Hunting in Hollywood

Simon first became acquainted with the Hollywood director Kathryn Bigelow after her success with "The Hurt Locker" in 2010, which won the Oscar for Best Picture.

His initial impression of Kathryn Bigelow was her appearance. At the 2010 Oscars, wearing a linen-colored silk gown, Kathryn appeared only about thirty years old, her figure and aura overshadowing most actresses on the red carpet.

However, Kathryn Bigelow was actually born in 1951. Even in the present year of 1986, she was already 35 years old.

Simon could only marvel that the world never lacked beings who could resist the ravages of time.

Then, there were her films.

After that year's Oscars, Simon made it a point to watch several of Kathryn Bigelow's movies.

To be fair, most of her films were mediocre, but the rough, totemic quality of her work, like ancient stone carvings, left a deep impression. It seemed she used her distinctly masculine cinematic language to tell audiences that what men could do, she could do, and what men couldn't do, she could still accomplish.

Simon even felt that the gender assertiveness Kathryn Bigelow exhibited through her films bordered on obsession.

The bus resumed its journey, heading south along California Highway One.

After a brief nod, Kathryn returned all her attention to the manuscript in front of her. Simon, curious, glanced at it and judged from the layout that it was likely a screenplay. He refrained from disturbing her.

Over an hour passed this way until Kathryn turned the last page of her manuscript. Only then did Simon speak up, asking, "Is that a screenplay?"

Women often have sharp instincts. During her reading, Kathryn had felt the young man beside her glancing her way from time to time. As a beautiful woman, she was used to being approached and thought little of it.

However, since he had not disturbed her until she finished, Kathryn felt a slight fondness for him and nodded with a smile, "Yes."

Despite her response, Kathryn wasn't inclined to engage in much conversation.

The young man, although handsome and more mature than his peers, was clearly still just a teenager. She couldn't help but think her friends would laugh if they knew a boy this young was trying to chat her up.

As she was about to turn her gaze out the window to politely disengage, Simon continued, "Actually, I have a screenplay too. Maybe we could swap and read each other's to pass the time. It's still a few hours to Los Angeles."

Saying this, Simon quickly stood up, retrieved a manuscript from his backpack on the overhead rack, and showed it to Kathryn.

Kathryn was surprised by Simon's unexpected proposal but still categorized his action as an attempt at making conversation. She was about to decline outright when she glanced at the title of Simon's screenplay and her curiosity piqued, she asked, "The Butterfly Effect, what does that mean?"

"This was a hypothetical example used by Edward Lorenz, a meteorology professor at MIT, to describe his theory," Simon explained, handing over the manuscript. "Professor Lorenz suggested that the flapping of a butterfly's wings in the Amazon basin in South America could set off a chain reaction of atmospheric events leading to a tornado in Texas."

Kathryn listened to Simon's explanation and shook her head, "A butterfly causing a tornado? How is that possible?"

Simon replied, "Professor Lorenz was using it to illustrate how a small variable could have a massive impact on a system. And actually, I think it's quite possible; we just can't prove it yet."

Kathryn hummed softly, not one to argue, and found herself holding the script titled "The Butterfly Effect," intrigued, she opened it.

Feeling the young man's eyes on her, she remembered his earlier words and hesitated but then handed over her own script.

It was just as he said, a way to pass the time.

Kathryn quickly skimmed the first few pages of the script in her hands, then flipped through more, confirming something.

The entire script, including the cover title, was handwritten in a print-like neat English font. This surprised her again and made her glance at Simon, who had shifted his attention to his own manuscript. In an era when typewriters were common office tools, such patience to handwrite over a hundred pages of a script—and do so beautifully—was rare.

Unaware of Kathryn's thoughts, Simon's handwritten script was a necessity born of circumstance; living in a mental hospital, even if he were allowed a typewriter, he couldn't afford one.

As Simon opened Kathryn's script, he recognized it as her directorial debut, "Near Dark." He had come across a synopsis of the film after "The Hurt Locker" won its award but had never watched the movie.

Delving deeper into the reading, Simon quickly grasped the gist of the story.

A young farmer from Oklahoma named Caleb falls in love with

 Mae, who is actually a vampire and impulsively turns Caleb into one as well.

Kidnapped by Mae's vampire associates, Caleb is forced to wander the earth, immortal yet disillusioned, seeking a way out while his father and sister, left behind, tirelessly search for him.

Meanwhile, after finishing the last page of her script, Kathryn looked up and saw Simon methodically flipping through her own script, feeling a sudden impulse to snatch it back from him.

Although she didn't like the overly pessimistic undertone of "The Butterfly Effect," she had to admit that its ingenious, tightly-knit plot was far superior to "Near Dark," which was merely a simple love story cloaked in vampirism, riddled with plot holes even she couldn't fix.

Quietly waiting for Simon to finish, Kathryn couldn't help but ask in an almost consultative tone, "What do you think?"

Simon pondered a moment and said, "I really liked the scene where Caleb kneels before Mae to drink blood from her wrist. It has an ethically transgressive feel, probably inspired by the image of a lamb nursing, which will surely be poignant on screen."

Kathryn was surprised by Simon's detailed response. While "Near Dark" was not entirely her writing, the scene Simon described was her creation. Many moviegoers tend to overinterpret a film beyond the director's intent, but Simon's understanding matched her vision perfectly. Coming from an art background, she often incorporated symbolic imagery into her scripts.

"So," she hesitated before asking directly, "do you think there's anything that could be improved in the script?"

Simon was taken aback by her question but quickly responded, "Perhaps, changing the farm to a ranch might work. There are many scenes set on the farm in the script, but visually, a ranch covered in meadows would be more picturesque."

Kathryn considered this and then asked, "What about the ending, where Caleb and Mae turn back into humans? Do you have a better approach for that?"

The plot of "Near Dark" where the protagonists revert to human form through a blood transfusion was indeed far-fetched.

However, Simon shook his head, "You've probably revised this script many times already, right? If it were changeable, I wouldn't be seeing this plot now. There's really no way to change it without overturning the entire second half of the script, which would be a different story altogether."

Kathryn nodded, understanding Simon's point but still appearing somewhat disappointed.

Seeing her expression, Simon added, "Actually, there is one more thing that could be tweaked."

Kathryn looked up again, "Oh?"

"The male lead's name," Simon said with a smile. "Did you know? Caleb comes from Hebrew, meaning 'fierce dog.' It's a bit too rustic. Perhaps changing it would be better."

Kathryn caught on to his joking tone and smiled back, "You know Hebrew, then?"

"Yes, quite fluently. So, I'm bound to do very well in Hollywood."

Hebrew is the ethnic language of Jews, and as it is well known, Hollywood is dominated by Jews. Being fluent in Hebrew would definitely endear Simon to many in Hollywood's Jewish community.

In fact, thanks to the memories of the twelve others he inherited, not only did Simon know Hebrew, but his English and Mandarin were even more proficient, and he also spoke German, French, and Spanish, covering the world's major languages. Even if he chose to be a translator, he would be among the elite.

Kathryn sensed Simon's shift in topic, slightly rolling her eyes internally, yet finding the young man evasive in critiquing her script. Perhaps compared to his "The Butterfly Effect," "Near Dark" really wasn't much to talk about.

Simon wasn't reluctant to offer more suggestions; he was quite familiar with the strengths and weaknesses of Kathryn's works.

The issue was, they were still strangers. Should he advise her to tone down the aggressive gender themes in her works, to embrace a more nuanced female perspective?

How would he know whether a beautiful woman's film lacked delicacy?

Guessing?

That would give too much away.

However, Kathryn wasn't one to press, and she casually followed Simon's earlier topic, "What do you think would be a better name for Caleb?"

"Simon, how about that?"

Kathryn was puzzled, "Simon? Is there something special about that name?"

Simon extended his hand with a smile, "Simon Westeros, ma'am. May I know your name?"

Realizing it was his own name, Kathryn smiled and introduced herself while shaking his hand, "Kathryn Bigelow."

She then asked curiously, "Westeros, that's a rare surname. You know Hebrew, so is it a Jewish surname?"

"No," Simon shook his head, "it's just my surname."

Westeros was a term coined by George Martin, meant to appear in his books a decade later.

 So, Simon was undoubtedly the only 'Westeros' in the world at that moment.

Kathryn could sense a subtle pride in Simon's voice, but it didn't bother her.

He had created a screenplay like "The Butterfly Effect," could casually discuss a professor's theory from MIT, and mastered an uncommon language like Hebrew. A young man of such caliber had every right to be proud.