Chapter 5
"I never told the boys this, but Lucky Pictures was never supposed to be a success. I know that sounds strange to hear, and in hindsight, it seems like destiny had chosen it to succeed, but reality was far different. The truth was, there was no way my godfather or father would ever give me the money to start my own movie studio. At last, not without a good reason, and love, well, love wasn't a good reason to do anything in business. You don't build a business on love, and you don't make financial decisions based on love. If you want to succeed in business, you have to be ruthless, cutthroat, and cunning. So to get them interested, I had to approach it from that angle. It wasn't that hard, really. They knew, like I did, that one day, the government would wise up to their scams and start passing laws to get them. They had already done so with Mr. Capone and my father. So a legitimate business venture would be needed at some point, and what better one than the movie industry? There were numerous ways to write off a failed movie and still turn a profit. The people outside the business referred to it as Hollywood accounting. The process of taking a clearly successful movie and reporting it as a failure, while doing so in a nearly completely legal way. After I explained to them what could be done, they, of course, were very interested in it. What neither my father nor godfather expected, however, was that I would actually succeed and would never need to take part in such practices." - A Dream Come True by Ruth Morris Lucky Luciano.
-1939-
-Ruth POV-
"Shane! Come back!" The voice of Roddy McDowall, the kid who was playing the character of Joey Starrett, cries out.
With such raw emotion that I am stunned speechless for a moment and nearly forget to yell out. "Cut,"
Then take a deep breath of the crisp mountain air around and smile. It was perfect. The boy was perfect. From what I recall of the original, the actor who played Joey Starrett came across as a bit stiff. He wasn't bad, but clearly his age and inexperience had worked against him. Roddy, however, had no such problems as he had plenty of acting experience, which he had gained in Britain.
Running up to me, the young boy smiles and asks, "How was that, Miss Luciano?"
Looking down at the boy, I say, "That was wonderful, Roddy. Great job. Now, why don't you run along and go warm up? It's getting cold out here."
"Yes, ma'am," The boy says in good cheer and runs off with a smile on his face.
Hearing a horse making its way towards me, Alan, who surprisingly enough knows how to ride, says, "Boy's got a hell of a future waiting for him. I swear, I was half tempted to turn back there for a moment."
Looking up at him for a moment, I smile and say, "It's a good thing you didn't. I don't think that could have been any better if we tried."
Getting off the horse, Alan hands the reins to the handler we had on set and stretches a bit. "So that was it, huh? The last shot we needed before we head back to LA and finish up."
"That's right. So what do you think? Still questioning if it was a good idea to work for me on this movie." I ask him with a knowing smile.
The honest truth is that I knew Alan had his doubts about this project. Everyone did, but as one of our stars, he needed to have confidence in the film. Otherwise, it would translate to the others, and the whole project would suffer. Luckily, that didn't prove to be a problem, as he was nothing but professional and never showed any sign of doubt. Though it was clear he was now hopeful. Where before he was only pretending to be.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Alan says, "I don't know. I mean, it's my first starring role, but there is something here between Jean, Jake, and now Robby. I think we really got something. We all gave it our best, and you, Ruth…. I can say I was wrong about you. You really know what you're doing."
I laugh at that, good naturally, and say, "Ya, you're not the only one who doubted me. But it doesn't matter now. We are almost done. Tell me how the fast draw? Getting any better?"
Pulling his thankfully unloaded gun from its holster with considerable speed, Alan points it, fires the unloaded gun, then spins it around twice before putting it back in its holster smoothly.
"Hmmm, you have been practicing," I say, seeming to be unimpressed.
"That's it. That is all you have to say?" Alan asks, a bit annoyed at how unimpressed Ruth sounded.
Taking a moment, I smile and say, "Well, what do you expect, Mr.Ladd? Should I act surprised every time you make something seem easy? That would get boring fast, don't you think?"
I then walked away, but with a teasing smile on my face. Letting Alan know I was indeed impressed, and he laughed. After all, the showdown was the key moment in the movie. It needed to be perfect, and to ensure it was, I had not only planned to use every camera we had for the scene but had also rented out several others. Nothing was being left to chance, and that meant it all came down to the actors. Both of whom had been working with a quickdraw expert to make sure it was both realistic and appalling to watch.
As I made my way back to the house where I was staying, I went upstairs. Thinking to myself, I would miss this place once I left. While it may have been in the middle of nowhere, I did appreciate the quietness away from the big city for a while. Perhaps when I made it big in Hollywood, I would buy a place out there. After all, while I wasn't a big fan of the cold or snow, I bet it was just lovely during the winter.
Entering the room I shared with Naru Naoki, I saw her packing a bag on her bed, while she hummed a happy little tune. Letting out a small sigh, I am once again reminded of how soft I really am and how much of a sucker I am for a pretty face. After several days of being pressured by Naru's father to give her a job, I had finally relented and agreed to give her one. Doing what I was still unsure of. I could, in all honesty, recall quite a few movies featuring Asian stars, but none that didn't require more advanced technology than was currently available to pull off, and none that fit the current mood of the US.
While the US loved to say it was the land of the free, home of the brave, it was, in all honesty, just as chicken shit scared of change as much as those in the Old World. It was racist and misogynistic to an extreme degree, especially down south. I was already pushing things by directing a major motion picture. Suppose I tried to make an Asian actor of any gender a star. It matters well, call it quits right now. And especially if that actor or actress was of Japanese descent.
No, I needed to find something else for her to do. With the war coming, I knew I could do very little to stop the US government from imprisoning many of the Japanese Americans in concentration camps. However, if I did things correctly, I could perhaps put some pressure on the government to be fairer in its treatment of its own citizens. After all, I didn't plan to pull any punches when it came to calling the Germans out for their bullshit. No, I would make them out to be the demon spawn they were. Even now, I could feel the disgust that the past me felt as the German people tried to downplay what was to come. We didn't know my ass. Six million people didn't just up and disappear without explanation. No, I would make sure the world saw them for what they were. Monsters at worst and unwilling accomplice at best. Because that was the power of the media and movies, they could sway popular opinion if done just right.
With all that said, I could understand why Mr. Naoki was sending his daughter to live in LA. While his farm was doing well, the cold fact was that there were few marriage opportunities available for his daughter out here. The nearest town was a 30-minute drive away and mainly comprised of white people. Most of whom were racist in one way or another. With a total of 3 kids, one being the eldest son, Naru's prospects were poor. The plan was always to let her live with relatives in San Diego, where she could hopefully find a job as a seamstress or a similar occupation.
That was, however, before I arrived. Seeing her chance to make her dreams come true as an actor or singer, Naru practically begged her father to ask me for a job. I, of course, refused at first, but like I said, he broke me down, and I agreed in the end. Even making some calls to get her put up in a Women-Only apartment building. That, however, was as far as I was willing to go, and I made it very clear that Naru would either pull her own weight in whatever job I could find for her or she would be out of a job.
"I see someone is eager to go," I say behind her.
Turning around to face me, I was again taken a bit by surprise by how beautiful Naru was. Again, it was a shame she was Aisa; otherwise, I could have probably made her a star. Perhaps I still could if I planned things out right. After all, most men thought with their dicks more than their brains, and even the most racist motherfucker was still weak in front of a beautiful woman. If I were to try to make Asia a star, it would be easier with a woman than a man.
"Ah, good evening, Ruth-sama," Naru says, bowing her head.
I wave her off and say, "None of that Naru-chan. Save that for when we get to LA. When alone, call me Ruth."
We had actually talked about it. I wasn't the submissive kind, but men loved a submissive woman. An exotic beauty like Naru, even more so. Playing that card would be her best bet. Even though I had learned she was far from shy or submissive in any way. No, she was as much a demon as her mother if pushed.
"Of course, Ruth." Naru says with a smile and adds, "And yes, I am ready to leave this farm. Eighteen years is enough of this boring life."
Taking a seat on the bed opposite her, I smile. I got it. Being on the farm was a novel experience for me. It was all new and so very fascinating, but having to live here day in and day out? Ya, that must have gotten old real quick.
"Not going to miss it at all?" I ask.
"Sure, I will miss it, but…..There isn't much here for me. The only man who has shown any interest in me is Mr. Shoyo." Naru says.
"Shoyo? Shoyo? Isn't he the old man who runs the General Store and is like 60?" I ask her.
"Fifty-one, but yes, him. His wife died last spring, and he has no children of his own. So it's either him or the big city." Naru says.
"Ya, I can see why you would choose to try your luck with me and my company over him," I say.
Actually, the offer wasn't that bad. While the age gap between them was significant, it wasn't the biggest I had ever heard of or seen, for that matter. My own mother and my stepfather were 12 years apart. And I knew several men in their 60s who were married to women even younger than I am right now. So it wasn't really uncommon, and the man was well-off to boot. For most young girls with nothing to their names, it was a good match. The only problem was that Mr. Shoyo was an unpleasant man. Having met him twice before, I had to make it very clear to him the 2nd time we met that if he insulted me one more time, I would send someone to come and remove his cock. That someone, most likely being Toby, who didn't like dealing with the man either, and after hearing him insult me, wanted to beat the man black and blue at the very least.
"You know Toby likes you," I say with a smile.
Naru, however, only rolls her eyes at this and says, "Toby likes everything with a man kou."
Knowing that word, I say, "Cruel but not untrue."
"I saw him they and woo Sandy Cox just yesterday. Ah, how can you stand that man?" Naru asks, half in disgust, but with a hint of something else. Jealousy maybe. Hard to tell, but as a girl myself, I knew women were strange and complicated to understand, on the best of days.
I smile and answer truthfully, "Because he is my friend and most importantly, loyal."
"Hmmm, maybe to you, but I don't think to anyone else," Naur says with some bitterness in her tone. Mostly because she found Toby somewhat attractive at first, but after getting to know his character, she quickly lost interest in him.
I laugh and say, "Maybe, but then that is all I need."
After she goes back to packing, I say, "Listen, after thinking about it for a while, I have decided that your job will be as my personal secretary at first."
"Your secretary?" Naru asks, not expecting that.
"At first, yes. The fact of the matter is that, while you are an American, people will only see you as being Asia. As a result, I have no idea what to do with you. Not many people are looking for Asia singers or actors, and even less so if they have no experience." I say bluntly.
"I see," Naru says, and she really did. She was no fool; she knew the world was cruel. The only reason she was even allowed to go to the same school as white kids was that there were no other schools around. And to call it a happy experience would be a lie. Sure, she had some friends growing up, but not many, and even now, she rarely sees or talks with them.
So instead of feeling downcast at being made a secretary, which was actually a pretty good job, all things considered. She felt happy as it was one more step towards her dream of stardom. However, with that said, she did have to ask, "And now will Miss Scott feel about this?"
Yes, Naru was aware of Ruth's interest in the same sex. It was hard not to see it, as Ruth didn't try to hide it. And while it was somewhat embarrassing at first to know she was sharing a room with a lesbian, she had gotten over it quickly enough when she realized that Rutt was already in a somewhat relationship with a woman named Lizabeth Scott. Someone Naru got to meet, if only for a moment, during the dance scene of the movie Ruth was filming.
A lovely woman with an open personality. She was nice to talk to and often friendly, if not a bit protective of Ruth. It was clear to anyone who watched them that there was more going on there than a simple friendship. And while everyone else seemed to remain clueless, Naru did not and had point-blank asked Ruth if she was a homosexual. Ruth answered with a yes, and that was it. The rest honestly didn't matter.
"I haven't told her yet," I say.
"You should. Unless you wish to return to a cold apartment once we arrive in LA." Naru says.
I open my mouth and then close it. Fuck she was right. "Shit, you're right. I will be right back."
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"Fuckkkkkk, I hate it when other people are right," I think to myself.
Like Naru suggested, I had called Liz that night. Making sure she knew I had hired Naru as my personal secretary. She took it pretty well. I mean, after I reminded her who Naru was. At least on the phone, she took it pretty well. In person, ya not so much. God, I am such a fucking idiot sometimes. I mean, I am a fucking woman myself. I should have seen it coming. The moment I got home, of course, my girl… whatever she was would give me the cold shoulder.
It was fucking predictable. Liz was still trying to figure out what we were. Were we lovers, girlfriends? Fuck buddies? She had no clue, and seeing as we had yet to have sex, neither did I. So, my going off and hiring some beautiful exotic oriental girl as my personal secretary was not going to go over well. I could see where her mind was right now. What questions was she asking? Was I looking to replace her with someone more willing? Was it a test to see if I could get her to come to my bed faster? What was I doing? Liz had no idea, so she reacted negatively.
Now I had an angry…something at my home who was giving me the cold shoulder. It fucking sucked, but again, I couldn't really blame her. Hopefully, she would calm down soon and realize that my hiring of Naru was mainly a business decision, with some pity mixed in. Luckily, I had work to do until then.
Today was the final day of filming, and excitement was in the air. At some point, this whole thing became more than just another movie. It was like they could all feel what I already knew. We had a hit. No, we had more than a hit movie. We were breaking rules—well-established ways of filming for something new and special. Even if we failed, which was unlikely, we would be remembered.
Walking onto the set, I take a look around and see that everything is ready to go, and the actors are in place. Approaching them, I greet them with smiles and hugs. While also giving them some last-minute encouragement. Not that they needed it at this point. They were all cocksure of themselves at this point. Yet as sure as they were of themselves, I fully expected to have to do more than a few takes before it was all said and done. There was really no way to get around it. All the practice in the world can't keep you from fucking up at the worst time.
As I was sadly proven right about as soon as action was yelled. Building tension in a movie was not easy—just a minor relaxing of the eyes or loosening of the body can ruin a take. It wasn't all the actors' fault, however, when I called the first cut. In fact, it was the makeup department that had failed, and I had them go in to touch up a few things. The next one was, of course, the wardrobe. Then several bad angles had to be adjusted, and funny enough, Alen dropped his gun one time when he drew it.
"Fuckkkkk," Alen says in that moment.
Making everyone laugh and breaking the tension that everyone was starting to feel at all the takes we had done so far.
"Cut," I yell, but am just barely able to do so, being busy laughing my ass off. Then I fall to the floor, noticing that even with the makeup, Alen is blushing hard.
Nodding his head up and down, Alen says, "Okay, alright, get it out of your system, assholes."
"Does this mean I win?" The man playing Jack Wilson asks. Which only adds to Alen's embarrassment.
"Cane it, wise guy," Alen says, but again, this only makes us all laugh even harder.
After about five minutes of laughing, we finally got back to filming. This time, it only takes one take to get things right. And once I call cut this time, everyone knows we've got it, and cheers go out among the crew. Yet my job was not yet done, as I now had to move on to perhaps the most stressful part of the job. Editing and composing the music for the film would take several weeks. Luckily, I didn't waste my dad's money when he set me up with all those music classes, so I knew what I was doing for the most part. All I had to do was copy the music I had in my head and give it to an actual composer, and boom, I got my music. Simple and easy.
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I should really have someone slap me one of these days for my big mouth. Or, well, the big mouth in my head. Why do I keep thinking things would be easy when I know better? Nothing was ever as easy as it seemed, and I knew that. The production of Shane up till this point had proven that. While we never ran behind schedule, many things happened between the first day of filming and the last that proved some things were simply out of your control.
Delays due to bad weather, wardrobe malfunctions, equipment failure, or foul shots were so common that all the planning in the world couldn't prevent them from happening. So, of course, there would be problems with editing and sounding. For example, while I tried to cut down on filming as much as possible, the fact was that I had over three hours' worth of footage that I had to condense to just over an hour and a half. That was a lot of film to go through, and while not all of it was good, a lot of it was.
Then came the composing itself. That had proven to be a whole other beast, as most of the composers I had met with to make the music didn't want to use what a woman gave them, or tried to change it to fit their own tastes. I had to fire three different composers before I finally found someone who would do as they were told. And even he was no cake walk.
Bernard Herrmann was the man I hired and was in just a few worlds a perfectionist of the highest caliber. While he was more than happy to fly out to LA for the $5,000 I offered him upon his arrival, he took what I had written and revised it. In his own words, it wasn't bad for an amateur, but it could be better. He was honestly quite abrasive, but overall, worth the money, as he took something that was okay and made it, if not great, perfect music for the movie.
Overall, the entire project took approximately four months to complete, and Shane was finally released on November 10, 1939. I had wanted to push it back until after the storm that I was expecting had passed on December 15, 1939, but I couldn't do that. Despite what the memories of my past life were telling me about the upcoming movie Gone with the Wind, I could not delay any longer. Lucky Pictures was bleeding money and would not last another few months without going bankrupt. So reluctantly, I gave the go-ahead to release the film.
Now it was just a matter of waiting for those numbers to come in. There was no grand premiere; we couldn't afford it. All we had were advertisements and a hope that it was good enough to grab people's attention. And now here I was, one week later, with the guys waiting for the call that would tell us if we had a hit or not.
There were some good signs, mind you. From what little we could see in LA and the surrounding towns, Shane was filling up the theaters. In New York, my contacts there were telling me they were seeing the same thing. That didn't mean anything, however, and while the papers and critics were saying good things, I may have had Raimondo pay off a few people and called in a few favors to make that happen. Ultimately, it would come down to that first financial report. That would determine if we had a hit or not.
Looking at the clock on the wall, I saw it was quickly nearing midnight, and the boys were growing restless. Raimondo was drinking a glass of cheap whiskey, Toby, despite my telling him not to, was chain-smoking by a window, and Samuel… Well, poor Samuel was the one waiting for his team of collators to call in with the final numbers of the week. He wasn't drinking or smoking, but he was trapping that fucking pencil of his up and down nonstop. Honestly, I wanted to take it and stab him in the eye with it at this point. Needless to say, we were all stressed out at the moment.
Finally, the call came in, and Samuel answered the phone, "This is Samuel."
We can't hear what is being said on the other end, but the slight smile on his lips gives him away, and after a few more moments, he says, "Got it, thank you."
Then he hung up the phone. He says nothing but gets up, goes to a cabinet, and takes out a bottle of champagne. A cheap one, but that isn't what matters. What matters is he pops it and says, "Well, we have a hit. We just made 700,000 dollars in the first week."
Then starts to laugh, as Toby jumps up screaming "Yessssss."
Raimondo leans back, looking like he had aged several years, while I smile, looking smug. I knew this was only the start. The reports we had just received were only for the bigger cities, and the small towns would be slower to report their earnings. However, for now, I take a glass of champagne and enjoy the moment. After all, we had just taken our first steps towards our dreams.