Hollywood dream of filmmaker Nicholas McCarthy is stop and go.
'His 11-minute thriller had just played Sundance. He had hoped the premiere would launch — after many failed attempts — his dream of making it. He was offered one meeting on which all his hopes rested.' 'This might be his last chance. He was 40, with a wife and baby. Like countless dreamers, he'd existed on the outskirts of Hollywood, fending off debt and doubt, staying afloat with low-wage jobs, diligently writing screenplays and making short films, hoping to hold on long enough to catch a break.'
'Each day, he drove to a little cafe in Atwater Village and spent hours there, typing, thinking, scribbling out plots, surrounded by actors and filmmakers chasing the same elusive prize.
The odds were daunting. All he had to do was look around to be reminded of Hollywood's addicting allure.
At the cafe, a few had achieved success enough to make a good living. But most were grinding away like he was, lonely among the crowd.
He and his wife had talked about when he would give up.'
'As he had for years, McCarthy holed up month after month at a pair of local cafes, tuning out distractions, working on scripts. He approached it as if he were a professional. But was he? Since college, the entirety of his film work hadn't netted him more than $30,000. He still couldn't get a bigger project off the ground.
Depressed and unsure, he sat in his apartment for days, watching classic movies to inspire himself again.
"I know you've heard it all before, but I have to try one more," he told his wife. "Please let me put it on the credit card and make this movie."'