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Looking for Steinway

I can’t remember whether I’ve seen Looking for Richard or not. I know what it’s about, I’ve seen posters, life-size cardboard cutouts, had conversations about it, but I don’t know whether I’ve seen it or not. It’s quite possible that over time I have constructed a plausible memory of the movie from the snippets of information I’ve collected. In my head it’s quite a good film. It’s also somewhat confused with The Fisher King, which I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen, but have an even clearer memory of, based on a few very vivid descriptions.

Nor is this syndrome limited to films. I have countless childhood and more recent memories which may or may not be based on real life, dreams, or fantasies. All of which points loosely to the possibility that what we tend to think are solid events are in fact our own interpretations of experiences, filtered through myriad layers of history, genetic programming and emotional baggage.

In which case, it could be argued that my forthcoming film, a much-anticipated sequel to Looking for Richard, entitled Looking for Steinway, is destined to be a huge hit.

In this witty and unexpected follow-up, young singer songwriter Annalie Wilson (played by herself) is desperately searching for a grand piano to record the finishing touches to her second album, when whom should she meet but Al Pacino (played by himself.) Pacino, who is getting a bit bored with Richard, having found him ages ago, takes a shine to the young musician, and agrees to help her in her quest.

Meanwhile Kevin Spacey (played by himself) is starring in his own spin-off series, Looking for Annalie, a hilarious comedy drama in which Spacey is desperately searching for the young pianist who used to play in the Pit Bar at the Old Vic Theatre, to star in his new film, Pianowoman, a bittersweet romcom about a superhero who uses music to matchmake shy couples but is hopeless when it comes to her own lovelife.

When Spacey and Wilson are finally reunited it transpires that he had Steinway in his totally sound-proof London apartment with excellent acoustics all along, and is happy to let Wilson tinker away indefinitely. A tearful finale is then in order as Pacino and Wilson perform a touching duet of You can call me Al, with Spacey accompanying on tea-chest bass.

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