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22 April 2007 @ 03:21 am
re: grindhouse  
I imagine that I am hired by Quentin Tarantino to argue his case to studio executives and the producers of his next hit movie, Rape Diveslasher.

"But these chracters - they just talk for 10 minutes about how they're GOING to say something, and then when they say it - it's not even interesting! It's just blank foreshadowing for the sendup of this, admittedly, witty one-liner half an hour later, but, I mean, WHY do you need this much boring exposition?! It doesn't even reveal anything, or develop the characters, or establish a theme! Unless the theme is wordiness! And why do they talk like Pitchfork Media?!"

"Look, here's the thing. This is real. It's so real - it's realer than real. The problem here isn't that the dialogue is nonsensical and self-referential to the point of masturbating a masturbation while staring in a mirror - that's not it. The problem is that this is realer than reality.

Quentin has simply become so powerful, so full of...wisdom and observation, that he's outpaced existence itself! THE UNIVERSE IS NO LONGER REAL ENOUGH FOR WHAT HE HAS TO SAY! GRAVITY IS AN AFFECTATION TO HIS BRILLIANCE, CAUSALITY A NUISANCE TO BE DEALT WITH IN EDITING!

I TELL YOU, MAN, THE VERY MOTIVATIONS AND PSYCHOLOGICAL DRIVES THAT FUEL HUMAN ACTION ARE BUT CLICHE, HINDRANCES TO THE PURITY OF HIS ART, SO GREAT IT IS THAT OUR WORDS WE USE TO DESCRIBE IT ARE INSULTS TO ITS BRILLIANCE!"

"Jesus, man. You've gone mad! MAD!"

"Mad, am I? MAD?! Hahahahahahaha! I have stood before PEOPLE, REAL HUMAN PEOPLE WITH EYEBALLS THAT DO NOT EXPLODE, WHO DRIVE CARS THAT WERE NOT DISCONTINUED TWENTY YEARS AGO, AND WHO TALK ABOUT THINGS MORE THAN A HUNDRED PEOPLE IN THE WORLD KNOW AND CARE ABOUT!

I...I have done this...I...I have HEARD MYSELF. A motif of a jukebox record, selecting songs no one has heard of, twenty minutes of sexy twentysomethings dancing in a bar, to establish that they are young...I've...defended the decision to make extraneous satellite characters, the only in the whole of a two hour movie that speak like actual people - I have defended their aesthetic demonization, on the grounds that their coherence is a sin correlate and absolute with their comprehensibility.

I do not know myself. Have lost myself. I am paid. I...I...I've done...questionable things."

"But none of this explains why any of this is necessary for the movie!"

"Do you know what it is to live in fear? I...wait...what? Necessary? Necessary?! THIS IS A MOVIE ABOUT A BAND OF TIME TRAVELING STIRPPER-WARRIORS FROM 1978 FIGHTING A WANDERING TRUCK DRIVER-RAPIST AND HIS ARMY OF CLONED BANK ROBBERS! NECESSITY HAS AS MUCH TO DO WITH THIS AS WE HAVE TO DO WITH THE INTERPLAN ROCKET SYSTEM TO THE MARTIAN COLONIES!!!!!

DO NOT QUESTION THE WORKINGS OF TARANTINO, LEST YOUR MIND BE BLOWN BEYOND REPAIR, YOUR AGE MADE MANIFEST, AND ALL YOUR SECRETARIES ABANDON THEIR AFFAIRS!"

"I...I, will the movie, will it profit?"

"They all profit. They always profit. God save me, they profit."

"Then I suppose we'll allow him, the, uh, artistic liberty."

"I've...seen things you people wouldn't believe. Entire scenes exploding off the shoulder of establishing a tone about the tone about the content of a speech no one cares about...jump cuts glittering in post, made on the basis of referencing old 70's homages to French movies about noir movies from the 40's...all these moments...will be lost, like gunshots, in a monologue about Superman. Time...to die..."

Because any situation so horrible that I should find myself defending such unutterable drivel, such bizarrely incompetent trash, there really is no other ending, no other resolution. Only an attempt, however imperfect, to mirror Hauer as Roy Baty could save me. And I doubt it would be enough.
 
 
 
 etomlef: GIGGLIE!!?!etomlef on April 22nd, 2007 10:07 am (UTC)
i.... might.... love you.


hahagheghaghhgaaaa