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 19th
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!).
Oh my. Macabre much? Scary humor!
ReplyDeleteMacabre indeed!
DeleteYou never seem to run out of stories to have Michael Bay blow up !
ReplyDeletecheers, parsnip and badger
I don't think he'd appreciate my take on him!
Delete