Chapter 37: Secured an Audition for Joey
Bruce parked the car in front of the apartment building and, together with Joey, lifted a box out of the trunk. Inside were nearly two hundred videotapes Joey had 'carefully selected'—not all adult films, about half were R-rated movies.
After hauling the box up to Joey's place, Joey said excitedly, "I'm planning a movie marathon for the rest of the day—want to join me?"
"I'll pass," Bruce said. "Enjoy it on your own. I'm not watching that stuff with another dude."
Bruce headed upstairs to his apartment and called Gwen Miller.
"Hi, Gwen. It's Bruce White—we spoke yesterday."
"Bruce, I just met with your agent Estelle about half an hour ago. Why are you calling?"
"Really? How did it go?"
"Ask Estelle for the details."
"Fair enough, just curious. Gwen, I'm calling about Inglourious Basterds—I heard Miramax is moving forward with it after New Year's. Is that true?"
"I know some things, but why are you asking?"
"I have a friend who'd be perfect for one of the roles. If you're casting, could you give him an audition?"
"Well... as the original screenwriter your opinion carries weight, but lead casting is really the producer and director's call. You should pitch it to them directly."
"Who's directing and producing?"
"Quentin's directing, and Harvey's producing."
"Quentin's actually directing it? When did that happen?"
"A few days ago. Quentin was promoting Pulp Fiction somewhere in Europe, called Harvey from overseas and convinced him. Now he's back in the States and will be locking in key crew—including cast—very soon. By the way, you know Quentin, right?"
"We met once. I'll reach out to him."
Bruce hung up and dialed the number Quentin had left.
"Hey, Quentin—it's Bruce White."
"Hey, Bruce! Working on a new script?"
"Not at the moment. Why?"
"Just curious what you'll write next."
"When I do, you'll be the first to know. I'm calling because I heard you're directing Inglourious Basterds?"
"That's right. Like your friend said when I met you, if someone else made it—whether it turned out great or terrible—I'd regret not doing it myself. So I pushed everything else aside to focus on this."
"That's great news—nobody's better suited for it. Listen, about Joey—my friend you met—if casting's started, could you audition him for Donny Donowitz? We talked about it when you came by."
"Of course I remember—I promised you both. Sorry I didn't call sooner, but once I get deep into prep I forget everything else. Have him at Miramax the day after tomorrow, nine a.m. We're holding auditions for supporting roles."
"Thanks, Quentin. He'll be there."
Bruce hung up and hurried downstairs to Joey's apartment.
Joey opened the door holding a slice of pizza. "Bruce, what's wrong? You look like you're running from something."
"Turn off the movie. Pull out the Inglourious Basterds script—you've got an audition for Donny Donowitz at Miramax the day after tomorrow. You still have the copy you took from my place?"
Still processing, Joey turned toward his room, then doubled back, opened the fridge and pulled out a stapled script.
Bruce stared. Scripts in the fridge? Then again—this was Joey.
"How'd you pull this off? One phone call upstairs and I've got an audition?"
"I only got you the audition. And please turn off that movie—how can you eat pizza while watching that?"
Joey grinned and clicked the TV off. "I don't know why, but it makes me hungry. Anyway, go on."
"I called Gwen at Miramax. She told me Quentin's directing, so I called him directly. He set up the audition."
"Thanks, Bruce. I was hoping Quentin would just offer me the role, but an audition works—I trust my acting."
"Exactly. One day directors will be begging you to be in their movies—no auditions required."
Joey looked up, smiling, already imagining the Hollywood lifestyle.
"I'm starting prep right now!"
"Other actors will only get a few pages at the audition, but you've got the full script—two days to prepare. The part's yours to win."
"I'll learn every line and nail this character in two days!"
"Write down any ideas you have about the character. Show Harvey and Quentin you've done your homework. Alright, I'm heading out." He turned toward the door.
"Hey—wait! Where are you going?"
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