Note: My smart-ass comment about tiny houses in yesterday’s post prompted a great comment from my stepsister, which in turn led me to write this. Not quite what she was asking for, but I like it.
HAUNTED TINY HOUSE
EXTERIOR – NIGHT: A dark, cloudy moonless night. The wind whips through the trees surrounding a clearing. In the clearing sits what looks like a child’s playhouse.
INTERIOR – NIGHT: We’re inside of a tiny house, 8 x 10 if that. We enter through the door and into a kitchen/living area, with a tiny fridge and a tiny stove and a tiny table. The camera tracks left and up a tiny ladder to a tiny loft where a white hipster couple — CLEMENTINE and DJANGO — sleep. Clementine has dark black hair cut into a bob. Django has red shaggy hair and a giant beard. Both have multiple piercings and tattoos.
A LOUD BANG IS HEARD — awakening the CLEMENTINE, who sits up too fast and bangs her head into the ceiling.
Since Cara and I moved in together a hundred or so years ago, my consumption of horror movies has increased exponentially. She likes them. And, truth be told, the genre has grown on me, partly due to some pretty quality stuff being released in the last decade or so. There’s also some outright garbage that can be enjoyable in its own right.
Last night, I watched E.T. from start to finish. I can’t remember the last time I did that. I do remember that the first time I tried to watch E.T., things didn’t go so well.
I freaked out right around the time E.T. was found sick in the ravine, white and almost dead. If memory serves correctly, I ran out to the bathroom and barely succeeded in puking up a box of Hot Tamales and soda (25% chance it was Dr Pepper, 75% chance it was Mr. Pibb, way back before Pibb Xtra was a thing).
I’ve always chalked it up to being scared. I was a scaredy-cat as a kid. I’m told that when the family went to see King Kong at the drive-in, I hid in terror on the floor of the back seat. I could be misremembering someone else’s memory there. But the point is, I was a chicken. And I just fueled my imagination with books about Big Foot and ghosts and aliens.
In the 1980s, a rag-tag group of misfits band together for an underground adventure in order to save themselves — and their town! Come for the journey, stay for the laughs — and the scares! You’ll laugh, you’ll scream — you might even cry! I’m going to type a complete sentence — and then set off another related sentence with a dash!
You may have heard of the runaway success of this small indie film, “It.” It’s based off of one of the less-well known works of a relatively obscure short-story author who sometimes dabbled in horror and science fiction. Previous successful movies based on his work– “Stand by Me,” “The Shawshank Redemption,” “Misery,” “The Green Mile” — came mostly from his more literary work.
One thing writers like to do is cast the movie version of their own books. It’s especially fun when you have absolutely no sign of a movie deal on the horizon. At any rate, people have asked me before who I’d see playing various people in The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival. And I’ve typically been stumped with the part of Father Steve.
Vicky, I always sort of saw as Jennifer Aniston. Don’t judge me.
But Father Steve? George Clooney’s too old and John Krasinski was too tall (and goofy) for my liking. Then, yesterday, while walking up Third Avenue, I saw a movie poster and Paul Rudd’s face was on it.
It’s totally him. I think. Someone make that happen.
Anyone else who read the book, who’d you cast in the various parts?
Miss Rita’s tough as well. Only person I can kinda come up with is Alfree Woodard. Someone who can play older and pull of comedy as well as gravitas. Problem is I picture Miss Rita as pretty skinny. (One Facebook, someone suggested Wanda Sykes, which I kind of dig. You know how comedians like that crossover dramatic roles)
Brother Paul. Hmmm. Robert Duvall. But he’s getting up in age. Maybe John Goodman?
But the only remake you’ll be lining up to watch next year is Piranha*. That remake will star Ving Rhames, Christopher Lloyd, Eli Roth, Elisabeth Shue, Dina Meyer and Paul Scheer.
Oh, and Richard Dreyfus.
The pity here is that they’re not remaking Piranha* Two: The Spawning, in which the piranha* have been genetically modified into FLYING piranha as part of a military experiment GONE HORRIBLY WRONG. Then again, perhaps they were afraid to mess with a movie that was directed by James Cameron. (Go on, click on the link if you don’t believe me.)
*To get the full effect, you should be pronouncing piranha in faux Spanish/Portuguese Pee-ron-ya. Even better if you use Beavis’ Cornholio voice.
So last night I went to see District 9 at the United Artist Court Street Stadium 12. If you’ve been to this theater, your probably already know where this is heading. This, after all, is the same theater where I’ve witnessed:
1) A family bring in a full Chinese takeout meal consisting of soup and noodles, which they slurped throughout the movie. Oh. The movie was “United 93.”
2) A woman bring in six kids under the age of 12 to watch “The Watchmen.”