Forty Loud Explosions With An Axe

Lunatic Director Announces Historical Drama With Forty Whacks

Los Angeles (AP) It is a painful truth that sometimes reporters are repeatedly sent on unpleasant assignments. Often it is because they have run afoul of a cranky editor who (editor: shut up!) has no sense of humour (editor: what did I just say?) In the case of this reporter, he has a grouch of an editor who can’t be in the same room as this reporter due to a restraining order against said editor after a series of violent death threats (editor: you had it coming!) Why this reporter’s newspaper continues to employ an editor with a serious anger management problem is a mystery (editor: it’s called blackmail material on the publisher, you bastard! Wait, did I write that down? Stop the presses!)

Regardless, this reporter was dispatched via email to the production offices of Digital Domain this week, along with a few other actual reporters and a horde of entertainment reporters, that breed of drooling, vacant eyed nitwits with not one brain among them. Digital Domain is the working headquarters of the world’s dumbest movie director, a man with a serious infatuation for explosions in films matched only by an infatuation for himself. This reporter had often been dispatched by his cranky editor (editor: shut up!) to cover press conferences announcing the latest in a string of films by the director- a string of films in production so extensive that it seems those films might never get made.

The assembled reporters, real and of the entertainment variety, were shown into a familiar auditorium on the premises. The real reporters looked at their watches and compared notes on the bad luck that had them here. The entertainment reporters talked amongst themselves and speculated on what kind of announcement might be made today. A spokeswoman came out on stage, where a podium and full length mirror had already been set up. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. Without further ado, it is my privilege to welcome to the stage… the one, the only… the greatest film director of all time… Mr. Michael Baaaaaaaaaaay!”

The entertainment reporters broke out into applause and cheers. The real reporters checked their watches again and rolled their eyes. Bay strode out on stage, looking as he usually did: the disheveled hair, the day or two of stubble, the jeans, the blazer, the denim shirt unbuttoned at the throat. And of course the big dumb grin and the vacant eyes betraying his status as a dimwit. He walked towards the podium, looked at himself in the mirror, smiled, winked at himself, and faced the audience. “Thank you for coming out today! It’s so wonderful of you to come and join us for what’s going to be a great movie announcement.”

“We love you, Michael!” one of the entertainment reporters yelled.

“And I love me too!” Bay replied. “Now then, I’m a busy guy, with lots of films in the pipeline, lots of things that are in production and waiting to be done. But I want to talk about a film I’m going to do too. A film that’s inspired by my stopping in to see the film of someone else. Now I know what you’re thinking.” This reporter rolled his eyes, doubting that Bay would appreciate what he was thinking at that moment (editor: show some respect! Michael Bay is a visionary!). “You’re thinking, ‘Michael, why would the greatest director in the history of film want to watch anyone else’s films?’ And you’re right. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to keep an eye out on the competition, you know what I mean?”

He paused for a moment, looked at himself in the mirror again, and winked at himself. And then he carried on. “So I went to see that movie that came out recently about Lizzie Borden. Chloe Sevigny and what’s her face from those sparkly vampire movies were starring in it. Strangely enough they’ve never wanted to work with me. That’s beside the point. The point is that I’m watching this film, and I’m thinking two things. First of all, there’s not enough explosions. Second, why haven’t I been approached to make a movie about this? I was practically born to make that film. So I’m going to make one myself. I’m going to make Forty Whacks With An Axe. That’s a working title, by the way. Might be completely different by the time we get into production. Isn’t that a great idea?”

The Borden story is steeped in American history, with the 1892 murders of Andrew and Abby Borden, the father and step mother of Lizzie Borden, who was later acquitted in the case. It’s a story that has taken on a life of its own, adapted for the stage and screen, turning up in folk rhymes, and the subject of academic papers. It’s been compared to high profile trials that came decades later. And surely it would be better left in the hands of directors not named Michael Bay (editor: stop insulting Michael Bay!). The entertainment reporters were applauding rapturously. Bay was soaking in their adulation.

“So without further ado, let me introduce my cast,” Bay announced. “First, my leading lady, the heroine of the story. Ladies and gentlemen, there’s really only one actress I can see in this role, and she’s agreed to play the part. Give it up for Megan Fox!”

The actress came out on stage, dressed as you’d usually expect- the low cut dress, the high heels. She gave the entertainment reporters an eyeful of cleavage, and walked over to Bay. “I’m going to enjoy playing this part,” she said. “Particularly handling an axe.”

Bay nodded. “Now then when you make a historical drama, they say you should pay attention to facts and that, but I’m of the opinion that why let facts get in the way of a good story? So I’m being a bit creative with the casting of the attorney representing Lizzie in the trial of the 19^th century. In reality it was three guys. I’m going to make it one, and he’s going to be the love interest too. Because you’ve gotta have that in one of my films, along with explosions and Aerosmith doing the theme song and hot babes waxing cars… oh, wait, this is before cars, so well, we’ll figure out something else with hot babes. Anyway, playing the attorney Benjamin Baker, one of my favourite actors and I know he’s one of yours.  Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Shia LaBeouf!”

The actor strode out on stage, waving like an idiot, smiling in his demented way. “Hello! Welcome to you all! Shia is pleased that you have come to see Shia! Shia will bestow his grace upon you! Shia knows all!” He strode over to Bay and Fox. This reporter wondered if Shia knew this reporter wished he’d contract a nice nasty case of Ebola.

Bay carried on. “Now then, we’ve got to build up Lizzie into a sympathetic character, and part of that is making her father and step mother into the nastiest, least sympathetic characters you have ever seen in a film. Which is why I’ve cast an actor I’ve worked with a lot with one I haven’t worked with before. First off, playing Abby Borden, give it up for Catherine O’Hara.”

The actress, known for a mix of comedy and drama over the years, came out on stage, looking irritated. “For the record, I lost a card game with this moron and the stakes were I had to star in one of his films. I don’t like this anymore than you do.”

Bay laughed. “What a kidder!”

O’Hara glared at him. “I’m not joking.”

Bay ignored that. “And playing Andrew Borden, one of my pals, who I so often work with. Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only… Nicolas Cage!”

The actor strode out on stage, carrying a bottle of scotch, half empty. “Hey! Great to see all of you!” He stumbled over to the others, while this reporter wondered if anyone in his life might have the fortitude to point out his drinking problem (editor: he doesn’t have a drinking problem! But he would if he had to put up with you!) This reporter would note as an aside that his cranky editor has just admitted to being a drunkard (editor: I am not a drunkard!).

“Ladies and gentlemen, the cast of Forty Whacks With An Axe!” Bay said, gleaming with pride. “Coming to a theatre near you whenever the hell I get to making it. Thanks for coming out!” The entertainment reporters broke out into applause as the director and his cast withdrew from the stage. This reporter checked his watch and wondered how long it would take to file a story. This reporter also mused that if his cranky editor had been around during the Borden murders, his cranky editor might have ended up a suspect in the (editor: I’m sharpening up an axe right now, restraining order be damned!)

Post script: this reporter has just been threatened yet again by his volatile, unhinged editor. This reporter is pretty sure that constitutes a violation of the restraining order and urges the authorities to take his cranky editor into custody (editor: forty whacks with an axe, you bastard!).