skiddoo. We talked Thursday morning to J.B., who was the production manager on the big-budget Buck Adams disaster, er, film. What we gather from the conversation, you can start blowing taps at Arlington. It was supposed to have been a two-part film with ten sex scenes shot over a ten-day schedule. Five sex scenes were shot in three days, but tons of dialogue scenes, establishing shots and the remaining five sex scenes never got done. Doesn't look like they ever will. "What there is right now is a really expensive compilation," J.B. said.
J.B.: "I have spoken to the partner but not to the investment banker, who, for some strange reason, is not returning phone calls. Basically, when production was shut down, there was a certain dollar amount that was owed for goods and services for cast, crew, rentals, etc. That was all submitted the Wednesday after the big blow-up day which was well documented. They've [the investment people] hemmed and hawed like they have done since Day 1. They never met a deadline and have come up with about half of what they owe. Which was kind of distributed almost alphabetically.
"Basically these guys like to throw meetings and paperwork at all problems but not necessarily solve them. When I was promised checks for everybody on a Tuesday which was a couple of weeks ago, that was stretched out to a Thursday meeting in which checks were promised. At that meeting I was told nobody was being paid until the following week. At that point, I said I'm not going to leave this fucking office without something. You guys might be the bankers, but you're the unknown faces. I'm the guy who made all the deals. I'm getting the heat from everybody. I'm just a working guy.
"We came out of the meeting with about half of what was outstanding. Basically, I started on page one of the seven pages of payroll and paid in order. There's a remaining 12 or 13 people owed. For somebody who's worth a few million dollars, I find that stupid and insulting that where is the money for the people who worked on the movie?
"At this time I just got off the phone with Tom, one of the partners. We are right now in the process of deciding our next move. I need to get everyone paid who still has money outstanding - that is the talent, Jim South, Ron Vogel for grip gear and Kevin Beech for advertising. Kevin Beech underwrote the ad for AVN. They didn't pay him either. I tried to get this across, that what they've done is scripted this in the most horrific way. Did somebody script this to make this as fucked up as possible? In order to continue in any way, shape or form, they're going to need talent, they're going to need Jim. You've just built every obstacle you possibly can.
"Anyway, as of a conversation I had this morning, the banker hadn't called back. Tom said he's calling him three times a day. He's not returning phone calls. I got off the phone this morning with Tyce Bune who's a great guy but I gotta listen to shit all day long and it's driving me crazy. I totally understand. I've been there. I had to sue Sin City last year to get paid. It took me six months and really fucked my life up. I know what it's like. I've been on that road not knowing how to pay the friggin' rent. Unfortunately J.B. did the hiring. J.B. doesn't have the money to write the checks but he gets all the heat.
"I'm kind of like 24 hours away from drawing the line in the sand. There are some legal issues. People haven't signed releases. Ultimately who owns the footage? I'm trying to figure out a way to force the issue. If people got to go to small claims court over this, there's about seven different 'stalls' involved where you can drag it out for six more months. I don't care to do that with people I work with every week. I'm an honorable dude. People might call me a dick but nobody's gonna say I robbed them. I'm not going to start now. It's put me in a situation where I don't know what to do. I can hit somebody in the head with a baseball bat.
"I don't know what to do. I'm basically trying to recover the costs of getting monies owed. I want nothing ever to do with this again. I can't say it enough. I cannot have this invade my life four to six hours a day. That's what it is. It's completely invasive. I shot some stuff for Michael Zen last week, and from a couple of people I've known for 14 or 15 years I'm getting, 'Are you sure you're going to pay me for this one?' Maybe they're kidding. Maybe they're just saying that, but that gets me. I don't like to hear that. I've taken a bullet for some of these companies. On a personal level it bothers me - I'm the guy who didn't pay people. I'm doing my best, but that means nothing in this business. Time will tell and I will be vindicated. I will get everybody paid somehow.
"I was the production manager but we know what that means in this business - I produced the fuckin' thing, the location, people, cast, crew, that's what I'm saying. When they bounced a check on the film supplier, I did the ordering. I know the guy. I got the relationship. I buy film for lots of different people. When that check bounced, it was J.B. who made the call. Now where I had a guy who gave me a better price than Kodak and who brought it out to the set for me and took a company check, now I'm a typical porno fuckhead that needs cash or a cashier's check. It doesn't matter what you've done. If you've been an angel for your whole life and do one fuckin' deal like this, I'm shit. I'm trying to do the right thing. It's a mess and I'm in the middle of it."
G. Ross: "Have you talked to Buck since all this went down?"
J.B.: "Once or twice. We had to have further meetings. 'Cause meetings are what you need to do, to waste as much time as possible going over the same issues that don't get resolved. I would hate to think that I would walk outside and get hit by a bus and die and the last moments of my life were spent dealing with Buck Adams' problems."
