ONE MORE NIGHT

The young director genuinely believed that if he could "hang out" inside one perfect film for the rest of his life then it would be Martin Scorsese's 'The Color Of Money'. He'd been studying it every night on the shoot of his debut movie 'Lucky Dice' in the hope that some of its magic would rub off on him. He'd read in some film magazine article somewhere that Paul Thomas Anderson had obsessively watched 'The Treasure Of Sierra Madre' whilst making his oil drama 'There Will Be Blood' so figured he could do the same.

Only one difference. He wasn't Paul Thomas Anderson and he definitely wasn't Martin Scorsese.

He was Kieran Clark and all that entailed.

Watching the disappointing rushes mounting up consistently each day from his debut feature film which was fast becoming an anchor round his neck (even his metaphors were all fucked up), Kieran was trying to think of any way he could to salvage the wreck of this almighty shit show before it got any worse.

"Could it even get any worse? I'm losing my mind, baby. It's like I've forgotten how to do the most basic things, even like just talking properly," Kieran tried to explain to Alison, his girlfriend, on a long distance call whilst necking half a box of diazepam.

"Well, you're talking now, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah. But that's because it's you and you're not awaiting my direction or vision or whatever the fuck."

Alison had seen Kieran freak out before, like the time just before he had secured the investment for the film and instantly began to doubt himself; he had suffered a massive anxiety attack, causing a scene at the expensive Greek restaurant where they'd gone out to celebrate.

"Come on, baby. You've always had a touch of the George Constanza about you," she said, trying to lift his mood. "You just need to get a grip of the situation."

Managing a sarcastic Constanzerish "heh", Kieran tried to explain to Alison just how behind he already was with the shooting schedule.

"I've cut more corners than a circle. We've literally got no coverage for any of the scenes. It's like I'm shooting the story inside a sardine can."

"Well, maybe you can make that the selling point of the film."

Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Yeah. Really not helping."

"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say when you're stressing like this.'

Realising there was nothing Alison could say to make it better, Kieran wrapped up their call.

"I better go. I haven't slept in like days. Should really try and catch a couple of hours before hell rolls right back round."

Before they ended their conversation she left him with a final suggestion.

"Take deep breaths and and keep reminding yourself why you're doing this."

"I'll try."

Sitting in his rundown hotel room with the sound of a couple banging loudly away next door like a couple of over zealous porn stars, Kieran tried to remain focused as he watched 'The Color Of Money' once again. As the light of the television's heavily scratched screen flickered across his face, Kieran slowly remembered that feeling of watching films late at night with his dad back when life seemed as simple as a glass of milk and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich.

There was something about bonding over a classic film late at night with your old man and sharing in its greatness that was unbeatable to his mind. He could never forget crossing that twenty minute to half an hour threshold into a movie before they shared a brief glance at one another like a couple of studio execs indicating they were both in for the long haul.  

The first time he watched 'The Color Of Money' with his late father felt like a real coming of age moment as if they both recognised aspects of both Fast Eddie's and Vincent's character in themselves. Naturally, the interplay between an older man and his young prodigy was similar to that of a father and son but it was something more than that. Kieran had always been a little on the precocious side and would often try and talk (much like Vincent) as if he knew all about the world with a flippant disregard for those who'd been around the block a little longer. But if anyone could cut him down to size, it was his dad.

And yet, they both inherently understood they had competing egos as rival ambitous creatives. His dad could often be just as much Vincent as he could be Fast Eddie. But more often than not his dad had that seasoned old pro vibe that reassured him when he lost all sense of where his youthful path was headed.

And who needed family therapy when a movie could wrap up everything that needed to be said between father and son in an hour and a half for free.

"Pretty good, huh?" Kieran's dad said as the final credits rolled.

Smiling, Kieran nodded, "Pretty good."

Shaking hands before they both left for their respective bedrooms to sleep, Kieran had a sense that whatever that feeling of contentment was after you finished watching a great movie with your dad, he wanted to replicate it somehow and for the rest of his life

He didn't know it back then at the time, but watching movies with his father was just another way of telling him how much he loved him.

Now, sitting alone in a hotel room in the middle of a mid western town his location scout had chosen for them, Kieran felt on the brink of a genuine mid-life crisis.

With his father no longer around, he now had no one to call up in the middle of the night for advice to get some creative input from, not to mention the morale boosting speeches that roused his spirit like no other. Yes he had Alison, but it wasn't fair to burden her with his stuff while she had her own stresses with her work. Somehow his dad always seem to relish being the creative trouble shooter each time he answered the phone to his son.

"I miss you, dad. Fuck, I miss you."

With tears in his eyes, Kieran finally fell asleep in a state of wanting to return to his dad in his dreams. He hoped that maybe he wouldn't even have to wake up tomorrow morning to a head fuck reality he could no longer seem to manage.

It was morning. Kieran knew this because of the hot sunlight that seem to have targeted his face like one of the laser beams you might find in a James Bond villain's lair.

With no hot water appearing to work in the tiny hotel shower, Kieran braced himself for the cold water instead and jumped out as quick as he could.

Drying himself with a damp towel that hadn't properly dried on the bathroom heater due to another malfunction of the hotel, he tried to remember the pure feelings he'd experienced the night before that felt true.  

"Maybe that's all it is." he thought to himself. "Make the movie for that little kid inside you, the one who's now a grown ass man but is trying whatever he can to get back to those good feelings of watching a classic with dad."

Against all the odds of what had been a pretty crumby start to the morning, Kieran had given himself the pep talk his father would have typically carried out.

Walking to the set, Kieran felt something signifcant had shifted. He now knew in his mind what he was looking for now and he was gonna bring everyone with him.  

Silas, the line producer, was the first to greet him when he arrived. He tried to read Kieran's mood which was difficult as his eyes were hidden behind his Paul Newman-like shades.

"You okay? You had some breakfast?"

"I had a toasted ham and cheese sandwich."

"Was that good?"

"It was fucking great. Washed it down with a glass of milk."

The line producer moved away from the subject of breakfast onto the business of the day.

"We gonna have to move fast today if we're gonna even stand a chance of catching up with our schedule."

"It's not gonna be a problem."

"No? I like the confidence. What's changed? You were having a wobble yesterday."

Kieran turned his head and looked directly at the sweaty, washed out looking Silas and quoted Fast Eddie's final line in 'Color' to him with a movie star confidence.

"I'm back!"