I expect the misconception seeps in through second order effects of French revolution-era naive notions of "reason" and "man as arbiter of all things", whereby if the mouthbreathing extra's "in charge" of expending his stick of gum worth of cvasi-money to acquire the equivalent, indisolubly equivalent stick of gum, then therefore depicting said mouthbreathing extra on the stick of gum might get some more, or at any rate faster movement of gum tokens exchanged into gum objects.

Naively extending this proposition (whose truth is never nor was ever actually evaluated, to any standard, let alone such an exacting standard as'd permit the sort of demanding extension contemplated here) they then forcibly write mediocre nobodies into great stories, such that Bob the nobody gets some screen time, which he absolutely should not, ever ever get, while the dominating male must be a store manager. He can't be, say, a contract killer, though think of how much better this story'd have played if indeed the case was that just as R heard on the phone that the impossible had indeed occured and now his life's forfeit he looks up, and there's J. So now he confronts a question that's for once fucking interesting, a question the viewer-me -- the only viewer that in any conceivable retelling could ever possibly matter -- actually doesn't mind considering. Would you take a virgin seventeen year old female with you on the lam ? If you were me, I mean, of course. If it was her. Well... would you ?

And then, later, when she awakens, and she confronts, it's not "you don't talk to people, real people, you talk to magazines", what the fuck "magazines". It is instead, overpoweringly, most strongly self-evidently "you talk to phones". To phones, contrasting her carnal presence right there, soft and round and yielding and feminine. Magnetic.

All in all, wouldn't this apocatastaticaly inverted retelling of Harold&Maude work a lot better were it played closer to what Leon aimed (and failed) to be instead of the very Juno-esque lesbian-marxist fanfic, still tryna jack it to the same trite, deplorably trite, utterly expired nonsense ? I think it would've ; and you don't get a voice.