Speaking Truth To Hollywood. Or Not.

What you’re about to read is a true story.

I just got a phone call from an old friend of mine. He was calling from a bar in Puerto Rico, and asked what I knew about director Stephen Soderberg. “Why?” I asked. “You in some kind of trivia contest?”

“No,” my friend said. “He’s three seats away from me at the bar. You go to more movies than anybody else I know, so what could I ask the dude about?”

“Oh,” I said, and proceeded to rack my brains. Then it hit me. “The first thing he ever did was a Yes concert movie. Ask him how the hell you can get somebody as tall as Chris Squire and as short as Jon Anderson in the same shot.”

“That’s pretty good,” my friend said. “But get this. He’s down here making a movie about Che Guevara.”

There was a pause. Finally I said, “Forget the Yes question. Ask him whether the movie is going to show any of the concentration camps that murderous son of a bitch set up for Castro.”

I could practically hear my friend nod through the phone, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s the movie they’re making. Sounds from here like it’s pretty reverential.” He paused himself. “Now that I think about it, I don’t want to ask the guy any questions. Don’t want to talk to him at all, actually.”

“Good call,” I said. “Have a nice time down there.”

“Yep, see you later.”