A limousine rolls up to the corner of Avenue B and Seventh Street, and in it sit two honey-blond, fresh-faced, suede-booted young men who look exactly the same. In fact, when they emerge, Josh and Jonas Pate -- whose limo trip from their shared studio apartment was all of three blocks -- seem as though theyre ready to shoot a Doublemint ad. Yo, wassup! Josh calls as he slams the door. Theyre here for their first photo shoot.
Magazine-feature protocol says this is where we say something like The Pate twins are more accustomed to being behind the camera, but in fact theyre only slightly more accustomed. Without film school, PA work, or any other form of industry dues-paying, Josh and Jonas Pate have, at 28, become Hollywoods latest nominees for Hot Young Auteur(s). Their new film, Deceiver (to be released by MGM at the end of the month), stars Tim Roth, Chris Penn, and Renee Zellweger, Joshs current girlfriend.
But judging from the Pates ease at the photo shoot, the limelight seems to suit them fine. Do you guys like Supergrass? their publicist asks brightly, poised at an East Village bar jukebox. Put on the third song, Josh calls out, setting down his Anchor Steam. He turns to his twin. People say really cool bands always put the best song third. Jonas nods thoughtfully.
The brothers pose, trade anecdotes, clown around obligingly, and keep up a steady round of the name game with the photo staff -- Hey, man, do you know Becca? Shes from Trenton, too. Two hours later, theyve traded phone numbers with the stylist, the photographer, and even the profusely tattooed bartender, with whom they plan to go surfing sometime soon.
Its hard not to see the artists at work here. While it was ostensibly their writing that landed the Pates director chairs, writing isnt everything these days. With cover-boy looks, gregarious personalities, and supreme packageability -- identical Coen brothers! White Hughes twins! -- the Pates are ready-made for this particular moment in Hollywood star-making.
Their first couple of years after college were spent bouncing between typical artsy postgraduate gigs. After finishing Princeton in 1993, Jonas moved into a one-bedroom over Lucky Strike with Josh and two roommates. He spent three months working for Miramax -- I was Harveys postproduction whipping boy, he half boasts -- while Josh did stints as a Café Tabac barback, an entertainment lawyers boy Friday, and an assistant at Sterling Lord. During those lean times, Josh wrote a novel, which his brother describes as this East Village existential tortured-soul thing.
Interning at the Angelika during the Independent Feature Project, Josh met Peter Glatzer, then a 28-year-old fund-raiser for the IFP. Josh was smart, nice, cool, personable, good-looking, says Glatzer. Hed never written anything for film, but I took a look at his short stories and they were pretty good. I said, Hey, you should write screenplays. And I introduced him to the masters -- Eisenstein, Kubrick, Scorsese. Glatzer chuckles at the memory of the serendipity. And me, Id always wanted to produce.
Inspired by their new mentor, Josh and Jonas spent a year writing a dark comedy about rascally ex-con graverobbers. While Glatzer talked to his contacts, the twins revealed a less conventional fund-raising style. They hung a huge spray-painted banner on a building owned by Dennis Hopper in their home state of North Carolina: DENNIS! WERE 24. WE HAVE A KILLER SCRIPT. WERE BROKE. HELP US!