cb.coldheart canyon-第13部分

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again；　with　whom　he　has　been　seen　at　parties　and　premieres　for　the　past　four　months；　though　neither　will　say　anything　about　the　relationship　than　that　they're　good　friends。
　 He　gathers　Wilhemina　to　him；　so　that　the　photographers　can　get　pictures　of　them　together。　Then　arm　in　arm；　through　the　blizzard　of　rights　and　the　barrage　of　We　love　you；　Todd　ing　at　them　from　every　side；　the　pair　make　their　way　to　the　cinema　doors；　which…having　gathered　their　most　important　guests　into　the　fold；　then　close　rather　defiantly；　as　if　to　divide　the　important　from　the　unimportant；　the　stable　and　the　solid　from　those　who　are　simply　objects　of　the　night's　wind。
　
　 Gallows　is　an　irredeemable　piece　of　shit；　of　course；　and　everyone　involved　with　it；　from　the　executives　who　green…lit　it　（at　a　cost　of　some　ninety…million　dollars；　before　prints　and　advertising　costs　add　another　thirty…seven　to　the　bill）　to　the　humblest　publicist；　knows。
　 It　is；　in　the　words　of　Corliss's　review　in　Time；　'an　old　fashioned；　action…horror　picture　which　lacks　the　full…bone　theatrics　of　grand　guignol；　and　the　savvy；　John　Woo…style　action　piece　audiences　have　e　to　expect。　One　minute　Schwarzenegger　is　camping　it　up；　the　next　Todd　Pickett；　as　his　unwilling　successor；　is　playing　his　scenes　as　though　he's　Hamlet　on　a　particularly　dreary　night　in　Denmark。　From　beginning　to　end；　Gallows　is　bad　noose。'
　 Everybody　going　up　the　red　carpet　that　Monday　night　already　knows　what　Time　is　going　to　say；　Corliss　had　made　his　contempt　for　the　picture　very　plain　in　a　piece　about　the　state　of　action　movies　he　wrote　two　weeks　before。　Nor　does　it　take　an　oracle　to　predict　that　there　will　be　others　who　will　not　like　the　picture。　But　the　extent　of　vitriol　will　prove　astonishing；　even　to　those　who　expected　the　worst。　In　the　next　forty…eight　hours；　Gallows　will　garner　some　of　the　most　negative　reviews　of　the　last　twelve　months；　the　vehemence　of　the　early　news　reviewers　empowering　minor　names　to　pull　out　the　stops。　Besides　the　inprehensible　script；　everyone　agrees；　there　is　a　lackluster　quality　to　the　picture　that　betrays　the　cast's　indifference　to　the　entire　project。　Performances　aren't　simply　uneven；　they　seemed　designed　for　entirely　different　movies：　a　hopeless　mismatch　of　styles。　The　worst　culprit　in　this　regard？　There　is　no　question　about　that。　All　the　reviewers　will　agree　that　the　most　inadequate　performance　es　from　its　star；　Todd　Pickett。
　 People　writes　that：　〃Mr。　Pickett　is　plenty　old　enough　to　know　better。　Thirty…something…year…olds　don't　act　the　way　Mr。　Pickett　acts　here：　his　trademark　'young　man　with　a　chip　on　his　shoulder　and　a　thousand…watt　smile；'　which　was　looking　stale　the　second　（all　right；　the　third）　time　he　did　it；　seems　particularly　out…of…place　here。　Though　it　seems　incredible　that　time　has　passed　so　fast　since　America　first　swooned　to　the　charms　of　Mr。　Pickett…he's　now　simply　too　old　to　play　the　twenty…something　Vincent。　Only　Wilhemina　Bosch；　as　Vincent's　Prozac…chewing　sister；　es　out　of　this　mess　with　any　credibility。　She　has　an　elegant；　beautifully…proportioned　face；　and　she　can　turn　a　line　with　the　snappy；　East…coast　smarts　of　a　young　Katherine　Hepburn。　She's　wasted　here。　Or；　more　correctly；　our　time　would　be　wasted　here　were　she　not　in　the　movie。〃
　
　 The　premiere　audience　didn't　seem　to　mind　it。　On　occasion　there　were　audible　gasps　and　loud　laughter　（perhaps　in　truth　a　little　over…loud；　a　little　fake）　for　the　jokes；　but　there　were　several　long　stretches　in　the　Second　Act；　when　the　movie　seemed　to　lose　their　interest。　Even　in　the　Third　Act；　when　the　action　relocates　to　the　orbiting　space　station；　and　the　special　effects　budget　soared；　there　was　very　little　real　enthusiasm。　A　few　scattered　whoops　of　nihilistic　delight　when　the　villain's　planet…destroying　weapon　actually　went　off；　against　expectation；　and　Washington　DC　is　fried　to　a　crisp。　But　then；　as　the　smoke　cleared　and　Todd；　as　the　new　Gallows；　proceeded　to　finish　off　the　bad　guys；　the　audience　became　restless　again。
　 About　fifteen　minutes　before　the　end　credits　rolled　a　member　of　the　audience　got　up　from　his　seat　on　the　aisle　and　went　to　the　bathroom。　A　few　people　caught　a　look　at　the　man's　face　as　he　looked　back　at　the　screen。　It　was　Todd　Pickett；　lit　by　the　light　of　his　own　face。　Nobody　got　up　to　ask　for　his　autograph。
　 Pickett　stared　at　the　screen　for　a　moment　only；　then　he　turned　his　back　on　it　and　trudged　up　and　out　of　the　cinema。　He　didn't　go　to　the　restroom。　Instead　he　asked　one　of　the　ushers　if　he　could　be　allowed　out　of　the　back　of　the　building。　The　usher　explained　that　the　area　around　the　back　had　no　security。
　 〃I　just　want　a　quiet　smoke　with　nobody　watching　me；〃　Todd　explained。
　 The　usher　said；　sure；　why　not；　and　led　Todd　down　a　passageway　that　ran　behind　the　screen。　Todd　looked　up　at　his　reversed　image　on　the　screen。　All　he　could　remember　about　the　scene　that　was　playing　was　how　damn　unfortable　his　costume　had　been。
　 〃Here　you　go；〃　the　usher　said；　unlocking　the　doors　at　the　end　of　the　corridor；　and　letting　Todd　out　into　an　area　lit　only　by　the　ambient　light　from　the　Boulevard。
　 〃Thanks；〃　Todd　said；　giving　him　a　twenty…buck　bill。　〃I'll　be　back　out　front　by　the　time　the　credits　roll。〃
　 The　usher　thanked　him　for　the　twenty…note　and　left　him　to　himself。　Todd　took　out　a　cigarette；　but　it　never　got　to　his　lips。　A　wave　of　nausea　overtook　him；　so　powerful　and　so　sudden　that　it　was　all　he　could　do　not　to　puke　down　his　own　tuxedo。　Up　came　the　scotches　he'd　had　in　the　limo　as　he　drove　on　down　to　the　premiere；　and　the　pepperoni　pizza；　with　three　cheeses　and　extra　anchovies；　he'd　had　to　add　ballast。　With　the　first　heave　over　（something　told　him　there　were　more　to　e）　he　had　the　presence　of　mind　to　look　around；　and　confirm　that　this　nasty　little　scene　was　not　being　spied　on；　or　worse；　photographed。　Luckily；　he　was　alone。　All　he　had　for　pany　back　here　was　the　detritus　of　premieres　past；　piles　of　standees　and　gaudy　scenery　pieces　designed　to　advertise　movies　gone　by：　Mel　Gibson　against　an　eruption　of　lurid　flame；　Godzilla's　eye；　the　bottom　half　of　a　girl　in　a　very　short　dress。　He　got　to　his　feet　and　stumbled　away　from　the　stench　of　his　vomit；　making　his　way　through　this　graveyard　of　old　glories；　heading　for　the　darkest　place　he　could　find　in　which　to　hide　his　giddy　head。　Behind　him；　through　the　still…open　door；　he　could　hear　the　sound　of　gunfire；　and　the　muted　sound　of　his　own　voice：
　 〃e　on　out；　you　sonofabitch；〃　he　was　yelling　to　somebody。　By　now；　if　the　movie　had　been　working；　the　audience　would　have　been　yelling　and　screaming；　wild　with　blood…lust。　But　despite　the　over…amped　soundtrack；　nobody　was　yelling；　because　nobody　gave　a　damn。　The　movie　was　dying　on　its　feet。
　 Another　wave　of　nausea　rose　up　in　him。　He　reached　out　to　catch　hold　of　something　so　that　he　didn't　fall　down　and　his　outstretched　hand　knocked　over　a　cardboard　cut…out　of　Tom　Cruise；　which　toppled　backwards　and　hit　a　cardboard　Titanic；　which　in　turn　crashed　against　a　cardboard　Mighty　Joe　Young；　and　so　on　and　so　forth；　like　a　row　of　candy…colored　dominoes；　stars　falling　against　ships　falling　against　monsters；　all　toppling　back　into　a　darkness　so　deep　they　were　an　indistinguishable　heap。
　 Luckily；　the　noise　of　his　vomiting　was　covered　by　the　din　of　his　own　movie。　He　puked　again；　twice；　until　his　stomach　had　nothing　left　to　give　up。　Then　he　turned　his　back　on　the　vomit　and　the　toppled　idols；　and　stepped　away　to　find　a　lungful　of　dean　air　to　inhale。　The　worst　was　over。　He　lit　his　cigarette；　which　helped　settle　his　stomach；　and　rather　than　returning　inside；　where　the　picture　was　two　minutes　from　finishing；　he　walked　along　side　of　the　building　until　he　found　a　patch　of　street…light　where　he　could　assess　himself。　He　was　lucky。　His　suit　was　unspattered。　There　was　a　spot　of　vomit　on　his　shoes；　but　he　cleaned　it　off　with　his　handkerchief　（which　he　tossed　away）　and　then　sprayed　his　tongue　and　throat　with　wintergreen　breath…cleanser。　His　hair　was　cropped　short　（that　was　the　way　it　was　in　the　movie；　and　he'd　kept　the　style　for　public　appearances）；　so　he　had　no　fear　that　it　was　out　of　place。　He　probably　looked　a　little　pale；　but　what　the　hell？　Pale　was　in。
　 There　was　a　gate　close　to　the　front　of　the　building；　guarded　by　a　security