Jon Wax '94
Hollywood Squares |
by Todd Larson
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"We probably won't get there until the middle of the second quarter. It'll be so L.A.," deadpans Jonathan Wax '94. Though the dim haze of jet lag, I appreciate the sarcasm. I've traveled 3000 miles to gather barbs just like this - to figure out how Haverford's principled and conscientious best are surviving and thriving in Hollywood's ethically-challenged and image-obsessed climate. A healthy sense of irony, I presume.
Thing is, I'm a bit too distracted by Wax's previous question to get all sanctimonious: Can we, he wonders, shift our interview from his office at Fox's Culver City studios to the courtside seats he's just scored for the Lakers game? (Only if I have time to call my roommate in Philadelphia and gloat, I think to myself.) True, I was up at 4:00 in the morning to catch my flight; some 24 hours will have passed by the time I return to my hotel from the game. And yes, I would like to catch Jon at work to get a feel for how he spends his days.
On the other hand, I've made the trip in person for just this reason. I want the True Hollywood Story, as they say - an inside peak at the glamorous, decadent lifestyle that I (as a faithful E! viewer) assume Hollywood insiders like Wax must be living. What better way to get it than by hobnobbing with Jack Nicholson and Dyan Cannon? (Lakers? Courtside? duh...) There's the whole Laker Girl thing to consider too. And the players, of course. (Of course.) "No problem," I tell Jon. Then I call my roommate. "Glad to see you're working hard," he jokes.
As we head south on the 101 in Wax's well-worn Subaru wagon, he tells me about his job as a development assistant in primetime programming at Fox. His office, he explains, is responsible for reviewing scripts, ordering pilots, and ultimately deciding which of those pilots will get developed into series that end up on the air. (He makes it clear that he deals with scripted programming and not such Fox staples as When Animals Attack or Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire? ) He spends the bulk of his 12-hour days reading scripts, fielding pitches, and attending to the details of his division's current development deals, all in hopes of giving life to the next Malcolm in the Middle, Fox's latest sitcom hit. When Wax is not working he's, well, working - reading more scripts, screening more pilots. Even his social life, including the occasional Lakers game, serves primarily as an excuse for networking and pressing the flesh with potential writers and producers.
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It occurs to me that Wax, despite his genuine hospitality and his protestations to the contrary, is a bit of a player himself. He seems energized by his seat at Hollywood's high-stakes table, satisfied with his ability to ante up with the best of the competition. "I felt protected at Haverford, where everyone seems to be looking out for everyone's well-being," he claims. "Hollywood truly is sink or swim. Even the nicest people have to develop an aggressive nature to stay afloat." Keeping one's head above water, it appears, is a victory in itself.
Yet for all his hard work and his evident affinity for show-biz gamesmanship, Wax simultaneously manages to remain detached from his career, in Hollywood but not of it. "At the end of day," he explains, "I try not to take my job too seriously. I mean, it's television. It's entertainment. What I get to do is a really fun way to make a living. I'm lucky to be doing it, but we're not curing cancer."
As I'll discover, Wax is not alone in his self-deprecatory (or cynical - I can't decide which) sentiment. Nor will it be the last time I'll witness such bemused detachment. But by the time he drops me off at my hotel, I've frankly got something else to worry about: it's raining. Raining!