Words to Live By

Friday, July 8, 2005

Page 11

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Words to Live By

By J’AMY PACHECO

I recently read a newspaper article that described an intriguing perk of “A-List” personalities in Hollywood: the personal screenwriter.

A personal screenwriter, I read, is a writer who is brought in at the request of a particular star or director to review — and where deemed necessary — rewrite dialogue.

As I understand it, these A-listers are able to bring in a particular writer who they know and trust to modify a project’s script to their benefit. I assume this perk is utilized by movie stars in order to make their characters come across as funnier, smarter or just plan cooler than they initially appear. Because when you’re a movie star, nothing is more important than appearing funny, smart and cool — except being photographed vacationing with Brad Pitt, of course.

It occurred to me that having a personal screenwriter might be a helpful thing.

I realize I’m not a movie star or director. I am painfully aware that when it comes to lists, my name’s probably at the bottom of the one headed “Z,” or missing entirely. But there have been many, many instances in my ordinary, list-less life where I could have used someone to pre-write my dialogue.

For example, a female acquaintance recently posed this question:

“Do you think my hair would look better if I cut it short?”

My spontaneous reply: “No, worse.”

For some reason, she became defensive. “Are you saying it looks bad now?” she demanded.

It took a while for me to explain that my off-the-cuff remark wasn’t intended to convey a negative impression of her current hairdo, but was a natural response to the “better” element of her question — and that I’d probably have answered more appropriately if I’d actually been paying attention to her.

That went over really well.

If I’d had my own personal screenwriter, I would have said something like this: “I think it would look pretty, but not as pretty as it looks now.”

Unfortunately, that’s not how it happened. Yikes.

I could also use a personal screenwriter to help with snappy comebacks. My brother, Kevin, is an expert with snappy comebacks. He used to make our mother crazy with his ability to instantly compose a deadpan response to almost any situation.

When we were teenagers, for example, we had to sit through an almost unbearable dinner party with an unusually conceited family. My siblings and I suffered through the event in relative silence, until our mother noticed and pointed out that we were usually more animated.

“We’re just waiting for the drugs to take effect,” Kevin said instantly, to our mother’s horror. I should point out that we were good kids — not a drug user among us. But we found the remark hysterically funny, and Kevin was immediately elevated to the rank of Master of the Snappy Comeback — a title he still holds today.

I’m okay with comebacks; unfortunately, the snappy part just isn’t happening for me. Comebacks usually occur to me long after the moment of relevance — like, while I’m brushing my teeth four months, two days and seven hours after I needed it.

I can only remember one snappy comeback I succeeded with. I got into a mild disagreement with a much older co-worker who had a gift for annoying those around her — especially me. At one point in the argument, she said, “I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck.”

Without hesitation (or anything remotely resembling good manners) I replied: “I’m guessing you were pushed.”

I remember this distinctly because it is the only time I can remember verbally besting an opponent. It was in 1979, and I haven’t had been able to quickly think up a good comeback since.

Having a personal dialogue writer would be quite valuable in those instances where I’m rendered speechless, or when I have trouble saying, “No.”

I suspect my conversation would be more interesting if I had a personal screenwriter. I could say things like, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” and sound not only original, but profound.

That line, incidentally, was recently ranked as the number one movie quote of all time by the American Film Institute — and it was written by a screenwriter. No doubt about it — having my own personal screenwriter would be very cool.

And, come to think of it, so would I.