. The Kurgan stops and faces him.

Oh man! Kurgan versus Predator - this is gonna be the best vision quest ever!

Matt, I'm not sure that-

Before he finishes the Kurgan and the Predator charge at one another and start to brawl... It's everything I'd hoped for and more! They're throwing each other all over the place - my room's a complete junkyard at this stage, but it's worth it. The K-man manages to get a clean swipe with his sword and next thing you know, the Predator's hand is flying across the room. I turn to Jose to check if he's enjoying it and see he's been covered with flecks of green blood. Once he sees he has my attention he starts talking again,

Matt! This isn't going to help you understa-

Hold up Jose, I've got a call.

I answer my cell phone. It's Jay Lowe, the Puerto Rican transvestite that lives across the hall. He's calling cos he's heard the noise from his place.

No, no Jay. It's fine.... The Kurgan is fighting a Predator in my bedroom, it's KvP man!!... no, the Kurgan... from Highlander... Highlander one - he was the guy that killed Ramirez... Yeah, Sean Connery... No he did. He killed him... I know, I know, but Ramirez did die in the first film... ... It's a kind of magic!

Before I finish the call the Kurgan comes flying through the window, knocks the phone out of my hand, tumbles over the railing, and lands horribly on the street below. The Predator joins us outside. Jose turns to him and says,

Well done.

The Predator looks at him. I guess he didn't understand... which makes me realise what comes next isn't going to be easy to communicate. I speak slower, and a little louder, so he can understand me:

He wont die.... unless you... se-par-ate.... his head.... from his bo-dy....

He cocks his head at angle. He wasn't getting it. I try miming the actions, pretending to remove my own head - but then stop when I realise he might take me up wrong and decapitate me. I give up. The Predator shrugs and turns away, looking down to where the Kurgan landed... but the Kurgan isn't there anymore.

Oh come on! That always annoyed me about Highlander - there's no set time for how long it takes them to come back to life.

Jose nods, though I'm sure he's pretty confused at this stage. The Predator leaps off the fire escape and starts searching the street below frantically. We watch, unable to do anything, as a car comes screeching around the corner - driven by the Kurgan - and slams into the Predator.

Ouch! It'll take some scrubbing to get all that green off the hood.

The car, Predator laid out on the hood careens around another corner and is gone. We stand in silence for a moment before heading back into my apartment.

That's not really how a vision quest is supposed to go, Matt. I'm sorry you didn't learn anything to help you with your trials tomorrow.

I'm stunned.

Are you kidding me Jose? After seeing all that I feel ready for anything.

Really? You do?

I do.

Huh... Well, I guess my work here is done. Next time you need anything-

Can you do one of those what-the-world-would-be-like-if-I'd-never-been-alive vision deals? Might be a kick to get a look at that hellhole!

No, that's really more of a guardian angel thing.

Shame.

We say our farewells, and I go back to sleep in what's left of my bed. Next morning I wake up, and everything is back to normal - the door hasn't been kicked in, there's no green blood stains on the rug... No trace of last nights brawl... except: My Conan the Destroyer lamp/talking alarm clock is in pieces on the floor. The battery slowly dying as phrases from the 1984 classic are played out:

Why are they trying to kill us?

Maybee dey vant too kapcha uss, and torcha uss too deth!

My phone rings. It's Mickey Keaton.

Matt. Are you ready?

he asks. I wait a moment, listening to Conan's final words of wisdom:

Conan, rule Shatezar with me.

I havv my ohwn keengdum, my ohwn kveen.

The battery dies.

I'm ready Mickey.

To be continued...

The Sepulveda Run

2006-02-18T15:15:00.000-08:00

So I'm cruising down Sepulveda Boulevard in the Die Hard ambulance. At a little over 26 miles Sepulveda's the longest street in the city. Runs through so much of town you're bound to see some high stakes players, so it's a great place to network. I stop at a red light. A moment later who do I see pull up next to me but the star of gay cowboy blockbuster Brokeback Mountain, Jake Gyllenhaal.

Jake! Hey, I'm explosive heterosexual writer/director/actor Matt Evans.

Hey,

he replies.

Jake. I loved you in Brokeback.

Thanks.

...Well, when I say I loved you, I mean I loved watching you... like, as an actor... in a film. Not as a gay cowboy.

What?

He seemed unsure of what to make of me. I guess he's not used to hearing praise.

I mean, you were good... Well, the film was good. Good film... Not as good as Terminator though.

He looks at me,

Funny. Ang Lee said the same thing when he saw the final cut.

Really?

...No

He turns back to the road. Green light. He's gone. I step on the gas and follow. I can't let him get away so easily - I have plans for Jake. You see, if Brokeback taught us anything it's that gay cowboys are hot!... Not hot... well, hot as in popular. People want to watch them. Well, not watch them as in watch them (I actually went out for popcorn during that part). They want to watch films with them... films featuring them.

Jessica Alba is hot.

Just when I'm about to catch up with Jake my phone rings. I put it on speaker.

Matty!! It's explosive writer/director Justin Lin here!

Justin Lin?... The director of the long anticpated sequel to the Fast and the Furious, and 2 Fast 2 Furious - The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift?

The one and only. I'm here in Tokyo filming the Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift.

I can't believe I'm talking to Justin Lin, director of the Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift!

Hang on Matt. I've got someone else waiting on the line. Let me set up a conference call.

I wait. Then, a voice.

Hey.

It's Paul Walker - costar (to Vin Diesel) of the Fast and the Furious, and star of 2 Fast 2 Furious.

Pauly!

I say,

I'm surprised to hear your voice. I thought that 2 Fast 2 Furious was your final foray into the Fast and the Furious franchise.

Justin explains,

I asked him to talk with us Matt. Although Paul isn't in the Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, I thought that the experience he gained working on the Fast and the Furious and 2 Fast 2 Furious would be invaluable in fixing this problem. You see-

Hold up Justin,

I say,

Before you go on maybe we should agree to some shorter names to refer to the Fast and the Furious, 2 Fast 2 Furious, and the Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, by.

Good call bro. Paul, do you have any ideas?

Not really.

I think about for a moment and then make a suggestion.

What about FF, 2F2F, and FFTD for the Fast and the Furious, 2 Fast 2 Furious and the Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift?

Respectively?

Justin asks,

Sure.

I reply. With our conventions established, Justin goes on.

Here's the problem bros. After the phenomenal success of FF and 2F2F, we knew FFTD would be hot s***. From day one the only copy of the script for FFTD was kept under lock and key, with armed guards watching over it. We didn't want the fanatical followers of FF and 2F2F to get a look at the script for FFTD before release. During casting for FFTD we even screened out actors with anything better than a below-average medium-term memory. The guys we were left with shoot scenes and an hour later have no idea what they were about.

Genius!

I say. I'd heard rumors about the secrecy surrounding filming of FFTD but to think that the actors themselves didn't even know what they were filming! Before Justin can go on I interrupt him.

Hang on Justin. I'm driving down Sepulveda Boulevard trying to catch up with gay cowboy sensation Jake Gyllenhaal. I wanna talk to him at the lights.

I'll hold.

I pull up beside Jake.

Jake! Me again. Matt Evans. I've got a proposal for you... not.. I mean, a MOVIE proposal.

Make it quick Matt. The lights aren't gonna stay red for long.

I'm working on a project called Seven Ten Split. A group of amateur bowlers are holed up inside a bowling alley surrounded by robotic dinosaurs from the future.

What?

Just listen Jake. Sounds like a great movie, right? Yeah, maybe three years ago it would've been, but times change. Brokeback was a phenomenal success Jake. Gay cowboys are the new robotic dinosaurs from the future!

He looks at me strange. Clearly he wasn't aware of the impact Brokeback Mountain had made. I'm about to go on, explain the part I want him to play, when I hear a voice calling my name. I turn to see another car directly behind Jake's, driven by the Missile himself - Tommy C.

I'll catch you at the next lights Jake,

I say before reversing my van to get alongside Tom and Katie Holmes. They're smiling up at me like extras in a Colgate commercial.

Tom! Katie! How you guys doing?

A-1 Matt. Everything's coming up Tom and Katie!

Tom laughs, Katie laughs, Jake drives away (though I'm pretty sure the lights are still red). Tom stops laughing suddenly and stares at me, with an intensity he displayed only in Legend... and maybe Cocktail.

I've got something to ask you Matt. It's important. Really important.

I'm about to ask him to go on when I remember I've still got Justin Lin and Pauly Walker holding on my phone.

Hold that thought Tommy. I've got Justin Lin and Pauly Walker on the line discussing a crisis on the set of FFTD.

What's FFTD?

Tom asks. Katie answers:

The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift... right?

I nod. Tom turns excitedly to Katie.

That was amazing!... AAAAAAAARRR!!! I love you Katie!

He starts struggling in the car. Flailing his arms wildly. It takes me awhile to realise that he's trying to stand up on his seat, but the safety belt is holding him down. I take the opportunity to talk to Justin and Pauly again.

Sorry about that Justin. I caught up with Jake, and then I was talking to the Missile and Katie Holmes.

Man, I miss Sepulveda Boulevard... Listen guys! I'm in s***! Like I was saying, there was only one copy of the script for FFTD... and it's gone - shredded in a bizarre and highly unlikely accident involving 22 inch rims.

I'm shocked. Presumably so is Pauly, because he doesn't say anything. The lights go green, and I start driving.

So that's the situation: We have two thirds of the movie already shot, but no one here knows how it ends.

What about the writers?

I ask,

Please Matt! They wrote this script over a year ago!

Of course. Well, is there anyone else who's read the whole thing?

No one... we've only got one choice left: write a new ending right here, right now.

Justin's words hang in the air. Pauly is stunned into silence. The future of FFTD was hanging in the balance, and explosive director Justin Lin had called on Paul Walker and Matt Evans to save it. Was I flattered? You bet I was, but I didn't have time-

S***! I just drove through a red light - straight past Jake Gyllenhaal's car. A horn blares and I turn to see a car swerve by. Is it? Yes! S***! Scott Bakula's inside flipping me the bird. Scott freakin' Bakula. He'll keep reminding me about this for months, using it as an excuse to act like a complete jerk - nothing new there then.

Matt, you still there?

Justin returns me to my senses.

Sure Justin. Almost clipped Scott Bakula at an intersection. Listen, we need to get to work. When do you go on with filming?

A pause.

...Fifteen minutes. I don't know Matt. They told me you're the best, but can you really come up with an explosive finale to a picture you know nothing about in a quarter of an hour?

Justin Lin,

I say,

Prepare to be Evans...ed.

I begin. I can hear Justin furiously scribbling down the dialogue and action I'm throwing at him. Pauly chooses not to interrupt and remains quietly contemplative. Nine minutes later, I'm just wrapping things up.

Jesus Matt! This is all gold! Explosive gold! How did you come up with it?

It just comes to me Justin. Well, everything except for the part where they run over the shark - that actually happened to me and Gary Busey last Tuesday.

Yeah... I don't know if we can work the shark in. Sounds pretty messy.

Not really. We wrapped it up in the plastic tarp Gary keeps in his trunk and had it dumped round back of a Korean restaurant within 20 minutes. That tarp's seen it's share of action.

Red light. I stop this time. Jake pulls up beside me.

Justin. I'm gonna have to let you go!

Thanks for everything Matt.

Pauly, keep it loose. It was good talking to you.

Yeah.

I hang up. Jake looks up at me.

Matt. This Seven Ten...

Split.

..Split. It has me puzzled. What exactly do you want me to do?

I smile.

Simple. I want to have a bowling alley under seige from time-travelling gay cowboys, and I want you to reprise your role as the gay cowboy.

"The gay cowboy" had a name Matt.

He says, a little pissed,

Brokeback was one of the finest pictures I've had the privilege of working on. You can't dismiss a character as "the gay cowboy" like you would... I dunno, "the Jamaican guy" in Predator 2.

King Willie? What does he have to do with this?

...Nothing Matt. Nothing at all. For your information, I played Jack Twist in Brokeback Mountain.

Hey! That's clever: cos he's a cowboy, with a twist - he's gay!

Jake just stares. Clearly he hadn't thought that through before.

Hey Matty!

Tom is shouting from behind again. I excuse myself with Jake and reverse the Die Hard ambulance. Tom and Katie smile up at me. Katie turns to Tom,

Do you wanna ask him?

Ok.

He replies,

Matt. We want you... to be the Alpha Prime Overseer of our child.

They smile. Tom gives me some kind of jazz hands gesture, like he just said something fantastic, though I have no idea what he's talking about.

The what?

The Alpha Prime Overseer... Didn't you read the last pamphlet Travolta sent over to your place?

Oh. It must be a Scientology thing. Katie leans over.

It's kind of like a godfather.

Tom gives her a puzzled look.

Kind of.

she adds quietly. Godfather... that sounds ok. I decide to learn a little more.

What would that... involve?

Tom gets serious, like in Minority Report during the part where he keeps saying "Everybody runs".

The main purpose of the Alpha Prime Overseer is to ensure no BTs meld onto the child.

How would I stop... BTs melding onto the child?

It's not easy Matt. But I have confidence in you. The important thing is that you have a strong deck. But it shouldn't be too heavily weighted towards any particular skill set.

I stare. Katie seems a little puzzled too.

Ok...

Here, let's say you start out by playing a standard warrior card like Gaia: The Fierce Knight. His attack points are respectable, so at least the BTs know you mean business. But the first few monsters you bring out should only be a cover for your true strategy.

My true strategy?

Yes. It should depend on a complex deployment of trap cards throughout the game. And you should keep the strongest monster you have, a Blue-Eyes White Dragon say, in reserve until the final battle commences!

Katie finally says something.

Tom, honey? This doesn't sound much like what they've been telling me at the seminars.

I'm OT6 Katie, I think I know what I'm talking about. They probably haven't even told you about Kaiba Corp yet. Seto's not all bad, but he must be riddled with BTs.

I slowly advance the van past them and next to Jake.

Man, these lights are taking forever.

He says. He looks up at me.

It doesn't make any sense that robotic dinosaurs would travel through time to lay seige to a bowling alley, and even less sense that gay cowboys would do it!

It's an intricitly plotted picture Jake. The first hour and a half sets up the audience so that they're ready to hear why the dinosaurs are there. If I were to tell you straight out without the build up it would just sound stupid.

Ok. So let's say there's some sensible explanation for the dinosaurs. You can replace robotic dinosaurs with gay cowboys... and it still makes sense?

It actually makes more sense... So whaddaya say? You in?

He blinks. Green light. He's gone. Crap! I'll have to wait til the next lights to get an answer. As Tom and Katie pass by I notice she's on the phone. I'm really struggling with that last conversation. Travolta's taken me aside a bunch of times and tried to explain E-meters and the other Scientology stuff, but the Missile had just pulled a whole new bunch of weirdness out of the bag.

I drive on. It looked like Jake Gyllenhaal wasn't gonna play ball with Seven Ten Split. I never like resorting to low down tactics, but sometimes that's the only way to get things done in the City That Never Sleeps.

Driving alongside him, I shout into his car:

You know Jake, if you don't do the picture, I could always get Tobey Maguire. Half the people who see it will think it's you anyway.

You wouldn't!

He looks genuinely worried.

Well. Tobey's a fine actor. Maybe he'd even be better as a gay cowboy than you were.

No way!... No, Maguire'll never do it. A time travelling gay cowboy? It's ridiculous.

It may be ridiculous Jake, but it's also different: It's all over town that Tobey's scared of being typecast as a blind-in-one-eye webslinging jockey superhero. This is the role he needs to break out of that!

There was no arguing with this logic. Jake might even agree to do the movie, just to stop his old nemesis Tobey Maguire from taking his gay cowboy limelight. I study his face and see I may have to stir things just a little more.

Everyone knows you don't like Tobey Maguire, what with him pretending to drop out of Spiderman 2, then coming back after you'd spent two months learning to climb walls. On top of that he used to date your sister.

No he didn't!

Really? Why did I think he did?

I don't know!!

...Oh! Now I know. You used to go out with Kirsten Dunst, right? So that's why.

Jake looked more confused than ever. But he was just about to cave. I could see it in his eyes. It looked like Seven Ten Split was finally going to take off-

Just then a thunderous sound came from out of nowhere. Deafeningly loud! I'm swerving all over the road. I turn just in time to see Jake's car lift ten feet off the ground - he was already leaning out the window to talk to me, so when the car tilts he falls clean out and shoots straight up into the sky... for some reason.

I get control of the Die Hard ambulance, narrowing avoiding a collision with the Missile and Katie. Finally I realise what's going on. A passenger jet flew low above us and is now landing further down on Sepulveda Boulevard. People are being blown all over the place. Car alarms are screeching. It's crazy!

I pull up in front of the jet - now taxiing to the side of the road. I step out to meet Tommy and Katie.

Weird,

Tom says, nodding. He turns to me and smiles brightly.

So. Did you decide if you'll be the Alpha Prime Overseer for our child, in the hope of one day solving the Millenium Puzzle?

Uh...

I still don't know what to say.

Tom! What the hell!?

We turn up to see the plane's door open, and Travolta standing there in his pilot's uniform. He inflates the emergency stairs, slides down, and brushes the dust of his jacket before joining us. He removes his hat and greets Katie first.

Thanks for calling me Katie. Luckily I was flying nearby.

He turns his attention to Tom.

Tom. Katie tells me you've been confusing Scientology with Yu-Gi-Oh again.

No I haven't!

Tom says quickly. I have to ask:

What the hell is Yu-Gi-Oh?

Travolta turns to me,

Some Japanese cartoon that doesn't make any sense.

I nod.

Yeah, I think he's been talking about that.

Tom doesn't know what to make of all this. Travolta starts giving him a refresher course in Scientology, but Tom keeps interrupting, asking questions like "Is Mokuba Seto's real brother?" I can't put up with it any longer.

Listen, sorry to interrupt, but has anyone seen Jake Gyllenhaal? We were just about to make a deal about a picture I'm working on when he got sucked out of his car by your jet.

Travolta doesn't seem to care.

I'm sure he'll turn up Matty. If he'd gone into one of the turbines I would've felt it... Listen Tom. This isn't going to do. I'm busting you down to OT5.

OT5! No way! I'm OT6!

That's how it has to be Tom.

Tom's upset. If I understood what the hell was going on I might even have felt sorry for him. Travolta seemed to be lightening up though.

Ah Tom! I can't leave you like this. I'll let you come back up to OT6.

Thanks John!

That'll be $10,240.

Tom returns to his car to get his checkbook. Travolta turns to me.

While I'm here, you wanna do a free personality test?

I think I'll pass Travolta. I'm doing the Sepulveda Run today. It's almost lunch and I've only covered half of it.

I'll catch you next time. I owe you an E-reading!

he calls after me as I get back in the Die Hard Ambulance. I decide to go onwards rather than heading back to find Jake. Chances were I'd see Heath Ledger further down the street anyway...

A little later I get a call from Mickey Keaton. He's been worried about Denzel Washington, what with the Oscar's so close and everything.

Matt. Listen up. We're not gonna to take this Oscar s*** lying down. We've got two weeks to get ready... I'm assembling a crew.

Contest

2006-01-28T00:15:00.000-08:00

6:55:01 am, Today.
Roof of the U.S. Bank Tower,
633 West 5th St.,
L.A.
Alt: 1,018 feet above street level.

Just after sunrise. The three of us stand silently on the roof. I turn to my left, give the nod. Then to my right. Thumbs up. A pause... We run - straight towards the edge. In that moment you can just make out the sound of your heart pumping over the shifting gravel underfoot. Suddenly, there's no ground below me. I hang there for an instant before I start to fall.

Lunch, Yesterday.
A Downtown Restaurant with Good Shrimp,
At street level.

David Caruso and I pull up outside the place in his car. We're here to talk over a script I sent to him - "Seven Ten Split", a bowling sci-fi thriller. We step out as the valet greets us. Dave's about to hand the guy his keys, but pulls them back at the last moment and fixes his hands on his hips.

We need to get something straight...

He tilts his shades to get a better view of the guy's name tag,

...Raul. Back there in my glove box I have a pack of spearmint gum. There are six pieces left. It's my gum Raul, not yours. If, when I get back, there are five pieces or less, then pretty soon the only thing you'll be chewing is a low-grade state-owned pillow, while your 300 pound cellmate bangs your-

Dave!

I cut in,

Just let him park the car!

6:55:09 am, Today.
Alt: 986 feet
Downward velocity: 22 mph

It's the last Saturday of the month which can mean only one thing: I'm base jumping with Denzel Washington and Michael Keaton. Usually all five of us go, but Lisa Kudrow and Tom Arnold were busy this time round. The Zelman's just below and to the left of me, Mickey's a little further away - He needs more room for the acrobatics he pulls.

If you've never been, let me tell you this: Base jumping is a great way to unwind after a tough week. And have I had a tough week! Dave Caruso's a difficult guy to work with, but what could I do? He was perfect for the part of Alexei - the ex-KGB amateur bowling champion in Seven Ten Split. I wanted him on board.

Yesterday:

We're sitting at the table throwing some ideas back and forth about the script. Dave liked the characters, but was critical of one or two aspects of the storyline. The waitress arrives.

Hi, I'm Vanessa. I'll be your waitress.

Dave cuts straight in-

That's right Vanessa, and that's all you'll ever be. You watch rich people come in and out of this place everyday and you ask yourself, "Why not me? Why not Vanessa?" Why not? I'll tell you why not, Vanessa. It's because your a lowdown scumbag.

The girl stares at him speechless. He turns away to look at the menu again. A beat passes before she looks at me. I say the only thing you can say at a time like that:

I think I'll start off with the shrimp.

6:55:12 am, Today.
Alt: 823 feet
Downward velocity: 51 mph

It was a stressful lunch, but all my worries about it were falling away as I accelerated towards the street below. I turn to look over at the Zelman. He always pulls his chute first - If you're interested, Kudrow always pulls last. Landed real bad because of it one time. It's a little known fact but she filmed most of the last season of Friends on two broken ankles.

Denzel's looking worried. He'll pull out soon. I turn to Mickey. He's into some crazy spinning somersault maneuver - he's just a blur of Keaton.

Yesterday:

We're finishing up the main course. Dave's talking me through his issues with Seven Ten Split.

I love the premise Matt. A bunch of guys trapped inside a bowling alley. Under siege. They spend the time planning their escape, but when the pressure gets too much, they bowl.

It's never been done.

No Matt, it hasn't. My problem though, it what's outside waiting for them.

Yeah, robotic dinosaurs from the future.

Exactly... Robotic dinosaurs from the future. It doesn't sit well with me Matt. To be honest, I don't really like robots... or dinosaurs.

6:55:13 am, Today.
Alt: 741 feet
Downward velocity: 60 mph

Who the hell doesn't like robots and dinosaurs!?

Yesterday:

I don't know how to pitch a movie about robotic dinosaurs to a guy who doesn't like robots or dinosaurs - but I have to come up with something. While I'm thinking our waitress walks by. Dave doesn't pass up the opportunity:

How about instead of some futuristic enemies outside the bowling alley, we have some present day lowlifes? - No good punks like Vanessa here.

She stops.

Listen Mr. Caruso! I really don't know what I've done to offend you but-

That's exactly my problem with you Vanessa. You don't know what you've done to offend me. That makes you the worst kind of scumbag of all: A scumbag who doesn't know she's a scumbag. Well here's a news flash for you... You're a scumbag. I may not like Raul out there, rifling through peoples' cars to see what he can get his dirty little paws on, but at least he has the decency to know that he's a scumbag.

She was pretty shaken up. Dave takes this sort of thing in his stride though.

6:55:14 am, Today.
Alt: 648 feet
Downward velocity: 68 mph

Coming up to 70 mph. I expect the Zelman to pull his chute right about... now. S***! The chute comes storming out of Z's back and doesn't unfold - one of the cords has been cut - it's useless. In about 5 seconds Denzel Washington was going to have an unpleasant encounter with an unforgiving sidewalk, at over 90 mph!

...I guess I should finish up the Caruso story quickly so I can focus on this.

Yesterday:

Turns out the valet and the waitress had just started working at the restaurant that week. And they weren't there for the tips - They had a plan worked out to kidnap Arsenio Gomez (a low-level advisor to Mexican President Vicente Fox). Arsenio was in town and had a reservation for later on that day. Some drug cartel wanted their hands on this guy.

I don't know how, but one way or another Caruso worked out something was up when he saw Raul and Vanessa. Long story short, Dave's gibes threw them off balance and there was a brief shootout. Dave got clipped in the shoulder, but he dropped the pair of them easily. Last I heard they're both critical but stable.

Wow Dave,

I say,

That was weird... So, you gonna do the movie?

He puts his hands on his hips.

You know Matt, I don't think I will. It's a solid project and I wish you well, but, as you can see... people need me elsewhere.

What?... Are you saying this sort of thing happens a lot?

In a word, yes.

6:55:16 am, Today.
Alt: 428 feet
Downward velocity: 81 mph

Angling my body just right, I glide down towards Denzel. Grabbing him with one hand, I bundle up his flailing chute with the other. Once it's out of the way I shout to him:

Hold on tight Z!

I pull my cord. S***! The same thing again - My chute flies out of my backpack, still attached to me, but with enough cords cut to make it useless. The coroner wont be able to tell us apart if we land like this! I look over at Mickey - his chute's opened successfully. Why? I think back to the roof:

6:45:30 am, Today.
Alt: 1,018 feet

Mickey's near the edge rigging his chute. I'm still waiting for the Zelman to arrive with mine. Finally he shows up!

Sorry Matt, the usual guy wasn't their to rig our chutes. Some French guy was filling in for him.

He tosses me the pack. I strap it on without a second thought.

6:55:17 am, Today.
Alt: 304 feet
Downward velocity: 87 mph

Damn it! What was I thinking trusting a Frenchman with my parachute!?

I guess this is it Matt!

Denzel shouts up. He was right. With no more than two seconds to act what hope did we have?

6:55:54 am, Today.
Alt: 0 feet
Downward velocity: 0 mph

Matthew Evans and Denzel Washington are dead.

...

...

...

Or so we would be if it hadn't been for my quick thinking and the execution of a death-defying plan in the last second of our fall!

6:55:18 am, Today.
Alt: 173 feet
Downward velocity: 91 mph

What
would
Scarecrow
do?
...Of course! No time to explain my plan to the Zelman - I just act. As quickly as possible, I tied the loose ends of our parachutes together. We were then connected back-to-back by a long strip of nylon. I swing around Z so that we're positioned with my feet pressed against his. Pulling him closer I see that he now understands the plan. He nods. Together, we push apart - feet away from away feet - the parachutes stretching out between us.

Picture it: A long nylon rope stretched out horizontally, with Oscar-winning actor Denzel Washington on one end, and explosive talent Matthew Evans on the other. In the middle, approaching from below at 90 mph: a street lamp.

The middle of our parachute lifeline - where I had tied the knot - lands cleanly on top of the lamp post. And so begins the 90 mph double human pendulum of death! On the first swing round we narrowly miss each other, again on the second. As we orbit the top of the lamp post the rope joining us wraps around and gets shorter - meaning we go faster!! - courtesy of the law of conservation of angular momentum.

Only one solution makes sense. At the lowest point of our third orbit we escape the deathtrap, releasing our backpacks at the same instant. We're now flying apart, the ground just feet below us, at over 90 mph. We're gonna have to land running.

I tried to stay on my feet for as long as I could, managing maybe 3 seconds. Denzel later told me he tucked and rolled from the outset. I can't say I envy him - the rolling was the worst part. The friction's a killer. But we made it.

After I stopped and put out my jacket (It didn't take much heat before it burst into flames), I started to walk back the three blocks to the bottom of the U.S. Bank Tower. I meet the Zelman there. He's looking a little beat up, but it could've been a lot worse.

Close call,

he says. I'm about to reply when I hear someone calling out for help. We look around the corner and find Mickey Keaton slamming some guy up against a wall. The Zelman recognizes him,

That's the French guy that rigged our chutes!

Mickey turns,

I found him lurking round here when I landed. Looks like he wanted to make sure everything went according to plan.

He turns back to the fearful Frenchman, and lifts him up by the collar.

Huh? Is that right Frenchie? Wanted to see the splatter?

No! No! Please, I don't know what you're talking about. I swear to God!

Swear to ME!!!

I cringe. Mickey's been using that line at every opportunity since he saw Chris Bale say it in Batman Begins. I tried to call him on it once but he claims he was using it first. Denzel cuts in,

Let him go Michael.

What? He tried to kill you!

Let him go.

He repeats. Mickey does. The cowardly Frenchman runs off. I turn to Z, puzzled. Mickey asks the question first:

What was that about? Now we wont know who was behind this!

I already know... It gets worse every year.

We don't know what he's talking about, so he explains:

The Oscar Contest. My name's being thrown about to present one of the awards. This was a message. When the time comes they'll want me to read out the right name. After the nominations are announced I'll probably get a call from Ang Lee or someone. Nothing explicit, but whoever it is, they'll let me know they were behind this.

Shocked, I reply,

That's crazy Zelman!... Well, all I can say is I'm glad it's over.

Z snuffs a laugh,

It isn't over Matt. The Contest has just begun.

Christmas Special: Who Shanked K.R.?

2006-01-16T09:02:00.000-08:00

Kurt Reynolds was dead, to begin with. Shanked in his prison cell with the unfriendly end of half a toothbrush. Apparently he'd been locked up with a Burt Reynolds-hating maniac. He lasted a couple weeks, probably focusing all his energy on looking like Kurt Russell, but then the mask must've slipped and the Oral-B made it's unwelcome appearance. Gary Busey had broken the news to me:

It's a rough deal Matt, but at least he went peacefully.

Peacefully? He was stabbed in the gut with a toothbrush!

Yeah... well, live by the sword and all that. Talk to ya later Matty.

Gary didn't seem too upset by the whole thing. Had he forgotten the only reason Kurt was in prison was because of the multitude of crimes we'd pinned on him?... Quite possibly. Had I? No. It was cutting me up inside, just like the flexy-grip handle had inside Kurt. My spirits were low, and I was in no mood to celebrate Christmas.

Christmas Eve. I'm alone in my apartment. Sinking into a chair in front of the TV, drifting off to sleep. Suddenly a breathy voice comes from behind me:

Matt. Don't turn around.

A burglar! A burglar who knows my name! I reach for the only weapon on hand - the TV remote - and thinking of my namesake's use of a pen in the Bourne Identity, prepare to spin out of the chair and stab the man with it. Remembering my high school physics lessons, I quickly calculate that to stab someone with a remote would require at least three times the force used for a knife. This would be a two-handed job.

I make my move. I spin up and out of the chair, but when I see who's standing behind me I stumble with shock and fall to the floor.

No! It's not possible. You're dead!

It's Kurt Reynolds.

It is possible Matt. Think about it. I'm a Kurt Russell impersonator. Put the pieces together.

he replies. My lightning fast thought process goes into action: To be a good Kurt Russell impersonator he would have to have studied Kurt, watched his films over and over. Films like...

Oh my God!

You see it now?

It's so obvious! No prison could hold you.

That's right. Kurt Russell escaped from New York, L.A. and let's not forget what happened in Tango and Cash.

It made perfect sense, except for one thing:

But what about the corpse in your cell? And your Burt Reynolds-hating cellmate?

Kurt smiles,

The corpse was nothing. Something I threw together in wood shop. They'll realise it's not really me when they complete the autopsy. As for Crazy Mike, he's actually a huge fan of Burt Reynolds. I convinced him that I was the love child of Burt Reynolds and Goldie Hawn. He was very eager to help Burt's son out of his predicament.

I think about this for a moment. I wasn't sure how being Goldie Hawn's son would make him look like Kurt Russell or even if that was a plausible story, since I've never been able to tell how old he is. Regardless, it convinced Crazy Mike and now Kurt was standing in front of me. But what did he want? I had to ask.

What do you want?

I asked.

I want my freedom back Matt. I want my name cleared. You know the truth of what happened in Ecuador. I want you to tell the police.

Kurt. I can't do that. The uneasy peace between the Caan and Busey families was only brought about through your sacrifice. There's talk of Jimmy and Gary collaborating on a remake of Lawnmower Man. Is that really something you want to jeopardise?

I thought you might say that Matt. So I've arranged a little lesson for you. Tonight you'll be visited by three celebrity impersonators. After listening to what they have to say you're sure to help me.

I'm puzzled, and think my options over.

Wait a minute Kurt. What's to stop me from just calling the police and turning you in?

In a flash of movement Kurt's arm swings up and he knocks me with something across the head. I fall to the floor unconscious. When I come to Kurt's gone. I get up to find the phone, but soon realise that the blunt object that knocked me out was the phone. It's in pieces on the ground. I turn on a light and only then see that I'm not alone.

Hello Matt.

The figure says, stepping forward from the shadows. His face comes into the light.

My God! You look just like Airwolf-star Jan-Michael Vincent!... except for that scar on your forehead.

He touches the scar and looks troubled. Clearly there were some bad memories floating to the surface. He begins to talk, in a barely-audible whisper:

Except for that scar... Yes Matt, I was a Jan-Michael Vincent impersonator. Kurt Reynolds asked me to be here tonight as an impersonator of celebrities past. I will tell you what can happen to celebrity impersonators when their-

Have you ever been inside Airwolf?

No.

Ok. Sorry, go ahead.

I listened quietly as he told his story. His name was Paul, but from 1984 onwards he was known as Stringfellow Hawke to most. Airwolf was a big hit and he revelled in it's success. He made a good living travelling around the country impersonating the character that opitimised the late-early-to-mid 80's.

One of the best gigs was rich folks' parties. They'd pay me to come out and tell the guests stories about my adventures in that helicopter. If they had an extra $500 to blow, and if they lived by a lake with a little wooden pier, I'd go out onto the end of it and play the cello while looking thoughtfully at a passing bird. That always blew them away!

Things were going good, then he teamed up with an Ernest Borgnine impersonator and they really started to make big bucks. But not long after, disaster struck:

We were payed to open a new fast food restaurant. When we show up the manager says he wants us to make a big entrance - to land in front of the place in a helicopter and he wants us to be flying the thing. Neither of us could fly a helicopter, but this was the 80's. Back then everyone was so rich, confident and coked-up that we didn't think anything of it. I took off ok, but then lost control. The copter went into a crazy spiral - I had Dominic Santini (the Ernest Borgnine impersonator stayed in character the whole time) shouting at me to straighten her up, the crowd below were screaming, everything was nuts.

Did you land her ok?

Ok, but not great. That's where I got this.

He touched his scar gently before going on.

Dominic wasn't so lucky... neither were the people we landed on. I went on the run. Travelling from town to town making a couple bucks doing kid's parties, weddings, Airwolf-themed Bar Mitzvahs. The show got cancelled and work dried up. Jan-Michael didn't do much else for awhile and I was left out in the cold.

That's a sad story.

It's a common story Matt. As impersonators this is the life we're born into. Our livelihoods depend on the celebrities we look like. If they drop under radar we're left with nothing. We have no other skills to fall back on. Most of us can't even read.

That's terrible.

That's life. The life of an impersonator anyway. If I had a car I'd drive you down to Saint Larry's Refuge on 71st street.

I hadn't heard of the place.

Saint Larry's?

Saint Larry is the patron saint of celebrity impersonators and freshwater pirates. The refuge is a place where old celebrity impersonators can go to get a hot meal, a bed for the night, and to remember the better times.

...Freshwater pirates?

Yeah. Rivers, lakes, estuaries at low tide. Larry was a freshwater pirate himself before he found God... and realised how much he looked like then-President John Adams.

I was deeply touched by the story, and was beginning to see things from Kurt's point of view. The life he was born into as a Kurt Russell/Burt Reynolds lookalike-baby wasn't an easy one. We talked a little while longer before he left, and I sat back in my chair to wait for the next impersonator. It wasn't long before I'd fallen asleep.

Wake up!

I open my eyes... and start screaming! The man in front of me jumps a little but then calms. He motions for me to calm down and I'm quiet again, but my heart is beating like crazy.

Hi Matt. The name's Patrick Roberts, I'm a Robert Patrick impersonator.

Oh... for a minute there I thought you were actually Robert Patrick. Sorry for screaming.

It's ok. I'm used to it.

Patrick Roberts was the impersonator of celebrities present. He had come to tell me about the difficulties people in his profession had to deal with during their careers.

I get a rough time Matt. A real rough time. Sure, I've got the good looks of Robert Patrick as compensation, but sometimes I wonder if it's really worth it.

What do you mean?

Take today. I was out finishing up my Christmas shopping and I was spat on four times. Once at the counter by a girl wrapping up one of my gifts, and she just went on wrapping!

Why do they do it?

He looks away. He's clearly upset by the whole thing.

Sometimes they don't say anything. They'll just spit or push me or try to run me down in their cars. Other times they call out "This is for John Connor. You took away the closest thing he had to a father!"

You didn't kill the the Terminator! You just drove him to assisted self-termination.

I didn't do either! I just look like a guy who played a character who did that!

Oh right... sorry.

Sometimes it's "This is for the men you ambushed on the annex skywalk you callous f***!" or "This is for being in the X-files!" I thought it couldn't get any worse, then James Cameron released the special edition DVD of Terminator 2 with-

Oh yeah! That deleted scene where you feel up John Connor's bedroom in a real freaky kind of way. People must hate you for that.

I wasn't in the goddamn movie!

Oh... Sorry.

This went on for some time. People hated him for being the T-1000 in Terminator 2, for not being the T-1000 in Terminator 3, for belittling the role of the T-1000 in Wayne's World 2, for giving Major Shephard a hard time in the first episode of Stargate Atlantis and even for being the only person to be killed on screen by all three founders of Planet Hollywood. The worst thing about it was that he didn't even do any of these things. It was all Robert Patrick.

Did you ever meet Bobby Patrick? Maybe tell him to try to upset less people.

Once. I told him that the celebrity/impersonator relationship is a symbiotic one that he should respect more. Without the celebrity the impersonator would have no source of income. The impersonator shares in the successes and failures of his celebrity.

What did he say?

He said that's not a symbiotic relationship, it's a parasitic one.

Here's a sharp guy.

Patrick didn't take my response too well. But he'd gotten through to me. His was a hard life. By the time he left I'd really started to see things from Kurt's point of view. Maybe we had given Kurt a raw deal, but what could I do about it?

Before I finish the thought there's a loud banging on the door. I get up and walk over. Slowly opening it I don't know what to expect. The door creaks open. In the hallway there's a tall figure dressed in a dark robe. A hood keeps his face in darkness. He's completely silent.

Are you the impersonator of celebrities future?

I ask. Patrick had told me that he would be my next visitor (not that I understood what that meant at the time).

I am.

he said. A pause.

Behold!

he throws back his hood on speaking the word and I'm left in shock! He looks like... no one in particular. Maybe a little like Steve Guttenberg, but that's hardly something to brag about. Puzzled, I invite him in. He asks for a coffee so we go into the kitchen.

I'm sorry but I just don't see it. Who are you supposed to look like?

He smiles.

Before I tell you, I think an explanation is in order.

He takes a sip of the coffee.

Before I discovered... my gift... I worked as a computer programmer in a software company. We developed a program which could extrapolate peoples' appearances decades into the future. We could take a picture of anyone and tell you what they would look like in their old age.

Did it work?

It was uncanny. We tested it by taking old pictures of famous people and generating images of what they look like now. It worked on the likes of Gary Coleman, Michael J. Fox, Cher... the list goes on... Then we started using newer photographs. It was like looking into the future. We took all the young celebrities: Franky Muniz, Hillary Duff, the Olsen twins-

I interrupt,

Hey, what do the Olsen twins look like in the future?

Kind of a cross between Courtney Love and Joan Rivers... We got cocky. We felt like gods seeing into the future like that. Then one day...

He pauses for the longest time.

...The Sixth Sense had been on TV the night before. I came in to work and decided to check out what Haley Joel Osment would look like in twenty years time.

...and?

It was like looking in a mirror.

F***.

That's what I said.

We take our time with this. It's heavy. I didn't know what to say. Seemingly, neither did he. How could anyone come to terms with being a future Haley Joel Osment lookalike? It would be years before Haley Joel would look like the man before me, and by then he'd be further into Haley Joel future. This was confusing.

Of course I had to quit my job. How could I go on working as a programmer knowing I look like future Haley Joel Osment?

You couldn't - no one could.

Another pause. I'm starting to think this guy isn't as well prepared as the others were. I feel like I have to prompt him.

So, are you going to tell me how hard it is for celebrity-future impersonators?

Why would I do that?

Didn't Kurt ask you to come here and convince me to help him?

Yeah. But my plan's a little different from the others.

I squint at him. What did he mean? Before he says anything else he glances quickly over my shoulder. I turn to see what caught his eye but there's nothing there. Before I know it he has me in a headlock and he starts ramming my head against the refrigerator door!

Do what Kurt tells you to!

He starts shouting over and over. The door (and my head) is taking a real pounding. My complete set of Kevin Bacon fridge magnets falls to floor, shaken loose by the reverberations. Footloose falls away first, A Few Good Men, Murder in the First, The Woodsman, Tremors... The floor is littered with classic Bacon by the time the demented future Haley Joel Osment lookalike let's me go. My head is throbbing.

What the hell was that?

He doesn't seem too disturbed by the whole thing. Behind me the fridge door swings open. I turn and examine it.

Aw, will you look at this? It's all bent outta shape! It doesn't even close anymore.

He takes a quick look. Pushes it back and forth a little, then looks up at me.

Yeah, well maybe you'll think twice next time.

What the hell does that mean? Get the hell outta here!

He leaves without another word. A more suspicious man would think that he wasn't a future Haley Joel Osment impersonator at all - he might just've been some guy that Kurt asked to slam my head against the refrigerator door!... I wouldn't know for sure for at least another ten years.

My head aching, I finally went to bed.

Next morning I woke up thinking the whole thing had been a dream. Was it at all plausible that Kurt Reynolds and three other celebrity impersonators had visited me in the night? Not really. Yeah, it must've been some crazy dream, or so I thought until I walked into the kitchen and saw the refrigerator door still bent out of shape, the Kevin Bacon fridge magnets still scattered on the floor, and Paul - the ex-Jan-Michael Vincent impersonator - passed out under the sink next to half a jar of nickels and dimes. I kick him,

Hey. Hey! Have you been drinking my change?

He didn't even stir. A night on the small change'll do that to you. Learned that the hard way when Susan Sarandon challenged me to a peso drinking competition in Tijuana. Never met a woman who could down so much copper and stay standing - Tim Robbins' got himself a keeper there.

So it was real. Slowly the message they'd been trying to get through to me last night resurfaced. Kurt was an innocent man! Not just a man - a special breed of man - a celebrity impersonator! I had to do something to help him. I run to the window looking out onto the street - I hadn't been this enthusiastic about something since last summer when I eagerly waited to see what happens when stealth meets A.I. - opening the window I look out, looking for someone - anyone - who I can proclaim Kurt's innocence to. The only person I see is the Mexican kid from across the street. Out walking his new dog, still without a leash (his last dog had an unfortunate encounter with the back of the Die Hard ambulance. Dragged him four blocks before I noticed the ride was a little bumpier than usual).

What's today!

I call down.

¿Qué?

What's today, my fine fellow?

¡Vaya al infierno, y estancia lejos de mi perro!

What the hell was he talking about?... It didn't matter! It suddenly hit me what day it was - Christmas Day - what better day to help Kurt out?

Kurt Reynolds is an innocent man!

I shout at the top of my lungs!

I'm glad you think so.

I turn to see Kurt standing there. How the hell do people get into my apartment so easily? I welcome him, and explain I'm willing to help him. He lends me his phone (he broke mine the night before) so that I can call the only man who can clear his name with the authorities - hell, this man is the authorities: Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Do you think he'll really do it Matt? He's one of the people who got me into this mess.

That was a misunderstanding. I'll straighten things out between you two.

I call Arnie.

Hallo! Happee crissmuss, unless yuwar jooish in which case happee hannukah!... Uh... I dohn't know vat da udda peeple have.

Arnold! It's me, explosive writer/director/actor Matt Evans.

Matt. How da hell are yoo? Ha!

Arnold. I need you over here quick. Kurt Reynolds is here. We have to help him.

A pause. Maybe he was just lighting a cigar. A long pause. Maybe a woman had walked by. Still nothing. This was something else.

Yah Matt. Say hi to Kewrt fohr mee. Ime on my vay ova.

He sounds a little serious, so I try to lighten the mood - it is Christmas after all.

Would you say you might even jingle all the way over?

No. I voodn't.

Oh... Sorry.

The call ends. Kurt and I wait. I ask him about prison - was it just like in the movies? Did he have to get busy living or get busy dying? - He said he really wasn't there long enough to decide. He didn't seem too interested in talking to me, so I got him to help me wake up the sorry excuse for a Stringfellow Hawke on my kitchen floor. He'd just woken up when the door swings open.

Go! go! go!

A group of men dressed in black storm into the room, grab hold of Kurt, and are gone before I can say a word. A moment later Arnold walks in, stogie already lit.

Howdee Matt.

I'm speechless.

Hoo's diss guy?

He nods towards the man beside me.

His name's Paul. He's an ex-Jan-Michael Vincent impersonator. Drank half a jar of my change last night... Arnold, who are these people? Are they cops?

Arnold smiles, turns his head outside the door and whistles. Two men rush back in, and after a nod from Arnold, start taking Paul out of the room.

No Matt. Sumtimes da poleese arnt da best peeple to call.

He turns to the pair carrying Paul.

Dair are sum items in dis mans stummack. Have dem FedExed to Matt.

What? I don't want stomach contents FedExed to me!

Don't vorree Matt, iss no drubbull!

A moment later Arnold and I are alone. He seems pretty pleased with himself, but I'm still not sure what just happened.

So. I guess Kurt's headed back to prison now?

Yah, maybee.

Maybe? What? What does that mean?

Matty. Alodda peeple alreddy think Kewrt is dedd.

What? So? We can fix that though.

He smiles.

Yah. Wee can fix dat.

He's still smiling. He heads towards the door. Just before leaving he turns and gives me an encouraging thumbs up,

Godd bless us. Evreewun.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

2005-12-23T06:11:00.000-08:00

I'd just had a very productive lunch with Bruce Willis. We bounced around a few ideas and put together some concepts that could work. Really work. On the way out of the restaurant he turns to me and says,

Matt. I like the way you think. You stay outside the box.

Bruce,

I reply,

I've never even seen the box.

He laughs. But his laughter is cut short when he sees who's coming towards us on the sidewalk - Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. I try to prepare myself for what could be a very awkward encounter. When we finally come together Bruce introduces me:

Matt Evans, meet Demi and Ashton.

Everyone calls me The Kutch.

Bruce smiles politely and adds,

Not everyone.

There's a couple handshakes and such, then a brief silence. The sort of silence that would make a blind person think he's just gone deaf. Bruce smiles again, differently this time, and suggests I tell Ashton about the robot movie we'd been talking over. Ashton nearly explodes!

ROBOTS! I love robots! What kind of robots are they? I bet they're cool, are they?

I'm a little taken aback, but I fill Ashton in. Meanwhile Demi is staring at Bruce, who continues to grin at Ashton.

Well, we were talking about remaking Gigantor - the 60's cartoon.

AAAAAAAAH---

Ashton screams - everyone jumps a little. At first I think he's in pain - like his appendix has just burst or something - but then the cry builds into a word and he starts talking excitedly,

--AAAAIIIII love Gigantor! He's the coolest robot there is!

He starts talking quickly about something called "Rocket Punch" and swinging his fists madly. I have to step back to avoid getting hit, though there's no avoiding the spittle.

Ashton!

Demi finally says,

Calm down.

She seems quite angry though I'm not sure why. Bruce is clearly enjoying the whole scene. He smiles at Ashton and tells him there might be a part for him in the picture - we hadn't discussed this at lunch. Ashton's whole body starts shaking and his eyes are open so wide I'm afraid his eyeballs'll pop straight out.

AAAAAA--

He begins again. Before we can find out what word the high-pitched scream is developing into, he's interupted by a familiar voice:

There you are!

We turn to see Cameron Diaz - looking pissed - with Justin Timberlake standing a step behind her, holding her sleeve and peering over her shoulder.

Demi. My Justin has just told me that Ashton punked him. Did you know anything about this?

Demi is despairing, and doesn't have a chance to respond before Ashton cuts in:

That was aaaaaaaaaages ago! And it's punk'd, not punked!

Cameron turns to Justin,

Justin, when did this happen?

He whispers a reply in her ear.

Why did you wait so long to tell me!?

Justin moans his reply while looking down at his feet.

Excuse me? I can't hear you when you mumble like that.

Because I told you it doesn't matter. Why can't you just forget about it?

Cameron turns back to Demi and starts telling her what a bad influence Ashton is on Justin. Bruce is clearly loving the whole thing. I'm the only one to notice Ashton move over towards Justin and whisper something in his ear. Justin looks excited and shocked at the same time - he stares up at me and shouts,

How come Ashton gets to be in Gigantor and not me!? I wanna be in Gigantor too!

I don't know what to say, but it seems like Justin is on the verge of tears. Ashton is delighted. Justin moves over to Cameron and starts tugging on her sleeve until she turns to him.

Cam! Make this man put me in Gigantor.

Quiet Justin, I'm talking to Demi.

But Caaaaaam!

Quiet!

She turns to me,

I'm sorry. He gets like this when he hasn't had his juice.

I nod, not knowing what else to do. I turn to Bruce who is shaking violently trying to contain his laughter. Suddenly he stops, and all the color leaves his face. I turn to see what he's looking at: Lindsay Lohan is marching towards us with an angry grimace on her face.

Hey honey,

he manages when she arrives. I turn to Justin to ask if he knew Bruce and Lindsay were still going out but pause when I see he's doing 'the robot' - the best damn robot I've ever seen.

I can't belieeeeeeeeeeeve you Bruce! You were supposed to come pick me up!

Oh yeah, sorry about that I-

EVERYONE saw me standing there like a complete douche waiting for you- it was sooooooo embarrassing!

Demi now seems to have cheered up, but then gets berated by Cameron for smiling during such an important conversation. By now everyone's talking over each other and it's hard to make out what anyone is saying. I look at Justin who has stopped dancing. He's just staring at me. Ashton is staring at him. A beat passes. Justin turns meekly to Ashton, who nods encouragingly. Justin faces me again and suddenly screams at the top of his lungs - silencing everyone else -

ROCKET PUNCH!

He swings his right fist, with the force of his whole body behind it, and connects squarely with my gut! I double over and fall to my knees. Justin smiles excitedly and asks me,

Can I be in the movie now?

I'm unable to answer - or to do much else. Ashton bursts into thunderous laughter. Cameron starts screaming and grabs hold of Justin. Above everything else I can hear Ashton saying over and over,

You just got punk'd!

I'm not sure what else is going on cos I'm really worried something inside my body has popped. I know I can hear Lindsay talking to Bruce,

Come on! Let's get outta here, this is so embarrassing!

I hear Cameron and Justin,

Are you crazy!?

Apologize to him right now mister.

But you don't understand! That was the audition. Ashton said that-

Ashton said? Demi! Do you hear this?

I lift my head up to see if anyone's coming to help me out, but I can tell it ain't gonna happen. Everyone is shouting. Above it all I can make out Lindsay repeating over and over,

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!

Suddenly Demi screams, silencing everyone,

Will you kids just shut up!?

The only sounds now are a damped whimper coming from a wide-eyed J.T., and my occassional coughing. Demi has this weird expression on her face, like she'd said something she wished she hadn't. Bruce and Cameron look a little awkward too. They rush a couple goodbyes, Bruce says he'll call me and a moment later I'm lying on the sidewalk alone.

Five maybe ten minutes pass before I manage to get up onto my hands and knees. Was I embarrassed lying in the street like that? Maybe - it was a first for Matt Evans. But this is L.A., it's not that unusual. In fact, while I was lying there I'm pretty sure I could see Edward Furlong sleeping under an SUV across the street.

I get up, but I'm still not feeling too hot - and it must've been easy to read cos a car pulled up next to me.

Oh my gawd! Matty is that you!? What happened!?

It was Jay Lowe, the Puerto Rican transvestite that lives in the apartment across the hall from mine. Jay's an actor. In fact, he was all lined-up to play the hitman in Collateral. It would've been his big break. Couple days before filming starts Tom Cruise walks into Mike Mann's office and breaks it down for him:

Mikey,

he smiles,

You gotta put me in this picture. I know you wanna throw the audience off balance with this Vincent character, but let me ask you this: What would be more shocking? A Peurto Rican shemale assassin, or Tom Cruise.... with grey hair?

The rest is history. But Jay's doing ok - he's got a part in an all-male adaptation of the classic 1950's musical Guys and Dolls. I explain to Jay that Justin Timberlake just knocked the wind out of me with some kind of 'N Sync One Inch Punch. He offers me a lift. I'm a little puzzled, cos I know Jay doesn't own a car.

Oh, well I'm getting a lift home from this kind gentleman.

I look inside the car and see Eddie Murphy - I wave in.

Heh heh heh,

he replies. Jay goes on,

I was just coming out of the theater, after rehearsals for Guys and Dudes, when Eddie pulled up and offered me a lift. You can come too. Right Eddie?

Eddie gets out of the car and takes something out of the trunk. He comes over,

Sure. Problem is, the heater in my car's busted. You better put these on.

He offers me a fur coat and... what seems to be a long blonde wig.

Thanks, but it's 60 degrees out. I think I'll be ok.

He looks at me seriously.

It's cold in the car.

I didn't feel like arguing, so I went along with it. Once we're on our way I decide to take the opportunity to talk film ideas with Eddie. I figure first of all I'll let him know how much I enjoy his work, so I start out:

So Eddie. Any word on Beverly Hills Cop 4? If it's half as good as the third one you're onto a sure thing.

He didn't seem to take the compliment well, so I take another approach.

You know I've always admired your choice of roles. You took a real chance on the Golden Child.

I turn to Jay to explain what I assume Eddie already knows,

I mean, this is years before Mel did the Passion. Back then if you told someone you wanna do a religious picture they would've thought you were some kind of nut.

I turn back to Eddie, whose brow is a little furrowed now,

A courageous piece of work. It opened a lot of doors.

Yeah.

He replies quietly. I don't seem to be getting through to him. I give it one more shot.

Hey! you know what I saw on TV last night? The Adventures of Pluto Nash. Man, that hits the spot every time.

The car screechs to a halt. Eddie speaks without looking at me.

Get the f*** outta my car.

I'm shocked. Jay seems unsure of what to say.

I don't have to put up with this sarcastic bulls***. Get the f*** outta my car.

Eddie, I didn't mean-

Get out now.

I do. I'm about to offer him the coat and wig back, but he pulls away before I get the chance. So I walk home - it's only a couple more blocks. In hindsight I probably should've taken off the coat and wig, but I was more concerned with the pain in my gut.

I get back home, and who's waiting outside but Gary Busey. He looks at me cock-eyed.

What the hell Matt? What're you doing dressed like Keira Knightley?

What?... Do you even know who Keira Knightley is?

He looks confused.

What, you mean there's actually someone called Keira Knightley? I thought it was just a phrase. You know, like, 'Hey, what're you doing dressed like Keira Knightley?'

I had no idea what he was talking about. Most of my conversations with Gary are like this, but I usually edit them down for the blog. He goes on.

Listen Matt. I got some news for you about Kurt Reynolds.

I nod.

He's dead Matt. Kurt Reynolds is dead.

To be continued...

Spielberg

2005-12-01T13:06:00.000-08:00

I'm in the kitchen making a Mediterranean Omelette when the phone rings. Now I can't exactly leave the frying pan unattended cos I do not want this omelette to burn. I picked up the recipe from Pauly Shore, and let me tell you this: The only thing Pauly Shore can make better than smash hit comedies is a first class mediterranean omelette!

I sprint over to the phone, grab the handset off the receiver and get back to the omelette before you can say Bio-Dome. I hear a voice:

Matt!

Dick!

I reply (it's Dick Gere).

Matt, it's great to hear your voice. You were lucky to get through your ordeal in Ecuador alive. I can hardly believe you and the Buseys were abducted by a Kurt Russell impersonator!

Kurt Russell/Burt Reynolds impersonator... I dunno Dick, I really don't think he would've hurt us.

What? Haven't you heard?

Heard what?

Dick's shocked that I haven't heard the news:

This Kurt Reynolds guy is a real nut. It wasn't just abduction and hijacking, he was into all kinds of rackets.

...uh, what?

After the hijacking the cops raided Gary Busey's place (at the time they didn't know Kurt was behind it all). But Gary's house was crawling with exotic animals. Everything you can think of: sea turtles, red pandas, leopards... they'd all been smuggled into the country. When Gary got back he was able to explain that Kurt had held him captive in his own home for months while he used it as a staging ground for his international smuggling ring.

That... makes perfect sense.

That's just the tip of the iceberg. He was running all kinds of scams out of Gary's house. The word is the DA will be months putting the case together on Kurt. When they're through with him he'll be going away for a long time.

I'm stunned but I decide it's best to change the subject. I ask Dick why he called.

I've got something for you Matt! Turn on your TV and watch the Discovery Channel. There's a show on I think your explosive talent might be able to do something with.

It's good advice. Any good filmaker will tell you the best place to get ideas for new pictures is by watching TV shows and old movies, especially ones that not many people have seen. I reply to Dick,

You know Dick, I'm a little surprised you watch TV at all. I wouldn't have thought it fits in with your Buddhist lifestyle.

Exactly right Matt, I don't watch TV. In fact, I don't even have a phone.

I laugh, thinking it's a joke. But the laughter's cut short when I realise I have a frying pan in one hand and in the other... nothing. I look up and see the phone still sitting across the room where I ran to pick it up.

Most people would be freaked out by something like this, but when you've known Richard Gere for as long as I have you get used to it.

Anyway, I watch the show Dick told me about while I'm having the omelette, and what can I say?: the man knows gold when he sees it. He also knows the best goldsmith in town: Matt Evans. After a couple minutes of The Process I have an clear idea for a movie. A movie that only one man can make happen...

I turn up at Stevie Spielberg's house an hour later. Park the Die Hard ambulance out in front and stroll up his long driveway. I ring the bell and a moment later the door's opened by Katie Capshaw - looking as stunning today as when she sat at the table full of chilled monkey-brains in Temple of Doom.

Katie! Matt Evans, writer/director/actor. I'm here to see the Iceberg.

Matt Evans... aren't you one of the guys they were looking for about that hijacking?

That's all been straightened out. I'm off the FBI's most wanted and back on to yours baby!

She looks a little nauseated. I call this the Evans Effect - some women just don't have the constitution to deal with my brand of charm. It's like a pleasure-overload that makes them feel like they're about to throw up.

Come on in, I'll get Steven.

I step in and wait for the directing god to join me. It's not long before the familiar bearded, baseball-capped head makes an appearance.

Matthew Evans, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.

Likewise Stevie. Listen up: I've got some hot s*** on my hands that's about to explode! But I need you to light the fuse.

It's rare to see the Evans Effect in a man, but it happens.

Well... you're certainly enthusiatic. I like that. Why don't you join me for a coffee and we'll talk over your project.

A moment later I have his full attention. I pitch the movie:

Have you ever heard of BIID?

No.

It stands for body integrity identity disorder. It's the entertainment industry's last great untapped mental illness. Someone with BIID wants to have part of their body amputated.

Steven looks a little puzzled.

Haven't you ever felt like you should have another limb? Like an arm growing out of your chest or something? Well this is the opposite of that. These are people who feel like they have too many body parts and just want to cut down a little. Literally.

Matt, I don't think-

Hold up. You haven't heard it all yet. There was a show about these people on Discovery and I'm telling you this: Some of 'em look pretty good. On screen good.

So you wanna make a documentary or...

Not exactly, but I do want to go for realism.

Steven takes a sip of his coffee. It seems like his coming around to the idea.

Think of this. We find some of these BIID people and see if they can act. Then we work together, us and them, on a project that benefits us both.

I'm not sure I know where you're going.

Steven...

I can see he's ready for it. He's eyeing me expectantly while swallowing the coffee. Here it is:

...I wanna remake Jaws.

still drinking, he furrows his brow a little. I can see he's putting it together, but he hasn't made the connection yet. All of a sudden his eyes widen and he starts a muffled cough. He's choking on his coffee! I leap up and start patting him on the back! I can't let him die right after forging the greatest movie partnership since Turner and Hooch. After a worrying minute he finally catches his breath.

Jesus Christ Matt! Are you talking about mangling people in animatronic shark jaws!?

He still hadn't seen it! I had to spell it out:

No animatronics Steven. Real people. Real sharks.

I let the words hang in the air. Utter silence. He breaks it, like I knew he would:

My God Matt...

I smile and nod,

I know.

Matt... are you serious?

Crystal.

What?

What?... look: this is what people want right now. Reality. TV is all reality shows: The Osbournes, The Apprentice, Britney and Kevin, that one where they follow David Caruso around in Miami... This is the right time for this picture.

He's still clearly shaken up by the explosiveness of the concept.

I can't do this without you Steven. You wrote and directed the first Jaws, I need you on board.

Peter Benchly wrote Jaws.

Peter Benchly?... the guy who did Peter Benchly's Creature.

Yes!

Wow... He's good.

I make a mental note to track down this guy. Steven starts shaking his head. He looks up at me.

Can you honestly tell me that you don't have any moral concerns over this?

Moral concerns?

Moral concerns!

Well... I wasn't planning on changing the story much. I guess the moral is... if someone says get out of the water, then get out of the water. You know, play it safe. Listen to good advice... And also, the bigger boat thing: if you're gonna do a job, then bring the right tools.

He just stares at me, like I'm speaking another language. Eventually he lowers his head and holds it up in his hands over the table. This must be how he plans out pictures.

Matt... even if you could pull this off without anyone dying, without killing any sharks, without God knows what else from happening... it's not even legal. You can't do any of this.

I'd been expecting this.

That's where you're wrong Steven. Two words: international waters.

He looks up at me. I go on:

We have to film at sea anyway. Why not do it in international waters? That way we'd have the 8th amendment on our side: "In international waters, everything goes."

Matt... I really don't know what to say.

It's airtight Steven, how else could Chevy Chase run his cock fight yacht?... Ok, I can see you need some time to consider this but don't take too long with it: There was this chick in the Discovery show - a real looker - she's planning on getting a leg amputated in Mexico, but if we're quick we could get to her first.

He just looks up at me.

Listen Steven, you think it over... And try not to work too hard, you look a little pale.

Still nothing.

I'll let myself out.

He nods slowly. So I leave him alone with his thoughts. Clearly I'd made an impact - I left him reeling from the explosive concept I'd laid out. Sometimes it takes days for people to collect their thoughts after an experience like that with Matt Evans. Sometimes it takes weeks before they get back to me. And sometimes... with the really explosive ideas, I never hear from them again.

Straight 2008 Escape

2005-11-13T11:55:00.000-08:00

So on Friday morning we’re rehearsing for the big production of Gladiator I had planned for next week. Of course Terry has taken on Russell Crowe’s role. We worked with him for awhile trying to get down the Roman accent (like the one Russell had in the picture) but it just wouldn’t take. In the end I told him to play it Australian – the important thing was the intensity, not the accent. So he’s in the middle of his speech:

My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered biter, husband to a murdered Sheila. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.

I’m about to reply (I’ve taken on Joaquin Phoenix’ role) when Gabriella, the guerrilla leader, bursts into our hut.

Gladiator goes on tonight!

she declares.

What?

I reply,

We can’t go on tonight! We haven’t rehearsed any of the battle scenes, Kurt and Jake still have to learn their lines, and Gary’s had an allergic reaction to the shoe polish he was using to darken up as Djimon Hounsou!

None of this matters! We have a guest tonight: The German arms dealer Dieter Reifsnyder. I’ve promised him a presentation of Gladiator, and I expect it to be performed flawlessly!

There was no reasoning with her. We were going on tonight, and if it wasn’t a knockout performance Dieter Reifsnyder would not be happy. Gabriella made it clear that if Dieter Reifsnyder wasn't happy she wouldn't be happy, and that wouldn't be good for us. We had work to do, and there was no time to lose!

It gets to showtime. In the front row of the audience of guerrilla soldiers we see Dieter - a large bearded man wearing a white suit and hat. Despite our nerves, or maybe because of them, the show was electric. When Gary delivered his line,

I will see you again... but not yet... Not yet.

the audience were in tears. It must've been our best production yet. When Dieter Reifsnyder joined the guerrillas in their standing ovation we knew we'd hit the mark.

After the show we're all resting back in our hut. In walks... Dieter Reifsnyder. We're all speechless - what does a German arms dealer want with a bunch of Hollywood actors trapped in a guerrilla camp in northern Ecuador? Slowly, he removes his hat and then to our amazement he takes off his beard. We're even more speechless than before when his true identity is revealed:

It is I, Guvvenna Ahnald Shvatzenegga.

We all stand up and greet Arnold. He must have come to rescue us! He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a handful of cigars which he passes around to myself, Gary, Jake and Terry. He moves to give one to Kurt but is stopped,

No thanks, I don't smoke.

Kurt smiles meekly. The rest of us exchange nervous glances as Arnold eyes the Kurt Russell/Burt Reynolds impersonator critically.

Yuwar Kewrt Rennalds, rite?

Yes... yes sir.

Kewrt. Are yoo drying to make mee luck like sum kinda shmuck?

No sir.

Den smoke the goddam siggah.

Arnold lights us all up and we take a moment to enjoy the cigars. Eventually I have to ask,

Arnold, how did you find us?

He nods, having expected the question, but takes another drag before answering.

I have been travvelling arlound Ecuador fur ova a week, posing as da Gewrman arms dealer Deeta Rifeshnida. Dis is the thewrd geurrilla camp I have visited. It was just a matta of time before I fownd yoo.

I think about his answer for a moment and then ask,

How did you get away from the other two guerrilla camps without selling them weapons?

Arnold smiles.

Yoo know wat my advizas always dell mee Matt?... If yoo feel like yuwar about to lie, den don't say anyting at all.

He returns to his cigar without adding anything more. Gary is the next to speak,

Thanks for the stogies Arnold, but do you have a plan to get us outta here or what?

Ya, I doo havva plan. My plan is strate too thowsand ate.

We all look puzzled, Arnold quickly picks up on this.

Ah, I furget how long yoo all hav been gawn. "Strate too thowsand ate" is da noo fraze dat everywun is yoosing. It comes from a K-Fed lirrick.

We stare at Arnold, still confused. Arnold sees he has to explain further,

K-Fed is da noo name of Brittnee Speeurs husband, Kevvin Fedderline. He is a rappah now and his style is strate too thowsand ate.

Just as he was finishing this sentence Gabriella walks in. She recognises Arnold instantly - the shock almost overwhelms her. Arnold looks at her and smiles.

Arnold Schwarzenegger!? What--?

Before she can say anymore Arnold cuts in:

FARC yoo!

He delivers a knockout punch to Gabriella's face and she falls to the floor in heap.

Ha!

Arnold laughs,

Ive still gottit.

Worried that someone else will come from outside, I move down towards Gabriella's body. Arnold stops me with a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see a shocked expression on his face.

Come on Matt! Wee don't have time fur that now!

For what? I'm just going to move her away from the door.

Oh.... Ya... ya, dat is wot I thawt yoo were doing.... Uh.

Suddenly from outside there's a deafening boom! The whole hut shakes.

Dime to go!

Arnold calls, and we run outside. The next few minutes were chaotic. The guerrilla camp was ablaze and there was gunfire coming from all directions. I stop for a moment to see ex-Governor of Minnesota and close personal friend of Arnold, Jesse "The Body" Ventura tearing the camp to pieces with fire from a 7.62mm GE M134 Mini Gun. Despite standing in the center of a large clearing the guerrilla's seem unable to hit him.

Come on Matt!

Arnold calls,

Jesse can take cayuh of himself!

I run, and we escape into the jungle. By morning we reach Arnold's helicopter. Terry tells us he still has a kidnapped tourist to find, and disappears into the jungle after an emotional farewell. I make a note to watch Proof of Life again when I get home. For a long time we stand in silence. Jake finally asks what we'd all been thinking.

You've saved us all Governor Schwarzenegger, but how can we go home? Isn't James Caan still looking for us? And aren't we wanted for assaulting airport security and hijacking a passenger plane?

Let me answer that Arnold.

The voice came from a figure on board the helicopter. He steps out to meet us - It's Jimmy Caan.

After what happened at the airport I wanted blood. I went all over town running your names into the dirt, and hiring hitmen to come down here and kill you all. Then I got a call from Arnold. At first we just reminisced about Eraser, especially about the part where Arnold shoots the alligator...

Rite in da face!

The two men start to laugh. Then Jimmy goes on.

Arnold talked some sense into me. He said we should put an end to the Caan Busey feud. We should just leave the past alone and get on with things. How did you put it Arnold?

Ya, yoo shudd erase yuwar past to protect yuwar fyutya. Just like in Erassa.

Just like in Eraser. What do you say Gary?

Gary stares at Jimmy for the longest time. Jimmy meets the gaze, hardly seeming to notice that Gary's face is covered in dark shoe polish. Slowly, Gary extends his arm and offers Jimmy his hand. They shake. There's a round of applause from all present. It's a truly touching moment. Arnold speaks,

Unfortyuwanattly dair is still the matta of the incident at da airport andda hijacking. I've yoosed all my powah to talk the DA into a deel. Only won of yoo will face theez charges. The othas will go free.

Silence. Which of us would step forward and take the blame to protect the others? Who would be willing to make that sacrifice? This was a decision that couldn't be taken lightly. I was deep in thought when Arnold spoke again:

I think it shudd be Kewrt.

Kurt shudders as if he'd be physically hit. Then,

Jimmy: I agree.
Gary: No argument here.
Jake: Kurt.

Finally the Caans and Buseys agreed on something. Kurt turns to me. He looks scared - like Burt Reynolds in Deliverance and like Kurt Russell in The Thing. He needs my support. I look him in the eye and tell him what he needs to hear:

Kurt. You're a good Kurt Russell/Burt Reynolds impersonator, but you're not a great one. You're missing the one thing that makes Kurt Russell and Burt Reynolds into the men that they are: Life experience. They've seen it all. Both of them. You can read the experiences of Burt on the set of Smokie and the Bandit in the lines of his face. It's all there. Kurt? Well, it only takes a glance at him to see that he's a man that lived through the filming of Backdraft.
Sure, you resemble them, but you haven't lived the way they have and until you do... until you do, you'll always be a second rate Kurt Russell/Burt Reynolds impersonator. A short spell in San Quentin is something that'll show in your face. This is something you need Kurt, if you care at all about your art.

The others are nodding along in agreement. Kurt still doesn't seem convinced. His eyes flit over towards the trees and it seems he's thinking about running. Arnold speaks,

Hey Kewrt... I'm sending yoo to the coola.

A swift punch from Arnold knocks Kurt out. We lift him onto the helicopter and take off.

The trip back to America was a quiet one. We had a lot to think about: The Caan/Busey reconciliation, our experiences in the guerrilla camp, the new direction Kurt would be taking... It was a lot to take in. Kurt seemed to be the most disturbed by our experiences, but he has time to think it all over now. As for me, I'm back at home doing what I do best - working on straight 2008 movie projects.

It's good to be back.

Evans in Ecuador

2005-10-30T15:09:00.000-08:00

This past week and a half hiding from Jimmy Caan in the jungles of northern Ecuador has given me time to think. You're reading the words of a more mature Matt Evans. I've come to realise that some things I thought were important aren't, and some things I never gave a second thought to are the most important things of all.

Example: Being an explosive Hollywood writer/director/actor, living here admist the people who've taken us in, has given me a newfound appreciation for the fish-out-of-water comedy genre. It's not a direction I'd thought about going in before, but some of the possibilities are irresistable. How about this for a story; A cop gets transferred to a new city - maybe even to another country - He doesn't know anyone there, he doesn't know how things go down or if his hard-hitting style of policing will still fly. Then add to the mix a new partner. Maybe one of the cops is white and the other is black - then you've got that whole angle to work as well. I've been quite busy recently, so this is still in the early stages of development but I can already picture the eager queues outside movie theatres waiting to see a piece of this action!

Anyway, you're probably asking,

"Matt! How can we absorb your explosive new ideas while still immersed in the suspense of your real-life escape from the clutches of James Caan!?"

You wanna know what happened after the Buseys, Kurt Reynolds and I flew out of LAX and headed down to Ecuador?... I'll tell you. But if you have a weak heart or a problem with bladder control I suggest you stop reading now.

We knew we couldn't stick to the original flightplan and go all the way down to Quito - the place would be swarming with police waiting for us. We ditched the plane on a small airstrip outside of Nueva Loja. The cabin crew and pilot wished us luck as we headed out into the jungle (we'd filled them in on why we needed the plane on the way from the U.S.) So we trekked for a couple days, living off the land and the carrier bags full of peanuts and mini bottles of spirits we'd taken from the plane. Jake and Gary apologized for us getting caught up in what was essentially a family feud between the Caans and Buseys. Apparently it went back for six generations. Jake Busey and Scott Caan thought they could put an end to it by becoming friends but clearly Jimmy didn't approve.

When we get back to America, I'm gonna make both of you honorary Buseys,

Gary said one night while we sat around the camp fire. It was a touching moment, like when Joe Pesci talks about his pet frog in the jewel in Richard Donner's crown: Lethal Weapon 4. Unfortunately Kurt ruined the moment by asking why he couldn't just make us Buseys now. Kurt has a tendency to ask questions at the wrong time, but he knew not to ask anything else when Gary told him he didn't have everything he needed for the ceremony.

The following day we headed further north. The jungle's pretty dense in these parts so we were all surprised when it suddenly stopped. We stepped out of the thick undergrowth into a field of head-high bushes dotted with red berries. The bushes were planted in rows and a green net covered the whole place, held up by poles here and there.

Coca.

Jake said. Kurt looked confused and turned to me for an explanation.

Lady white. The poison that killed the Police Academy series.

Nodding Gary added,

The only one that kept his nose clean was that weirdo who always seemed high.

We stood for a moment in silence. Clearly we were trespassing but we didn't know whether to turn back or keep going. Little did we know we'd already been spotted and didn't have any chance of escape. In a flash of movement we were surrounded by a group of camo-clad geurillas, guns locked onto us. Absolute silence. Time passed slowly as the one who seemed to be calling the shots looked each of us up and down. Then something clicked inside my head. Kurt was putting us in terrible danger! I had to warn him before it was too late, but how could I say anything without alarming the man pointing a gun into my face? I turned to Kurt hoping to catch his eye. He turned to me and for a moment our eyes locked.

Now, I'm not one to go in for psychic or paraplegic stuff - In the cinema watching the Sixth Sense I almost exploded with laughter during the final scene when Bruce Willis realises that Hayley Joel Osment is a ghost. But I tell you this: in that moment somehow I was able to transmit a message mentally to Kurt Reynolds.

Tone down the Kurt Russell. Be as much Burt Reynolds as you can be.

I don't think he understood how it happened either, but he must've heard me because the most amazing thing happened. A gentle breeze stirred the camoflage net hanging over the coca field. The shadows wavered across Kurt's face and when they settled again he looked a changed man. He was no longer the world's best Kurt Russell/Burt Reynolds impersonator - He was now just a man who resembled Burt Reynolds.

Of course, the reason he had to make this change was John Carpenter's Escape from L.A. The villian that Kurt Russell battles in that film looks a lot like geurilla hero Che Geuvara. If the men surrounding us now had made the same association I had, they would have certainly killed Kurt, and most likely us as well. The disaster averted, they decided to take us back to their camp to meet their leader.

It was a short trek back to camp where we met their enigmatic commander Gabriella, and let me tell you this: I have no qualms about saying this woman is the South American geurilla soldiers' answer to Julia Roberts. When I saw her I cursed the inequality in the world that meant this woman had been forced to take up this life instead of having the opportunity to make pictures like Runaway Bride and Hook.

Gary Busey, Jake Busey, Kurt Reynolds and Matt Evans I presume,

she began.

The federales are looking all over Ecuador for you. There's a reward for any information leading to your capture. Can you think of any reasons that I should keep you here rather than turn you in to the government?

We exchanged a few looks with each other but came up short.

Don't you have any skills? Anything that might make it worth our while keeping you around?

One by one we stepped forward and told her what we had to offer.

Gary: I'm an actor. I can sing too, but not to music - puts me off.

Kurt: I'm a Burt Reynolds impersonator.

Me: I'm Matt Evans, writer/director/actor - once called the most exciting new talent of 2002 by Martin Short's chauffeur.

Jake: I've read everything there is on hydroponically growing coca. Some simple nutrient mixtures, the right lighting - you could double the yield of that field back there in a warehouse one eighth the size. Plus you don't have the same concerns with aerial surveillance... I'm also an actor. Had a small part in the new War of the Worlds.

Gabriella nodded and discussed her options with those around her. It wasn't long before she decided - we could stay! We were brought to a small cabin and locked up together. To our surprise there was another prisoner there. He greeted us:

G'day mates!

The others began to introduce themselves to him, but I was struck silent. I knew who this man was! I'd never seen him before, but I'd seen the next best thing.

Terry Thorne?

I asked.

Crikey! You yanks are sharp! Actually the name's Terry Gorn, they changed it for the film cos they thought Thorne sounded more ripper.

I smiled and nodded. The others turned to me, confused. It seemed I had to explain it to them:

Haven't any of you seen Proof of Life?... Meg Ryan, Russell Crowe?... This is the Australian negotiator Russell's character was based on.

I turned back to Terry.

Man, when Russell nails a character he really nails it. He was just like you in the movie. I couldn't help but recognise you.

Too right! Russ rocked up at me house a month before the film to get to know me. Ace bloke, he's bloody worth bottling!

So, what are you doing here?

I was trying to rescue a pommy tourist and things came a gutser. Had me locked up for a month they have! And they've kept me as busy as a cat burying s***.

He went on to tell us that the geurillas had been having him act out Russell Crowe films for them. Two evening shows a week, with a matinee on Saturday. Terry told us he had no experience as an actor (except for a brief stint on Australian soap Home and Away), but when they found out who he was they figured he was the next best thing to the real Russell Crowe. During the story I noticed that the pages he had been reading when we were thrown in were excerpts from A Beautiful Mind.

It dawned on us one-by-one that these cinema-starved geurillas had stumbled onto a jackpot when they found us in their coca field. They could extend the range of productions we were to perform to include Gary and Jake's past films, not to mention Burt Reynolds' pictures. They might even demand that I write new works for the ensembled cast.

In one way this was a good thing. Being the only form of entertainment the geurillas have, they were sure to keep us here and away from the Ecuadorian police. On the other hand, we have little chance of escape and may never get back to America.

* Gabriella has just asked me to change that to "no chance of escape", which I'm only too glad to do because she's letting me use her computer to update my blog.

I'm have to go now. We're doing a production of Under Seige in half an hour. Gary's happy to reprise his role as Commander Krill, Jake is filling in for Tommy Lee Jones and Terry was fantastic in rehearsal as Casey Ryback. I'm directing. I auditioned some geurillas for supporting roles, and I'm glad to say they're terrific. I've played around with the script a little to explore some themes more fully (and to make up for the fact that we don't have a boat).

If it goes down as well as last Wednesday's production of Starship Troopers, with Jake Busey back as Private Ace Levy, I'll be delighted.

Kurt Reynolds (part two)

2005-10-23T08:28:00.000-07:00

Show business is tough. It's the toughest business of them all. One day you're on top of your game, everyone loves you, you can do no wrong. The next, you've been chewed up and spat out like a Korean dumpling. This week I tasted my first setback at the hands of Hollywood, and it was bitter.

On Monday I was on fire, literally! I had just come out of Fox Studios with a 3 picture deal. They'd bought the scripts for a film trilogy that I've been developing for the past few months: Shark Wars. Maybe you've heard some of the buzz surrounding it on the internet, but if not let me break it down for you the way I did for the Fox execs.

People want one thing nowadays and one thing only. That one thing is movie trilogies. We had the Matrix, the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter... what next?

They were hanging on my every word - unable to reply.

Shark Wars, that's what. Think Star Wars meets Deep Blue Sea meets the Fast and the Furious.

They were blown away. I read that look of "Why didn't I think of that!?" in each of their faces. But they still needed convincing. I went on to tell them that I'd gotten Jimmy Caan on board to play the leader of the humans, and Paul Walker was very interested in voicing the Shark Emperor. That's what tipped the balance. You bring two heavyweights like Jimmy Caan and Pauly Walker to the table and no one can turn you down.

Shark Wars was given the green light with a budget of $200 million per picture. Add to that the fact that I still had an ace up my sleeve in the form of Kurt Russell/Burt Reynolds lookalike Kurt Reynolds. I was in the mood to celebrate! So when Gary Busey called me up to tell me he was heading down to Ecuador with Jake and Scott to put the whaling plan into action, did I say I'd see him at the airport? You better believe I did. Gary said he still couldn't get his head around this Kurt thing, so I brought him along to let the Buse see for himself.

So there we are in the departure lounge: explosive writer/director/actor Matt Evans, Hollywood legend Gary Busey, lookalike sensation Kurt Reynolds, and the heirs to two of the biggest acting dynasties in the world, Scott Caan and Jake Busey. Kurt and Gary got on like a house on fire. Kurt was a big fan of Gar's 1994 hit Drop Zone, and Gary was glad to fill him in on the fragmented pieces he could remember from back then. Scotty and Jake were telling me the details of their plan when the party was put to a sudden stop.

Get over here Scott, those Buseys are no good.

It was Jimmy Caan. He stood at the door to the departure lounge, dressed in a slick navy suit, with a group of airport security standing behind him. Scott looked shocked - he didn't know what to say. Gary looked pissed - he knew just what to say.

What did you say about the Buseys?

Gary said, getting to his feet. Jimmy smiled, raised a hand and clicked his fingers. The airport security moved in and started hurrying people out of the room. After a minute we were alone: The Caans, the Buseys, Kurt and I, and the airport security who were obviously on the Caan payroll.

You think I'm scared Caan?

Gary asked.

You should be.

Jimmy replied, removing his jacket and handing it to one of the men behind him.

Why's that?

Gary said, meeting the steely gaze of the man before him. Jimmy Caan looked him up and down, weighing up his opponent, smiled and replied.

Because you're about to get Caanned.

With that Jimmy flew forward and smashed into Gary's face with the famous Caan forehead - I was instantly reminded that James Caan is an expert in the Filipino fighting style Escrima. That wasn't to say Gary couldn't take care of himself. I'd seen him fight before and all I could do was hope Jimmy was wearing a cup.

After the initial attack Jake rushed forward to help his father. He was lept on by security - they'd clearly been told to stop any interference. Like his father before him, Jake had a fair amount of experience with airport security and knew to go straight for the ears. Kurt and I looked on in awe as Jake tore and bit his way through the security men. They fell away to nurse their bleeding ears, shouting at each other in an effort to coordinate themselves, but unable to hear each other. It would take them minutes to regroup without the audio communication they depend on so completely. Gary congratulated his son with a series of swift hand movements decipherable only to a Busey.

Jake kicked Jimmy off his father and was about the finish him with his trademark move - the Head Stomp - when he was tackled from behind by Scott. The two former friends began struggling furiously while their fathers continued their own battle.

To hell with this!

I heard from beside me, just before Kurt ran forward, vaulted off a chair and joined the fray. At first it was hard to see which side he was fighting for. You could have been forgiven, in the flurry of motion, for thinking that both Kurt Russell and Burt Reynolds were fighting among the various Caans and Buseys.

Jimmy Caan, now in a Full Nelson courtesy of Gary Busey, had an excellent view of the struggle between the 3 men before him. He knew that once Kurt and Jake were done with his son, they'd come for him.

Shoot them!

he cried out, at the few airport security men who could still hear his commands. One readied his gun and aimed.

I can't get a clear shot! I might hit your son!

Take the ****in' shot!

Scott looked up in shock at his father, finally realising what kind of man he was. The gunman nodded and prepared to fire. In a moment's time Scott Caan, Jake Busey and Kurt Reynolds would all be dead. It was up to me to act. To run forward and save the 3 men, to save Kurt and the future of the Triplets project we were developing, or...

Or should I side with Jimmy Caan, the star of the Shark Wars trilogy? This was a life and death decision both for the lives of the Caans, Buseys and Reynolds involved, and for the meteoric career of Matt Evans. Shark Wars was a sure fire hit, it would make me the next Spielberg. But Kurt Reynolds was a phenomenon unlike any other. Which should I choose? I had only nanoseconds to make the decision, but first I had the most vivid flashback...

Back when I first arrived in Hollywood I got a job in a sandwich bar to get some green together. It was a small joint, just me and one other guy working there: Mark Hamill. After Star Wars Mark had taken George Lucas aside and said,

George, this movie thing has run it's course. No one's gonna top Star Wars, people will probably stop making movies in a couple years time. The future is in catering. You gonna quit the business to grab hold of the future like your ol' pal Mark?

George said no. Undaunted, Mark set up a sandwich store in L.A. called Hamill Sandwiches. Mark liked to keep it simple - no fancy dressings, fillings or bread. He always used to say,

Wholegrain bread? **** that. Some poor schmuck comes in here and chokes on a seed, you think I want a lawsuit on my hands? **** no. White bread or no bread.

Anyway, I'm working there a couple weeks when who comes in but the muscles from Belgium himself: Jean-Claude Van Damme.

JCVD!

I say,

What can I get ya?

He looks the menu up and down before asking,

You don't have any bagels do you?

Bagels are a sore point with Mark, but I don't want to get into that in the middle of a flashback, so he screams from the next room,

Some French pr*** out there asking for a bagel? Tell him to **** off!

JC is a little put out, but I manage to smooth things over and set him up with a straight-up ham, cheese and lettuce sandwich. Which he takes to pieces like Raul Julia in Streetfighter. Afterwards he drops the bomb that he can't pay - doesn't have a dime with him. I try to keep it quiet so that Mark doesn't rush in and start something he can't finish.

I tell you what kid. As payment for a knockout sandwich I'll teach you my martial arts secrets.

I agreed and for the next fifteen minutes he taught me all his signature moves, including how to jump into a splits to support myself over a wet floor while my attackers are electrocuted by their own tazers. We parted ways. Since then I had never needed to use what I learned that day. Until now...

Caan versus Busey. I had to choose my side. There really was no contest - I lept forward towards the gun-toting security guard and took him down with some Hard Target. Another came at me, then another. I opened up with some moves from Bloodsport then followed up with a Universal Soldier-Maximum Risk combo. I switched into the Quest style and took a few bad hits - they had me on the ropes so I jumped in the air and landed in a splits. After that there wasn't much they could do to stop me.

A moment later I'm holding two handguns. I toss one to Jake who covers Scott while I help Gary get clear of Jimmy. Kurt was pretty beat-up. With his face so bloody I couldn't tell if his gift had been compromised yet. Jimmy was real pissed.

Oh, you've made a big mistake Evans. You hear me? I'll see to it you never work in this town again!

Gary knocked him out with a swift kick to the groin (If you're wondering how someone can lose consciousness from a kick to the groin, then I guess you've never seen Gary Busey kick groin).

Let's get outta here before the five-oh show up.

Gary called out. With no other option we turned and went through the departure gate leaving the Caans behind us. Unaccustomed to hijacking as I am, I let Gary run the show as we boarded the plane to Ecuador and made our escape. Sure, we could have hung around and tried to explain the situation to the cops but Jimmy Caan practically owns the LAPD. We had to disappear at least until we could come up with a plan to hit him back.

...well that's that. We're in Ecuador now. Of course, I'm not going to say exactly where. Needless to say Jimmy Caan is running the name Matt Evans into the dirt in Hollywood. Fox have pulled out of Shark Wars, Pauly Walker is claiming he's never met me. Add to that the fact that Gary, Jake, Kurt and I are wanted for assault, hijacking - a whole list of other trumped-up charges...

It's been a bad week for Matt Evans, but Matt Evans always bounces back. Always.

Obi-Wan Boukadida

2005-10-10T10:12:00.000-07:00

About a week ago I'm just on my way out of my apartment to meet Scotty Bakula for lunch when the phone rings. I pick it up,

Matt Evans here. Reaching me is the easy part. The hard part? - impressing me. Let's hear it.

Silence.

Hello? I know it must be daunting but just go for it, you might get lucky.

Still nothing. It occurs to me that it might be Travolta, giving me the silent treatment after his most recent attempt to convert me to Scientology. So I lay it out for him again:

Travolta, you know where I stand. The Evans brand is nondemoninational. I appeal equally to all--

I'm cut off by LeAnn Rimes How Do I Live piping through the phone.

How do I,
Get through the night without you?
If I had to live without you,
What kind of life would that be?

I smile. There's only one person it could be. After the first verse he starts to speak over the music:

If this goes bad, uh... you tell her I love her. Uh... she's my hummingbird. But I can't leave a man behind. You'll do that for me, uh... won't you, Larkin?

Sure,

I reply,

What are you gonna do for me?

Uh... What do you think I'm gonna do? I'm gonna save the f***in' day!

As soon as he finishes the line, we start laughing. This is a thing me and Nick Cage have done since I told him how much I love Con Air. He stops the music so we can talk.

Uh...

Hey Nick, great to hear from you. What's up?

Uh... Hey Matt. I just called to tell you the good news. Alice just had the baby. Uh...

That's fantastic Nick!

To the untrained ear he wouldn't have sounded particularly pleased, but this is Nick Cage we're talking about - He doesn't express emotions in words, tones, facial expressions or anything else so simple. To really know what's going on inside The Cage, you've gotta learn to decipher the drawn out moans he makes mid-sentence.

Uh...

He was ecstatic! I congratulated him and Alice some more and then we talked over a couple more things. Eventually I ask him,

So Nick. What's the kid's name?

Uh... Kal-El. After Superman's Kryptonian name. Uh...

I don't know what to say. The name triggers the memory of a story that I start running through in my head. When I finally tune back into the conversation I realise Nick's been talking for about a minute on the effect of Earth's yellow sun on Superman:

Uh.. and these wavelength's wouldn't have been as abundant on Krypton. The mitochondria in his cells therefore have evolved to, uh...

As soon as he pauses I jump in,

Nick! I need you to listen to me for a second!

Uh...

Have you ever heard of Obi-Wan Boukadida?

He stops to think.

Uh.. no. What the hell kind of name is Boukadida?

It's Tunisian Nick, but's that's not important.

I tell him Obi-Wan's story: Back in the mid-ninties a couple living in Tunisia have a baby boy. They're both big Star Wars fans so they name the kid Obi-Wan. Raises afew eyebrows but nobody says anything about it - After all, what harm could it really be? A couple years pass and then one day they receive a letter from a laywer working for Lucasfilm. Apparently an employee scouting locations for the Phantom Menace heard about the boy and told George. The Boukadida's get taken to court for using a name that George Lucas owns.

At this point in the story Nick cuts in,

Uh...

Listen Nick,

I say, cutting him off,

this is the important part!

I continue. The court finds in favor of George Lucas - the Boukadidas have to sell damn near everything they own and George get's custody of little Obi-Wan. Of course George didn't expect that. He figured he'd squeeze enough dinars from the case to cover an extra set of prosthetic feet for Jar-Jar, now he's got a 5 year old Tunisian kid to look after! Not knowing what else to do with him, George puts Obi-Wan to work inside an R2-D2 suit.

"Well that's that", Lucas thinks, until he gets a call from the head of the SPAG. That's the Small People's Actor's Guild. One of the most powerful unions in Hollywood - I learnt the hard way not to mess with them. SPAG's all over Lucas for giving a small person's part to a kid. Lucas is starting to regret the whole thing and almost cancels production of the picture. At the last moment Ricky McCallum steps in and gives George some advice - SPAG'll step off if they're offered something in return. George sees where he's coming from and heads back to the negotiation table with the only two words SPAG can't ignore:

Willow 2

SPAG's off his back and he gets on with the picture. By the end of filming Obi-Wan has caught the acting bug - as well as a mild case of tetanus from a scrape on the inside of R2. He leaves Tunisia to continue working with George on the rest of the trilogy. Rumor has it George even let him write some of the dialogue in Revenge of the Sith... The Boukadidas never saw their son again.

Nick is shocked!

Uh... but that's means someone from DC could take Kal-El away from us.

Exactly.

I uh.. can't let that happen. He's my hummingbird. What should we uh... do?

I think about it for a moment.

He needs another name Nick. Something that won't draw the same kind of attention.

You mean like a secret identity? Cos we could--

Nick, you can't call the kid Clark Kent.

Uh...

I realised then that Kal-El Cage's future depended on me. Nick couldn't be counted on to see beyond references to things that he liked with his son's name. I racked my brain. Kal-El needed a name! But not any old name - this was the son of one of Hollywood's most explosive actors: the man who blew everyone away with his performance in Jerry Bruckheimer's National Treasure and gave the nation the wake-up call it needed with the cold hard truth of Gone in 60 Seconds. His son needed a name that would say,

I come from greatness and am destined for greatness!

but it must also say

I am not the intellectual property of DC comics!

It hit me. Only one name would do.

Nick, how do you like the sound of Matt Cage?

He didn't reply. What was wrong? Had DC just arrived on his doorstep? Had they bugged his phone? Then I heard it. A quiet whimper which built into full-blown weeping.

It's perfect Matt! You've saved my boy!

he cried out amid the tears. I could hear him trying to do something, pressing buttons or--

I need you in my arms, need you to ho-oh-old!
You're my world, my heart, my soul
If you ever leave,
Baby you would take away everything, good in my life!

There's now three people I trust! Uh...

I had just saved Nick Cage's family, and he was expressing his gratitude in the only way he knew how: By quoting Con Air.

Somehow they uh... managed to get every creep and freak in the universe on this one plane!

Put the bunny back in the box!

This went on for some time. After awhile he moved onto The Rock at which point it hit me that Scott Bakula must still have been waiting for me in the Pizza Hut two blocks away. I say my goodbyes to a tearful Nick and hurriedly leave my apartment. When I get to the Hut Scotty was gone. He'd eaten a Hawaii pie, an ice-cream sundae and finished off three cups of coffee. And he left the bill for me.

Scott Freakin' Bakula.

The Irish Connection

2005-10-06T17:54:00.000-07:00

A while back I'm out on a date with the hot young Hollywood starlet Sarah Brown. You probably know her as Kaitlin Star in the hit 90's TV show V.R. Troopers. I called her up because she's filming Big Momma's House 2 at the moment. I need to get a hold of Marty Lawrence - I lent him a Segway scooter after his car broke down outside my apartment. He said he'd bring it right back the next day but three weeks later I'm still waiting. I'm sure he's been avoiding me since then. I wouldn't be so bent outta shape about the whole thing if it wasn't for the fact that the scooter actually belongs to my man Dusty (that's Dustin Diamond). He's got an inner ear infection and says he can't ride his Segger until he regains his sense of balance.

So I'm on the phone to Sarah asking her to press Marty about the scooter. She's not too receptive. Marty Lawrence has a reputation for being a little crazy. There's a story that on the set of Bad Boys Joey Pantoliano ate a couple donuts that Marty had his eye on. When Marty finds out, he storms into the middle of a scene between Joey and Big Will, catchs Joey off guard with an inverted atomic drop and then snaps on a figure four leg lock. Joey's screaming cos he thinks he's about to get his leg broken - Big Will tries to calm Marty down but when he sees it's not gonna work he starts kicking him in the head until he breaks the hold. The whole time Mike Bay keeps the cameras running. Rumor has it he's got the footage in his private stash along with the clip of Benny Affleck and Bruce Willis giving Steve Buscemi a wedgie on the set of Armageddon.

Sarah says no. She's intends to stay clear of Marty as much as possible. Clearly I'd have to sweeten the deal to get her on board. I tell her,

Sarah, whatever plans you've got this Saturday cancel them. I'm taking you out. Of course, you'll have help me out with this scooter thing - a small price to pay to be the envy of every woman in Hollywood.

She jumps at the chance to be seen on the arm of the most explosive writer/director/actor in town. If it means taking an atomic drop from Martin Lawrence, so be it.

After dinner I take her to see Wesley Craven's newest picture, Red Eye. I'm a big fan of Wesley's - Halloween, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Urban Legend, Swimfan... hit after hit, and the list just keeps on growing. But this Red Eye movie, man! it just about blew me away. Ten minutes in I knew I wanted a piece of the pie. After half an hour I had the sequel all worked out. I got up, told Sarah to pay attention to whatever happens in the movie, and went out to the lobby to call Wes.

I walk over to the popcorn guy.

Hey buddy, is there a phone here I can use?

He tells me the payphone's out of order, but he'll let me use his cellphone for 5 bucks. I talk him down to 3. Once I get my hands on the phone I ask him if he knows Wesley's number.

Wesley?

he asks.

Wes Craven... the director.

He looks blank.

Damn, kid! His picture's playing in your theatre and you don't even have his number?

I had to think on my feet. I could get Wes on board later. What I really needed was the Irish acting sensation Cillian Murphy. I prayed that when Sarah filled me in later she'd tell me Red Eye hadn't been killed at the end. If he does die we'd be forced to take the Ramirez in Highlander 2 route. I wanted to avoid that if I could.

I dial Cillian's number. You may wonder how come I know Cill's number from memory but not Wesley's. It simple. Cillian is an Irish actor. That means, more likely than not he lives with Gabriel Byrne. His is a handy number to remember. You've gotta understand how Irish actors operate:

Back in the 80's Gabe Byrne arrives in America looking for work. He lands a couple sweet roles and gets enough money together to buy a house in Compton. So he writes back to the Motherland telling everyone how well things are going. Before you know it, Aidan Quinn and Liam Neeson arrive on the next boat. It's been that way ever since. Ever Irish actor who tries to make it in Hollywood starts off in Gabe's place. Some move on, some stay for the duration. Obviously you get that many Irish actors in one place there's gonna be some wild parties, but Gabe has one rule: As much drink as they want, but no drugs. Anyone ever breaks the rule and you can hear Gabe Byrne laying down the law halfway across town:

There's no f***in' coke!

The phone rings. When it's answered I introduce myself as Matt Evans writer/director/actor.

Awree Mah. What's the stowree bud?

It's Colin Farrell. He's always called me "Mah", though I've never been able to work out where the nickname came from.

Colin, good to hear you. Listen, I'm looking for Cillian Murphy. Is he there?

Jaysus Mah, havven seen Murphy in f***in' ages. Wha do ya wan from him?

I tell him I'm working on Red Eye 2: The Reddening.

Ah for f***'s sake Mah, ya don wanna be workin wih a dry s***e like Murphy. I'll do the f***in flick and we'll have a rappeh tyam. You shudda be-an on the seh of Alexander - f***in scoopin every bleedin nigh we were. Anto Hopkins can knockem back like a mad f***in b******, woh!

I wasn't completely sure what he meant, but I think he was saying that he wanted to play the role of Red Eye in the sequel. I needed to put him off the idea.

Colin, I have no doubt that you'd work in this role. You're right for it. But that's exactly the problem: You're too right for it.

I hear a noise coming from the other end.

Colin! I can hear someone. Is that Cillian? Can you put him on?

It's not f***in' Cillian, it's that lanky f*** Neeson. Says he wants to yoowiz the phowin. Clean up the f***in' mess ya made in the kitchen an then ya can yoowiz the phowin ya northy b******!!

I hear a muffled reply from Liam Neeson followed by what sounds like a struggle for the phone. After a minute or so I'm convinced the argument has developed into a fist fight. I wait for things to calm down and for the Colin to pick up the phone again. I keep waiting...

After the sound of punching dies down I expect to hear Colin, who I can hear panting to regain his breath, return to the phone. Instead there's a psssst noise, followed by

Jaysus Liamo, don't be a stingey b******, pass us a can an all.

A second psssst noise, soon followed by laughter. I hang up and give the popcorn kid his phone back.

So I don't have Wes and I don't have Cillian. I'm starting to think Red Eye 2 wasn't meant to be. Disheartened, I return to the screen and rejoin Sarah. Her eyes are fixed on the movie. Good girl.

What are they doing on a plane?

I ask.

Shhhhhh

she replies.

Has he used his Red Eye yet?

What?

She looks at me confused. I shrug. Hadn't she been paying attention? Apparently it was up to me to catch up. For the next 40 minutes or so I was lost. Red Eye wanted the girl to do something but I didn't know what - I couldn't work out why he didn't just use his Red Eye on her. Plus they kept showing these other guys in a hotel or something...

Man Wes, did you blow this one?

I say to myself. I'm starting to feel relieved that I didn't get attached to the sequel after all. Hopefully Colin wouldn't remember our conversation and tell Cillian I called, but somehow I knew that he wouldn't.

For the rest of the film I sat there, so disappointed in Wes. He'd taken a perfectly good idea for a picture and screwed it up. I'll have to wait at least 4 years before going to a studio to pitch a remake.

Kurt Reynolds (part one)

2005-10-03T16:41:00.000-07:00

Couple of days ago I'm buying peach schnapps for Gary Busey in a liquor store he's been barred from. The strangest thing happens - I'm walking up to the counter, rearranging everything I'm carrying and I bump into a guy. He looks up and I freeze when I see his face. I'm in complete shock, but I manage to introduce myself,

Matt Evans, writer/director/actor. You've probably heard of me. Do you work in the industry? I mean, you must, right?

He smiles and hands me his business card, which I read on the spot. Thank God his gift isn't being wasted, I think, when I read his occupation. We talk briefly - he seems receptive to working with me - and we set up a lunch for the following day. He leaves and I pay for the schnapps with the jar of change Gary gave me.

Outside Gary's waiting by the Die Hard ambulance.

What to you so long?

he asks.

You're kidding me, right? You didn't see the guy who just walked out of here?

No man, I was just on the phone to Jake. Him and Scotty think they've nailed the whaling thing. It's all figured out. You in?

Gary's son Jake (you might know him as the psycho ghost in the Frighteners) and his buddy Scott Caan have been on to me for the past few months about a plan they have to go whaling. Between them they've read hundreds of books on marine law and the Endangered Species' Act. They're convinced there's some loop hole that would allow them bag a couple Orcas. Gary fills me in:

First of all we each need to be on the payroll of a marine research institution, at least on paper anyway. Jake came across a group in Ecuador which agreed to hire us in exchange for a sizeable donation to pay for a new salt-water tank they need. The only difficulty is that it's a government-funded operation and we need to be Ecuadorian citizens to work for them. Jake says that's not a problem. A quick trip down to Quito, a 50 question multiple-choice exam on Ecuadorian history and a couple US dollars to lubricate the bureaucratic cogs and you're in. After that we can legally study the Orcas off the Californian coast.

Next we need to get our hands on some kind of new drug awaiting FDA approval. Scott found out that there are allowances for testing new drugs on otherwise protected animals if it can be shown that:

..the potential benefits to medical knowledge abrogate those negative affects [on the animal]

We lather up the harpoons with whatever stuff we get a hold of and then it's hunting season. Getting our hands on the new drug could be tricky, but Scott's well connected and thinks it can be done.

To be honest, I have my reservations about the whole plan.

So, who's the guy that held you up inside?

Gary asks, reminding me of my encounter in the liquor store. I hand him the guy's business card which he reads aloud. Gary reads everything aloud.

Kurt Reynolds... Burt Reynolds/Kurt Russell lookalike... two one three five four--

He stops and looks up quizzically,

How the f*** can someone look like Burt Reynolds and Kurt Russell? They're nothing alike!

You really have to see him to get it.

I reply.

Bulls***! I don't buy it. Which of 'em does he look like more?

Both, equally.

This really frustrates Gary, but it was the truth. Plain and simple.

Does he have a moustache?

Listen Gary. I'll lay it out straight

I say,

He's not the best Burt Reynolds lookalike I've ever seen, and he's not the best Kurt Russell lookalike I've seen. But he's the best Burt Reynolds and Kurt Russell lookalike there is. No doubt.

Gary stepped back. He looked a little shook up, but I think he'd finally absorbed the talent I'd just discovered. I could see him running through the possibilities in his head. He was getting really agitated, mouthing words but not saying anything. After a little while he cools down and looks up at me again.

Sounds terrific Matt. Listen, I'm gonna give this schnapps a good home. You in?

I decline the invite. I had to prepare for my meeting with Kurt Reynolds.

The next day we do lunch in a little place I like. I'm actually finding it hard to talk to this guy he has me so blown away with his resemblances. Imagine, me - Matt Evans - lost for words. But I manage to pitch my idea to him.

Remember Twins? Of course you do, it's a good film. But it's not a great film. You know why?

I dunno Matt, why?

Oh my God! I say to myself. He even sounded like Burt Reynolds and Kurt Russell. I mean, I'd heard him talk before that, but something about the way he said "why" reminded me of Burt Reynolds in Cop and a Half, and of Kurt Russell in Escape from New York.

I'll tell you why: it's because Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito don't look at all alike.

I let that sink in. He thinks about it.

Who would believe they're twins? It's ridiculous when you stop and think about it.

You're right Matt. I never thought about it like that.

That's Hollywood -

I reply,

- All smoke and mirrors. They can make you think anything they want... I have a new concept. Something that'll make people forget all about Twins. It's Twins for a new generation.

I knew I had him with that line. I'd been up all night perfecting the delivery in front of a mirror.

What's the idea?

he asks, as eager as Burt Reynolds in Striptease or Kurt Russell in Tequila Sunrise. I smile, and deliver the knockout punch:

Triplets.

I sit back and sip on my latté. Let the magic do it's work Matty. He was stunned. He looked like Kurt Russell in Executive Decision when he realised it was up to him to land the plane, and like Burt Reynolds in Cannonball Run 2 when the chaos of the big fight's over and he remembers the race still hasn't finished. I continue.

Burt Reynolds, you and Kurt Russell play triplets. The plot isn't important. What's important is that when the three of you stand side-by-side audiences will think that two Hollywood greats they know and love are suddenly identical! You're the missing link. A fade-in from one to the other. You'll be like three slightly different shades of the same colour. It'll be beautiful.

You can make this happen?

he asks, eyes wide with excitement.

Perhaps you've forgotten who I am: The name's Matt Evans.

It was a total success. Kurt Reynolds was on board. All I need now is to sign up Burt Reynolds and Kurt Russell, sell it to a studio and write the script.

All in a days work for Matt Evans.

The Die Hard ambulance

2005-10-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

So my new explosive blog is online for less than 24 hours and I already get a call from the Hoogle (that's the name Pauly Reubens goes by now - you may know him best as Pee Wee Herman). Back in '86 the Hoog did the voice of the alien spaceship in Flight of the Navigator. It was a life-changing experience for him. After filming finished he became obsessed with computers and the idea of artificial intelligence. When the internet exploded onto the scene Pauly was all over it. He knows it inside out. That's where the name 'The Human Google' came from.

So anyway, the Hoog wakes me up in the middle of the night (he doesn't sleep much anymore) and he's running through my new blog.

Matty. I love the blog, love it. I've read every single blog on the net and yours blows the rest of them away - Nothing else holds a candle to your explosive life!... But,

That was it - when you get a 'But' from the Hoog you know something's wrong. This guy spends 23 hours a day on the internet absorbing information like a sponge (The other hour he has to sit in a cold bath with a wet cloth on his forehead to cool down his brain). He knows what works and what doesn't. So at this point, I'm all ears. The Hoog is about to give me advice on my webpage, and I can't afford to pass it up.

I hear Matt Evans, I think the Die Hard ambulance. Who doesn't? Everyone in L.A. knows who just went by when the Die Hard ambulance passes. It's the KITT to your Michael Knight, the Max to your kid in Flight of the Navigator! You wanna introduce yourself to the rest of the world, you need to talk about the Die Hard ambulance.

He was right, but then, when is the Hoog ever wrong? I told him I'd get right on it and he hung up without another word. Interpersonal pleasantries have become a thing of the past for the Hoog. Some people miss the old Pauly, but he made his choice. The Hoog is here to stay.

So here's the deal: When I arrived in Hollywood I needed wheels. No one in this town walks or gets the bus - that's why everyone here thought Speed was so ridiculous. Now, after my encounter with Dick Gere under the Y I knew that I was special. I couldn't get any old car. It had to have a history. A history in film, and a future with Matt Evans.

If I was a cheesy guy I would have tried to pick up something like a Ford Torino - the Starsky and Hutch car. But I knew I had to set myself apart. It came to me like a vision. I knew the car I needed, and I spent a month tracking it down.

The ambulance from Die Hard. The ambulance that Theo tries to escape from the Nakatomi Plaza in, only to be creamed by Argyle in the limosine. I had to find this ambulance. I called Clarence Gilyard Jr. (he played Theo) and asked him if he knew where it was. He didn't. But he said De'voreaux White (Argyle) might. I found him and sure enough, he still had the ambulance in his garage. Apparently he had demanded it as part of his fee for playing Argyle.

He wasn't willing to part with it. Too much sentimental value. But I couldn't let this go.

De'voreaux. This ambulance was meant to be driven by Matt Evans.

I said.

Here's the deal: You give it to me, and when I make it big I'll cast you in the lead of one of my pictures.

I knew he'd go for it. At this point in time his last role had been Second Transvestite in Zack Heaton's Shadow Hours. It was a solid role, but he needed another break. Die Hard should have made him pop into the big time but Bruce Willis stole the thunder on that one. When they told De'voreaux that Die Hard 2 would focus on John McClane again, he turned down the small cameo they offered him and almost quit acting.

He accepted my proposal and the ambulance was mine. Obviously I couldn't drive around in a regular ambulance, so I painted it white all over and removed the sirens. It was still pretty dented up on one side from where the limo creamed it, and it's always been a helluva lot easier to turn left than right, but I live in the City of Angels. Anyone who knows L.A. well knows three lefts are as good as a right.

I hadn't been driving the Die Hard ambulance for more than a couple weeks when I was in a crash. I've always been a great multi-tasker - so there I was driving down Sunset Boulevard while reading my favorite book: "Pearl Harbor - the Movie and the Moment" by Jerry Bruckheimer.

Bam! I get blindsided passing through and intersection. After I came to a stop and finished the paragraph I was on I stepped out of the car to check out the damage. I couldn't believe what had happened. The ambulance wasn't too badly beat-up, but who had hit me? None other than Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger in his yellow Hummer. Of course, this is afew years ago now so he wasn't governor at the time.

He steps out and strides over. Takes two cigars out of his jacket - passes one to me and lights them both casually. The two of us, standing there in the middle of an intersection smoking Cubans. He speaks,

Yohr van lucks like a peece of shid widda hangova.

Obviously he didn't recognise it. I tell him it's the Die Hard ambulance.

No kidding! Yoo know Bruce Willis is a gud frend oh mine. I used to own a chain of restahrants widdim. Planed Holleewudd.

Good burgers.

Yuwar dam rite good burgers.

Maybe it wasn't the best time, but I couldn't resist trying to get Arnie on board with one of my projects. I told him.

Arnold. I'm Matt Evans, the explosive writer/director/actor - you've probably heard of me. I would love to work on a project with you sometime. We should do lunch and talk over afew ideas.

He paused. He seemed troubled.

Matt, I herd alodda boolshid in my time bud I know yuwar nod boolshidding me. I can see it in yohr eyes. Yoo have an explosive talent and ten years aggo I wudduv been all ova dis deal. But not now. I'm retihring from da moovie bizniss.

I was shocked. Had it come down to me, Matt Evans, to convince the great Arnold Schwarzenegger to keep making blockbuster hits? He went on,

Affta End of Days I knew I cudden go on. I had to stop making moovies. Not becozz id wassen verking anymohr, or becozz peepul didden wahn me to. I just felt I cudd be doing something mohwah.

I thought about it.

But after End of Days you made the blockbuster success The 6th Day.

Yuwar rite. But I had to. It was a stohree dat had to be tohld. Peepul needed to be made awayah of da dangers of human cloning. I had to do someting to let everyone know.

He took a knowing drag on his cigar. I realised that this was a changed Arnold Schwarzenegger. This wasn't the same Arnold who spent the 80's and 90's killing James Earl Jones' Thulsa Doom, Michael Biehn's Kyle Reese, Vernon Wells' Bennett, Robert Davi's Max Keller, the Predator, Professor Toru Tanaka's Sub Zero, Ed O'Ross' Viktor Rostavili, Ronny Cox' Vilos Cohaagen, Robert Patrick's T-1000, Charles Dance's Benedict, Art Malik's Salim Abu Aziz, Jimmy Caan's Robert Degeurin and Gabriel Byrne's Satan! This was a changed man before me.

He'd conquered the body-building world. He'd conquered the entertainment industry. It was time to move on.

Matt

he said,

Yoo seem like a shahrp guy. Watt do yoo think I shudd do wid da resta my life?

Arnold.

I replied,

How do you like the sound of Governor Scwharzenegger?

He tossed his head back and laughed a great booming laugh.

Matt. Yuwar my kinda basstadd!

We laughed together while the motorists we were holding up looked on in awe. What happened next for Arnold? Well, you know rest of the story. Could any of this happened if it hadn't been for De'voreaux White parting with the Die Hard ambulance? I guess we'll never know.

Under the Y

2005-10-01T16:13:00.000-07:00

The last post really took me back. Back in school, hanging out with Mark-Paul and the crew. Good times. The best. So what happens next, you ask. How does a kid in middle America grow up to be Matt Evans - the Hollywood screenwriter/director/actor that the public will soon come to know and love? It's a long story. One staggering success after another, it's been all I could do to keep my feet on the ground during my meteoric rise into the stratosphere of celebrity.

But I learned from the best. Case in point: This happened afew years ago, sure I could give you the date and all the details but like Ricky says (that's Rick Moranis),

Nobody ever gives a f*** about the details - they want the raw truth. Give it to 'em raw that's what I always say. Raw!

I'll tell you something, you've never played basketball until you've shot hoops with Ricky Moranis. Energy, vitality, stamina - he'll tear you apart and have enough left to do it all over again. Or so I've heard.

So afew years ago, I arrive in Hollywood for the first time. This was me trying to make it in the world. It's been my dream for as long as I could remember to come to the Big Easy and blow the studio heads away with my explosive ideas! So I have $70 in my pocket, a carrier bag with a couple shirts and another bag with 12 scripts I'd written - each more explosive than the last.

Where to first? Paramount? Fox? Miramax? - I knew they'd be all over me as soon as I walk in the door. If you've never met me you wouldn't know, but I emanate heat. I'm talking about a temperature jump of 5 maybe 10 degrees when I walk into a room. It's a glow - a warmth. Like my personality is a slow-motion explosion. I'm explosive. I knew they'd buy up the twelve scripts, contract me for another dozen and set me up with a sweet apartment and a DeLorean to drive to it in.

As I was standing at the bus station running through all this in my mind I almost overheated! Man, I needed to step back and put things in perspective. I thought of Tom Cruise in Days of Thunder. He thought he was so f***in' hot and you know what? - He was. But he still had to cool off a little before he let everyknow know how hot he was. Otherwise they'd get burned. It was the same with me.

Then it hit me.

Go to the center of Hollywood

It was like a voice from above. And I understood exactly what I had to do. I walked away from the bus station but I didn't go downtown, I went up. I went up to the Hollywood sign on the hill and started walking right over to the Y - the center of Hollywood. This was a Zen moment, I s*** you not. Like everything suddenly made sense.

Now this next bit you might not believe - looking back, I don't even know if I believe it - But believe me, it's the truth!... Sitting there, in front of the Y, mediating like some yoga master or something, is none other than Dick Gere.

Richard E. Gere, star of Pretty Woman and co-star of the Jackal, is right in front of me. Day One of Matt Evans' new life in Hollywood, and here I am in front of the Y with Dick Gere. Without even opening his eyes, he starts talking to me:

Welcome Matthew. You've finally arrived.

He knew my name - how? My mind raced, had he seen my stage adaptation of Kung Fu? Had he seen the episode of Automan I co-wrote? A hundred other things flew threw my head, but I knew this was something else.

Don told me I should expect you here.

I replied,

You don't mean...

Yes Matthew. Don Simpson's body may have expired, but he's too important to this world to move on yet.

Don Simpson, Jerry Bruckheimer's collaborator, was still with us somehow. It made perfect sense. So much of himself had been pushed into Bad Boys, into Days of Thunder, into Top Gun and Beverly Hills Cop - and those films are still very much alive. Perhaps connected loosely to this world Don had reached out for the one man in Hollywood with the inner peace to hear his call - Dick Gere.

So we sat and talked. For a night and a day. I learned alot from Dick, and he from me. He was waivering about whether or not to take the role of Billy Flynn in Chicago. I knew it'd be a smash hit so I laid it out straight.

Dick, I'll lay it out straight

I said.

You don't take this role they'll give it to Matthew Broderick or someone like that. You know I'm not lying. Let's give Ferris a day off shall we?

He laughed, a merry Buddhist laugh that warms the heart. I laughed... And maybe, just for a second I thought I heard Don laugh too.

It was special. Not everyone has that kind of welcome to Hollywood - to have a genuine superstar channel a dead hero under the Y of the Hollywood sign - but then, not everyone is Matt Evans.

Premiere

2005-10-01T12:33:00.000-07:00

Bam!
Matt Evans here with the first issue of my explosive new blog! I've gotta say it - I am pumped about this! It's a new thing for me, and it's not as if I didn't have my reservations. I mean Jerry once said (that's Jerry Bruckheimer),

Don't give 'em any interviews - not a word. You let the work speak for you.

Easy to say when you've got Top Gun and Days of Thunder under your belt. I mean, after Iceman tells Maverick he'll fly with him anytime what is there left to say?
But that's Jerry. When you're at his level it's hard to remember what it was like starting out. And that's where I am - starting out.

Sure I've had my successes. I suppose it all started back in high school. The principal comes to me and says,

Mr. Evans, we need to put on the best damn high school play this town's ever seen. We cannot have a repeat of last years West Side Story debacle. We need a hit. Matthew, we need you.

I was stoked. I had three weeks to come up with a fresh, explosive concept that would have parents running for their cheque books and funding the school's drama department into the next millenium. But it's when you really need inspiration that it's hardest to come by. I'd say to Mark-Paul (that's Mark-Paul Gosselaar),

Dammit Mark-Paul! I'm tapped. The well of Evans' ideas is running dry!

Mark-Paul turned to me and said - oh, I suppose I should say something about being in high school with Mark-Paul Gosselaar. When people hear about it, they always react the same:

Jesus Matt! You went to high school with Zack Morris! That must've been fantastic!

Which, pardon my French, is complete merde. I grab the guy by the scruff of the neck - if it's a chick I'm less aggressive - and say,

F*** Zack Morris! Zack Morris doesn't have s*** on Mark-Paul Gosselaar! If Eric L. Harry's nightmare vision of a Chinese Invasion of the U.S. ever comes to pass, Mark-Paul is the guy I'd wanna have in the trenches next to me. Not Zack f***in' Morris.

So Mark-Paul says,

Matt. The Evans well is bottomless. I've known from the first time I met you, you'd blow the f*** out of Hollywood with your ever more explosive ideas! Now get back to work and write, direct and star in the best damn play this schools ever seen!

His exact words. I'll never forget it.

And so it came to pass. For the next three weeks I worked my ass off to adapt the hit TV show Kung Fu to the stage. I played David Carradine's role. Mark-Paul starred opposite me as my smart-alec kid sidekick. The dialogue was tight. The flashback scenes to my childhood in the Shaolin monastery had the crowd in tears. The fight scenes blew everyone away. We were getting standing ovations during the performance! It was explosive!... Reviews were mixed.

But that was it. I'd caught the writing/directing/starring in bug. Every teacher in school tried to convince me to follow another path, but once you've caught the bug, you can't let it go. Never.

Enough reminiscing! What I came here to say is this:

Welcome to Matt Evans' Xplosive True Life Xperiences

I'm pumped and I hope you are too as you prepare to get a glimpse into the fast-paced high-flying rollercoaster ride that is my life.

Mark-Paul, this one's for you. You can be my wingman anytime.