Browsing through my notebooks, I see that 2007 was a pretty prolific year (maybe being single all 365 days had something to do with it). I remember sitting down and writing almost every night, usually right after a late-night shredded beef burrito from Del Taco, consumed with a hedonist's deliberate & tarrying delight while watching some shlocktronic favorite like The Creature Walks Among Us or The Reincarnation of Isabel, which is probably why I came up with a lot of titles like Brain Without a Head and Arousal of the Damned - this is what we call "obvious influence," 'though the less charitable (and probably more accurate) view would deem it "derivative crap." Either way, it has to be admitted that this sort of easy transubstantiation can yield some worthy results.
For example:
King Kong → A*P*E
Star Wars → Starcrash
Flashdance → Breakin'
The Terminator* → Lady Terminator
And as everyone knows by now: FernGully: The Last Rainforest → Avatar
See what I mean?
What a lesser world this would be, in my highly prejudiced opinion, were the bastard children of Mainstream Cinema denied their public life, their happy public flickering before the hungry eyes of millions. Derive away, I say, and keep them babies coming (except for The Island, which it's claimed was neither derived from nor influenced by Parts: The Clonus Horror but was in fact a straight rip-off thereof [read about it here]).
Case in Point
No doubt influenced by Stephen King's Cell and the movie The Signal, I came up with the following idea on May 21, 2007:
"a story about a mysterious pulse that blasts out of the TV while everyone's watching Fame Whores, an American Idol-type show; the pulse turns everybody into zombies except people who like Shakespeare; survivors hole up in a cabin in the woods where they're terrorized by a biker gang that's mysteriously escaped zombification"
Of course, I'm nothing if not eclectic in my alchemical approach to storytelling - sorry, kids, it's in my DNA. Which is why I'd have to say that the second part of the story would no doubt be highly influenced by (or flatteringly derivative of) such eerily appropriate source material as These Are the Damned, Mad Max and Straw Dogs, as well as The Day the World Ended, Panic in the Year Zero and Night of the Living Dead (not to mention Last Year at Marienbad and The Madness of King George - whew!).
"But, Diego," you say, "that's more than just an obvious influence or whatever - you're mashing shit up again!" Well, yes, I guess I am. (Didn't I just fucking say my approach to storytelling is alchemically eclectic, etc.? It's like I told the frog when I stinged him: "Sorry, dude, it's my nature." If you don't like it, stop reading this blog and go watch I Am Sam. Again.)
Hey man, I do get the difference - "obvious influence"/"derivative crap" (OIDC) is when you borrow various elements (including the storyline) from a single source and incorporate them at the genetic level in a fresh iteration, as in Play Misty for Me → Fatal Attraction, whereas a mashup is the conscious synthesis of two or more sources into a single entity but for which elements of said sources are directly & grossly constituent, like the Frankenstein Monster, or as illustrated by the following equation:
28 Days Later... + Escape From New York + The Road Warrior = Doomsday
There. Are you happy now?
Anyhoo, I think this "TV pulse" story idea could actually work - or could have, were it not for a) its two main sources of inspiration, Cell and The Signal, (hey, there's a title for you: The Cell & the Signal, kinda like The Agony & the Ecstasy [not really]) and b) the predictably prompt threat of a lawsuit for copyright infringement from one or both authors of those works. Best let this one lie low for a while, maybe deploy it a few years from now when everyone's distracted by the media orgy over Justin Bieber's divorce from Dakota Fanning.
In the meantime, I've got lots more material to develop.
Till next time...
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
* The Terminator itself is the product of this sort of transubstantiation, too - specifically 2 episodes of The Outer Limits: "Soldier" and "Demon with a Glass Hand." More info here.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
What child is THIS?
It's now officially the most wonderful time of the year, my lovelies. Some of you are giddy, some of you are anxious, and some of you could give a rat's ass (bah, humfuck). Some of you are hoping Santa Claus'll finally bring you that divorce you've been restlessly waiting for, while others just wanna get laid this holiday season 'cause it's been like 6 months or so since your last encounter of the carnal kind and you've been having trouble concentrating on other things as a result. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows? What am I, a mind-reader over here?
Whatever your holiday state of mind, though, remember: the Christmas season is here, so put away your guns & knives & weedwhackers, and stop trying to poison your neighbor's pets - and for Christ's sake, don't drink & drive between now & January 2nd; the last thing you want to do is plow into an oncoming car & grease a whole family at Christmas (whatever your faults & shortcomings may be [e.g. you actually paid to see Step Up 3D at the theater], you're not a homicidal maniac, are you?). Just drink your eggnog and leave the plutonian business of murder & mayhem toour government trained professionals.
Onward to this entry's offerings...
Dead Alone
All this'd be is Home Alone + Night of the Living Dead, thus:
Mischievous 8 yr. old Wally Brambles gets left behind by his family during Christmas. A pair of bumbling burglars breaks into the anthropologist's house next door to steal a copy of the Necronomicon and inadvertently wake the dead largely ignored by his family. Soon enough, Wally finds himself besieged by the living dead, and he's alone...dead alone...
Much Ado About Dracula
I came up with this one on April 18, 2006. The mashup is my natural state of mind, it seems.
Take Much Ado About Nothing + Dracula, then blend: Don Pedro & his companions Benedick & Claudio pay a visit to Leonato, governor of Messina. While there, Claudio gets a boner for Leonato's daughter, Hero, but is constantly cock-blocked by Leonato's mysterious & annoying house guest, Count Dracula, who wants Hero for his own. Things get messy when Van Helsing & Jonathan Harker arrive (disguised as interior decorators) to dispatch the Count.
A Nightmare of Their Own
On May 28, 2006, I thought it'd be a good idea to mashup A Nightmare on Elm Street and A League of Their Own. Simple. Freddy Krueger stalks an all-girl baseball team in the 1940s.
Unpleasantville
Two teen couch potatoes get sucked into a combo David Lynch / Lucio Fulci version of their favorite TV show. Pleasantville + Blue Velvet + The Beyond. You're welcome.
The Hills Have Elves
Jotted this one down on December 19, 2006. Now here's a Yuletide flick I'd like to see. The Hills Have Eyes + Elves = the dysfunctional Hurwood family's RV breaks down on the way to grandma's house for Christmas, while at a secret army base nearby, a government experiment to turn Santa's elves into deadly bioweapons has gone awry. I'm sure you can figure out what happens next (except for the movie ending with a wedding - didn't see that one coming, did you?). Ho, ho, ho!
Please Don't Eat My Time Machine
This one's from May 21, 2007. Had no story for it at the time, but thinking about it now I'd have to say the story for a title like this'd have to be about a kooky Doc Brown-type scientist who invents a dime-sized time machine. He's forced to hide the time machine in a birthday cake for some reason, and then the cake's delivered to some kid's birthday party, and the kooky scientist'd arrive just in time to watch the birthday boy or girl eat the slice with the time machine in it - this'd be the title scene, of course; in slow motion, the kid puts the cake in his/her mouth as the kooky scientist leaps across the backyard & cries out, "Please don't eat my t i m e m a c h i n e !"
Too late, of course - the kid eats the time machine and now every time he/she burps or farts, he/she jumps in time; the scientist'd follow him/her back & forth across the timeline and then, once the kid's been apprehended, it'd be a simple matter of waiting for him/her to shit out the time machine so everyone can go home. If it helps, the scientist & the kid are surrounded by zombies.
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
Whatever your holiday state of mind, though, remember: the Christmas season is here, so put away your guns & knives & weedwhackers, and stop trying to poison your neighbor's pets - and for Christ's sake, don't drink & drive between now & January 2nd; the last thing you want to do is plow into an oncoming car & grease a whole family at Christmas (whatever your faults & shortcomings may be [e.g. you actually paid to see Step Up 3D at the theater], you're not a homicidal maniac, are you?). Just drink your eggnog and leave the plutonian business of murder & mayhem to
Onward to this entry's offerings...
Dead Alone
All this'd be is Home Alone + Night of the Living Dead, thus:
Mischievous 8 yr. old Wally Brambles gets left behind by his family during Christmas. A pair of bumbling burglars breaks into the anthropologist's house next door to steal a copy of the Necronomicon and inadvertently wake the dead largely ignored by his family. Soon enough, Wally finds himself besieged by the living dead, and he's alone...dead alone...
Much Ado About Dracula
I came up with this one on April 18, 2006. The mashup is my natural state of mind, it seems.
Take Much Ado About Nothing + Dracula, then blend: Don Pedro & his companions Benedick & Claudio pay a visit to Leonato, governor of Messina. While there, Claudio gets a boner for Leonato's daughter, Hero, but is constantly cock-blocked by Leonato's mysterious & annoying house guest, Count Dracula, who wants Hero for his own. Things get messy when Van Helsing & Jonathan Harker arrive (disguised as interior decorators) to dispatch the Count.
A Nightmare of Their Own
On May 28, 2006, I thought it'd be a good idea to mashup A Nightmare on Elm Street and A League of Their Own. Simple. Freddy Krueger stalks an all-girl baseball team in the 1940s.
Unpleasantville
Two teen couch potatoes get sucked into a combo David Lynch / Lucio Fulci version of their favorite TV show. Pleasantville + Blue Velvet + The Beyond. You're welcome.
The Hills Have Elves
Jotted this one down on December 19, 2006. Now here's a Yuletide flick I'd like to see. The Hills Have Eyes + Elves = the dysfunctional Hurwood family's RV breaks down on the way to grandma's house for Christmas, while at a secret army base nearby, a government experiment to turn Santa's elves into deadly bioweapons has gone awry. I'm sure you can figure out what happens next (except for the movie ending with a wedding - didn't see that one coming, did you?). Ho, ho, ho!
Please Don't Eat My Time Machine
This one's from May 21, 2007. Had no story for it at the time, but thinking about it now I'd have to say the story for a title like this'd have to be about a kooky Doc Brown-type scientist who invents a dime-sized time machine. He's forced to hide the time machine in a birthday cake for some reason, and then the cake's delivered to some kid's birthday party, and the kooky scientist'd arrive just in time to watch the birthday boy or girl eat the slice with the time machine in it - this'd be the title scene, of course; in slow motion, the kid puts the cake in his/her mouth as the kooky scientist leaps across the backyard & cries out, "Please don't eat my t i m e m a c h i n e !"
Too late, of course - the kid eats the time machine and now every time he/she burps or farts, he/she jumps in time; the scientist'd follow him/her back & forth across the timeline and then, once the kid's been apprehended, it'd be a simple matter of waiting for him/her to shit out the time machine so everyone can go home. If it helps, the scientist & the kid are surrounded by zombies.
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
It's time to give fangs...
The Man in the Street
People sometimes stop me in the street and ask me, "Hey, Diego, do you ever run out of ideas?" or "Hey, Diego, do you ever get writer's block?" or "Hey, Diego, do you always wear those stupid sunglasses? 'Cause they make you seem like you're really full of yourself."
To which I'll usually reply, "Um, excuse me - do I know you?" or "I'm sorry, sir/madam, but you have me at a disadvantage: I don't know who the fuck you are..." or "Mom, do you have to embarrass me in public all the time? How'm I supposed to get laid with you embarrassing me like that all the time?"
Actually, that never happens. The only people who stop me in the street are homeless guys; I usually give 'em whatever money I have in my wallet and/or the rest of my cigarettes if I have a pack on me. I appreciate it when the process takes no longer than 60 seconds, however: not 'cause I'm skeeved or grossed out or anything; more 'cause I usually have shit to do (like pick up my son from school or do laundry or write this blog).
It occurs to me, though, that maybe these homeless dudes'd be a great source of feedback & commentary on some of my movie ideas. Why not? I always listen to their life stories or their observations on contemporary society or their explanations of why they're for or against the death penalty; I'm buying the fucking coffee & providing the smokes, though, so shouldn't I get to say something, too?
Now, is it vile & inconsiderate of me to propose using the homeless as sounding boards for my cinematically-oriented narrative proposals? Would I be in violation of the Second Maxim of Kant's Categorical Imperative if I did so? And, more importantly, does anyone really give a shit?
Such considerations are both beyond the scope & outside the purpose of this blog. You don't come here for intellectually masturbatory philosophical analysis; you come here to read about (and, hopefully, someday buy) my ideas for movies & maybe a novel or short story or farm equipment catalog. So let's get to it, shall we?
Vampire Santa Redux
I know what you're going to say: "Diego, didn't we just cover the whole Santa/Dracula thing a few days ago?" Yes, children - on November 20, to be exact. But I was watching Taste the Blood of Dracula last night and was reminded of a couple of titles I came up with a few years ago...
Back in the spring of 2004, WB Home Video released Dracula Has Risen from the Grave and Taste the Blood of Dracula. Manna fromHeaven Transylvania! At the time, it occurred to me that you could switch "Santa Claus" for "Dracula" and you'd have two awesome titles:
Admit it: you totally want to see these movies now...
Stay tuned: I'll pull a storyline out of my ass for these two soon enough.
Random Bits
I haven't worked out a plot or story or characters for any of these titles yet, either, but they strike me as worthy of the effort. And because I know you'll be eagerly waiting for me to whip up something worthy of your attention, I promise to put my best men on this ASAP (i.e. as soon as I drive down to Home Depot and hire them).
Revenge of the Manitou (proposed sequel to William Girdler's masterful The Manitou)
Body of a She-Male (from the Amero/Findlay sexploitation classic Body of a Female)
and
Any of these you want me to work on first? Let me know...
Happy Thanksgiving!
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
People sometimes stop me in the street and ask me, "Hey, Diego, do you ever run out of ideas?" or "Hey, Diego, do you ever get writer's block?" or "Hey, Diego, do you always wear those stupid sunglasses? 'Cause they make you seem like you're really full of yourself."
To which I'll usually reply, "Um, excuse me - do I know you?" or "I'm sorry, sir/madam, but you have me at a disadvantage: I don't know who the fuck you are..." or "Mom, do you have to embarrass me in public all the time? How'm I supposed to get laid with you embarrassing me like that all the time?"
Actually, that never happens. The only people who stop me in the street are homeless guys; I usually give 'em whatever money I have in my wallet and/or the rest of my cigarettes if I have a pack on me. I appreciate it when the process takes no longer than 60 seconds, however: not 'cause I'm skeeved or grossed out or anything; more 'cause I usually have shit to do (like pick up my son from school or do laundry or write this blog).
It occurs to me, though, that maybe these homeless dudes'd be a great source of feedback & commentary on some of my movie ideas. Why not? I always listen to their life stories or their observations on contemporary society or their explanations of why they're for or against the death penalty; I'm buying the fucking coffee & providing the smokes, though, so shouldn't I get to say something, too?
Now, is it vile & inconsiderate of me to propose using the homeless as sounding boards for my cinematically-oriented narrative proposals? Would I be in violation of the Second Maxim of Kant's Categorical Imperative if I did so? And, more importantly, does anyone really give a shit?
Such considerations are both beyond the scope & outside the purpose of this blog. You don't come here for intellectually masturbatory philosophical analysis; you come here to read about (and, hopefully, someday buy) my ideas for movies & maybe a novel or short story or farm equipment catalog. So let's get to it, shall we?
Vampire Santa Redux
I know what you're going to say: "Diego, didn't we just cover the whole Santa/Dracula thing a few days ago?" Yes, children - on November 20, to be exact. But I was watching Taste the Blood of Dracula last night and was reminded of a couple of titles I came up with a few years ago...
Back in the spring of 2004, WB Home Video released Dracula Has Risen from the Grave and Taste the Blood of Dracula. Manna from
Admit it: you totally want to see these movies now...
Stay tuned: I'll pull a storyline out of my ass for these two soon enough.
Random Bits
I haven't worked out a plot or story or characters for any of these titles yet, either, but they strike me as worthy of the effort. And because I know you'll be eagerly waiting for me to whip up something worthy of your attention, I promise to put my best men on this ASAP (i.e. as soon as I drive down to Home Depot and hire them).
Revenge of the Manitou (proposed sequel to William Girdler's masterful The Manitou)
Body of a She-Male (from the Amero/Findlay sexploitation classic Body of a Female)
and
Diary of a Shotgun
The Robot Who Broke My Heart
Chainsaw Hitman
Leave Her to Satan
Story of a One-Night Stand
Curse of the Starry Night
Death Train to Phoenix
The Devil's Stepmom
Grand Theft Evil
Prognosis: Gay
Sword of the Cheerleader
Foot Meets Ass
Gestapo Starbeast
The Eternal Damnation of a Monkey's Uncle
Dr. Racist
Vault of Cataclysm
Any of these you want me to work on first? Let me know...
Happy Thanksgiving!
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
All I Want for Christmas...IS YOUR BLOOD!
You know that movie, The Blood on Satan's Claw, Piers Haggard's cute little masterpiece from 1970 about witchcraft and/or Devil-worship in a 17th-century English village?
Wouldn't it be awesome if they made a movie called The Blood on Santa's Claw?
Now here's the part where you, as usual, jump in and go, "Yeah, Diego, but what would it be about?" Which some people may ascribe to impatience on your part, but I prefer to think of as a refreshing enthusiasm (and if it was impatience, I'd still give you a pass, 'cause I'd assume you have to go to the bathroom or something, 'cause maybe you're 68 years old and had a McRib meal for lunch).
In answer to your query, though, I'd say The Blood on Santa's Claw is about Santa getting bit by a vampire while delivering toys to a house in Eastern Europe one foggy Christmas Eve...and then becoming a vampire himself! Holy fucking shit! Ooo, maybe the vampire who turns Santa is Dracula, the Dracula, the Prince of Darkness himself, who's risen from the grave and whose blood we must taste (hmm...why's that sound so familiar? Oh, that's right...).
For reasons best worked out during that phase of Hollywood studio moviemaking known as "in development," the story's climax would take place at the North Pole, at Santa's village or castle or Fortress of Solitude or whatever, where Santa & his elves would stand off against Dracula & his vampire lackeys (vackeys?).
"But, Diego," you say as you lean back in your Garden Treasures aluminum-strap chaise lounge patio chair from Lowe's and take a sip of that boxed wine you like so much, "what about The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy, specifically the 1-hour Christmas special, 'Billy & Mandy Save Christmas,' in which Santa Claus gets bitten by & becomes a vampire?"
To which I'd reply, "Fuck you! I had that same exact idea like a year before 'Billy & Mandy Save Christmas' was broadcast!" (Which is true, I really did.) And then I'd quote David Trottier: "Creativity is not creating something out of nothing; it's a new twist on an old idea. It's making new combinations out of old patterns. It's converting the Big Dipper into the Little Ladle." (The Screenwriter's Bible, 4th Edition, p. 89.)
If, at this point, you kept giving me shit, then I'd point out that Shakespeare "borrowed" the plot of Hamlet from the Ur-Hamlet & other sources (oh, you gonna get all up in Shakespeare's Kool-Aid now?), that Holly Lisle'd back me up on the notion of "borrowing" ideas and/or points of inspiration from other works, and that subsequently in history, "borrowing," "reworking" & "reimagining" are both widespread in practice and have yielded some worthy results (e.g. Romeo & Juliet → West Side Story; Parts: The Clonus Horror → The Island; Garfield → Garfield the Movie - you see? YOU SEE?).
And/or you might say (in an excessively whiny voice, for some reason): "But, Diego, isn't there already a movie called Satan Claws?"
"Good point," I'd say, and then refer to the contemporary phenomenon of dueling movie releases as an example of (to paraphrase David Trottier) a new twist on the same ideas (well, a hoped-for new twist, or at least the semblance thereof, for the sake of the box office; I mean, you don't have to work that hard these days to fool an audience into watching the same movie over & over, but it still involves some effort [like changing the title & all the characters' names {e.g. War of the Worlds → Earth vs. the Flying Saucers → Independence Day → War of the Worlds → Skyline → Battle: Los Angeles → ?}]).
So, yes, there is a movie called Satan Claws. So what? Let's face it, kids: "evil Santa" stories are by now almost on the verge of perhaps possibly becoming (maybe) a fringe tradition of the Christmas experience in America. To wit: Christmas Evil, Don't Open Till Christmas, Silent Night Deadly Night, the aforementioned Satan Claws, Bad Santa, Santa's Slay, etc. To me, the burgeoning nature of this sub-sub-genre signals a welcome to new expressions of its core values & tenets, a call to storytellers everywhere to bring their voices to the Evil Santa Party, and all I'm doing is RSVPing that my ass be attending. Me + 1 guest...will it be you?
And then you'd say, "Yes, Diego, I see your point. I'm really looking forward to The Blood on Santa's Claw now." To which I'd reply, "Well, this ought to tide you over till then, or this..."
¡Feliz Navidad!
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
Wouldn't it be awesome if they made a movie called The Blood on Santa's Claw?
Now here's the part where you, as usual, jump in and go, "Yeah, Diego, but what would it be about?" Which some people may ascribe to impatience on your part, but I prefer to think of as a refreshing enthusiasm (and if it was impatience, I'd still give you a pass, 'cause I'd assume you have to go to the bathroom or something, 'cause maybe you're 68 years old and had a McRib meal for lunch).
In answer to your query, though, I'd say The Blood on Santa's Claw is about Santa getting bit by a vampire while delivering toys to a house in Eastern Europe one foggy Christmas Eve...and then becoming a vampire himself! Holy fucking shit! Ooo, maybe the vampire who turns Santa is Dracula, the Dracula, the Prince of Darkness himself, who's risen from the grave and whose blood we must taste (hmm...why's that sound so familiar? Oh, that's right...).
For reasons best worked out during that phase of Hollywood studio moviemaking known as "in development," the story's climax would take place at the North Pole, at Santa's village or castle or Fortress of Solitude or whatever, where Santa & his elves would stand off against Dracula & his vampire lackeys (vackeys?).
"But, Diego," you say as you lean back in your Garden Treasures aluminum-strap chaise lounge patio chair from Lowe's and take a sip of that boxed wine you like so much, "what about The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy, specifically the 1-hour Christmas special, 'Billy & Mandy Save Christmas,' in which Santa Claus gets bitten by & becomes a vampire?"
To which I'd reply, "Fuck you! I had that same exact idea like a year before 'Billy & Mandy Save Christmas' was broadcast!" (Which is true, I really did.) And then I'd quote David Trottier: "Creativity is not creating something out of nothing; it's a new twist on an old idea. It's making new combinations out of old patterns. It's converting the Big Dipper into the Little Ladle." (The Screenwriter's Bible, 4th Edition, p. 89.)
If, at this point, you kept giving me shit, then I'd point out that Shakespeare "borrowed" the plot of Hamlet from the Ur-Hamlet & other sources (oh, you gonna get all up in Shakespeare's Kool-Aid now?), that Holly Lisle'd back me up on the notion of "borrowing" ideas and/or points of inspiration from other works, and that subsequently in history, "borrowing," "reworking" & "reimagining" are both widespread in practice and have yielded some worthy results (e.g. Romeo & Juliet → West Side Story; Parts: The Clonus Horror → The Island; Garfield → Garfield the Movie - you see? YOU SEE?).
And/or you might say (in an excessively whiny voice, for some reason): "But, Diego, isn't there already a movie called Satan Claws?"
"Good point," I'd say, and then refer to the contemporary phenomenon of dueling movie releases as an example of (to paraphrase David Trottier) a new twist on the same ideas (well, a hoped-for new twist, or at least the semblance thereof, for the sake of the box office; I mean, you don't have to work that hard these days to fool an audience into watching the same movie over & over, but it still involves some effort [like changing the title & all the characters' names {e.g. War of the Worlds → Earth vs. the Flying Saucers → Independence Day → War of the Worlds → Skyline → Battle: Los Angeles → ?}]).
So, yes, there is a movie called Satan Claws. So what? Let's face it, kids: "evil Santa" stories are by now almost on the verge of perhaps possibly becoming (maybe) a fringe tradition of the Christmas experience in America. To wit: Christmas Evil, Don't Open Till Christmas, Silent Night Deadly Night, the aforementioned Satan Claws, Bad Santa, Santa's Slay, etc. To me, the burgeoning nature of this sub-sub-genre signals a welcome to new expressions of its core values & tenets, a call to storytellers everywhere to bring their voices to the Evil Santa Party, and all I'm doing is RSVPing that my ass be attending. Me + 1 guest...will it be you?
And then you'd say, "Yes, Diego, I see your point. I'm really looking forward to The Blood on Santa's Claw now." To which I'd reply, "Well, this ought to tide you over till then, or this..."
¡Feliz Navidad!
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Let's Hear It for the Demons
Back on November 8, 2009, I jotted down the title Evil Death in one of my notebooks (an Office Depot personal size vinyl cover notebook, 'though I've since switched to a Moleskine cahier). Imagine it on a movie poster:
Now there's a title that just screams "I promise you nothing but trash!" Such sweet, sweet assurance...sigh.
"But, Diego," you say, "what'd it be about?"
Good question. Well, let's see...what kind of movie would Evil Death be? I think it'd be a good idea to start by asking: what exactly is an "evil death"? What does it mean if a death is "evil"?
The first thing that comes to mind is "death in an especially evil manner." Like, if a rhino bit your head clean off while you were getting raped by a mandrill, that'd be an especially evil death (you might say it's an especially nasty death, too, but the title's Evil Death, not Nasty Death, so stop interrupting, okay?). Or like when that Diaper Mafia dude gets his head shoved up his own ass in Citizen Toxie: The Toxic Avenger IV. Or like when Elizabeth Taylor's cousin gets eaten by those Spanish kids in Suddenly Last Summer. That's some evil shit!
So, now that we've defined what an "evil death" is (more or less), it occurs to me that the story of Evil Death could be about troubled teen BRAD CORBETT, whose family has just moved from the Big City to some two-bit hick town in the Midwest where dancing's been outlawed, which is a major bummer for Brad 'cause what he likes to do most (after drinking, getting high, having sex, playing videogames, watching porn, and podcasting about how tough it is being a teenager these days) is dance.
With the predictably rebellious spirit of youth driving him on, Brad quickly rallies the local kids to the cause of getting the dread anti-dancing law repealed. The city council, however, is unimpressed with Brad's argument ("Leaping and dancing! Leaping...and dancing!") so Brad organizes an illegal prom across the county line, over at the old Dunwich house, a.k.a. Blood Mansion (which, if you think about it, could be another title for this turkey, i.e. Blood Mansion, but you're ingesting superheated cocaine hydrochloride [i.e. "smoking crack"] if you think I'm gonna whip up another epynomial justification for an alternate title).
It'd be explained at some point that Blood Mansion was the site of several unexplained but intensely gruesome deaths in the past; it'd basically be this story's Hill House but with a more depraved history. Our hero Brad, though, being both a charmingly flippant teen and a dismissive Big City outsider, would convince his dance fever-infected clique of bumpkin peers that Blood Mansion's ideal for their soirée and who cares about the house's reputation, it's all bullshit anyway so c'mon you sheepfuckers: LET'S DANCE!
Bad idea, Brad. Very bad idea.
So now the story'd follow the same narrative arc as Night of the Demons: aroused & awakened by the presence of so much nubile young flesh, the evil spirits of Blood Mansion would trundle up from the nether planes of their demonic slumber and right away start with their mischief, i.e. taking over the kids' bodies and slaughtering them, which'd consist of particularly atrocious modes of demise (e.g. forced inhalation of one's own penis, vaginal impalement on a bazooka, decapitation by rhino bite, etc.).
Meanwhile, you'd have some snappy-ass tunes playing on the soundtrack, like "Rude Boy," "Alejandro," and "Funplex," which wouldn't be considered "lame" or "kitschy" or "embarrassing to listen to" 20 years from now, unlike "Let's Hear It for the Boy," "Dancing in the Sheets," or "Footloose." 'Cause now we know better, right?
Anyhoo, if you've seen Footloose and Night of the Demons, you pretty much know how this whole thing's gonna turn out - except for this twist: you take the ending of Amityville II: The Possession and graft it onto this turkey, for an especially soul-chilling finale: say Brad gets possessed by one of the demons during the prom and starts wasting the farmer's daughters; then a priest shows up and performs an exorcism on Brad but ends up possessed himself; after Brad & the few kids who've survived the demonic attacks vacate the premises, the priest sits huddled in a dark corner of the mansion, waiting for the demon inside him to slowly take over...
Fade out. The end.
"Everybody cut, everybody cut!
Everybody cut, everybody cut!
Everybody cut, everbody cut!
Everybody cut footloose!"
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
EVIL DEATH
Now there's a title that just screams "I promise you nothing but trash!" Such sweet, sweet assurance...sigh.
"But, Diego," you say, "what'd it be about?"
Good question. Well, let's see...what kind of movie would Evil Death be? I think it'd be a good idea to start by asking: what exactly is an "evil death"? What does it mean if a death is "evil"?
The first thing that comes to mind is "death in an especially evil manner." Like, if a rhino bit your head clean off while you were getting raped by a mandrill, that'd be an especially evil death (you might say it's an especially nasty death, too, but the title's Evil Death, not Nasty Death, so stop interrupting, okay?). Or like when that Diaper Mafia dude gets his head shoved up his own ass in Citizen Toxie: The Toxic Avenger IV. Or like when Elizabeth Taylor's cousin gets eaten by those Spanish kids in Suddenly Last Summer. That's some evil shit!
So, now that we've defined what an "evil death" is (more or less), it occurs to me that the story of Evil Death could be about troubled teen BRAD CORBETT, whose family has just moved from the Big City to some two-bit hick town in the Midwest where dancing's been outlawed, which is a major bummer for Brad 'cause what he likes to do most (after drinking, getting high, having sex, playing videogames, watching porn, and podcasting about how tough it is being a teenager these days) is dance.
With the predictably rebellious spirit of youth driving him on, Brad quickly rallies the local kids to the cause of getting the dread anti-dancing law repealed. The city council, however, is unimpressed with Brad's argument ("Leaping and dancing! Leaping...and dancing!") so Brad organizes an illegal prom across the county line, over at the old Dunwich house, a.k.a. Blood Mansion (which, if you think about it, could be another title for this turkey, i.e. Blood Mansion, but you're ingesting superheated cocaine hydrochloride [i.e. "smoking crack"] if you think I'm gonna whip up another epynomial justification for an alternate title).
It'd be explained at some point that Blood Mansion was the site of several unexplained but intensely gruesome deaths in the past; it'd basically be this story's Hill House but with a more depraved history. Our hero Brad, though, being both a charmingly flippant teen and a dismissive Big City outsider, would convince his dance fever-infected clique of bumpkin peers that Blood Mansion's ideal for their soirée and who cares about the house's reputation, it's all bullshit anyway so c'mon you sheepfuckers: LET'S DANCE!
Bad idea, Brad. Very bad idea.
So now the story'd follow the same narrative arc as Night of the Demons: aroused & awakened by the presence of so much nubile young flesh, the evil spirits of Blood Mansion would trundle up from the nether planes of their demonic slumber and right away start with their mischief, i.e. taking over the kids' bodies and slaughtering them, which'd consist of particularly atrocious modes of demise (e.g. forced inhalation of one's own penis, vaginal impalement on a bazooka, decapitation by rhino bite, etc.).
Meanwhile, you'd have some snappy-ass tunes playing on the soundtrack, like "Rude Boy," "Alejandro," and "Funplex," which wouldn't be considered "lame" or "kitschy" or "embarrassing to listen to" 20 years from now, unlike "Let's Hear It for the Boy," "Dancing in the Sheets," or "Footloose." 'Cause now we know better, right?
Anyhoo, if you've seen Footloose and Night of the Demons, you pretty much know how this whole thing's gonna turn out - except for this twist: you take the ending of Amityville II: The Possession and graft it onto this turkey, for an especially soul-chilling finale: say Brad gets possessed by one of the demons during the prom and starts wasting the farmer's daughters; then a priest shows up and performs an exorcism on Brad but ends up possessed himself; after Brad & the few kids who've survived the demonic attacks vacate the premises, the priest sits huddled in a dark corner of the mansion, waiting for the demon inside him to slowly take over...
Fade out. The end.
"Everybody cut, everybody cut!
Everybody cut, everybody cut!
Everybody cut, everbody cut!
Everybody cut footloose!"
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The January Man
I have a file in Word that I call "XB71," which serves as a kind of database of ideas & titles for movies, novels, instruction manuals, farm equipment catalogs, etc.
Poking around in XB71 today, I see that on January 7, 2004, I came up with Revenge of the Elephant Man, in which it'd be revealed that the Elephant Man and Jack the Ripper were actually the same person. As penance for Gamer and The Bounty Hunter, Gerard Butler should play the Scotland Yard investigator assigned to the case. And I don't know about you, but I think Richard Coyle (Coupling, Prince of Persia) would be perfect as John Merrick/the Ripper.
Five days later (January 12), there's this entry: "Superman vs. the Ice Demons: basically, it’s Superman & Lois Lane in bed, like in that scene in Superman II, and they just yak their heads off like in My Dinner With Andre; at the very end, a pack of ice demons breaks in and attacks, Superman blasts them with his heat vision, then he & Lois go back to their conversation." I don't know, man...to me, this sounds like the perfect date movie. 'Cause after the credits roll and everyone's walking back to their cars, all the women'd turn to their boyfriends/husbands and go, "See? Superman cuddles and talks after sex - why can't you?" Which'd then open a dialogue between significant others that'd last all the way home, after which all the boyfriends/husbands would be like, "Okay, fine: I understand why cuddling & talking after sex are important. Let's go fuck, cuddle & talk right now." But they'd end up falling asleep right after the sex anyway, and all the girlfriends/wives would be lying there all disappointed and thinking, "Fuck you, Superman vs. the Ice Demons..." (What am I, a marriage counselor over here? That's what you get for trying to use Superman vs. the Ice Demons as couples' therapy, dingus.)
It seems January of 2004 was a particularly fruitful month - there are hundreds of entries! For January 26, there's this: "Private investigator WALTER LUNCH is hired by Dr. SHELDON GRASP to find ANTOINE McBORIS, a world-famous poet who’s been missing for several days; rival poet ODIN PADILLA is a prime suspect; over the course of the investigation, Lunch discovers that Death itself is running the city of L.A.; that all the women in L.A. are actually transsexuals; that some people can teleport from one place to another through mirrors; that most people in L.A. have been possessed by the spirits of the dead & have lost their own identity long time ago." I'm thinking this kind of story'd best be told by someone like Alejandro Jodorowsky (El Topo, Santa Sangre); my second choice'd be Takashi Miike (Dead or Alive, Ichi the Killer). What do you think?
Later on that month, I came up with these titles:
Damien, Priest of the Damned - You can't go wrong with naming your protagonist "Damien" if you're telling some sort of "theological horror" story, right? Built-in subconscious associative factor right there, thanks to the (by now "ho-hum") Omen movies (and/or the story of Damien the Leper [1840-1889]).
The Diary of Figaro - Most people'd assume this is an opera movie, and I guess it could be, but really, you can do almost anything with this title - of course, this being Hollywood, it'd get shortened to just Figaro and the movie'd end up being this saccharine bildungsroman about a plucky CGI mouse named Figaro (no, really?) and his evolution from "zero to hero" over the course of 88 minutes or so. From the producers of Garfield, The Barbie Diaries, and Balto III: Wings of Change.
Terror of the CIA - Ooo, this is a good one! Not that anything with a title like this'd ever get made, but if it did, it'd probably be about the CIA creating Frankensteinian monsters for deployment in Iraq and Afghanistan. And then one of the monsters'd develop a conscience and refuse to keep doing the CIA's dirty work, so the other monsters'd be ordered to destroy him, 'cause a conscience is obviously a liability when you work for the CIA (or the U.S. government, for that matter). Hot diggity!
Ecstasy of the Swamp Creature - A Swamp Thing-like creature spends its days lollygagging in an idyllic bog (really? can a bog be "idyllic"?), just soaking up sunshine and playing with its cute forest friends. One day, a bunch of Mob goons dump a half-dead waitress in the swamp (for reasons of their own, heh heh). Our protagonist rescues & revives her, using his own "flesh" to heal her injuries; as she recovers, she begins turning into a swamp creature, too - OMG! They fall in love (bet you didn't see that one coming) and spend the happiest days - and nights (wink) - they've ever known just enjoying each other. Surprise, surprise: it all goes to hell when the Mob assholes come back to make sure there's no trace of the waitress left...
The Glitterbat - A lonely girl catches a bat, covers it with a glue and then sprinkles glitter all over it. Meanwhile, her parents get a divorce.
Exorcism at the O.K. Corral - This one shouldn't be too hard to figure out, right? You take the oft-told tale of the feud between the Earps & the Clantons and throw in an exorcist. During the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral, a haggard, foul-mouthed, whiskey-soaked priest performs an exorcism on the combatants, but instead of expelling any presumed demonic forces from the area, the ritual actually summons the spirits of the damned, who proceed to possess the people of Tombstone, Evil Dead-style! Which of course forces the Earps & the Clantons, boiling with hatred & contempt for each other, to set aside their feud and join forces to defeat the startlingly violent demons. The horror, the horror...
Gonna have dinner now. Thanks for stopping by!
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
Poking around in XB71 today, I see that on January 7, 2004, I came up with Revenge of the Elephant Man, in which it'd be revealed that the Elephant Man and Jack the Ripper were actually the same person. As penance for Gamer and The Bounty Hunter, Gerard Butler should play the Scotland Yard investigator assigned to the case. And I don't know about you, but I think Richard Coyle (Coupling, Prince of Persia) would be perfect as John Merrick/the Ripper.
Five days later (January 12), there's this entry: "Superman vs. the Ice Demons: basically, it’s Superman & Lois Lane in bed, like in that scene in Superman II, and they just yak their heads off like in My Dinner With Andre; at the very end, a pack of ice demons breaks in and attacks, Superman blasts them with his heat vision, then he & Lois go back to their conversation." I don't know, man...to me, this sounds like the perfect date movie. 'Cause after the credits roll and everyone's walking back to their cars, all the women'd turn to their boyfriends/husbands and go, "See? Superman cuddles and talks after sex - why can't you?" Which'd then open a dialogue between significant others that'd last all the way home, after which all the boyfriends/husbands would be like, "Okay, fine: I understand why cuddling & talking after sex are important. Let's go fuck, cuddle & talk right now." But they'd end up falling asleep right after the sex anyway, and all the girlfriends/wives would be lying there all disappointed and thinking, "Fuck you, Superman vs. the Ice Demons..." (What am I, a marriage counselor over here? That's what you get for trying to use Superman vs. the Ice Demons as couples' therapy, dingus.)
It seems January of 2004 was a particularly fruitful month - there are hundreds of entries! For January 26, there's this: "Private investigator WALTER LUNCH is hired by Dr. SHELDON GRASP to find ANTOINE McBORIS, a world-famous poet who’s been missing for several days; rival poet ODIN PADILLA is a prime suspect; over the course of the investigation, Lunch discovers that Death itself is running the city of L.A.; that all the women in L.A. are actually transsexuals; that some people can teleport from one place to another through mirrors; that most people in L.A. have been possessed by the spirits of the dead & have lost their own identity long time ago." I'm thinking this kind of story'd best be told by someone like Alejandro Jodorowsky (El Topo, Santa Sangre); my second choice'd be Takashi Miike (Dead or Alive, Ichi the Killer). What do you think?
Later on that month, I came up with these titles:
Damien, Priest of the Damned - You can't go wrong with naming your protagonist "Damien" if you're telling some sort of "theological horror" story, right? Built-in subconscious associative factor right there, thanks to the (by now "ho-hum") Omen movies (and/or the story of Damien the Leper [1840-1889]).
The Diary of Figaro - Most people'd assume this is an opera movie, and I guess it could be, but really, you can do almost anything with this title - of course, this being Hollywood, it'd get shortened to just Figaro and the movie'd end up being this saccharine bildungsroman about a plucky CGI mouse named Figaro (no, really?) and his evolution from "zero to hero" over the course of 88 minutes or so. From the producers of Garfield, The Barbie Diaries, and Balto III: Wings of Change.
Terror of the CIA - Ooo, this is a good one! Not that anything with a title like this'd ever get made, but if it did, it'd probably be about the CIA creating Frankensteinian monsters for deployment in Iraq and Afghanistan. And then one of the monsters'd develop a conscience and refuse to keep doing the CIA's dirty work, so the other monsters'd be ordered to destroy him, 'cause a conscience is obviously a liability when you work for the CIA (or the U.S. government, for that matter). Hot diggity!
Ecstasy of the Swamp Creature - A Swamp Thing-like creature spends its days lollygagging in an idyllic bog (really? can a bog be "idyllic"?), just soaking up sunshine and playing with its cute forest friends. One day, a bunch of Mob goons dump a half-dead waitress in the swamp (for reasons of their own, heh heh). Our protagonist rescues & revives her, using his own "flesh" to heal her injuries; as she recovers, she begins turning into a swamp creature, too - OMG! They fall in love (bet you didn't see that one coming) and spend the happiest days - and nights (wink) - they've ever known just enjoying each other. Surprise, surprise: it all goes to hell when the Mob assholes come back to make sure there's no trace of the waitress left...
The Glitterbat - A lonely girl catches a bat, covers it with a glue and then sprinkles glitter all over it. Meanwhile, her parents get a divorce.
Exorcism at the O.K. Corral - This one shouldn't be too hard to figure out, right? You take the oft-told tale of the feud between the Earps & the Clantons and throw in an exorcist. During the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral, a haggard, foul-mouthed, whiskey-soaked priest performs an exorcism on the combatants, but instead of expelling any presumed demonic forces from the area, the ritual actually summons the spirits of the damned, who proceed to possess the people of Tombstone, Evil Dead-style! Which of course forces the Earps & the Clantons, boiling with hatred & contempt for each other, to set aside their feud and join forces to defeat the startlingly violent demons. The horror, the horror...
Gonna have dinner now. Thanks for stopping by!
Copyright © 2010 by Diego Baz
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