Americans are oversold on pharmaceuticals.

Just read the headlines: Overprescribed antibiotics spawn new strains of drug-resistant bacteria. Certain anti-depressants lead to teenage suicides. Some cholesterol drugs result in liver damage. Some arthritis drugs cause strokes and heart attacks. In fact, Pfizer Inc. pulled its arthritis drug, Bextra, on Thursday.

It's not a pretty picture. But it does involve pretty faces.

Such as Kathleen Slattery-Moschkau, 36, of Madison, Wis., who worked as a pharmaceutical saleswoman for nearly 10 years, including stints at Johnson & Johnson and Bristol-Meyers Squibb.

"The philosophy of the industry is that it's nice to hire good-looking people," said Slattery-Moschkau, a striking sandy blond who had long dreamed of writing movie scripts. "It's a nice break in the doctors' day. All day long, they are seeing very sick people."

Her experience was so comic and so tragic that she decided to make an independent feature film about it.

"Side Effects" recently premiered at the Cinequest Film Festival in San Jose, Calif., and Slattery-Moschkau is working on distribution deals.

The film is a fictional account based on notes Slattery-Moschkau kept during her stint in pharmaceutical sales. It's low-budget - shot in 18 days for $190,000 - but stars Katherine Heigl, who is in the new ABC series "Grey's Anatomy."

In the film - which is largely satirical - Heigl's character explains that she has no background in medicine. She asks an executive why he wants to hire her. "We just want someone with ample sales experience," the executive responds as the camera zooms in on her cleavage.

In real life, Slattery-Moschkau was selling cellular phones in 1993 when she got a call from a drug company recruiter.

"I found it odd," said Slattery-Moschkau, who has a degree in political science from the University of Wisconsin. "I wasn't a pharmacy major. I wasn't a nursing major. I didn't have a lot of science. I think the only class I took was in meteorology."

But why slam the door of opportunity? "I was 23 years old, and it was a very nice compensation package with a free car."

She also got a company credit card. Soon she was taking doctors to dinner, golf courses, fishing holes and spas.

She flew all over the country for sales training meetings where she honed her pitches with other reps. "It was a sea of very beautiful people," she said.

At these meetings, Slattery-Moschkau said she met athletes, drama majors, artists and musicians, but rarely someone with a nursing or pharmacy background.

They would run through role-playing exercises together to learn their sales scripts, playing doctors and sales people, Slattery-Moschkau said.

"People on one side of the room would point to a face on a brochure and say, 'Hi, Dr. Jones. Today I'd like to introduce you to Betty. Betty was voted most likely to succeed. Unfortunately, depression has interfered in her life. Do you have any patients like Betty?'

"And then the people playing doctors on the other side of the room would say, 'Oh, yes, quite a few.' And then the reps would start the rest of their pitch."

A response to every question a doctor might raise was carefully scripted and practiced - out loud and in unison.

"At one point, I was looking around and saying, 'Is this really happening?' We're talking about drugs that make the difference between life and death."

Jeff Trewhitt, a spokesman for the Pharmaceutical Research and Manufacturers of America, says pharmaceutical salespeople may come from a variety of backgrounds, but they are heavily trained professionals by the time they make their first sales call. They also have access to doctors and researchers to help them with technical questions.

"Many doctors are skeptical," Trewhitt said. "They may let you in the door, but you better be able to answer them, or they'll never let you back in."

Slattery-Moschkau says she got paid to sell, not to provide doctors with objective facts about drugs and side effects.

"It was more about spinning the information in a way that would drive more prescriptions," she said.

Al Lewis' column appears Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays. Reach him at 303-820-1967 or alewis@denverpost.com .