The Quentin In Question

 Hello everybody, before I start, just a little update; the script that I submitted to Wiki: The World's Fastest Screenplay Contest had entered the quarter finals and has since been labelled as an Honourable Mention. So my next step shall be to try and get the script submitted to a film production company.

As some readers may know, a few months ago, I achieved a masters degree in Creative Writing. Through my early posts, I mentioned that I mostly write film scripts. That being said, each of us had to write an essay about meeting one of our favourite writers. It was pretty much more like a story than an essay and the project itself didn't exactly have to be true. Some of us eventually made up our stories. 

I originally thought about writing about how I met Shane Rimmer at the National Space Centre in Leicester, but it was hard to think about what to write around it. Eventually I decided to eventually write about how I "met Quentin Tarantino" instead. Just to point out that this is entirely fictional. But in the end, fictional writers do have to use their imagination sometimes. Before you read this essay, I must warn readers that this piece does contain some profanities. But in the meantime, this is what I wrote. Enjoy!

Quentin Jerome Tarantino has become one of the most influential film-makers with a career spanning for over two and a half decades. Although mostly remembered as a director, Quentin’s roles also range from acting, editing and even writing.

As a child, Quentin was introduced to numerous adult and violent movies by his family and through his jobs in a video shop and a porn theatre. Those experiences and his classes in acting and screenwriting led him to take a career in the film industry and he wrote his very first screenplay, Captain Peachfuzz and The Anchovy Bandit, based on the 70s film Smokey and The Bandit, at the age of fifteen. But it wasn’t until the late 80s after he met Lawrence Bender when one of his next screenplays, My Best Friend’s Birthday, went into production. This also proved to be his directorial and editorial debut. Sometime later, he wrote True Romance which was released in 1993 and directed by Tony Scott. 

Later, Quentin wrote a script for a gangster drama, based on a crime mob whose scheme to rob some jewellery goes awry. Harvey Keitel’s then wife, Lorraine Bracco, took an interest in the script, passing it on to Harvey and thus was born his next directorial feature, Reservoir Dogs, and a box office success, with an estimated budget of one million dollars and generating just over two million dollars. Two years later, Quentin’s next film, Pulp Fiction, became an instant blockbuster spawning over two hundred million dollars. Quentin’s other writing credits include Natural Born Killers, Jackie Brown, the Kill Bill series, Inglorious Basterds and some episodes of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, many of which he also directed. His most recent writing credit is Once Upon A Time In Hollywood. The film is scheduled for release around mid-2019.

Quentin knew that one day, aside from generating money through films, he’d generate fans too. Just recently, he met one at a convention which took place in London; a fan, based in Leicestershire in England, who had a huge ambition to be a writer himself. This is his story. Well, actually this is my story. That’s right folks. I am that fan. The name is Ellison. Jon Ellison.

One fine yet cloudy Saturday morning, I was getting ready to attend the MovCon, a film convention at the Queen’s Theatre in London. Around that time, my parents were taking a short vacation, so there was just me and the two cats. I browsed through my wardrobe and found a white shirt, jacket, trousers and a black bow tie and dressed as James Bond. When it came to dressing as a movie character, I had gotten lazy. Therefore I had decided to just see whatever clothes I had and to experiment. Besides, I had always wanted to go as James Bond. Although Timothy Dalton and Daniel Craig are my favourite Bond actors, I didn’t mind which one I resembled.

Normally I would’ve selected a more local convention or one that was at least slightly closer. I remember attending the Comic Convention at the Athena, the Alcon at De Montfort University and a Gerry Anderson themed event at the National Space Centre where I met Shame Rimmer, the same guy who voiced Scott Tracy in Thunderbirds and scripted episodes for Captain Scarlet & The Mysterons, Joe 90 and The Protectors. But because a guy only lives once and I thought it would be an awesome opportunity to absorb a bit of research for my writing, I chose to go to London. But my main excuse was because I discovered that some of my heroes were expected to attend the convention. The mention of those heroes’ names brought me out in a sweat. I had observed a list of the following guests via a flyer I had picked up from the Phoenix Arts some time ago;

Ridley Scott (director)

Terry Gilliam (director, actor, writer)

Eric Idle (actor, writer)

George Fenton (composer)

Jane Goldman (writer)

Brian Eno (composer)

“Brian Eno?” I pondered. “Oh yes,” I resumed. “He did the music to The Lovely Bones and that David Lynch film with Sting in it. I heard that film was absolute nonsense. But I can’t say, because I haven’t seen it.”

I decided not to waste any more time hanging about, so I grabbed my satnav and my ticket. Then I got into my car and set off towards London on the M1. It was round about two hours to get there.

I had spent half an hour hunting for a parking space somewhere outside the congestion charge area and my satnav was running low on battery power. Eventually, I was able to locate a suitable parking space on one of the streets. I paid for a four-hour parking charge. After leaving my car, I finally accessed the Queen’s Theatre. I encountered a lot of people sauntering in and out of the venue. Once I strolled through the door, my foot made contact with a lengthy red carpet laid across the main foyer. I followed the carpet to the entrance for the actual convention. Two men dressed in black suits stood on either side of the door.

Once I had my ticket checked by the doormen, I walked through the door and entered the main auditorium. My expression supplemented. The auditorium was gigantic, very posh with mostly dark red carpet walls, and extremely busy and noisy. A gigantic banner dangled high from the ceiling, reading: “MovCon 2018”. The top part of the banner was slightly blocked by a large fancy bunch of hanging lights. A wax model of Batman was located in one corner, while in the opposite corner stood statues of Darth Vader and Obi Wan Kenobi from Star Wars with their light sabres pointed at and touching each other. Roughly around eight hundred people had attended the convention. I stared around. Many of the surrounding attendees were expressing their thoughts out loud.

"Oh my god, Jane Goldman's here!" squealed a young lady who was scanning the brochure and she skipped off. "Where the fuck's Eric Idle? I paid a hundred bloody quid for this!" growled a boy in his late teens.

I didn’t expect the event to receive a hugely positive atmosphere, but it was too soon to review it right now. I did expect some famous film-makers to be at the convention. I referred to the brochure and the names on the guestlist i.e. Terry Gilliam and Ridley Scott. "Where the hell's Terry? And Ridley?" I wondered. There were so many people at the convention that I couldn’t recognise anybody. It was possible that the celebrities happened to be concealed by the crowds, or maybe they were running late. 

Some of the people were dressed casually, but a lot were dressed as various movie characters. I remember spotting an eight-year-old lad who was dressed as Indiana Jones. I could tell, because of the fedora hat, the brown trousers and the leather jacket he was wearing. Speaking of Batman earlier on, a teenage lad dressed as the superhero strolled by. The venue was no stranger to Disney fans as I briefly encountered a primary school-aged brother and sister dressed as Peter Pan and Mary Poppins who were play fighting, with the Pan look-alike using his short sword, while the Mary Poppins impersonator was armed with her umbrella. There was even an older generation of cosplayers; I noticed a couple roughly in their seventies portraying Rhett and Scarlett from Gone With The Wind.

And then I saw him; an American guy who I recognised from a variety of modern films, including one of my personal favourites, Reservoir Dogs. I can also recall watching him from numerous televised interviews. 

“Don’t even get me started on that Channel 4 interview,” grumbled the guy in a high-pitched Western US accent. “They so wound me up!” The guy was tall and square-jawed with short dark hair. He was wearing a colourful checked shirt and blue jeans. 

“Quentin Tarantino?” I breathed in a surprised voice and with a cheery expression.

The Quentin Tarantino in question was dealing with a line of fans. I was rather surprised to see him. I thought, "What? But he wasn't on the brochure?" But then I decided that none of it mattered. I guess one can’t expect every guest to be mentioned. So I stood at the back of the queue. I was the fourth in the line. Other people gradually lined up behind me. Sometime before the last guy in front of me excited, my knees started bouncing and my hands shook. Then I calmed and eyed the guy.

“Hello Quentin,” I said offering my hand.

“Hi,” he replied. He stared at my hand and shook it.

“I’m Jon Ellison” I continued. “I must say, it’s really great to see you here. I didn’t expect such a huge Hollywood filmmaker like yourself to be at this convention. Not in a dump like this city.”

The director-screenwriter grinned. “Well to be honest,” he answered. “Sometimes us guys need to get away from Hollywood for a bit. Don’t get me wrong. I so love filmmaking. But at times, it gets a bit stressful, especially when we’re considering the budgets and other admin shit.”

“What about when you’re filming and actors are buggering up their lines and you’re saying ‘cut, cut’ and then it leads you lot to do another take?” I asked.

“Oh fuck yes,” laughed Quentin. “But then, I can get over those things. One thing that pisses me off most though is when my actors and or crew nap through the process. That so slows things down. I keep reminding them that we have shooting to do and it’s like I’m working with fucking layabouts. That’s why I started using the Big Jerry in the first place.”

“Big Jerry?” I enquired. There was a pause.

“It’s some dildo I use to wake ‘em up,” replied Quentin.

I snorted. Then there was a very brief pause. 

“Er, now Quentin,” I resumed as I cleared my throat. “I’ve seen a lot of your movies over the years.”

Then I commenced listing some movie names and straightened one of my fingers each time.

“Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown, the Kill Bill films, Inglorious Basterds, can’t name anymore at the moment, but I’ve read a lot about you and I noticed that you also wrote most of your stuff. Well, except Sin City of course.”

Quentin nodded. “Technically,” he added. “Frank and Robert, Frank Miller and Robert Rodriguez that is, they did all of the writing and they were in charge of the directing. I only directed the bit where Dwight gets pulled over by a cop. Plus I allowed Frank and Rob access to the swords I used for Kill Bill.”

I nodded.

“I remember watching Reservoir Dogs,” I continued. “Because that’s one of my personal faves of all time. I was really impressed with how you mixed up the segments.”

“How do you mean?” enquired Quentin. 

“Well basically, it starts with a conversation in a café,” I explained. “Then straight after the opening credits, Mr. Orange is lying in the car’s backseats wounded and bleeding. Then sometime later, we see how Mr. Pink got that briefcase. And of course, there’s the naming scene which is supposed to take place before Orange gets hurt. There are flashbacks throughout and that’s pretty much the same with your other films.”

“I often picked those ideas through many of the films I grew up with,” Quentin told me. “Reservoir Dogs, for instance, I took inspiration from The Killing.”

“The Stan Kubrick one?”

“Mm,” he said nodding. “Kill Bill, I got from some kung-fu movies. Pulp Fiction, I looked at some of the movies on the mafia, but there was one scene where John Travolta’s dancing, I intended for him to move a bit like the cats from The Aristocats.”

At that moment, I smiled and nodded.

“Speaking of which,” I stated. “Have you ever planned to make any kids’ movies?”

“I doubt that I ever will,” Quentin sighed. “I know Robert who I worked with on Sin City once did Spy Kids. But he’s obviously more confident at it than I am. It’s much easier to make adult movies than it is to make some for kids. Not to say that kids ain’t gonna see my movies. That said, another thing that pisses me off is the impact my movies have and people whining about whether kids are gonna copy the violence in my films. I said something like; Kill Bill may be violent, but it’s Tarantino. The next thing, I’m reminding them; ‘films don’t turn kids into violent people. Violent filmmakers maybe, but the matters are so different. And you don’t barge into a Metallica concert to turn the fucking music down.’”

I nodded solemnly and added, “yeah, bloody censors and whiners.” Then I changed the subject.

“Now Quentin,” I stated. “I’m thinking about writing screenplays for feature films and I’m currently doing a master’s degree in Creative Writing over in Leicester. Do you have any tips?”

“I’d say, be original,” Quentin began. “Do use other films for research, but be as original as possible. That said, when I attended Independent Spirit Awards, '94, I said to some youngsters 'If you want to make a movie, make it. Don't wait for a grant, don't wait for the perfect circumstances, just make it.' Also, don't take any shit from censors.” 

I nodded as he concluded his sentence. Then for a couple of seconds, I glanced behind my back at the other fans waiting to speak to Quentin. The next person in line was a man, with a black suit, moustache and beard. He looked like Mr. Pink from Reservoir Dogs.

“Steve Buscemi?” I guessed.

“Hello,” the man responded.

The voice was too deep to sound even a bit like Mr. Pink or even the actor himself. The man may have been slightly older than me and looked like Mr. Pink, but it would’ve been a bit naff if one of Quentin’s veterans was queuing to see him. Plus, Steve Buscemi would’ve shaved off his facial hair since then. Nor have I ever heard him speak in a Yorkshire accent.

Then I turned my head back to Quentin and cleared my throat. Then I took my mobile phone out of my jacket pocket.

“Say, Quentin,” I said. “I understand you have a lot of people to talk to. Could we have a quick photograph?” 

“Sure,” he replied.

I typed on my phone. Then I turned to the setting for the camera. Quentin and I stood together and I held the phone above and towards us. We both smiled. I showed my teeth, though Quentin kept his lips closed. I reached my thumb on the button with a camera symbol pictured on it and tapped it. The phone flashed.

“Thanks very much, Quentin,” I said happily, and we shook hands. “I’ll let you get on.” And so I did.

I resumed my browsing around the venue. I couldn't seal my lips or quit smiling. My face felt paralysed. There was a lot more to analyse around the convention. I knew that to meet such a high prolific celebrity like Quentin Tarantino, I’d be lucky enough to meet him in such a venue like the MovCon, or possibly an awards ceremony, or some other venue as enormous as the Queen’s Theatre. Jason Donovan may have gone to Birstall in Leicester at one time, to see a local amateur dramatics group perform a pantomime, but I long doubted that I would catch a glimpse of Quentin in a local bar, because that is so rare. My meeting with Quentin made my day as much as the time when I met Shane Rimmer in the National Space Centre.

Now who to meet next, I wondered. Ridley Scott? Brian Eno? The choice was so high and I had less than four hours of parking time left.

Following my meeting with Quentin Tarantino, I felt very privileged to see him. But I did feel rather bad about both him and the fans lined up behind me. I know how much Quentin adores writing and making films, but to deal with so many bystanders must be a hassle for him. Famous writers are not always seen in public, due to the fact that they have gained such a quantity of fans that they’re likely to become swamped with people who greet them with so many random enquiries which the celebrities can have trouble attempting to answer. This could occur anytime such as en route to work or when they’re leaving their workplace, hence why they sometimes conceal their identities with dark glasses and long coats. I’d known about it before, but this experience brought a home to me. And speaking about the journey, maybe I should’ve taken a bus or a train, so that I’d worry less about parking and my time spent at the event. I’d think hard about how celebrities like Quentin would commute to these events.

Another thing I learned was that those with an ambition for writing should not be afraid to ask celebrities any questions about their experiences or for any advice. This is why many conventions hold Question and Answer, or ‘Q&A’ sessions as they are usually referred to. It occurred at the Comic Con 2018 and at the National Space Centre. Quentin’s advice focused on research through other media projects, but another slice of his philosophy was that if one gives up writing films, one may not achieve a career in the writing industry. The same is said for not being too afraid to use explicit material; hence Quentin’s quote “don’t take shit from censors.” Of course, every writer provides a different piece of advice, partially depending on where they learn things from, but there is always something useful for a future writer to take on board. Relating back to Quentin’s surprise appearance, our conversation and the whole atmosphere, when one enters a convention, one can never know who or what to expect.