“Mr. Assange, I am a huger fan, and I’ve been waiting to meet you for some time.”
“Please, call me Julian.”
“It’s Oliver dude.” They released hands.
“Step into my office Oliver.” Assange led him inside. The cameras kept clicking until they shut the door. They took a left into the first room. It looked like an over-sized broom closet with bookshelves. “Welcome to my Hobbit hole. Please, have a seat.” Stone squeezed thru stacks of papers and sat in the only chair opposite a tiny desk.
“Man, what a circus,” Stone said. Assange smirked and drew the curtains. “At least you got a window.”
“Simple pleasures.” Assange sighed, still smirking.
“Speaking of that, do you mind if I smoke?” Stone pulled out a joint.
“Not at all,” said Assange.
“Do you indulge?” asked Stone.
“Maybe another time when my situation isn’t so complicated, but thanks.”
“Thank you.” Stone lit up and cracked the window, careful to keep the smoke from filling the room. After a few pulls and massive exhales, he put it out, leaned back in his chair and picked up where they left off. “Your situation is quite complicated. I’m lucky. I’ve been making movies my whole life about whatever I wanted, and so far, no one’s been able to stop me…and even more lucky, the public continues to love me.”
“I still think ‘JFK’ was my favorite,” said Assange.
“Oh, I got some details wrong,” admitted Stone, scratching his head, “but based on the media outcry afterwards, it was interesting to note who was on the side of fact and who was on the side of fiction. As a result, I ended up procuring amazing allies and shadowy enemies. I’ve learned a lot since then, and I’ve been waiting for the next big controversy that interests me.”
Wait for it, thought Assange.
“How would you feel about me tackling your story?” asked Stone.
A wave of adrenaline shot thru Assange. This is what miracles feel like, he thought. Work, work, work, trust, trust, trust, stick to your ethics…then Oliver Stone walks in and asks to make a movie about it. “I would honored good sir. How can I help?”
“Well,” began Stone, “I’ve been reading anything and everything about you I can get my hands on, rumors, state sponsored propaganda, and of course all your leaks. So far, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re doing all this for the right reasons and the US government is scared shitless that if you keep doing it, your cause will catch on and pick up speed, and they might have to come face to face with the world demanding they change. In the making of this film, my goal will be to juxtapose your motive with the government’s motive…but that doesn’t mean I will portray anyone as evil.”
“Ahhh, ‘nobody knows what’s it’s like, to be the bad man,'” sang Assange quoting ‘The Who’. “I’m comfortable with that. I know I talk the big talk about corruption and immorality within government, but I do accept that in their hearts of hearts, these people think they are the good guys.”
“Exactly,” continued Stone. “I’ve demonized many of them in my career, but the more I direct, the more I view empathy as the path to understanding them. If that enables faster change, so be it.”
“So be it,” Assange agreed.
“I’ve watched all your interviews, so I have a thorough scope of your personal philosophy. Is there anything else I need to know? Is there any more poignant information that would make my movie have an edge on the competition?”
“Are you speaking of ‘We Steal Secrets’?” asked Assange. “I wouldn’t consider them competition. They’re spinning me into a pop-star wannabe-spy trying to destroy America. It’s just sound bytes and video clips interpreted by biased narrators who lead the viewers to the conclusion I’m the bad guy. Pure rubbish. On the other hand,” Assange thought for a second, oh, why the bloody hell not? He stood up, got on top of his chair and slid a ceiling tile back. After reaching inside, he pulled out a small black zip drive. “Can I trust you with this?”
Stone smiled. “Is this what I think it is?”
“All the leaks yet to be released are right here. Although I have them saved in other places with other people, I give you the right to use them as you wish.”
“I have your blessing then?” asked Stone.
Zip drive in palm, Assange offered it within a handshake. “Pretty please, with sprinkles on top.”
Stone shook his hand while retrieving the drive. “It’s wonderful to have finally met you man. I’ll do my best to make you proud, and by the way, thanks for doing the right thing.” He grabbed his stuff and prepared to leave.
“Just out of curiosity,” Assange asked, “who’s on your short list of actors to play me?”
Stone flashed a crooked grin while standing in the doorway. “Who would you like?”
Assange paused, “I always thought Heath Ledger would do me justice.”
“Sorry dude,” Stone chuckled. “Even I don’t have that kind of pull.”
