Robots and Motor Oil [Scene 1]

I had a bad feeling before I accepted the job. I truly did. There was something nagging at me, screaming almost that said, "don't do it".  As a director with some integrity, obviously I reject scripts that are nonsensical. I'm an artist, a creator. One that strives to find the beating heart of a story.  So, when an offer for Space Cowboy Robot Love 8 came across my desk, of course I immediately turned it down. A movie about cowboys and robots in love. It was stupid.  A few days later, the producer visited me personally in Tokyo. 

He was a regular American white man with slicked back grey hair and thick-rimmed glasses. His teeth were exceptionally white, and he grinned so wide it blinded me. It made me a little jealous. Ben Ranter was his name, a big-time producer from Skyline Studios. I invited him up to my office and shared green tea with him. I brought my lawyer with me in case of a situation where there had to be some sort of negotiation. He spoke calmly and had an evenly toned voice, hinting at nothing except business. Ben told me there was a vision he had for SCRL 8, that he wanted to turn the parody into something real, more serious. That my gloomy and innovative style fit perfectly with his vision and could resonate with old and new fans alike. A Ryujin Haruka movie. 

I was intrigued, but skeptical. It had been my dream to direct a movie in Los Angeles but with these types, you never know. It could be a scam or bad deal. I think he sensed my tension and as some sort of 'ease of the vibes', he seductively slid a bobblehead figure right next to the contract paper. It was a bearded man in a Mexican poncho themed space suit who wore a cowboy hat. It was the main character, Jedd Young, of Space Cowboy Robot Love. I had seen all of the movies, and I didn't remember him wearing a Mexican poncho. When I asked him why was the bobblehead like that, he slowly turned the figure around and on a piece of paper taped on the back, it read "Limited edition" in bold Sharpie pen with sloppy handwriting. 

My lawyer reviewed the contract and nodded solemnly. I don't know if it was the fifteen percent cut that he got from my contract or what, but with a limited edition bobblehead, who could say no? Ben gently pulled a blue ink pen out of his shirt pocket and of course, I signed with glee and giddy excitement. 

I just wish I read the contract to see if it said anywhere that the entire production staff and calling cast were complete and utter idiots. I would've at least been prepared. 

***

"Cut!" I yelled. The bell sounded off, signaling the end of the take. 

"What is it now, Ryujin?" Jedd Young, or should I say, Ryan Ashley snarked. A-lister. He's the lead actor. The Casting Director handled all of the casting, and I just... don't see it. He looked like a blonde Bilbo Baggins. 

"For this line, when you approach the store attendant and say, 'I can't find any Mexican ponchos in here. How am I supposed to go on a date like this', that's not your line. Why are you improvising?"

"It is my line. You should know the script,"

I looked over to the side of the set and saw Ben and the script supervisor give me a big thumbs up. We scouted this location for this scene, which happened to be on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. The chic and modern stores with the houses on the hill in the distance made it perfect. All the extras on set walked along the sidewalk while the camera crew zeroed in on Jedd to follow him in the luxury store. The sun gleamed on my face as the palm trees that lined the streets were modified to space beams. Jedd in this scene was shopping for a Mexican poncho to wear on his date with a space robot. 

I really should’ve read my contract. 

“Right…well, besides that. I think I’m looking for a bit more…longing. He’s nervous and wants to impress Yunari, it’s their first date. Capture that. Ok. Back again!” 

"Rolling sound," the assistant director boomed, and the set quieted down.

"Take seventy, action!" 

A single shot camera followed Jedd into the luxury store, panning wide enough to show the straggling extras that roamed the sidewalk and the brim of his cowboy hat. The exposition was grainy in the lens. Jedd rummaged in the jackets, grumbling loudly at the selection with the disgruntled expression of an idle retail shopper. A hint of pain crossed his eyes for a split second. This is good so far.

A green-skinned woman sporting long antennas on her head approached him. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Mexican Ponchos,"

She stared at him blankly. "Mexican Ponchos...? I'm not certain I am familiar with that brand. Are you a foreigner to this planet? We have many brands, if you look at these jackets over-"

Here it comes.

"I can't find any Mexican ponchos. How am I supposed to go on a date like this?" He pointed to his designer gold plated suit with a platinum collar. Jedd began to sob into his hands. "These rags, the robot women. I don't...I don't," he paused, "...know if I can be a man worthy of robot love."

"Cut!" I screamed, "Let's call it for today. Good work everyone."

The scene ended and the camera crew, actors, extras alike scattered like roaches across the set. We did 12 hours of shooting for today and honestly, wondered if the money was worth it. I can't lie, I'm a little greedy and could already smell my check from a mile away. But this movie was so bad.

I usually make no mistakes. Nor is my judgement ever off. No. So how in the world had it come to this?

I hurried off and hid amongst the extras so I could avoid Ben and his evil producer minions. His wife made nasty casserole and after one month on set, I couldn't take it anymore. I sprinted away from the set and made a B-line straight to my car. The parking lot was jammed packed and my Mexican themed Jedd Young cowboy bobbled incessantly on my dashboard. In the mirror, I saw a man running toward me wearing oven mitts holding a pot in his hand. Shit. It was casserole. I reversed my car and weaved through the traffic and somehow made it out by the skin of my teeth. 

My tank ran low, so I went to get gas, which was seven fucking dollars by the way. It spilled all over my plain white shirt and reeked of motor oil. Passing through Sunset Boulevard, glaring at the fading sun, the palm trees. Skateboarders and walkers. I realized I didn't know how to direct this movie. I didn't understand the characters, the vibe, nor how to bring out the true romance that was imbedded in the filth of these cheesy movies. People loved them. And when they heard it was going to be directed by Ryujin Haruka, they expected it to be great. It was a lot to live up to.

On the way to my rental home, I decided to stop by a little area in Echo Park. It was quaint, yet lively. Kids ran around holding balloons and the warm breeze brushed along the smalls of my neck. A bench freed itself, and wearing my inconspicuous costume of a fake mustache and ranger cowboy hat, I was fully incognito. 

Out the corner of my eye to the right, I noticed a woman gazing out into the park, sitting on the bench beside me. She must've come out of nowhere. Her hair was long and black, flowing to her shoulders. And her skin, no. I scratched my head. No, no. It was...metal. 

Randomly, she turned and faced me. "You smell really nice. It reminds me of home. Do you have more of that smell?" she sniffed the collar of my shirt and before I could run away, her nose ran against my neck and left a small cut. I began to bleed.

Wait. If this was real..."Are you a robot? And where is home?"

"I don't know what a robot is, but my name is Yunaria and I come from the planet Yalina. Where am I?"

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"I'm not sure what that is either, but if you tell me where I am and have more of that aroma on your body, I can be your girlfriend. Can I taste it?" She mirrored something in her eyes I couldn't quite capture through the lens of my camera. 

It was then that I fell in love with a robot.

But...she was a work in progress to say the least...ha.

***