A few years back, Cameron Crowe had an idea. It’d be a movie. Something funny and romantic. There’d be some music. He told his son William about it, presenting to him his latest big love story. Crowe, damp and with freshly showered hair over video from his home in Los Angeles, takes a pause, as if gearing me up for a punchline. “Eventually [my son] says, ‘Hmm… I don’t know… it’s very Cameron Crowe, isn’t it?’”
William, a screenwriting major in university, volunteered some suggestions. “Why don’t you set it in futuristic Japan? And no one can walk on the ground anymore, and there are spaceships flying around, but everyone’s listening to Eighties music. The whole story would work in that context, too.”
