Jodie Foster Led Me to Hollywood

As a kid, watching Jodie Foster on the big screen awakened the green monster of jealousy in me. She was where I wanted to be: Hollywood.

Never mind I didn’t have what it took to be a child actress. I wasn’t pretty, cute, or adorable. I wasn’t even precocious. Yet I had the desire to be in movies from a young age. Georgia, far removed from Hollywood—and having only a minuscule inkling of a film industry at that time—offered little opportunity for such large ambitions.

I kept a scrapbook of photos of all my favorite movie stars: Doris Day, Julie Andrews, Debbie Reynolds, Jimmy Stewart, Rock Hudson et al. Jodie Foster was not among them.

Into adulthood, Hollywood was my destination.

Before I was 10 years old (when I officially decided I was a writer), I wrote and performed little skits for my family at Christmas. Until one year, my mother pulled me aside and suggested I do my “thing” after opening the gifts.

In my little film-induced brain, the entertainment came first: A “build-up,” if you will, prior to opening presents. That’s how they did it in the movies.

Her discouragement quashed my desire to perform for my family at Christmas. But it didn’t eradicate my desire to work in film.

At the age of 25, I made the decision to pursue my most ardent desire: attend film school in Los Angeles and work in the film industry. By this time, I had come to realize I wasn’t cut out to be in front of the camera. I settled on being the next best thing: Director.

My first thought upon approaching Los Angeles was "I drove 2,300 miles for this?" A gray smog blanketed the city, giving the buildings a worn-out look. Upon driving up to my apartment building (apartment rented, sight unseen), I was immediately accosted by homeless people asking for money. In my hometown, at that time, we had no homeless people. I refrained from giving to one because if I gave to one, I would have to give to all.

My apartment was a studio with a Murphy bed (a bed that folded into the wall). Through my living room windows, I could see Hollywood Boulevard, the Frederick’s of Hollywood sign, a neon purple at night. An avocado tree grew just outside one of those windows. I had never had an avocado before and the apartment manager retrieved one for me just after I moved in. It wasn’t ripe and, for years, I didn’t know how an avocado really tasted. Now I love avocados, as long as they’re ripe.

The congestion in Hollywood and Los Angeles was something of a shock. Traffic was bumper to bumper no matter where you went. Friday nights, Hollywood Boulevard was a parking lot as teenagers cruised to see and be seen and tourists walked the streets in droves, especially on weekends and during the summer months.

Film school turned out to be a real disappointment. I learned that none of the courses I took were recognized or credited by any other school, in California or elsewhere, even though the school was accredited. At least, the school claimed to be accredited.

One of the students at the school invited me to a party hosted by someone in the film industry. No big names would be there; it was basically a party for a bunch of other film students.

Being an introvert, this was probably not a good idea for me. But I was trying desperately to reach out beyond my comfort zone, so off to the party I went. I didn’t do much talking, but it gave me the perfect opportunity to observe. And learn.

I watched the girl who invited me as she spoke and laughed with numerous people. Then I listened as she proceeded to rip them apart afterwards. I asked her why she was nice to them, or even spoke to them, if she didn’t like them.

“It’s how you play the game,” she said.

A game. I should have known it was all a game.

My personality has never been such that I pretend to be anyone or anything other than who I am. I wear my heart on my sleeve. When I don’t like someone, I make little pretense about it. This comes from being a person of directness. I like knowing where things stand, as this helps me make more informed decisions. The decisions I make may not always be the right ones, but at least I have the information I need and know what I’m getting into regardless of the decision I make.

What on earth made me think the film industry would be a place for someone like me? A place where people are nice to your face but can’t stand you behind your back. How could I be so naïve?

Twenty-five years is too old to be naïve. But my ignorance was a wake-up call.

I stopped attending film school after the first semester. Not only because I saw no reason to waste time and money on a school whose course credits I couldn’t transfer, but also because I just didn’t feel I fit into that scene (in a manner of speaking). I was still enamored with the film industry—at least as far as the enjoyment of watching movies is concerned—but I was more determined to live on my own than I was determined to pursue a career in film.

I continued working my data entry job but kept my eyes and ears open. Maybe I could still get my foot in the door and work behind the scenes rather than behind the camera. No matter the position, it was bound to pay better than a dead-end data entry job.

When my dad passed away in 1988, the dreaded umbilical cord of guilt—which I had hoped to cut—dragged me back to Georgia.

For a long time, I missed California. Despite the noise, the crowds, the congestion it represented independence.

Oddly, during this time, I began to realize what a tough cookie Jodie Foster really was. To grow up in that atmosphere and still retain a sense of who she is; to not make that superficial world her world, but to still make her place in it without compromise is astounding.

This is not to say the whole of Hollywood is superficial. Beneath the glitz and glamour, the promise of fame and fortune, there are actors who remain genuine, regardless of the influence of the industry. They remain true to themselves under any circumstances.

But Hollywood has always had a reputation: a veneered surface beneath which lies, not the promised glitz and glamour, but broken hearts and broken dreams.

There was a time when I considered compromising just to be a part of it; sacrificing my true nature to be a name on a movie screen.

Jealousy of Jodie Foster has led to respect: for not allowing the Hollywood influence to distract or interfere with her living the life she wanted.

Few child actors can make this claim. Far too many are drawn into the darker side of Hollywood: drugs, sex, violence, the party scene. Far too many have overdosed, ended up broke, or committed suicide because of the siren call of that limelight.

But a few, such as Lisa Jakub (Mrs. Doubtfire, Independence Day), and Ariana Richards (Jurassic Park)—like Jodie Foster—lived life on their terms after their days as child actors were done.

Lisa Jakub has her own blog and is a published author. Ariana Richards is an accomplished and talented artist. They’re both all grown up and their looks have changed (still pretty, but different), but they are women independent of the film industry and doing exactly what they want to do. Their lives are not defined by the work they did on camera. And that was their choice: a choice which proves there is life beyond Hollywood. A life rich with purpose and meaning.

It takes a strong, determined person to grow up in the film industry and still live life on her/his terms. And to succeed at something other than being in front of a camera.

But it also takes a strong, determined person to acknowledge that s/he is not suited to the Hollywood life. There is an inherent strength of character to walk away from what you thought was your dream and decide you want to be something else: That you are meant to be something else.

I don’t regret living in Hollywood for a year and a half. It was an eye-opening experience in a world worlds away from my hometown in Georgia. It was a time of growth and getting new perspective on my life. I learned more about myself during that time than I had prior to living there.

I am grateful I tried to pursue a career in film. I cannot regret something if I at least tried it, especially if I learned something from it. If it hadn’t been for my ill-placed jealousy of Jodie Foster, I probably would never have made the attempt.

But I’m also grateful to have learned that wanting to be like someone else is not a fulfilling life. And just being myself is the greatest gift I can give to myself or anyone else.

Loving movies is all fine and good. But I’ll enjoy them from my side of the television screen.

Pen is a published author with 30 titles to her credit, both in print and digital formats. For more information, visit her website, Nero's Fiddle.