Simon pushed the Hollywood Reporter in his hand toward Katherine, smiling. "Soone actually paired Jack Nicholson and ryl Streep for a romantic cody—the guy who made that call is a real 'genius'."
Hearing Simon's sarcastic tone, Katherine imagined Jack Nicholson and ryl Streep flirting and found it inexplicably absurd.
Curious, she pulled the paper over and saw Simon had been reading an article about Paramount Pictures' upcoming VHS release of Heartburn.
Heartburn was a romantic cody starring Jack Nicholson and ryl Streep, released in the sumr. With a $20 million budget, it only grossed $25 million—to recoup funds quickly, Paramount planned a late November VHS drop.
The Hollywood Reporter piece gave a brief review of Heartburn before diving into the industry's hot topic: the theatrical window.
Skimming the news, Katherine noticed Simon's mark was on a na casually ntioned in the article.
It was the screenwriter for Heartburn, nad Nora Ephron.
Looking up again, Katherine asked curiously, "Simon, what's with Nora Ephron?"
Simon finished his remaining milk, set down the glass. "I read a review of Heartburn months ago and got interested in the plot. So if the chance cos up, maybe I could collaborate with her."
Nora Ephron might not be widely known, but ntion Sleepless in Seattle, and it's instantly recognizable.
Nora Ephron was the director and writer of Sleepless in Seattle.
Of course, that film didn't exist yet. And among her works, Simon's favorite wasn't Sleepless in Seattle, but another slightly less famous one called When Harry t Sally.
Simon had always felt When Harry t Sally was the peak of Nora Ephron's rom-coms.
Coincidentally, When Harry t Sally was due out in the next few years; Simon had just been wondering if he could snag it, hence marking Nora Ephron's na.
But he couldn't explain that to Katherine, so he tossed off a quip.
Anyway, casting Jack Nicholson and ryl Streep in a rom-com was pretty wild.
From the cast, it was clearly another CAA packaging deal.
Katherine sensed Simon's holding back but didn't press. She actually agreed with Janet—the kid's head was full of secrets no one knew.
Thinking of Janet brought last night's bedroom scene to mind; glancing at Simon, who'd finished breakfast, her thoughts scattered. She quickly looked down, picking up her knife and fork to poke at a fried egg.
Simon cleared his dishes. "Katherine, take your ti—I'll head to the Fox lot first."
Katherine mumbled agreent, noticing his action. "Simon, I'll clean up later—anyway, um, there's Janet's too."
Simon nodded with a smile. "Sure."
With that, he still carried his dishes to the kitchen sink before heading out.
Katherine saw him leave the dining room, thought a mont, set down her utensils, and followed.
It was November; even in ever-spring-like L.A., the weather had a chill.
Simon grabbed his coat from the rack; Katherine, trailing him, naturally took it, held it open to help him into it, and even straightened a rolled collar. Simon smiled, letting her fuss, then shouldered his bag and looked at Katherine in her wine-red turtleneck. "So, see you."
Katherine felt his probing, hopeful gaze; Janet's sparkling eyes flashed in her mind. She stepped back slightly, pretending to check his outfit, smiling casually. "See you."
Simon didn't push, nodded, and left through the door.
To ensure ample post-production ti, Simon's routine this past month was weekdays shooting, weekends rough-cutting dailies, evenings planning shoots, and squeezing in so scoring.
Lola Run was two-thirds done; all footage up to Lola's first run was complete. His weekend focus had been rough-cutting the first run sequence.
Film editing evolved in a mini-cycle: nonlinear to linear back to nonlinear.
Early editing was direct on film stock.
Editors could freely cut, trim, replace—nonlinear.
But that primitive nonlinear work was imnse.
For a film with 10 hours of footage, the film length wasn't ters but 20 kiloters. Imagine editing a movie from dozens of kiloters of film—what a ss.
Then linear editing freed editors from film reels.
It worked by recording film shots to videotape, then dubbing per the edit plan to another tape.
This slashed workload and was WYSIWYG, with instant monitoring, so it caught on fast.
But linear's flaws were glaring. Editors could only sequence linearly on tape; flexible ops were just equal-length inserts. Deleting, trimming, or unequal swaps on finished edits? Impossible.
Like audio cassettes: a five-minute song, hit record and howl over it to replace, but it's still five minutes. Shorten to four-and-a-half? Recompose and rerecord.
Post-linear, advanced nonlinear erged in the late '80s.
Digitize film footage, then software-edit like primitive manual nonlinear.
Note: in film era, whether manual, linear, or digital nonlinear, all were just editing thods. After editing, scoring, etc., you'd still manually cut the original negative per final cut for theatrical prints.
In 1986, digital nonlinear was just budding, tech immature; Simon used Fox's linear machines for Lola Run post.
Though he'd never touched linear editing in his past life, other mories had; he hired an assistant first weekend to familiarize with Fox's gear, then worked solo these weeks.
Any era, editing tested patience—a lonely job.
Fox's linear equipnt charged hourly; Simon hated wasting ti.
Arriving at Fox, he sat at the console, staring at two old CRT monitors, the machine's clacking hum; before he knew it, morning was gone.
Only when staff reminded him did he snap out of focus, rembering yesterday's noon interview with the LA Tis reporter.
Rushing to Fox's main gate, Peter Butler had waited a bit; apologetic greetings, Simon skipped touring the lot and picked a restaurant across the street.
Seated, lunch ordered, Peter Butler set a recorder on the table, tone casually familiar. "So, working on the weekend?"
"Yeah," Simon nodded. "You too?"
Peter Butler smiled. "Looks like we have that in common—good start."
Simon smiled back. "Speaking of, Peter, why the interest in ? For the LA Tis, I'm just a nobody, right?"
Peter Butler shrugged. "Actually, at the LA Tis, I'm a nobody too. Interviewing Spielberg? Not my gig."
"I get it—another thing in common."
"Too bad no booze, or we'd toast," Peter Butler chuckled, then continued. "But honestly, Simon, I don't see you as a nobody at all."
Simon just smiled.
Peter Butler went on anyway. "I did so digging on you. You arrived in L.A. around June, then as a newbie, surprisingly got signed by WMA VP Jonathan Friedman—as his only screenwriter client. Then WMA's internal shake-up—tied to you too. Right after, that July end incident in Santa Monica—papers barely touched it, but I know just at the LA Tis, we spiked two pieces digging into it. And your $200K Fox script deal—Simon, even counting WGA mbers, average Hollywood writer salary's under $20K a year. Then, less than half a year in Hollywood, you're directing your first film, Lola Run. Even more surprising, Hollywood heavyweights Brian De Palma, David Giler, and Robert Redford all offering to exec produce—that's rare in Hollywood. So Simon, from any angle, you're no nobody. Nobodies don't pull that off."
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