Bruce Wagner - I’m Losing You

Maps to the Stars

Work at Century City’s BAILEY’S TWENTY/20 GENTLEMEN’S CLUB is good, clean fun!! And yes, dearest Diary, I AM keeping it from Mom because it would HURT, needlessly so — NO WAY would she understand this is merely a fuel stop on the road to the proverbial pot o’ gold. {Unfortunately, she’d consider the whole event to be a very large, very PROMINENT billboard on that road — a PERMANENT one at that!} Here’s the interesting part {to ME, anyway}: I’m a better performer {that way, on stage} than I ever imagined. The first few days I took a mild tranquilizer—“Zanax,” I believe. Who is it that sits around and gives drugs their funny names? — which JABBA gave me because I was MAJORLY nervous and afraid to drink, in case it would show. Now I’m at my ease. You know, there’s nothing really SEXY about it, CERTAINLY not the classic image I had of the “live nude” dancer. The appreciative crowd is well heeled and well behaved — it’s a “Gentlemen’s club” after all. We do lap dancing {a SERIOUS tease} and the Gentlemen have for the most part been respectful. {If they get frisky, you just have to work around it {{and I DO mean AROUND it!!!}} } Gratuities are good {BIG TIPS abound!! Close your ears, Diary}. On off days, Jabba and I try out routines. This week I danced to ANNIE LENNOX, BJØRK and R.E.M. I try to do something a little DIFFERENT — instead of the girls who use “Proud Mary” or “Purple Rain” {although “When Doves Cry” is a personal fave}.

Ursula’s dancing here now {!!!} and we got past our rough spot and have become friends. We DO seem to have lots in common {Donny Ribkin notwithstanding. I think she’s still in love with him. Somehow he doesn’t come up; a topic I think she’d rather avoid {{I, myself, wonder what “The Donnie” is up to}} }. EXCEPT that my father wasn’t a shit Marine bastard. The terrible things people do to their children! {SIGH} Ursula and I talk about how we’d like to write a script together, a REAL one about dancers, something that is true and NOT tawdry like SHOWGIRLS {CIRCA 1995}, for a woman to direct. {We’re supposed to go see JANIE WONG {{CIRCA 1995}} tonight, to feel the director out {{a woman}}.} I plan to write a role for myself and LAURA DERN. LAURA’s the type of girl I grew up with: excelling in school, with no more ambition than to be a court stenographer. That’s why the IDEA of LAURA is so important: because wonderful things can happen {and DO} to ANY of us. There’s probably a thousand people out there who knew her back then and now kick themselves, wishing they had her life. SUCH interesting choices: SMOOTH TALK {CIRCA 1985} and those strange LYNCH films {I might have been a little more discerning, but in the career long view, of course, LAURA was wise}; RAMBLING ROSE {CIRCA 1991} and, of course, JURASSIC PARK {CIRCA 1993} which INSTANTLY placed her among a select PANTHEON: that of the BILLION-DOLLAR FILM. {I can’t help thinking what a wonderful 1–2 punch it would have been if STEVEN would have let her play a victim in SCHINDLER’S LIST {{CIRCA 1994}} }. LAURA’S a dark horse who has triumphed, her triumph perhaps greater because she doesn’t have MICHELLE or JODIE’S proverbial looks. For example, her face becomes gargoyle-like when she cries but that is something that — in the long view — helps, I think, with ACADEMY AWARD NOMINATIONS. She’ll never be a “beauty,” yet when one reaches a certain Level, all’s forgiven — God merely amends the Beauty Book, redistributing it to the public so that not only are one’s physical flaws glossed over but they are actually made into new “standards” as part of one’s reinvention. SANDRA BULLOCK and her interesting body, case in point. One wakes up one day and says to oneself, “Well — but…she was ALWAYS beautiful — why couldn’t I SEE??” BECAUSE THEY ARE MOVIE STARS, ALL MOVIE STARS ARE ESTHETICALLY BEAUTIFUL, whether “conventional” or Classic. {I’m HOPING that is true, for my time is soon to come!}. This, I think, has become a rule of thumb. LAURA has further triumphed because of a Mom {DIANE LADD} who I am sure adores her even though she strikes me as a bit of a competitive/crazy — I’d LOVE to be proven wrong. {I myself would opt for the relationship JENNIFER JASON LEIGH has with hers — from out of which came GEORGIA {{CIRCA 1995}}.} Moms are hard enough AS IS, so again, hats off to LAURA D! Dad’s {BRUCE DERN} a professional runner, moody, someone probably off doing his own thing a lot when not brooding on career tailspin. {I don’t know why, but I’m thinking of the sensuous MADELEINE STOWE, who reminds me of MARLEE. I always wanted to see CLOSET LAND {{CIRCA 1990}—I’ll tell Ursula to ask if Blockbuster has it when she picks up EXOTICA {{CIRCA 1995}} {{EXOTICA takes place in a strip club — we’re viewing it as part of our Research}}. I saw MADELEINE’s hands in close-up in a VOGUE once and they were large and unwieldy — her worst feature.}

Sight Unseen

…they wanted me to postpone but I went to the hospital anyway. “I’m going through with the divorce.” He cried and I felt nothing. (His stroke was mild and the doctors say recovery will be complete.) Holly, what an empty, monstrous feeling that is you can’t imagine. He isn’t anyone I remember being wooed or loved by, or marrying, or dreaming dreams with. Honoring and obeying…

I wanted to thank you— we thank you for the gift of these last weeks in the sanctuary of your home (Samson and I play Sea Hunt in the pool every day in front of the angel-grotto. I call him Lloyd Little Britches). I’m absolutely delirious about Vidra’s offer; we will make a beautiful book. It was lovely to meet her, though she isn’t in the best frame — but I guess you know all about her breakup. Small world, isn’t it? And Teorema was such a wonderful project…

We’re going to stay in town awhile, until affairs are in order — a lump settlement is in the works. I don’t want our future pending on the vicissitudes of this man. Until all’s quiet on the medical/legal front, Samson & Co. may be cordially reached at the Bel Air Radisson (the people at the desk treat me royally — they think I’m an owner!) Call me! Kisses to you and your Polish Prince.

*** The THIEF of ENERGY

A dream last night: I was going to lie in wait for Jeremy Stein but Darren Star intervened. ‘It has been true all along,’ he said, looking like the famed Minotaur of old, ‘that you have been terribly wronged. But my child the time for vengeance has not yet come. Jeremy was involved,’ he added, ‘tho not at the level you think. You have done well in taking his energy but now must save yourself for the internecine struggle ahead. In time, the pupil will outshine the teacher.’ I felt a warmth toward Darren I never imagined conceivable. Spontaneously, we floated above the sidewalk outside Philippe Starck’s Hotel Royalton, site of the inaugural party for Central Park West . Mariel Hemingway’s arm hooked in mine — how beautiful she looked. ‘Gina, let it go!’ she informed. We were suddenly high above the city where the lights shone with individual brilliance and myriad lives played out their destinies amid apocryphal opulence and squalor. We strode on wisps of cloud above the Brooklyn Bridge — traversing the stars, a miracle of joy. As we circumnavigated the glowing Xanadu of the Hamptons below, I began to weep large, perfectly formed tears that resembled diamond pendants. ‘It is your father, Gina!’ Mariel said. ‘It is him who has stolen from you and him you must defeat. We will help you. But the battle is not here, Gina! The battle will be elsewhere.’