The “excruciating” experience Fiona Apple had with Paul Thomas Anderson and Quentin Tarantino
It was a moody night in the home of Quentin Tarantino in the late 1990s. Outside, a racoon gleefully plotted a route into a neighbouring house. The moon flirted with the idea of being a perfect crescent, and on the front porch, Paul Thomas Anderson and his reluctant girlfriend, Fiona Apple, patiently waited to be allowed inside. The Pulp Fiction director sported the same red satin robe he had worn in the Palme d’Or winning movie, providing the only layer between him and his trembling birthday suit as he strutted towards the door to the tune of ‘I’m So Excited’ by The Pointer Sisters.
Indeed, this was the night he and Anderson had been plotting for weeks. They were to eat a selected assortment of nibbles provided by KFC and dive into a world of cinema where they would wash each other with their knowledge of the silver screen. Why Apple had chosen to come was anybody’s guess. Truthfully, Tarantino had only asked Anderson if Apple would like to come out of pure courtesy. If it were his choice, he would genuinely prefer it if she had stayed home so that he could break down the aesthetic beauty of the humble Laserdisc without fear of judgment.
As she stepped through the door and onto the plush kind of furry carpet that would poke in-between the toes if she had been barefoot, she had unknowingly walked into a waking nightmare which she would later describe as “excruciating”. For now, things were normal as Quentin ushered her through the door, clearly so excited to stick a DVD on that he was unable to keep the saliva contained within his mouth.
Though it would be unfair to point out Tarantino’s deranged excitement without also mentioning Anderson’s fixation on the host’s set-up, he had, after all, been fantasising about what angle the Pulp Fiction director might have his wide-screen TV at during the whole car journey, barely able to sit still in his seat, much like a child on his way to McDonald’s.
The screen itself did not disappoint, either, “70 inches”, Anderson instantly assessed in his mind before Tarantino corrected him: “72 inches of pure cinematic possibility, what will it be first? Brian De Palma’s Blow Out or Sergio Leone’s For a Few Dollars More?”. Anderson’s legs wobbled under the excitement of such a proposal, while Apple instantly regretted her choice to tag along, hoping she might have had some say as to what movie should be shown.
Alas, Tarantino and Anderson had this all figured out. The coffee table was neatly ordered with a tray of nibbles, three whiskey glasses were set, and lines of cocaine that Tarantino lovingly referred to as “Deep Impact” had been readied. The pair of directors were ready for a night of intellectual conversation and the odd guilty discussion about what might happen in George Lucas’ forthcoming Star Wars prequel trilogy.
Seeing what was on the horizon, Apple soon realised her only hope to keep up with their utter drug-fuelled waffle was cocaine and began sniffing lines as if hoping that each one was movie trivia from the web pages of IMDb. Yet, to her amazement, she was already too late from the moment Tarantino pressed play on Leone’s For a Few Dollars More. The directorial duo had already engaged in a conversation so impenetrably outlandish that it was impossible to penetrate.
Her task was as impossible as catching up to a 40mph Land Rover on a tricycle, so instead of using her mental stamina, she relaxed into Tarantino’s black leather sofa and endured what could only be described as utterly “excruciating”. The room was spinning, and for what seemed like hours, Anderson and Tarantino took centre stage in a hellish performance in which they outlined the perfections of Robert Bresson, the flaws of the spoof comedy and why Jacques Tati was the perfect choice to make (and star in) an adaptation of Dr Seuss’ The Cat in the Hat.
It was during the moment when the pair decided, in a giddy fit of childish excitement, to storyboard the opening of their proposed remake of Jaws, starring Bette Davis as the primordial shark, that Apple decided to make a promise to herself. What she saw in front of her was so disturbing, so off-putting, and so utterly bizarre that she swore never to do cocaine ever again.
Later, reflecting on that curious night, she would state: “Every addict should just get locked in a private movie theatre with Q.T. and P.T.A. on coke, and they’ll never want to do it again.” Still, we wouldn’t recommend this as a viable method to wean yourself off the white stuff.
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