 | 'How would you feel if things were reset in America?" asked Rosie, one of the producers. "I think that would be great," I said. And I did. The world of films was new to me. But one thing I could work out on my own was that Yes Man, a story about a former BBC radio producer living in a flat in Bow who ends up on Richard & Judy and has a picture on his wall of him and a small dog, might not be the key ingredients for a blockbuster comedy. Call it a hunch. What was important to me was the feel of the film. The book was one thing. It'll never change. It's done. But here was a chance to create something entirely new, for an entirely new audience. Something that still held on to its key message, but did so in a different way. Because surely it's better to have two new things in the world than two things the same? That was what excited me. And eight or nine weeks later, an email arrived, marked "YES MAN - First Draft". I printed it out immediately, and read it. And it made me laugh. And I put it down, went to make a cup of tea, and then sat back down and read it all again. Cut to two years later. The final version of the script has been signed off. Everyone is happy with it. Several versions have fallen by the wayside, or been adapted or developed or moved on somehow. Some kept my favourite moments from the book; others lost them and took the story elsewhere. But this one - this is the one they're going with. I've been out to LA once or twice in the meantime, to meet Tiffany, one of the glamorous and powerful producers. She is cool. The first time we met, she took me to a strange but hip restaurant where everyone ordered a different dish but all the meals looked precisely the same. We met writers, and producers, and then I went back to my hotel and ordered a hamburger. But this time I'm here for another reason entirely. To watch Yes Man being filmed. And also ... to meet its star. I'd been in New Zealand with Lizzie, my wife, when I'd had the call. Jim Carrey had had the book. He'd had the script. He'd had the meetings. And now ... he was in. "Jim Carrey!" I'd said, to Lizzie, as we walked along a beach on a blustery Great Barrier Island. "Jim Carrey!" "I know," she'd said, delighted, and shaking her head. "Jim Carrey!" I'd stopped walking, and made her stop walking too, and I'd looked at her. "Jim Carrey!" I'd said. And now, just six months later, and on the other side of the world, here I was in LA, in a sleek and slick black limo, jetlagged but happy, and about to go on set. Warner Bros had been good to me. I was an associate producer on the film, given ready access to scripts, asked interesting questions (like "Do you mind if we change your name in the movie to Carl? It just sounds more believable"), flown first class, picked up by Town Cars, and staying in fine hotels. In the past couple of months, things had been moving forward apace. Tiffany would call up, and update me on who else had signed up to be in the film. Zooey Deschanel. Terence Stamp. Bradley Cooper. But more than that ... suddenly there were editors. And set decorators. And first assistant directors. There was an art department. A stunt department! An animal trainer! A Korean coach! In fact ... there were hundreds of people. Including a great director. Peyton Reed, the director, was probably the first person I saw on set. Not that I realised it was a set at first EXT. WARNER BROS. STUDIOS, HOLLYWOOD. MORNING. DANNY and TIFFANY walk across the lot, passing a parking space marked G. CLOONEY. It is mid-morning and they've just witnessed several dozen striking writers and a man with both arms in plaster who is either very unlucky or working on ER. They enter a huge brown building with STAGE 23 written on its side. 70s-STYLE MIX TO: INT. STAGE 23. MORNING. Immediately, they find themselves in a log-cabin-style bar. Cameramen are moving around, and some people sit at tables, drinking beers. PEYTON REED stands at one end of the bar, pointing at things. Danny looks around in awe. DANNY: That's nice. TIFFANY: What's nice? DANNY: The way there's a lovely bar here for the actors to relax in. TIFFANY: This ... uh, this is a set. DANNY: Sorry? TIFFANY: A set. This is a specially built set. This isn't a bar. We made this. TIFFANY looks appalled by DANNY. DANNY realises his mistake, and attempts to play it off. DANNY: Yes. That's what I meant. When I said that. That's what I was saying. TIFFANY: What was? DANNY [changing the subject]: I like films, do you like films? "Danny, this is Peyton Reed," said Tiffany, and I shook the hand of the man in front of me, firmly. "Hi, Danny!" he said. "I hope you like what we're doing with your book!" "I'm in a bar!" I said. "So far, you seem to have nailed it." And there, over his shoulder, I saw an incredibly familiar figure. He was tall, and casually dressed, and he was reading some pieces of paper. It was Jim Carrey. Jim Carrey! From the films! Jim Carrey who I'd loved ever since seeing him in In Living Color on pirated videos my friends in America had sent me! Jim Carrey from The Mask! Jim Carrey who was so great in The Truman Show, and Liar Liar, and Dumb & Dumber and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and the hugely underrated The Majestic! It was Jim Carrey! I looked away, not wanting to bother him, but a second later, he was right in front of me. "Hey, man," he said. "I'm Jim!" And we started to talk. When I get back to the hotel, I switch on the TV. The entertainment news is on. Someone has managed to record Jim out and about, filming a scene. "And it's all in aid of his new movie, Yes Man," says the reporter. It's an incredibly strange moment. The producers had given me a trailer as big as my old flat, with a plasma screen and its own bedroom and bathroom. More exciting even than that was the day I arrived to find my own director's-style chair, with YES MAN on one side, and DANNY WALLACE on the other. I was suddenly a Hollywood big-shot with literally no experience or useful purpose. But it was great. Later that day - a particularly hot one - an ice-cream truck turns up out of the blue, handing out limitless free ice creams to cast and crew. Jim has bought it for the day, and given it to the production. On other days, I'd walk around the lot with Richard Zanuck - legendary producer of Jaws and Butch Cassidy - listening to stories and laughing. I'd eat lunch with Tiffany or mess about with Rhys Darby, or share a joke with Zooey Deschanel - who I suddenly realised was the same size, wearing the same kind of clothes and had the same haircut as Lizzie. I recorded some backstage interviews for the DVD, and messed around with the crew, and then, one day, it was time for my very own feature film debut. INT. THE BIGFOOT LODGE, LA. NIGHT. ROONEY and TILLIE are at the bar, getting ready for their scene. Next to them is a man who looks fairly out of place. He is the only man drinking from an English pint glass. This is DANNY , preparing for his role as MAN AT BAR . He looks a bit odd. American film actor JIM CARREY approaches Danny and rests his hand on his shoulder, staring soulfully into his eyes. JIM CARREY: You ready? DANNY: I am. Prepare yourself. You are about to witness something very powerful indeed. JIM CARREY: First time's free, my man. You'll get the taste. This is just the beginning. DANNY: Try and keep your eyes off my performance. It will be tricky. JIM CARREY: Break a leg, dude. Soon, my first trip is at an end. I feel as if I've made some great new friends. I'll be returning in a matter of weeks to witness more filming, and I'll be back for the wrap party, too ... But it still feels sad to go. It seems so strange that a little adventure I've had has led to such a big thing. I say goodbye to Tiffany, and to Katterli, and to Marty, and to everyone else I've met, and I start to leave. On the way to the car, I bump into Jim. "So, you're off?" "I am," I say. "Thanks for everything." We shake hands, and say goodbye, and then Jim gets into his big SUV, and his bodyguard drives him away. As I get to the gates, I notice a group of tourists around me fall quiet. I decide to ignore it, but I can't, so I look up, and they're looking past me, in shock. One of them points. Another takes a picture. Another says, "Is that ...?' I look around, and Jim Carrey is looking at me from out of his SUV's window. "And remember, Danny!" he shouts, a little too loudly. "ANYTHING YOU NEED! YOU JUST CALL ME!" He makes a little phone sign with his fingers, his window shoots up, and he's gone. I laugh, but when I turn around, the group of tourists is looking at me, mouths agape. I smile, and begin to move off, and I realise Jim has done that just to embarrass me, and I smile again, but bright red and a little sweaty. "Who is that guy?" says one of the tourists, and I break into a small jog. Yes Man is released on 26 December. This is an edited extract from the new edition of Yes Man by Danny Wallace, published by Ebury, £7.99 Jim Carrey Drama Comedy Film adaptations (read more)
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