The nascent director’s hedge had failed. Clea and I squirmed.
“You can make a very much lot of money,” said Henrik, precipitately.
“This giant fellow is a money man!” said Mikkel, patting his friend’s shoulder.
“We furnish you with money,” said Henrik, oddly emphasizing the word.
Gauging Thad’s mood, Mikkel said, “Oh please, not now!”
“You are his agent?” asked Henrik of Miriam, somewhat aggressively.
“His book agent, yes.”
“You are not theatrical?”
“No,” said Miriam. “But any option of material would go through me.”
She wasn’t sure why he was asking, and felt silly having replied with such formality.
“Ah! Do you drive a hard bargain?” Henrik lit up. The fairy-tale wraith had found his métier.
“She’s been known to,” said Clea, in biker chickese.
“But I wished to speak about something else,” said Henrik. “May I? Candidly?” Mikkel put a hand on Henrik’s arm, as if to demonstrate that his friend was an unruly, amusing child who it was best to indulge without taking seriously. “I am a designer from Oslo. Your father’s books are very big in Norway! I design furnishings, for the home. We would like to do a Jack Michelet line, like the Ernest Hemingway Collection — Thomasville. You heard of the company Thomasville, no? They do Hemingway, Bogart — I think soon they do Fitzgerald. All our research has adjudicated a Jack Michelet line would performance very well. I have seen photographic archives of the Vineyard compound and the homes your daddy, Black Jack — what fantastic nickname, no? — lived in through the many years. You lived there too, yes? No? You can be wonderful to consult! But this thing I am saying is that you would be perfect to announce it on television.”
“What?” said Thad, beyond flustered.
“The line,” said Henrik.
“Your movies have done well in Norway too, yes? No?” said Mikkel.
I thought it ill timed that the semifamous DP, close to optioning one of Thad’s books for his directorial debut, would allow the lobbying of his friend’s outrageous endorsement gambit. On second thought, maybe it was part of an overall deal the peculiar twosome had struck, and that in exchange for funding Sea Horse, Mikkel was beholden to “access Hollywood” for Henrik’s ludicrous hustles.
“Everyone in Denmark loves The Jetsons and Don Quixote,” said Mikkel. “You are — what is the phrase? — instantly recognizable.”
“We would fly you first class — maybe business,” said Henrik, elbowing Miriam as he chuckled. “No, I am kidding. It is private plane, the same we rode Jim Carrey. The taping of our fantastic commercial would take only two days, max, for a very nice amount of cash — or gold bullion!” He winked at Clea. “I kid again.”
He began a travel agent’s monologue about the splendors of Copenhagen and how everyone (we were all invited) would be shown its wonders.
Mikkel presciently changed tack. “Does Mordecai make the deal for underlying material?” he asked Miriam. “To effect the option?”
“I’ll give him a call,” she said, coolly.
“Mordy said it could be five thousand — which, frankly, Miriam, is too much!” She flinched at the DP’s familiarity. “It is an independent production, yes? No? And no one has shown interest! The book is out of print many years, yes? No? So I am asking for a little break. The room to wiggle. You can help affect that, yes? OK? It will be a showcase for the novel, of course, but I am thinking to do not so much an Adaptation like Charlie Kaufman but as a screenwriter to of course take certain liberties. I will keep the twins, yes, the drowned boy he is amazing, and Black Jack who is like Jack Palance in Contempt, no? — another Jack! — but also I wish to make myself a bit of a character in the movie. (This, the one thing I like very much about Adaptation. The rest, I was not so thrilled as everyone. But still it is a good movie, very good. I like Sofia better.) I wish to make a bit of experiment, for myself to act. I have spoken with Christopher Nolan and he excites. We potentially shoot in Denmark, for the light. You cannot find that light here, yes? The light here is amazing. I talk with Wim about this just last night. The light there is from my soul! I wish to make a ‘film blanc,’ not film noir! — this is what they called Insomnia too, did you see it? You saw it, no? We may ask Al to do a little something for Sea Horse. If his life and schedule allow. Pacino has busy, busy life! But he is amazing. He would do this for Christopher. I wish to explore what it means the tradition of a DP directing a first film. A Danish DP — like me, yes? No? — who makes film in the middle of divorce.”
“Like yourself!” said Henrik, gleefully.
“Yes, myself!”
“A Sea Horse marriage — also ‘out of print’!” said Henrik, wickedly. “A marriage that is now unfurnished.”
Mikkel laughed, ruefully. “So I was thinking more in the ‘ballpark’ of a few thousand for the option, the rest deferred. Back end. We all defer on this project.”
“We have back ends like Jennifer Lopez!”
“It is a project of love, OK? No? Just so when you talk to Mordecai.”
Miriam nodded in exasperation. We wondered how much longer the onslaught would last. Clea had literally wedged herself into Thad, to brace him.
“We can pay you with a Jack Michelet sofa!” said Henrik, nudging Thad while clapping enormous, skeletal hands. “I can tell you are a couch potato so you’ll love the design! Your daddy had eyes for things inventive but solidly built — like his women! He liked the women, yes? You are like that, no? We are all like that, even the women like the women! But in his fiction he could create a mood, an ambience. Is what he did with novels, yes? You try to do that, almost. I only read your one book, the Sea Horse. But one day you succeed across the boards! One day we have the Thad Michelet sofa, father and son furnishings!” His voice lowered and he grew serious. “The architectural look of Mr. Black Jack was colonial elegance — very much closer to Papa in Cuba. Or the Bogart Romanoff party table, have you seen? I send the Thomasville catalogue, you will love their Chesterfield table. A leather sleigh bed and amazing Bogart ‘El Morocco’ bar and stool. In our collection we have the Michelet ‘Vineyard’ divan.
“I am calling the fabric Chrysanthemum—all named after books and residences — already I am visited the best mills in China.”
1 Please forgive the small, broken promise of this final annotation. But in the rereading, “Thad still didn’t seem himself” now strikes me as presumptuous and a little arrogant. I don’t think any of us know who we are — let alone what defines others. Maybe that’s just the Culver City guru in me talking.
~ ~ ~
LATE MONDAY MORNING I LEARNED Thad awakened around 2:00 A.M. with another migraine. Clea took him to Cedars. Again, production boards were juggled so that his services weren’t needed until the following day, when the duel between Morloch and the ensign was to be staged.