By Tom Wilson I co-wrote the mockumentary, They Shoot Movies, Don't They? with Frank Gallagher, and portrayed the main character, Tom Paulson. In our movie, Paulson struggles to make and sell a film titled Mirage. By the film's conclusion, Paulson is riddled with financial concerns and creative conflict, and his suicide, while implied, is not actually shown. Initially, Frank and I sent more than 80 copies of the film to publicists and distributors in Hollywood and New York. Nearly 40 companies responded. They liked it! But each time we revealed that it was just a movie, interest in the film diminished. They liked it as a documentary and were not interested in it as a movie. We never got beyond the phone calls. So we decided to send out 20 final copies. But this time, we changed strategy. We sent out the tapes with made-up press clippings - and an obituary for Tom Paulson. It was intentionally vague about whether it was a true documentary or fiction; people could believe what they wanted. The tapes shipped on a Friday, and it didn't take long for the phone to start ringing. The following Tuesday, we got the call that we'd been hoping for: Harry Clein was interested. And when Harry's colleague from the firm asked if the film was real: "It's as real as it gets," we said. Not necessarily a lie; more like a variation of the truth. But it was what we knew we had to say if we wanted Harry Clein to watch our movie. "Besides," we thought, "when we tell Clein the truth, he's going to love it even more because, after all, he's the mastermind behind the Blair Witch publicity!!!" Clein gushed over the film. He really got it. He thanked Frank and kept going on and on about how scenes were shot, the metaphors; all the things we were hoping people would get, he got. He went on for more than an hour and a half about body language in this scene, wall sconces in that scene; and he told Frank he already had people who were interested. Frank recalls, "I realized that he had been pitching and marketing our film before we even sat down face to face. He had already invested a fair amount of energy and a lot of emotion, too. He even told me he could get money for distribution. But because he was going on and on about camera angles and metaphors, I was still uncertain whether [Clein] knew if the movie was real or not." Then the answer came. Frank realized he had the "fish hooked" when Clein asked how Adele, Tom's girlfriend in the film, was handling everything. Meaning, "How did she handle the death?" "He began going into his own personal life, into his history, into his family history," Frank says. "Under the circumstances, I began to get real uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation." With that, Frank decided to tell the truth and was then just waiting for that right moment. But it would be OK, he told himself; after all, this is the Blair Witch guy, he'll get it. It wasn't long before the moment arrived. Harry's colleague began asking more detailed questions. She asked Frank about the rights and licenses to Mirage (the non-existent movie that Tom Paulson was pursuing). Frank relates, "I did alright with all her questions until she asked when Tom and I had first met. It was such a basic question but one that we did not cover in our preparation for the meeting, and I had to really think about the timing of it and how that worked with the movie, and it wasn't coming together and I could feel myself turning red." In fact, he could feel his face getting redder and redder, and then he just said, "You know what, I can't do this anymore. It's not real." "What do you mean, it's not real?" asked Clein. "It's a movie, we wrote it," replied Frank. Clein was incredulous. "There's no Tom Paulson?" said Clein. "No Tom Paulson," Frank replied. Then, simmering, "And no Adele?" "No Adele," replied Frank. "Get out." It was clear that the meeting on which we had set our sights was ending. Badly. Frank left Clein's office and wasted no time calling me for "Plan B." Plan B was as follows: Upon learning the truth, should Clein go south on us, we were to send him a nice bottle of wine and some flowers with a note showing our remorse at allowing him to be deceived. With Plan B in effect, I decided to call. "I've been promoting this film; I've put some serious work into this, and you lied to us," said Clein. "Now come over here and pick up these flowers and this damn wine... this is insulting! And while you're at it, bring me $2,500 for all the work I did." "Wait a minute," I said, "just an hour ago, you were really touched by this movie. You were touched by Tom's plight. Doesn't that matter anymore? Look at it this way, Mr.Clein, I'm alive! Doesn't that matter?!" "I don't give a damn if you're alive or not," Clein snapped back. "I'm trying to run a business here. And you lied to me." "Now wait a minute, Mr.Clein. I didn't lie," I said. "‘It's as real as it gets.' That's what I said. Come on Harry. Aren't you the Blair Witch guy? Isn't this Hollywood? Isn't this what Hollywood is all about?" It was flying fast and furious as Clein retorted, "We never lied with The Blair Witch. We never lied. Look at the poster. Four words. It says ‘Once Upon a Time!'" And with that, I left him a check for $2,500 and bid him farewell. It seems that those who pull the strings in the Hollywood Factory don't much care to have their perceptions tinkered with. Their audience on the other hand... Well, that's another story. | 
