It’s not really a party unless you’re sore the next day…that you feel it in your schnitzel and lower back, as you would after moving furniture, or in your neck, as you would after a long love scene with the luminous Grace Kelly.
Director: “Cut! Let’s try that one more time.”
Me: “Sure!”
Grace Kelly: “Not for a billion bucks.”
And out she’d walk, off the set and out of my life. The movie would still prove to be a major hit, but the process would bankrupt my heart.
That’s how great art works. At least in my experience. In Grace Kelly’s defense, I kiss like a jelly fish.
