I used to work at a
public radio station that cycled through
news directors the way most stations cycle through
CDs. The looniest we ever had was a guy named Jim, who informed us his first day that he used to be in
movies. "
Neat!" we said, "Which ones?" He named off several we'd never heard of before finally telling us he had a
bit part in the
notorious "
Ilsa: She-Wolf of the SS." "Oh, we've heard of that one," we said
diplomatically, noting internally that he really had no
movie career to speak of.
Still, Jim was an
enthusiastic name-dropper. "I was at a
party once, and I said to
Arnold..." "Hey, I'll tell you what
Julia told me about
acting..." "So I was at this
premiere, and this is what I said to
Steven..." Of course, what we were all
thinking (unfortunately, we were too damn
polite to actually say it out loud) was "How does someone who had a
bit part in a
seedy,
exploitative,
S&M crapfest 30 years ago get into parties with
Hollywood's
A-list stars? Answer: He
doesn't."
Of course, Jim also assumed that the rest of us knew
nothing about the
movies. "You've heard of
Orson Welles, right?" he'd say, "He was a
great director." Two
rabid movie hounds, an
unproduced screenwriter, and a half-dozen
casual filmgoers in the office, and he tries to
instruct us in the glories of "
Citizen Kane." Another time, a bunch of us were
riffing on
Monty Python routines, when Jim walks by and says, "You know,
Monty Python changed the face of
comedy." Wow. Ya think? It's a
wonder we ever survived without his
keen insight.
But the capper came when Jim was talking about the never-to-be-produced
talk show he wanted to host about
film. "My first
show," he'd brag, "I'll open the
mike and say, 'There are
two things that
ruined
Hollywood:
sound and
color.' Then I'll open the
phone lines and let the
callers speak." He finally
pitched his idea to the station
manager, who told him, "If you want to look like an
ass, that's
fine, but don't try to
drag this station down to your
level."