Chapter 3
Next chapter good for me lol. To keep you all informed, I am currently working on revising Just Another Hollywood Story, not changing much, just cleaning it up a bit. So it may be a while before that story is updated. And thinking of putting my other one on hold as it's not getting a lot of readers.
Dao_8teh I like that. One hundred years old or a bit older sounds good. Perhaps I will have it so that she dies shortly after Dick Van Dyke, who is now 99 years old, as a joke on the last two stars of the Golden Age of Hollywood type thing. I also think 6.5 million dollars is a good number for a start off.
DaoistsMthQw I like that. The US is really only just getting out of the Great Depression and didn't honestly make a full recovery till after the war started. So it's a perfect time to start investing. I am also thinking of her owning a sports team like the Los Angeles Dodgers or the Los Angeles Angels. I am setting her up to be a big fan of sports so it fits.
Now I need to start making plans for the next movie, and while I have a few picked out, some will have to wait either till the war or after. So any suggestions?
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"Do you know how you have a hit? It's in those first few shots when the actor becomes someone else, and the script you chose to work on starts to become reality. In that moment, everything will either come together or it won't. Now I am not saying it can't come together later on in the movie, but usually it's in those first few moments. After that, you have no more worries." A Dream Come True by Ruth 'Morris Lucky' Luciano.
-1939-
-Ruth POV-
Standing across from several boards that had a detailed storyboard running across them, I stood back, making sure every detail was covered. I knew what Shane was supposed to be, what it was supposed to look like, but that didn't mean anything. While I could see it, that didn't mean others could see it. My father had taught me early on that you can't tell people what your vision is; you can only show them. How you do that is up to you.
That is where the storyboard came into play. I am not sure who originated the idea of the storyboard, but I knew that not many studios were currently using it. Most saw it as useless or pointless, from what I gather, but for me, it came naturally. When I originally wrote the script for Shane, I had already begun working on the storyboard as well. Putting it together as best I could, piece by piece, till I knew I had what I needed to show others my vision of the movie. And this wasn't just for the individual scenes either. The storyboard that was in front of me encompassed everything from scene selection to set design, and, of course, the days and times we shot each scene. All of it so I could convey with clarity what needed to be done and the best way to move forward.
Now, I was standing in front of these boards, discussing them with everyone else, and not just Raimondo, Toby, and Samuel. Our cinematographer, Loyal Griggs, and his crew were here, the guys in lighting, the actors, hell, even the guys who were going to build the set. No one was spared this meeting. I didn't want anyone to think they would have an excuse for not doing their jobs by leaving them out of this meeting. We would all know what we needed to do down to the last detail. That way, we could cover each other in case something came up.
Of course, while we would all know what needed to be done, that didn't mean everyone got it. Van Heflin and Jean Arthur didn't understand the need for it or grasp its significance. But that was okay; they didn't need to understand, as long as they followed it. Others, however, did get it right away, such as Alan and Loyal, who helped explain it to the others. Now we were only going over the final pieces.
"Alright, everyone, that is everything—any questions?" I ask with a smile.
"Yes, ma'am, I have a few questions. According to the script here. We are going to film the fight scenes first and all on the lot, right?" Alan asks just to be clear.
"That is right. These scenes are key to the whole movie. While Shane itself is a wholesome Western with clear-cut roles, the fact is that people love action, especially men and young boys, who are our target audience. That is why I have put so much thought into this portion of the storyboard. We are going to be trying some new angles to film what I hope is a more realistic fight scene. That means a lot of short takes and more than likely retakes. To help us out, Toby and some of his brothers have put together how it's to be done at his own expense." I say, pointing over at Toby, who was our casting director but now acting as our stunt coordinator. A position that I knew didn't exist in this day and time.
Everyone looks at Toby for a moment, who gives us a wink but has a clear shiner and a busted lip. He looked pretty ruffled up, but the truth was the shiner and busted lip were just another Sunday with his brothers. They were always fighting, and so he had a lot of experience with getting the shit kicked out of him.
"Okay, second question, am I going to end up looking like him?" Alan asks in jest. For this one movie, he was paid $ 10,000. What was a busted lip or a black eye in exchange?
Looking at Toby one last time, I say, "Right, Toby, take care that no one actually gets hurt. At least not too hurt, please."
"Don't worry, Ruth, I will take real good care of them, just like they were my own brothers," Toby says in jest.
"Ya, I don't think that is what she means, dip shit," Samuel says.
"Oy fuck you, Jew boy," Toby says.
"Children," I say in my best mom voice, and they stop fighting for the moment.
"Anyways, after the studio shots, we will then move on to the location. Now, thanks to Raimondo's hard work, he was actually able to find us a lovely farm to film on, owned by a wonderful Eastern family. So I expect everyone to be respectful. So, no slant-eye or chink jokes. Toby." I look at him again.
Who holds up his hands in good faith and says, "Fine, fine, fine. I get it, real sensitive types. I can do sensitive."
Now, everyone looks at him like they don't believe him.
"Oh fuck you all," He says now, sounding angry.
"Moving on, pack warmly. While we will be filming in late August, Wyoming can get pretty cold, especially at night. I don't want anyone getting sick, understand?" I ask.
"Yes, Mom," They all say, and I roll my eyes at them.
"Okay, I think that is everything unless anyone has any more questions." I say, and when no one says anything, I say, "Then I will see you all in two weeks for our first official day of filming."
Everyone starts to get up and leave the room as I turn back to the storyboard. Again, looking at it. Making sure I didn't miss anything. I didn't even notice that someone had stayed behind till I heard them speak.
"You handled them well," I hear the feminine voice of Jean say from behind me.
Looking back at our leading lady, who was sitting with her legs crossed and looking very enticing, I say, "It's not as complicated as it seems. Men may not like taking matching orders from a woman, but they will if you know how to talk to them."
Jean says nothing for a moment, looking at the young woman before her. At 18 years old, Ruth already had what many women desired and struggled to find—a quiet, but poised type of confidence. One that screamed looked at me without actually trying. But also something underneath that. A hidden that made Jean cautious around her.
Now Jean had met gangsters before. It came with the business after all, seeing as they were everywhere in Hollywood, but she had never met any of the bosses. So she had to wonder, was this what it was like around Lucky Luciano? Ruth's father was one of America's most influential mob bosses. Did she pick up some of his mannerisms? If so, Jean didn't think she ever wanted to meet the man himself.
"Still, it's impressive for a woman," Jean says.
"Oh, I don't think so. My father taught me many things when I was younger, and on the rare occasion, I got to see him at work. Now that was impressive." I say with a smile.
And wasn't that the truth? Now I never see my father get violent or threaten anyone before in all the time I spent with him. But there was always an undercurrent of fear and respect around my father from…. Well everyone. My father didn't have to be forceful or threaten people to get his way. He just listened, watched, and waited to speak, and when he did, everyone listened.
That is what made my dad scary and was what I tried to mirror, but I could never truly pull off. Call it a difference in our gender. As a woman, I couldn't just quietly intimidate men. I had to be reasonable and understanding while, at the same time, appearing as though I would bend to their will. That is when I struck and took it all. Or I have the boys go to town on whoever was in my way, but that was a last resort.
Smiling a bit causally, Jane says, "Well, he taught you well."
"That he did," I say and look back at the storyboard. "You should go and relax while you still have the chance. Work starts in two weeks."
Standing up, Jane walks over to me and says, "Of course. See you in two weeks, Ruth."
Watching her leave, I smile. Then think about how good she must look without clothes on.
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Later that night, I returned to my apartment in downtown. It was a cozy little place, not that far from the studio. Really, it's only a short cab ride away or a 30-minute walk. Walking towards the entrance, I stop for a moment to check my mail before heading up the stairs to the 2nd floor, where I open the door to my two-bedroom apartment. Walking inside, I am immediately greeted by my cat, Al. Who was given to me by my father, and whom I named after a man my father detested a lot, Al Capone.
Not that I didn't understand why, having met the man himself more than once as a little girl. The first time was on my 9th birthday, and Mr. Capone, as I called him, gave me a miniature fur coat—an excellent gift for any little girl or woman, for that matter. An overall jolly guy with a very short temper, he was more or less the complete opposite of my father. Who was more reserved in his mannerisms? I can't personally say I dislike Mr. Capone, however, especially after he invited me and my father to come down and watch the Cubs play, along with a host of my friends. That was a great day, seeing as I got to meet and get Hack Wilson's autograph on a baseball bat. Yet I could see why my father didn't like him, which was why I named my cat Al. To both annoy my father and because I actually like Mr. Capone. It went without saying that I was sad when the IRS caught up with him.
Leaning down, I scratch the back of his ears and hear him purr so cutly that I can't help but gush a bit.
"Who is a good kitty. That is right, you are a good kitty. Yes, you are." I say before he takes off, when we both hear the sound of heels making their way towards us.
Looking up, I smile even more at the gem before me. Emma Virginia Matzo, also known as Lizabeth Virginia Scott, was a woman determined to break hearts. With her long blonde hair and smoky voice, she was the wet dream of any young man or teenage boy. Or in this case, me.
I met her one day in New York while visiting my father. Feeling bored after returning to the city from visiting him in Dannemora, I made up my mind to catch a show on Broadway. That is where I met her, right outside the Martin Beck Theatre, where they were putting on a showing of Victoria Regina. To say she took my breath away the moment I saw her would be the understatement of the year. Even with her dress being several years out of fashion, she wore it like a queen, and I fell hard for her.
Having to say hello to her, I walked up to her that night and introduced myself. We got to talking, and after I found out she was there by herself that night, I invited her to join me in my box seats, where we spent the night enjoying the play. Well, she did anyway. I was too busy enjoying the view to pay too much attention to the show.
Afterwards, we went to a lovely little restaurant not far from the theatre, where we discussed a number of different subjects—ranging from the play we had just watched to the latest in Paris fashion and, of course, her desire to be an actress. I, of course, told her about my own desires, which she found strange for a woman of our time, but incredibly charming of me. Although I am pretty sure she didn't believe I could do it, but to be fair, how was she to know about my connections?
I am still not entirely sure what came over me that night, but at some point, I invited her to come live with me in LA. Here I was, some woman she had not met till that very night, and already I was inviting her to live with me. It was strange, it was dumb, and I am pretty sure she made me, but still, she said yes. Something that came as a complete surprise to me. And now here we were, 4 months later.
Looking down at me, Lizabeth, or Liz as I called her, said, "You're late, Ruth. Dinner is almost ready."
Smiling at her as I stand back up and say, "Sorry, things at the studio ran later than I thought they would."
She just gave me a look. As if weighing the decision to forgive me for my lateness or not. Till finally she says, "I guess it can't be helped. Go take a shower and change. I will have the food on the table when you're done."
"Sure, dear, but are you not forgetting something?" I question with a big grin on my face.
Looking at me with a raised eyebrow, Liz says, "No."
It is such a flat and somewhat chilling voice she uses that I feel a shiver go up my spine, but in a good way. Walking forward, I lean in closer and see a light dusting on her cheeks and say, "Are you sure?"
Not backing away even a bit, Liz does turn her face away and say, "Ruth, not now. I just came back from church."
"Ah, there was the Catholic girl coming out again," I thought to myself.
No matter how many times I did this, she gave in, and after each time, she would go to church to ask for forgiveness. You know a reasonable person would have stopped at this point. She was clearly feeling uncomfortable right now, but if I was anything, I was a bully. Maybe a bitch too. So, reaching up and touching her cheek, I make her face me and lean in closer, asking, "Sooooo?"
My voice is a bit playful and more than a bit teasing, and Liz says, "You're impossible."
Before giving me what I want and kissing me straight on the lips. A long, deep welcome home kiss. The type you would see a newly married wife give her husband. Only you know we were both women and not married. It was actually a pretty strange dynamic we had going on. Not the closet lesbianism, mind you. No, in LA, especially around Hollywood, you could toss a rock at a building and have a good shot at hitting a lesbian bar. I mean, really, whatever the moralist thought they were accomplishing was a joke. I could name six homosexual bars off the top of my head and know about them because the people who ran them were the same people with connections to the mob. Sure, women owned them, but most were run by the mob, from liquor to keeping the cops off their backs. To put it in plain words, if there was money to be made, morals didn't matter for shit.
No, the strangeness was just with us. To be blunt, Liz knew what I was the moment we met. Clearly, I wasn't very good at hiding my attraction towards the woman I was actually interested in. Yet even knowing that and having a strong Catholic upbringing, Liz still agreed to move in with me. Then one things lead to another, and where we were making out in the walkway of the apartment we now shared.
Now, it should be noted that we hadn't done much more than this despite what it may look like to others. Yes, my hands were on her hips and traveling up without protest, and Liz was currently doing her best to strangle me with her tongue. But soon enough, Liz would pull away from me. Ending things before we went too far, and sure enough, I was right when she pushed me lightly off her when my hands started to undo the back of her dress.
Breaking the kiss, I can't keep the grin off my face as I say, "Thank you, babe. I think I will go have a very cold shower now."
With a very red face now, Liz says, "You… you go do that."
Liz was trying to sound angry at me, but I knew she was watching as I walked past her and let my dress hit the ground, leaving me in lingerie that I had made myself that belonged in a far different era. I couldn't say what time, as I don't remember dates very well from my past life, but whoever came up with the idea of the thong was truly blessed. It was scandalous for the time, which is why I found it so appealing. Yes, if I got the chance, I would showcase it in my movies down the line, along with a few other interesting ideas.
After a quick shower, I come back out in a loose-fitting robe that is slightly untied. Showing off more skin than Liz was perhaps comfortable with, but again, her eyes couldn't stop watching me. Taking a seat at the small dining table, I just smiled and said, "So, are you ready for your big movie debut?"
Upon hearing this, Liz's face, which was red before, suddenly becomes a bit more icy and not without good reason, mind you. As I may have given her a reason to think she would be the star of my movie. I'm not really sure why she thought I would, but I had hinted that she could be in it, but never made it clear what the role would be. So the look I was getting now was not wholly undeserved.
"Some debut. I am only in it for a few seconds and have no lines." Liz says while pouting.
Something that I find just so sexy on her, but I shake it off. "Come on, babe, don't be like that. I said I am sorry for not casting you as the star, but it's not like I promised you the role."
Liz doesn't say anything for a moment. Mainly because there really was nothing to say. She knew that it was foolish of her to think Ruth would give her the starring role in her first film, no matter what their relationship was. It was downright stupid of her, and Liz wasn't a stupid woman. She had no experience, no audience appeal. Sure, she was attractive, but you only had to spend a few minutes in Hollywood to see that wasn't enough. Of course, she wasn't going to get the starring role, especially over someone like Jean Arthur.
Still, she was angry at Ruth, but that was primarily because of their relationship, which she was having trouble defining. Liz didn't like to think of herself as a lesbian. Her Catholic upbringing wouldn't let her. Such relationships were sinful and unholy, but even now she couldn't take her eyes off the woman sitting in front of her. There was just something about Ruth. Something more than your average person. Liz couldn't explain it, but she knew it the moment she set her eyes on Ruth. This woman was destined for bigger things than her. Maybe, just maybe, Liz would become a movie star, and perhaps she would leave a small mark in the history of show business. Ruth, however, would make history.
"I know that, but you still could have given me a bit more screen time and maybe a few lines," Liz says, but with no real heat in her voice.
"You know I can't do that, babe," I say, and for more than one reason.
It wasn't just that Liz had no experience acting in a movie. Or that I didn't trust her to deliver her line if I came up with some for her. I had no doubt she would do a great job if I gave her something bigger. The reason I didn't was the simple fact that Jean didn't like her. I could tell right away that was the case. People may not realize this, but in most movies, it is rare to see two women of equal beauty sharing the same screen space. Actresses had a very short shelf life. Everyone knew that, and while Jean was in her prime and an absolute knockout, the fact was that Liz was younger and just as, if not more, beautiful than her.
To put it simply, Jean saw Liz as a threat, despite Liz being too young for the part of Marian Starrett. There was an honest chance that if Liz appeared too long in the movie, she could upstage Jean. It was a slight chance, but it was still there, and Jean knew that. So instead of giving Liz a bigger role, I made her background where she would be seen but not heard. Just enough exposure for people to see her, but not enough to upset Jean. Something I could not afford to do.
"I know," Liz says, but she is still not happy about it as she wonders if she should have stayed in New York and tried for Broadway.
Feeling a hand touching hers, Liz closes her hand around it—a slight smile coming to her face.
"Hey, how about you help me go over my next movie after we finish eating. I think you would be perfect for the role." I say to her.
Looking at Ruth, Liz tries to hide how she liked the sound of that but fails horribly. Then looks at Ruth's lips and knew that they would be doing more than reading a script.
"God, I have to go to church again tomorrow." Liz thought to herself. While Ruth and her had yet to cross that line, it was only a matter of time. And each time they kissed, they got just a bit closer. She felt so guilty, but at the same time didn't. It was all so confusing, and confession was the only way for her to deal with it. Though even then, she didn't tell the whole truth, as she knew it wouldn't end well for her if she did.
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Two weeks later, I found myself doing one last check on everything before we began filming. While I trusted the crew to do their jobs, it never hurt to make sure everything was in place. And it had to be for today, as we were doing the fight scene in the store. Now, instead of a one-sided fight where Shane easily beat the other guy, there was nothing easy about the one I wrote. I was going for something more realistic. More of a brawl than a one-sided fight. That meant the main character, Shane, would take more than a few hits, which was the point.
Fight scenes in today's modern movies are, for lack of a better word, unappealing. They were boring, with little action and often one-sided. No one wanted to watch those fights. Not even in today's environment. What people really liked was in-your-face, hard-nose fights—one where the hero of the story struggled to win a bit. Because how do you judge how tough a man is? By the fights he struggles to win.
So, what I was aiming for was the type of fight scenes I could remember from the movies I had seen in my past life. They were action-packed and fast-paced. They captured the audience's imagination like nothing else. That is what I wanted to pull off, and that is why Toby had put in so much work. To get every move, every punch just right. If we could get this right, we would have something truly special and make movie history.
We still had to be careful, however. There was no such thing as a stunt crew in this day and age. If Alan got hurt, we could face long delays that we couldn't afford. We were already taking a risk by waiting so long to start filming as it was.
Walking up to the two men who would be doing the fight scene. I put on a big smile and said, "Well, gentlemen, we are just about ready. Are you two ready?"
Standing up a man named Jake Howard, who was going to play the role of Chris Calloway, says. "Why yes, ma'am. Mr. Ladd and I were going over everything one last time."
"Good, good," I say to the giant of a man, and he was a giant. At least when compared to me and Alan.
Standing at 6 feet 1 inch, Jake was a former professional boxer who had fallen on hard times. Moving to Hollywood in hopes of finding a job in the film industry, Toby had hired him to play the role of Chris Calloway due to his sheer size. Which we agreed had to be taller than the main character, Shane, to add some credence to the mysterious, tough guy gunslinger that he was. A gentleman by nature, however, Jake was very respectful and had little trouble taking orders from a woman, which made him the perfect man to work with.
"Jake, follow me for a moment, please," I say to him, and start to walk away.
"Yes, ma'am," Jake says as he follows me.
When we are far away from Alen, I turn around and look at Jake, but not before fixing his costume a bit like an overbearing mother would—making him blush a bit at my actions. "Jake, I just want to go over this one more time with you. Remember, while Alen is the star of this film, this scene will all come down to you. You have to carry him, understand."
Nodding his head, Jake says, "Yes, ma'am, I understand."
"Good, now remember this scene starts with him hitting you in the face, and he is actually going to hit you in the face. After you lose your footing and fall back, you get up, and you are pissed. Like, really pissed, and that is when the fighting really starts. Now we have worked out the angles, so we can use your body to shield Alen's, so it seems like you're really hitting him. However, there will be some parts where we can't do that. So, it will be up to you to judge how much force to use without hurting him."
"Don't worry, ma'am, I understand perfectly. I can take a few shots, no problem, and will make sure nothing happens to Mr. Ladd." Jake says in a reassuring voice.
"I know you can. Now let's go show the world how real men fight." I say with a smile as I make my way towards the camera.
Taking my place, I watch as the extras take their positions and the other actors who will be in the scene. Then both men enter and shake hands. Saying a few words to each other before we start. "God, they looked like a fucking David and Goliath." I thought to myself. Seeing as Alen was only about 5'7'' or 5'8'' with a lean build, while Jake was 6'1'' and built like a house. If things didn't go well, Alen could really get hurt.
Looking at my assistant director, I nod my head, and he yells, "Action."
Then Alen punches Jake hard in the face. Now, Jake was much too big to pull off that flying across the room shit that everyone else seemed to do. So I changed the script to make it so he fell back through the door due to bad footing. Making it seem more believable to those who were watching, and Jake does a great job. On that note, I also removed the scene of the woman fainting. It was stupid and pointless, as these were hard people. No woman living back then would faint from a bit of blood and a fistfight.
Anyways, Jake gets back up reasonably quickly, showing that while the punch hurt him, he was far from out of the fight. What follows is a pure choreography masterpiece of fighting. As Alen and Jake trade punches in a more realistic fight. Both are using a combination of punches, kicks, and grabs to simulate a real barroom brawl. A part of me didn't wish to call a halt as the two men were doing wonderfully, but sadly, I did after Alen turned his head too quickly at a punch from Jake during one of the close-ups.
"Cut!" I yell out, and both men, without hesitation, stop.
"Wonderful job, guys, that was nearly perfect, but let's take it from punch 23b. Alen, you turned your head too quickly." I say to him.
Nodding his head, Alen says nothing and gets back into position without complaint.
Sadly, when action is called again, he turns too quickly once more, and we have to try again. That was the tricky thing about close-up shots. It was harder to hide things like a fake punch. No matter which way you come at it, if you move even a second faster than you were supposed to, then you would have to retake the shot over and over again until you got it right. And without a professional stunt team, you're going to have an uphill battle, as was the case with Alen, who wasn't getting it right. It wasn't his fault, mind you. Alen just wasn't used to things like this, and while he wasn't scared to take a punch if need be, I was unwilling to risk our star getting hurt for the take. After all, Jake was huge and could easily knock out Alen if he wasn't careful.
"Cut," I yell again right when Alen turns his head.
"God dammit." He yelled out as we were now on take 27 and still couldn't get it right. "Ruth, fuck, just have him me already," Alen says, getting frustrated at all the takes by this point.
"Alen…." I start to say, but then he stops me.
"No, no, I can take it, Ruth. Just hit me, Jake. Come on, hit me." Alen says.
Looking over at me, Jake gives me a worried look, and I just let out a sigh. There really was no other option, so I nodded my head and set up the camera. Then yell action, and Jake, while taking a bit off of his swing, hits Alen right in the face. Snapping his head back without knocking him out, and I yell Cut.
Jake quickly checks on Alen, who, despite a busted lip and looking a bit out of it, smiles and says, "Please tell me we got that."
Later on, when people asked me how I knew I had a hit movie with Shane, I would point out this one scene where Alen was willing to take a shot to the face. Something few actors were willing to do, but he was. He proved to everyone in that one moment that he was a leader and single-handedly changed the whole feel of the studio. We still had several days left to go on the fight scenes, but from this point forward, I knew we had it. This was going to make Alen a star and Lucky Pictures a lot of money.