I have a friend named Jim who I have known since the Cambridge days of maybe 35 years ago. He went off to law school and then moved to Los Angeles and got into the film business. He ended up as president of 20th Century Fox and has enjoyed over a dozen years as head of the studio. Since they hire and fire folks by the week out there, his tenure is quite remarkable.

Anyway, to my story:

I saw "Crazy Heart" which is a release of Fox Searchlight, which Jim oversees. There is a scene toward the end of the film where the Jeff Bridges character gives a big royalty check to the female character. Now I think that she folds the envelope in half and puts it into his shirt pocket but the camera angle is from behind him and it is unclear. So I sent Jim and e-mail and asked him what happened.

He responded this morning with, "Yeah, I thought so too but it's the movie biz."

All of which reminds me of my film debut. I have a nonspeaking role in "The Gun in Betty Lou's Handbag," a wretched little piece of fluff that was made here in Oxford some years ago. I play a minister complete with black shirt and white collar. Since I am Jewish, I think that I responded well to being cast against type.

I am in a scene where 'Betty Lou' (Penelope Ann Miller) comes out of the court house and is rushing toward a car. After the scene is shot, the assistant director points to me and tells me to go stand on the opposite street corner as the car pulls away.

Now this makes no sense to me so I tell the AD (that's what they call them) that I will be visible in one scene and then also visible someplace else an instant later.

He walks up to me and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Dick," I say.

He nods his head.

"Dick," he says slowly. "It's . . . just . . . a . . . fucking . . . movie."

People who make the movies think a lot differently from the people who watch them.

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