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Speaking of Dialogue

True story: In 1976, when I was 22 years old, I had dinner with the actor Jon Voight and his wife, Marcheline Bertrand, in their room at the Park Lane Hotel in New York City. Voight was starring in a production of Hamlet that was about to go into rehearsals at a theater on the campus of Rutgers University in New Jersey. My date was the director of the play, a guy we'll call Frank. The Voights’ baby, Angelina, was asleep in the next room. I don’t remember much about this event. I remember that I wore a long floral print shirtwaist dress that fell to my ankles and platform sandals, and that Marcheline was beautiful and shy. I remember the men did most of the talking. I remember standing over the sleeping baby’s crib—I think this was at the invitation of Marcheline, as in “Would you like to see the baby?” And that’s about it.

What follows is a completely imaginary conversation, one that we might have had if we had been more honest, better informed, and a little bit drunk.

Sara: So what is it like to be a big-ass movie star?

Jon: It’s great. People fawn all over you. The offers roll in. And the girls! I can have any woman I want. There’s only one problem.

Sara: Yeah? What’s that?

Marcheline: Yeah, what’s the problem, Jon?

Jon: I want them all! 

Sara: That must be hard.

Jon: Hard, yeah. Hard as a rock. [To Frank] Your girlfriend’s funny!

Frank: I don’t think she meant it like that. Besides, she’s not really my girlfriend. She’s still a child.

Sara: He says I’m like a monkey on his back. He’s a bastard. Most of the time we hate each other. I was shocked when he invited me to join you for dinner. I’m trying really hard not to be an embarrassment right now. Well, not that hard. I really don’t give a shit anymore. But we were talking about you, and what it’s like to be a cinematic idol. You mentioned women. So what do you do when temptation strikes? Wait, let me guess. You kneel and pray, because after all, you’re married to a beautiful woman and you have a brand-new baby and adultery is a sin.

Jon: Yeah, yeah, I kneel and pray until the feeling passes. Lust, be gone!

Sara: Liar.

Jon: Ah! You got me.

Sara: [To Marcheline] He’s a creep.

Marcheline: I know. I was so blind. Now I’m stuck. A baby, a rotten husband, no career. My life is over. I thought being married to Jon would give my career a boost. What an idiot I was. But I’m gonna get past it. The baby’s gonna help. I’m gonna devote myself to her, to being a mother. Acting is stupid, when you think about it. And actors are horrible people. Their morals are all messed up.

Sara: [To Frank] You’re being awfully quiet.

Frank: Hmm.

Sara: Speak!

Frank: What do you want me to say?

Sara: I want you to apologize for calling me a monkey—apologize with tears in your eyes—and to tell Marcheline that she’s absolutely right and her husband is a bastard and doesn’t deserve her and to tell Jon Big-Ass Movie Star Voight that he needs to pray for real that God doesn’t punish him for being such an arrogant asshole. Then I want you to say you’ve realized that you don’t want to direct him in Hamlet after all, because the whole production is a farce. He’s only doing it because of that college student who’s playing Ophelia. He's using you. And then I want you to tell Marcheline that she deserves better—we all know that—and that if she ever wants to play Ophelia, you will direct her and let her cast her own leading man.

And now I think it’s time for me to go. I’m sorry, Marcheline, for ruining your dinner party. But you know, sometimes you just have to take a stand. 

I doubt I’ll ever see you again, but I hope you have a good life and that your daughter doesn’t grow up to be a movie star.

Exercise: Write the conversation you didn't have.