Saturday, December 27, 2003

 

Legally Required "Lord Of The Rings" Post

Even if you haven't seen the movie, I'm sure you've heard by now that Lord Of The Rings: Return Of The King has a denouement that is ten hours long. Considering that it's a three-hour-forty-five-minute film, this could be considered a slight blemish on Peter Jackson's cinematic achievement.

But I'm not here to cast stones at Mr. Jackson, becaue if I had been director of this film, it would have taken eighteen years just to get out of the Shire. I like to hear my characters talk a lot. It's something of a joke among my fans, and by fans I mean the hobos I pay to paper the house. You could brain a warg with a Trujillo play (haHA note the LOTR reference! I am soooooo down with the kids!).

Point is, I feel some kinship with Mr. Jackson's endings. He was tying up a lot of themes, a lot of characters, and also eight years of his life. It's hard to kiss the project's hand, say "ciao baby," and walk away. You want to linger a little bit longer, run your hand up and down her fingers, stare into her deep brown eyes, shadowy pools of desire, to drown, to sleep in her...

I'm sorry, I went away for a second.

When the people in the audience responded the length of the ending, noticed their achey tushes, did the cheek-wobble in their chairs, I felt a familiar twinge. Movie people are spared that direct contact with their own artistic shortfalls. It's a mercy. Argue all you want that the encounter with the audience's distaste for your product helps make you a better artist, it also gives you plenty to mope about in the middle of the night. So in a way, I hope Mr. Jackson never hears about the popular thumbs-down to the ends-eses of his film. He's got to know that he's done something monumental. Let's not tarnish that with complaints that "he just should've ended it already!"

posted by Dan 10:55 AM
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Tuesday, December 23, 2003

 

Where My Head Is

Walking at top New Yorker speed through Union Square Station. Going over the 10,000,000 production issues for my show that need resolving before the holidays. I pass by an earnest man who hands me a pamphlet. Not thinking, I take it.

It's only when I reach the stairs that I look down to see that the pamphlet tells me that if I don't accept Jesus, I'm going to hell.

It's at this point that I realize that I should have the following letter to hand back to the earnest man and his fellows.

[I imagine this in pamphlet form, with accompanying cartoony illustrations of spiritual conflict, a la chicktracts.)

HOW LOW WILL YOU GO



TO SAVE MY SOUL?

Dear Evangelister,

I must agree with you that Jesus has got it going on. What a mensch that guy is.

Still, I can’t help but notice that you keep saying that, if I don’t accept your version of Jesus as my personal Lord and Saviour, I am going to the place with the burning and the scalding and the cracking lips with no chapstick. Okay, I sure don’t want that.

But let me ask you this. How do you think that sort of threat affects my opinion of the good Lord and His son?

Here’s a thought experiment. Say the Coca-Cola Company hires you to sell Coca-Cola in the subway. Do you walk up to strangers and say “Drink Coca-Cola, or I’m gonna punch you in the kidneys?”

READ THE WHOLE LETTER...

posted by Dan 1:14 PM
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