You need to live in L.A. to succed as a screenwriter!
When I get asked the question, “Do I have to move to Los Angeles to make it in the movie business,” I say no, you do not need to to move to L.A. to succeed as a screenwriter. Since it’s pretty much all about your script and you can write anywhere, it is entirely possible to be discovered living and writing elsewhere.
However things can and do happen in Los Angeles. Very special, even magical things. It’s a weird, wondrous and wild place where at any moment, you may intersect with someone who can change your life. And that potential makes a strong case for relocating to L.A. to purse your screenwriting goals.
Such was the case with writer Mike Le. I have known Mike through online connections since 2008. And he has an amazing story about Owen Wilson… well, check it out after the jump:
From Mike:
It was the tail end of 1997. I had just moved to Los Angeles from Florida. I didn’t know a single soul in LA, didn’t know anything about the movie business or even how to get a job in it. I was simply armed with only my greenness, eagerness, and the intoxication of wanting to make movies.
So of course, the very first job I got was working at the Blockbuster Video on Sunset Blvd. I was there for no more than 3–4 months when Owen Wilson walks in with Sheryl Crow, who he was seriously dating at the time. Owen Wilson was not quite Owen Wilson then. I only recognized him because I had recently watched BOTTLE ROCKET on video. As Sheryl Crow’s presence caused a buzz amongst the customers in the store, Owen approached the counter I was working behind.
“I’m looking for 2 movies,” he said. “SMOKE and THE PRODUCERS.”
“Sure thing,” I said. “PRODUCERS is in the Comedy section in the third aisle in the corner, and SMOKE is in Drama at the opposite end next to the video games.”
Owen paused, and gave me a curious look. Then he asked, “How’d you know off the top of your head like that?”
“I just have a good mind for names, titles, and concepts.” I answered.
“Interesting,” he replied. The curious look furrowed his brow even more as he walked away to collect the movies I pointed out to him. I returned to organizing the return tapes as I watched in the corner of my eye a group of girls soliciting Sheryl Crow for an autograph. When I turned to the look at the counter, Owen was back with his movies in hands.
“You interested in filmmaking?” He asked me.
“Yeah. I just moved here…I want to write.”
“Interesting,” he said again.
He gestured for Sheryl to come over to the counter so she could give me her Blockbuster card. She did, and I rented the movies out to them. They left the store, and that was extent of my first conversation with Owen Wilson.
The next day I was back at work. I was with a customer when one of my fellow employees, Chris, came over and said, “You got a phone call.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
Chris shrugged, picked up the phone and asked into it, “Who’s calling?” A pause, then Chris turns to me and said, “Some guy named Owen.”
I was genuinely confused because never in a million years would I think Owen Wilson would call me and specifically ask for me. I thought it was just some disgruntled customer looking to complain about something, so I kept him on hold for awhile.
Finally, I picked up the phone and said, “This is Mike.”
“Hi, this is Owen.” The voice responded.
“Owen?”
“Yeah, I came in with my girlfriend yesterday.”
“Owen the actor?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh hey,” I said, surprised. “How can I help you?”
“Would you like to be my assistant?”
“What?”
“You wouldn’t just work for me of course. You’d be working with Wes and my brother Luke too.”
“As an assistant?”
“Yeah.”
I paused, letting it sink in. “Sure, that would be great.”
“Let’s meet up at the Jamba Juice at Larchmont tomorrow at noon and talk about everything.”
“Okay.”
I hung up, staring at the phone. Chris and my manager notices something’s wrong with me.
“What was that all about?” Chris asked me.
I looked up at them and said, “I quit.”
The next day, before the meeting with Owen, I ran my car through the automated car wash at a Shell gas station. In my nervousness and excitement, I completely forgot to turn off my radio. So I sat helplessly in the wash as I watched the machine bend my antenna. After the wash, I stepped out of my car to try and fix it, but it was contorted beyond repair, barely hanging off the side of my vehicle. So I snapped it off with my hand and threw the antenna into my passenger seat.
The first time I had Jamba Juice I sat across from Owen Wilson. He had his regular Coldbuster with extra peaches and the Vita-boost. I had a lemonade because I had no idea what to order from the menu. He asked about my family and I asked him about his. I immediately noticed he had a gentle way about him, quirky and introspective in the most non-threatening way. I don’t recall how it came about, but we ended up talking about STAR WARS, and I told him how I hated RETURN OF THE JEDI. He asked me why, and I explained my reasoning by reciting a Shakespeare quote that he found so profound he would ask me several times throughout our relationship to remind him of it. He then caught me up on where his career was at the moment: RUSHMORE, a movie he co-wrote with Wes Anderson was about to be released in a few months and he was about to star in a THE HAUNTING. He then briefly told me what to expect from the job as his assistant.
“As long as I don’t have to drive a lot,” I naively said.
Owen froze for a second, sipped on his Coldbuster, then said in his usual dead-pan way, “It’ll probably require some driving.”
“I guess I can do that.”
“Let’s go meet Sheryl.”
As we left Jamba Juice, I led Owen to my car. Apparently, Sheryl Crow had dropped him off and now, ironically enough, my first job was to drive him back to her place. Not being an assistant before this moment, I wasn’t sure of all the protocols. I awkwardly rushed over and opened the passenger side door for him. I then noticed the broken antenna in the seat. Embarrassed, I reached in and threw it into the backseat. Owen awkwardly thanked me and climbed in. I rushed around and got into the driver seat. As I started the car, I said to him, “Uh…do you want me to open the door for you like that?”
“No, it’s okay,” he mumbled.
That’s how my Hollywood experience started. The rest of the story, the meat of it, the juicy bits, I cannot write about. That is the code of the Hollywood assistant, to never share the private side of his/her boss’ life. I will say, however, that it was an amazing experience working for him, Wes and Luke. I met a lot of cool people, saw a lot of cool things. I’m one of the few lucky enough to actually observe Wes and Owen write together (specifically at the time, their Oscar-nominated THE ROYAL TENNENBAUMS).
Owen and I eventually parted ways a few years later when I sold a script. Looking back, I have much to thank him for.
Look, I can’t guarantee if you move to L.A. you will end up some movie star’s assistant. But this stuff happens! And Mike Le is living proof of it.
Mike Le adapted the novel TOKYO SUCKERPUNCH for Fox Searchlight. The project is currently at Sony with Tobey Maguire attached to star and produce. Mike has also created and executive produced reality shows for BET and the E! Network, wrote the bestselling comic book MAYHEM for Image Comics, is the pop culture critic for Geekweek.com, and is the producing partner of actor Tyrese Gibson. He is also the creator of Don’t Forget to Validate Your Parking, a humorous comic book look at life in the City of Angels.
Note: I have a counterpoint to the argument that you need to live in L.A. to succeed as a screenwriter. That post coming up next.
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