Sarah and the Stomp...

Dear Juliet

Well, I've spent nearly six months saying you yourself are worthwhile, that you're not a transaction and I'd give it all up (Dear Miss Landau and the Dru Quartet) for you.

And it's all true.

I still like writing to you, and you mean the world to me.

But okay, I've picked up that Paramount may be upping sticks and moving. I did and do suspect that Sarah Michelle Gellar may be much more gutted than she's admitting about the Buffy sequel stomp on the glorious 14th (three years work with Chloé Zhao straight down the drain, apparently) and I've just seen her little tête-à-tête with David Boreanaz at the Emmys.

I've got quite good at looking behind the Hollywood mask, seeing the barest flicker of an eyelid which even the most professional performer cannot quite hide, which shows how they're really feeling.

So I'm sitting here feeling a little bemused, but that's it. I've made my offer, I'll help you anyway (no transaction) but there's nothing much more I can do on my own and that's where we are.

You're my dear Miss Landau, and that's all there is to it.

Er, well, there we are.

I acknowledge the lost story arc might go down like a lead balloon, but Rocky and I Play Rocky are niggling in the corners of the windmills of my mind and I wonder if whether, amidst the wreckage of Hollywood, you've got a contender, you've got a chance...

Um, any thoughts?

Love,

James