There’s nothing a man can do, that I can’t do better and in heels.
So said Ginger Rogers, and thus begins chapter 17.
There are so many myths on which the reality of Hollywood is based. Some are funny and fun, some are sad, and some are desperate. I knew that success, no matter how it came, was the one thing everyone remembered. Consider this, around the time I had become a producer so had a young fellow that happened to have a way with finicky animals. Titans of the industry relied on him to run errands and walk their dogs, and as luck would have it he was nearing completion on a film that featured whales, dinosaurs, or comic book heroes — it’s hard to remember the particulars. Two years earlier another up-and-comer had answered phones for a he-man actor who had a production deal at one of the majors with offices off the lot. This amiable youngster was biddable, sweet, and built. The actor had a penchant for youths of that nature, and when he discovered the dulcet voiced Adonis was sleeping in his car he invited him to take up residence in his offices — a couch became his bed; he showered at the gym, and within six months he-man and Adonis were in production on a best-selling book turned sizzling screenplay turned box office dynamo.
And the comments are open.
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