The Hollywood Pitch Meeting for Jared: The Motion Picture
Palms sweating. Heart pounding. Throat dry. It was my first story meeting and it was huge. I was in the room with the big guys: Jack Gnash, the head of production, plus two studio production VPs and two other writers.
Plus-plus, the attached movie star and his gnomish agent. When Clay Dingus-Faboosh, the biggest movie star in the world, entered the room, the very air was electro-charged.
I was the lowest rung on the attendance sheet and planned to act accordingly.
Once water bottles were distributed, coffee orders taken, Gnash addressed the group. “As you know, it’s dotted line, people. Rights to the Jared Kushner story, all ours” Gnash and Faboosh high-fived, then Gnash continued to the VPs and writers: “You were told to be ready, so let’s v-ball this thing.”
Of course he went to the star first. “Clay, what are your thoughts?”
Faboosh had made no secret of his desire to play Kushner. After a string of deep space vampire buddy pictures, he had the clout. And he had the look: thin frame, pale skin, pony-like facial structure, eyes dead but for a faint glimmer of arrogance plus a soupcon of imminent-explosive-diarrhea-alarm. He perfectly captured the demeanor that one historian called “haunted doll.”
Now those eyes tried to light up with enthusiasm, but failed, Kushner style. Hands up like goal posts to frame his concept: “Kushner was the point man on so many Trump administration initiatives. I’m thinking broad panorama. Globe trotting. Man of many hats, man of mystery. James Bond meets…I dunno, some super-handsome ambassador guy.”
The VPs loved it. Brilliant! So Faboosh! Box office gold! A list of Kushner’s responsibilities and assignments in the White House gushed forth: Trump had asked him to manage the pandemic response, Middle East peace, relations with Mexico and China and the Muslim community, the opioid crisis, criminal justice and veterans care reform, improving government through tech and data.
I was thinking: only someone of Trump’s breathtaking incompetence would expect any one person to handle any of this. It wasn’t just stupid. It was cynical in the extreme. Kushner had no experience in any of these fields, no proven management experience.
I checked my notes. Kushner didn’t bother with in-depth meetings or any negotiations whatsoever, he didn’t want to talk about “history” of that historic region. His “plan” for Middle East peace was to completely ignore the Palestinians. Run right over them so Trump could keep Evangelical voters in his greasy pocket.
While the movie star and VPs envisioned scenes in combat zones, embassy parties and private jets, a hot flush ran down my entire body.
I’d been in charge of research and fact checking. I assumed this Kushner project would be a comedy. A corrupt, clueless douche in over his head. Scarface meets Forrest Gump.
But no. They’re serious.
I didn’t say anything. But I did think: please don’t bring up the pandemic.
“Budget wise, that might be tough,” Gnash was saying. “All those locations. Middle East, Mexico. China. Maybe we should narrow the focus. For the spine, how about his heroic efforts during the pandemic?”
They ran through the possibilities: A horror picture to start: The infected show no symptoms at first. A deadly, invisible killer. Then…suspense. The death toll is mounting in China, it’s almost certainly creeping toward America’s shores. Our smart super-suave hero and our adviser to the president decides to –
I checked my notes, based on the true history of the time: Kushner minimized Covid-19’s importance in January of that year. The advisor to the president: do nothing. It will not reach these shores. By doing nothing throughout February and March, the damage was much, much worse than it needed to be. Trump and his administration, Kushner included, were responsible for thousands of unnecessary deaths, as well as countless and shattered lives and busted dreams through a prolonged depression.
At the far end of the conference table, Faboosh scratched his chin, giving the pandemic scenario his creative deep dive. “Contagion meets Devil Wears Prada, I like it. See what I mean? The Slim Suit Crowd!”
I groaned, couldn’t help it, no one heard me, thank god. The Slim Suit Crowd were friends Kushner enlisted to be on his Pandemic Response Team.
“So cool!” a VP was on his feet. “We can do a montage, the enlistment of the Slim Suit Crowd members. Music over it, slow motion walking to the camera, the whole deal!”
Cut to spring of that year. There’s a dire scarcity in supplies and crucial testing. Our hero is assigned to cut through the bureaucratic red tape and get those supplies to the people suffering — distributing protective gear and life-saving ventilators to hospitals. He gathers his team. Guys from venture capital, private equity and consulting firms. Guys with no experience in health care or procurement or supply chain operations. A team completely over their heads, their instinct always to network and draw on their own connections, no matter how useless.
All the Slim Suits accomplished was to disrupt the supply chain of protective gear and ventilators.
“Kind of a downer, that chapter in our history,” one of the VPs pointed out.
The room fell silent again.
“We could make it a romance,” the gnomish agent piped up. “The love story of Jared and Ivanka.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I stifled it, but that one guffaw had the whole room looking at me.
“Something funny?” Faboosh said to me, then to Gnash: “Who’s this?”
“Writer. In charge of research, fact checking. No one really.”
“I’d like to hear what’s funny,” Faboosh said, his face a rictus of simmering spite.
All eyes were on me. I had to speak. I did so, slowly: “I just think that as a love story, it’s creepy. Daughter marrying a guy just like her dad, dad gross about his daughter. I mean, you have the weird similarities between Trump and Kushner, character-wise. Both are arrogant, ignorant, corrupt and greedy.”
Faboosh flinched, Gnash huffed, the others stirred but now I was really going:
“They both came from money but both like to pretend they’re self-made. They both lie, have inflated sense of their own expertise and smarts. They both have records as bullying cheating landlords of low income housing, exploiting legal and tax law loopholes to an almost criminal degree. Mercenary. Blinded by privilege. Trump’s dad was a racist dick and Kushner’s was a convicted criminal. Then you got Trump’s comments about Ivanka.” I checked my notes. “Just a few, verbatim: ‘Don’t you think my daughter’s hot? She’s hot, right?’ Called her voluptuous, and a piece of ass. Said if she wasn’t his daughter, ‘perhaps [he’d] be dating her’.”
Gnash picked up the phone. I kept going: “Kushner, the hero. Let’s see,” I was on my feet now. Pretty sure I was yelling. I smacked the pages of my notes as I ticked off points: “Was rejected by Harvard until his dad donated 2.5 million. Not particularly smart. Lousy work ethic. Name dropper, networker, suck up. His first major league Manhattan real estate deal? Complete bust, overpaid, lost millions, couldn’t sell it. Only got out of it after Daddy Don won the election. How? First, little Jared got White House security clearance, even though the intelligence community opposed it. Then Jared and his dad (convicted of tax fraud, extortion, hired prostitutes, fun stuff, make a good movie!) held illegal secret meetings with foreign nationals. With some help from Trump’s State Department, presto, a buyer shows up with a ridiculously generous offer. Some state secrets may have been disclosed, but you know…business! A company he co-founded received over 90 million in financing from foreign entities, channeled through offshore companies. Illegal. He lied about his involvement to the Office of Government Ethics. Illegal. He was present at the Trump Tower meeting where Russian operatives offered dirt on Hillary Clinton. Illegal! Failed to notify the FBI about the meeting. Illegal! I love this movie! Let’s greenlight this fucker!”
I had no idea when I’d started shouting. I didn’t realize I’d leaped on the table until the security guards pulled me down.
They did escort me from the building.
And into the back of an SUV.
I’ve been in this Re-Education Center ever since. They don’t let us watch movies.
Nuance Cubed 