Whatever lucky screenwriter ends up with the plum Shia LaBeouf Story assignment—likely Shia LaBeouf himself, writing under an alias—will have plenty of exciting legal run-ins to choose from, including last night’s arrest for criminal trespass, disorderly conduct, and harassment. LaBeouf was reportedly enjoying a performance of Cabaret a little too much and decided he needed to both disrupt the performance verbally and smoke in the theater. Another patron told WABC that LaBeouf was “was quite a mess. He had a torn shirt, he had a cigarette, he was blending into the crowd, trying to and chasing bums and craziness.” Chasing bums and craziness? One or the other might just be another night on the town for a young actor who’s either angry about not being in the new Transformers movie, or working on some kind of Joaquin Phoenix-like art project (or both). In any case, it led to an arrest and eventual release from custody on his own recognizance, because the judge is all just part of this crazy play anyway, man. With apologies to Sean O’Neal, who’s out today, here’s the part of the screenplay dealing with last night’s shenanigans.
Excerpt from Mr. Misunderstood (So Don’t Even Try): My Story, My Life, I Did It My Way©: The Shia LaBeouf Saga, written by Shane LaBouvier
INT: Studio 54 Theater. Our hero, handsomely bedraggled, is charming a young lady by unexpectedly feeding her a strawberry. She is petrified, but then realizes whose hand is clutching the luscious fruit. It is well-known art-world disruptor and handsome Hollywood actor Shia LaBeouf.
Shia LaBeouf: How do you like that strawberry? You know what 20th-century Italian artist Giorgio de Chirico said about strawberries, don’t you?
Before she can answer, LaBeouf quickly leans over, vomits elegantly, then returns to his seat in the theater. The play, Cabaret, is in progress.
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Shia LaBeouf: Where’s Optimus Prime? (then much louder) Where the fuck is Optimus Prime? I thought so!
He lights a cigarette, though clearly aware that this is illegal and could result in his arrest and eventual publicity-stunt apology. The police, dressed in Gestapo uniforms, quickly enter the theater.
Gestapo agent: Got you, LaBeouf! Put him in shackles, men!
Shia LaBeouf: Attica! Attica! They may take my life, but they’ll never take my FREEDOM! There is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind. I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will. Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes. The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. There can’t be any large-scale revolution until there’s a personal revolution, on an individual level. It’s got to happen inside first. I wrote all of that myself!