I wish Marlon Brando, Stanley in Elia Kazan's 1951 film version of Tennessee Williams' 1947 play A Streetcar Named Desire, and I were friends. We could hang out together and spend most of our time snacking in front of the television or snacking and discussing the decline of American cinema. Every year when Christmas rolled around, we would exchange gifts and live it up somewhere in Hollywood's hills. His gifts to me would always be extravagant. One year, he would give me a sports car, the next a plasma television. My gifts would always be more thoughtful. One year I would give him a shirt that could not be ripped. Another year, it might be gym membership. I think he would really enjoy a cheese-of-the-month club.
But the one thing I would most like to give Marlon Brando for Christmas would be his career's revitalization. I would first have to become a successful director or producer. I would have to pull a Quentin Tarantino and give him a sort of Pulp Fiction, Travolta-like rebirth. I think America is ready to see Marlon on the big screen again, especially since the screens are bigger now. But the role has to be perfect, and he cannot be pulling his usual pranks on the set with me.
After his Academy Award win for his portrayal of an Irish immigrant in my film, it would be up to him to make movie choices that do not harm his film career in the future. This means he could not make a Battleship Earth or even something mediocre like Swordfish.
I hope Marlon and I will spend many more Christmases together and not go our separate ways after our relationship evolves from personal to professional. The plasma screens and sports cars are just too good to give up.