Actors Anonymous by James Franco Read Free Book Online

Bree. Then her roommate came in.
    “You better get the fuck out of here,” the roommate said. “I just called the police.” She looked like hell with her curly hair sticking out all over the place.
    “The police? What the fuck, what? I’m just…”
    “Get the fuck out of here, Jerry,” said the ugly roommate. “I’m serious.”
    I turned back to Bree. “Bree, you’re not scared, are you?”
    “Jerry, go,” said Bree. She couldn’t even look at me.
    The roommate said, “You broke the rules, motherfucker. Now get the fuck out of here.
Now
.”
    I stared at the frizzy-haired roommate for a long time. She stared back, real hard.
    “Don’t you know who I’m going to be?” I said.
    “I don’t care if you’re JFK,” she said. “If you don’t get out of here I’m going to tell the cops to shoot you.”
    I walked out of the room, then through the dark living room. I unlocked the front door, which was difficult in the dark. I took my time. I didn’t care if the cops got me. Maybe they would shoot me and all would be better.
    “Get out, moron!” said the roommate. And then the door was open and I was outside. It was cold again and when I closed the door behind me I knew my life was over.
    In class that week we did an improvisation for our scene from
Sexual Perversity in Chicago
by David Mamet. I was too young for the role, but it was a cool scene about picking up girls. I did it with my scene partner, Ben, the bartender in real life:
    “So, last night, how’d it go?” he said.
    “Sheeeit.”
    “Wha?”
    “I said, ‘sheeeeeeit.’”
    “I heard you. For real?”
    “For double fucking real.”
    “Don’t bullshit,” he said.
    “No bullshit.”
    “So tell me. And no bullshit.”
    “So tits like melons, no bullshit.”
    “No shit?”
    “No shit, and an ass—momma.”
    “A momma ass?”
    “No, an ass like butter. An ass like candy.”
    “An ass like
that?”
    “An ass like an onion, bring a tear to your eye.”
    “Holy…”
    “Holy fucking shit is right. And young.”
    “Like…”
    “Like eighteen, twenty.”
    “Motha-fucka.”
    “What?”
    “MOTHA-fucka! You’re a beast.”
    “Sheeeeit, you think she’s a virgin?”
    “Ain’t no virgin, hungh?”
    “Puleeeeease.”
    “Little slut, hungh?”
    “Are you fucking kidding me?”
    “Big slut?”
    “Sheeeeeit, her fucking
name
was Slut. Slut Mackenzie.”
    The scene went on. Bree wasn’t there. I didn’t think about her or anyone else. There was no use.

STEP 3
Turned our will and our “performances” over to the Great Director.

    The Great Director
    T HAT ’ S THE BIG QUESTION : Who is the Great Director?
    If you want, I will be your director.
    But if you don’t want me, then you need to realize that there is always a director. Even when you’re a director, there is a director of the director.
    Directors nowadays are trying to serve the public taste. The taste is changing. As it always does, and the directors and studios try to cater to that taste.
    Movies are dying, right?
    But they’ve always been dying. When were they not dying?
    Movies still make tons of money.
    Video games, Internet, YouTube, shit like that. It’s taking over. But television was the same way when it came around.
    Movies. I guess that’s what we’re talking about. Movies. But when we think of movies, we think in terms of feature-length films: ninety minutes to three hours. That’s how we conceptualize movies.
    What about the movie of your entire life? Boring or exciting? Good scenes?
    In the movie of your entire life, do you want drama and conflict or a straight shot to the top, unencumbered?
    In the movie of your entire life, is there a soundtrack? It must change over the years, yes?
    How about the cast of players? That changes too? A great big cast, yes? I hope so. I hope there are some good actors in there.
    Now, in the movie of your entire life, do you want to be happy? That’s not that interesting for other people to watch. Just