Setting aside the ability to make quiche from scratch, I have been a man's Man my entire life. I don't use "product". I don't listen to bullshit hipster music. I don't take pain relievers. I've never gone tanning. I love sports. I love women. And I squeeze the toothpaste from the middle of the tube. Yet I've been in Hollywood less than two months and already half of that time has been spent using words like "sparkle", "twinkle", and "naughty joy" to describe and contrast the relative merits of a gaggle of impossibly attractive young men. SEE! There I go again!!! The worst part is that I don't feel the least bit dirty about it because finding the best possible actor to play Tucker is critical to the success of this film. He needs to "pop" on screen and have that "twinkle" in his eye that tells you he's filled with the type of "naughty joy" that makes you want to love him and forgive him at the same time.
On the list of things I thought I would never say in my lifetime, "naughty joy" is right up there with "World Champion Boston Red Sox" and "porn is gross." I mean, seriously, think about this: when would it ever be okay for a man's Man to insert the phrase "naughty joy" into conversation? Maybe...maybe...when he's recounting the previous night's sexual encounter with a kindergarten teacher into role-playing. NEVER when he's discussing the charisma and visual appeal of a fit, good-looking young actor auditioning to play the guy sitting next to you. Except it only gets better, because for us it doesn't stop at conversation. Sure we just watched these guys audition twenty minutes earlier, five feet away from us, but we're PRODUCERS. We can't just talk about their sparkle and naughty joy. We want...nay, we need...to see it again. So we go back to the video tape and stare intently at their eyes and smiles, making sure that the naughty joy we remembered is there on screen and, most importantly, the right amount of naughty. Not too much, not too little, but just right. Like Goldilocks and the Three Bears of Naughtiness.
That's been my Hollywood experience for the past month. Four weeks. Four dudes, one chick. Talking day after day about another man's sparkle. It's no wonder celebrity sexuality remains the primary source of grist for the Hollywood rumor mill. How could it not?
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