Speak of the Devil: February 2024

Overwrought Director Plans New Film; Reporters Sigh In Dismay

Los Angeles (AP). It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a narcissistic director shall be in want of attention. At least that's how Jane Austen might put it these days. This reporter, fresh off a stint at the Super Bowl, and personally seeing a few protestors outside demanding that Taylor Swift be executed for treason, was diverted to L.A. by his editor (editor: yeah, sorry, but the readers love it when you attend these things).

It was to the headquarters of Digital Domain, one of the stomping grounds of the most ego driven person in Hollywood, and there are a lot of those (editor: are there ever).

Michael Bay.

This reporter joined a handful of real reporters and a horde of entertainment reporters in the auditorium. A podium was set up on stage with the requisite full length mirror. The entertainment reporters, being very stupid (editor: oh, they are), were abuzz about what might be announced. At length, a staff member came out and called for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I may?" she prompted. "Give it up for the greatest film auteur in the history of the cinema... Michael Bay!!!!"

The entertainment reporters broke out into rapturous applause. The real reporters shook their heads and sighed in dismay.

Bay strode out on stage, smiling his usual idiot grin, pointing at the crowd. He was dressed in his usual casual way, with dishevelled hair and a few days of stubble. He walked up towards the podium and winked at his reflection. When the applause from the entertainment reporters died down, Bay began to speak. "Thank you! It's nice to see you all here today! It's a great day to be here, isn't it? Of course it is." Bay laughed in that awkward, not unlike an unhinged serial killer way of his.

"Now then, I'm a busy man. Got lots of projects on the go. But I called you here because I've got another project on the go that I want to talk to you about," Bay blathered on (editor: emphasis on blathered).

Bay carried on. "So then, for a long while, there was another director out there who liked doing films with holiday titles in them. Romantic comedies, really. Meet cute moments and all that dreck. Well, you know I'm not one for that. I'd rather just have explosions and hot babes waxing cars to an Aerosmith song and more explosions. But that's not the point. The point is doing a Michael Bay film with a holiday in the title. And so my next project in the pipeline is going to be Valentine's Day."

Entertainment reporters broke out into cheers and applause. Real reporters shook their heads. "You have got to be kidding," this reporter told Bay (editor: tell me he's kidding).

"No, I'm not kidding," Bay insisted. "But I'm not one for romantic comedies either, so I'm not making a romantic comedy. Instead it's going to be a period drama. With explosions. It's gonna be about the St. Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929. Al Capone, with explosions."

"Is this a joke?" another reporter asked.

"Why do you not take me seriously?" Bay asked back. "Look, that's not important right now. What's important is my cast for the film. Starting off with the guy I want playing Bugs Moran... Mr. Nicolas Cage!"

Cage came out on stage to much applause from the entertainment reporters. He was looking his usual dishevelled and crazy self, stumbling about in a drunken stupor, carrying a bottle of scotch. "Hello!" he called out. "It's good to see you!" He shook hands with Bay and took a swallow of the liquor.

"And playing tenacious police sergeant Mick "Waldo" Shaughnessy, another of my favourite actors, Shia LaBeouf!" Bay announced, and the reporters broke out into more applause.

LaBeouf came out on stage, waved to the crowd, and walked over to Bay and Cage. "Shia is here! Shia knows all and sees all! Shia wants to know why the producers kept him out of the last Indiana Jones movie!" (editor: he's still doing the talking in third person thing?)

Bay nodded. "They should have let me direct that. And give it up one more time for our leading lady. She'll be playing Francesca Moran, the niece of our Bugs and the paramour of our police sergeant, caught between two worlds. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Megan Fox!!!!"

Fox came out on stage, wearing a typical low cut dress. She gave the entertainment reporters an eyeful by leaning over. This reporter wondered how much plastic surgery had thus far been applied on stage (editor: I imagine a lot).

Bay grinned. "Ladies and gentlemen, my leading cast..."

"So who's playing Al Capone?" this reporter asked.

"I haven't decided yet," Bay acknowledged. "I wanted Buscemi, but he told me to go **** myself for some reason. But I'm still on the lookout."

"So you're making a film about a small group of mobsters getting lined up against a wall and... just getting shot?" another reporter asked.

"Well, and what happens afterwards," Bay answered. "And what'll happen afterwards is explosions and tough choices and lots of drama and lots more explosions. Because I know my audience. And they love explosions. The more the better. And I give 'em what they want. And I expect the Academy to give me what I want. Every Oscar in every category, including for foreign language films, since half the film is going to have Italian dialogue, what with this being being about Italian-American mobsters and explosions. But that's for down the line. Because for now, our film has to get made, and we gotta get busy. Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for coming out, it's been a pleasure."

The entertainment reporters broke out into applause as the foursome disappeared back stage. The real reporters wondered why studios kept backing Michael Bay (editor: they've run completely out of ideas if you ask me.) This reporter took his leave, personally thankful that he was not a film critic and thus obliged to attend screenings of dreck like this (editor: you're being too kind).