This Pixar Squirrel Is Killing Us

I like Jane Espenson's blog. She's got a lot of great advice and a friendly tone. Plus, she seems to enjoy lunch, an idea I can get behind.

Since Jane's been involved with series television, she's spent some entries discussing writing a spec script and getting on board a series staff as a writer. I've never given this avenue of writing much play in my plans since I live in New York and there's no such work if your name isn't Dick Wolf, but a suggestion Jane just made gave me pause. Typically, a writer will spec an existing series as a sample, and she's got a friend who's sampling out an Entourage spec.

Entourage is perhaps the greatest television series ever.

Therefore, I paused.

Why do I love Entourage so much? The writing is sharp, as sharp as any of my favorite Gilmore Girls episodes. I dig the dynamic between the five central characters, that Everyman and his Everydudes thing where even the most far-out circumstance at its base has something you can relate to through your own experiences with your ordinary, non-movie star buds. The acting is pitch-perfect, and I'm even including Debi Mazar whom I previously thought was a chronic victim of miscasting, she's never been better. The fact that it reminds me (and didn't I think I was so novel when I first thought this, only to be shocked when I read the same idea everywhere I'd read about Entourage) of a male Sex & The City, except not the entire series, only when S&TC reached its fullest potential, the seasons with Aidan and Big and Carrie and Samantha and Smith and stop me before I really get hormonal.

"Carrie likes a jazzman." Okay, that's it for the S&TC, I promise.

The biggest reason I love Entourage is how much my wife loves it. If she ever left me, the first door I'm knocking on to find her is Kevin Connolly's. The guy behind the guy IS the guy as far as she's concerned, and she's right, of course. The show is more about Eric than anyone else, he is the protagonist, and he's a great character. More or less dropped from a plane into this alien environment, he acts with honor and humility. Vince is fate personified, Turtle is determination and heart and Drama is the moron we can all be. They complete each other. Writing these four guys as four parts of the same character would be the (oversimplified) key, in my opinion.

I'd love to write a spec for Entourage, but I don't intend (repeat: intend...I'd surely not turn down the gig) to try writing for TV. So, if I did it, it would be an exercise. But I'd have fun, oh yes.

When Vince, the movie star in Entourage, finally gets his first big premiere, his movie opens against a children's movie. Ari, his agent, at one point while reviewing the East Coast matinee numbers cracks, "This Pixar squirrel is killing us." Last weekend, "Ice Age: The Meltdown" crushed---CRUSHED---all competition at the box office. For a movie to hit $70 million in three days in a time when nothing else seems able to crack $30 million is amazing. Blue Sky, the company that created "Ice Age", is based near my daygig and I frequently see their logo on the hats and shirts of the people I'm dealing with at work. One night, about six months ago, I met at work one of the bigger names there, a real animation veteran. We talked a bit and I mentioned I'd applied there a few years back for a Final Cut editing gig, and he told me the company was growing like kudzu; "Ice Age" had made a billion, "Robots" stood to make $700 million or so, "Ice Age 2" was poised to make a billion and a half. He gave me a name and a number to call. I called. I e-mailed as directed. I saw the bigwig again a week later, he said the HR guy he'd given my name to had told him that day he meant to call me back. One more call, one more e-mail and I put it behind me. Whatever. I'm not a software engineer and I'm not an animator, but I have skills and thought they could be of use. I've been on the other side of that coin, no one wants to make a call and tell some applicant they're not good enough.

I'm not bitter, but I can hold a grudge like nobody's business. I saw the numbers on television Monday morning and grunted. The Prince was sitting next to me and he grunted too.

Nuts to that freakin' squirrel. I'll do it on my own.