Wild Pitches

Executives at Kingman Films like to tell the story of the disheveled man who came to their offices one afternoon and barked: “OK, listen to this: There’s an island. And Elvis is alive! Jim Morrison’s there! Janis Joplin! Jimi Hendrix!” He added: “Don’t. Be. An. A - - - - - -. Buy this!” Then he commenced staring rigidly into space. Kingman Films politely passed.

The man got to make his pitch because Arthur Chang, the 32-year-old Taiwanese multimillionaire who founded Kingman in July, wants to provide a platform for Hollywood aspirants who lack experience or connections, or have unconventional ideas. Each Thursday afternoon, in a scene lifted from Frank Capra’s “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,” the Kingman office in Glendale is open by appointment to anyone who wants to come and propose a film, which Chang will seriously consider producing. In a similar Cinderella scheme, Chang has already given away $1.5 million to the winners of a screenwriting competition that he sponsors.

On a recent Thursday, eight hopefuls went to Glendale and were each given a half-hour to make their cases before Peter Rosten, a former independent producer who is Kingman’s vice president of production. (Like Mr. Deeds, Chang’s idealism far outweighs his practical experience, and he relies on Rosten, whose credits include 1989’s “True Believer,” to conduct much of the company’s day-to-day business.)

First up was LeMar Fooks, a former aerospace engineer who has written episodes of “The Untouchables.” Rosten smiled at him. “What’ve you got?” “Well,” Fooks hedged, “what’re you looking for?” Rosten paused meaningfully. “Quality.” Fooks burst into guffaws. “I’m sorry--it’s just that in all the pitch meetings at all the studios, I’ve never heard anyone say they were looking for quality.”

Later, Rosten would see Vincent Pun, a 27-year-old Chinese Canadian who hoped to make a movie consisting largely of abstract philosophical dialogue. “Let me tell you what we’re not looking for,” Rosten explained. “We’re not looking for horror, porno, or ‘My Dinner With Andre.’ ”

Pun’s face fell. “You’re not?” he asked plaintively.

“Buckethead,” a script about a small-town bass-fishing contest, was pitched by Jane Cassell, a British producer who gesticulated dramatically while recounting a plot in which 51 of the town’s 800 residents have speaking roles. “By the time the movie’s finished,” Cassell promised 20 minutes later, “you really care about these people.”

“All 51 of them,” Rosten answered dryly.

The day’s end brought Jeno Hodi, a burly writer-director whose thick black hair cascaded over his shoulders. Explaining in a thick Hungarian accent that he came to the United States to study filmmaking with his hero, Milos Forman, Hodi declared that he, too, was “an actor’s director,” a distinction evident to anybody familiar with even one of the seven feature films he’s directed, such as “American Kickboxer 2.” Asked by Rosten to name his choice of leading man for the “wall-to-wall” action thriller he was pitching, Hodi answered without hesitation: “Jean-Claude Van Damme.”

As with each of the Thursdays, nothing was bought.

Though it would be easy to dismiss Arthur Chang and his Kingman Films as a wealthy dreamer’s foolishness, the dreamer himself is sanguine. “You are sophisticated,” Chang said in deliberate, halting English, conjuring the stylish taste of his imaginary audience. “You want everything as your expectation. I hope the film I produce is the same as my lifestyle, my attitude, my character.”