The Liam McEneaney Experience:
I look out the window wistfully at the occupied outdoor tables, and there, with his back to me is Philip Seymour Hoffman, reading a script. His New York Film Academy t-shirt riding high, his jeans riding low. Yes, Hollywood was truly smiling upon me that day.
After a long while of that view, an outdoor table opened and I nabbed it. Now I'm sitting next to Hoffman. Adjacent to PSH's table are two young guys loudly and aggressively writing a screenplay on their Powerbooks. And I should add, they were writing about the worst screenplay I'd ever heard. A lot of talk about the need to get a shot of a ship leaving orbit, of guns and mercenaries, and the properties of a suit that's theu nderlying theme or somethign like that. One would say, "Our second act climax is when the priest fals on the scaffolding and dies." And the other guy responded, "Our third act opens when she wakes up and finds the billboard with a picture of her holding a shotgun."
