You think you know Hollywood? Sure, you’ve seen your share of movies. You read Vanity Fair and Entertainment Weekly and sneak a peak at Showbiz Tonight from time to time to catch the latest on Lindsay Lohan’s sexual orientation. You probably even have a million-dollar script inside you, howling to get out. Who knows, maybe you’re even one of the tiny minority of Americans who have seen Frost/Nixon, Milk, or The Reader, three of this year’s Best Picture nominees that combined have grossed less than $50 million so far.
In that case, you know that we show folks are a bunch of neurotic, granola-crunching, coke-snorting, Prius-driving, raw-foods-consuming, bed-hopping, real-estate-obsessed, anti-gun, pro-gay-marriage, metrosexual Obama voters who talk deals all day at Orso’s and Sushi Roku and sleep each night in upscale, all-white enclaves with “Armed Response” signs in front of the houses.
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