Lloyd Dobbler, The Sequel

You were practically tied when it came to me going out with Brian. Half of you thought I should go out with him and see if he decided to mention Peter and Jane. Others thought I should go out with Brian, but leave Peter and Jane out of it. But the winning vote went to those of you who thought I should just forget it and not go out with Brian at all. Okay, so the popular vote says I should forfeit my social life. I could have done that without any help, and it feels strangely liberating to elect not to have a life.

And so, in lieu of my own life, I decided to set about giving one back to my brother Mark. One afternoon at work, when Joan and I went out to grab a coffee, an activity that had become a nearly daily occurrence, I did a little background work.

“So, have you talked to your ex since you moved out?” I asked.

“No. We had been on the verge of breaking up for more than a year. So, when I left, I was totally done; there was nothing left to say” Joan said.

“Would you say, you’re ready to date again, you know, if the right guy came along,” I continued.
“I’d really rather make friends right now,” Joan said, pausing to look at me. “I haven’t had much fun lately. As you know, I’ve spent all my time here, just focusing on work, not really going out. It’s actually been great to hang out with you. You’re the first person I’ve wanted to talk to since Malcolm, my ex.”

I had found an in. “Oh good, I’m glad to hear you say that because I could really use your help with something tonight. My brother Mark is this sort of actor-comedian guy, and he and I have been writing a pilot for NBC. He has to turn it in soon, and we thought it would be a good idea to have people actually read the script the script out loud. We could be seriously kidding ourselves if the dialogue falls flat once the actors get their hands on it.”

After convincing Joan that she didn’t need to be a legitimate actress, she said she was in. Chlo had been M.I.A. after an unexpected second bout with Pierre, which had recently ended, again, after he surprised her by taking her on a romantic trip to Paris followed by a quick stop at Pierre’s parents’ house to see his daughter. His…5-year-old daughter! Turns out the kid—who Chlo said was “A gorgeous little Lou Doillon lookalike, but, you know, a child”—splits her time between Pierre’s ex-girlfriend’s house and his parents’ house. For all Chlo’s love of drama, even she knew when things had been pushed a little too far. She agreed to help out Mark too, and would pick Anthony up on her way.

Chlo and Anthony could play out the parts of my parents, and Mark’s adult-life friends. I would play the sister, past and present. And Joan could play the love interest—perfect.
I ordered pizza and was two beers in by the time Chlo and Anthony got there. Mark had pulled out folding chairs and set them in a circle around the living room—theater class style. Chlo picked up a script and started reading bits of dialogue aloud in a Royal Shakespearean tone, taunting Mark to try to grab the script away from her. So when I answered the door to let Joan in, Mark had pinned Chlo down on the carpet causing her to scream with mock panic. Joan looked like she wanted to scream with real panic.

We read through the pilot four times, and Mark and I found great spots for improvement each time. Anthony mooned over Chlo, clearly enjoying playing the part of her husband. Joan had been quiet, reading her part, but not really contributing to the group, not seeming to enjoy herself. I don’t know what I’d hoped for, but it was for more than that. And as we were cleaning up, she came up to me looking a little worried.

“Joan, I’m sorry if you didn’t enjoy yourself. I guess I underestimated how overwhelming our little group can be,” I said.

“No, it’s not that. I thought everyone was hilarious. It’s just that…about the script. I think it’s great, but…” she stopped. I motioned for her to continue. “It’s really funny, but it’s a little... I mean, the guy is controlled by his family, not so lucky in love, and has two kind of dopey friends. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I was thinking about something to set it apart.”
Mark was watching us with the start of a wounded pout on his face, the look he gets when he knows someone is being disapproving. I waved him over. “It’s okay, Joan. This pilot is a really big deal and Mark is going to be criticized left and right after he turns this in. If you have an opinion, please share it.”

“Well, I was just thinking, what if instead of Mark’s character having these two dopey friends to always agree with him and keep him slightly off course when it comes to women, what if the two friends were women. And what if they, in trying to help Mark do the right thing to land a girlfriend, actually sabotage him. Then the show becomes more about how sometimes chemistry is about things not making sense and not always doing the right thing. And it can also help Mark’s character grow in terms of his confidence and independence, from his friends and his family.” Joan stopped and looked back and forth between me and Mark. “I dunno…”

I was a little afraid Mark was going to hit her. He looked stunned, like someone had just hit him. Joan’s idea annihilated the entire concept of Mark’s one man show, and everything that got him noticed in the first place.

“It’s brilliant,” he said, calmly, nodding his head. “It’s freaking brilliant, yes! It’s like Lloyd Dobbler and his friends, but instead of ignoring them and being his own person, following his heart, he actually listens to these girls. And they lead him astray. He does exactly what the girls think he should do, and it turns out that it’s exactly what the girls he’s interested in do not want him to do. This is it. Cece, we’ve got to re-write this. Joan, can you stay and help?”

Joan didn’t stay. I think she felt she’d contributed enough and barely escaped with her head. Mark and I stayed up until 3am rewriting, and I must say—it was brilliant. But when I went to leave I checked my phone. There was one text message from Joan: “i had fun. what a talented family...” I knew it; she was hooked.

And so it began. And now for the action, or lack thereof. Guidance, please.