My Long Overdue “Enough is Enough” Response to the Modern Horror Flick in “How-To” Form
by Evan Villari
[Note: This article first appeared in Agenda #18]
Much like all the other forms of popular entertainment, the moving picture industry has once again created a market where the mindless can assemble, shell out, and forget what they just saw until the next one's release. The mind-numbing effects of this epidemic are raging with full ferocity and there ain't nothin' we can do about it. Or is there?
The horror genre has continually proven to be a money maker since its inception. The increased quality and affordability of digital video cameras, combined with the availability of easily-pirated computer-based editing software, have given amateur scribblings with predictable plot twists a much more feasible chance at becoming the next cult hit. If nothing else, we have come to accept them for lack of anything better to do after work on any given day of the week. Our hasty decision making has inevitably led to our forced experiences in recycled, non-unifying wastes of our precious time. Here's how you too can cash in and make it happen.
Pre-production: DO NOT WATCH THE MASTERS! Renoir, Kurosawa, Truffaut, Chaplin, Fellini-their contributions mean nothing. Reference contemporary work, i.e. Charlie's Angels, MTV2, House of Wax, Leno's pre-monologue entrance, and “CSI: Miami.” You might want to brush up on some dark literature, so do a google search on Poe or Longfellow and see how many pages Amazon lets you “search inside.” I bet you're itching to write? Stay focused! Remember: you're morbid.
Start up your Powerbook. Don't have one? Get one. Open iTunes, go to the music store. Find the new “it” band and download their single. Their sound should reflect aspects of yourself and your work (or what you envision your work to be like had you done any), remaining raw and energetic yet full of hollow lyrics of depravity and angst. Upload it to your MySpace profile. Wait twelve days. By now your inbox should be brimming with new friend requests (you are making a movie after all). Be selective, only add the friends that have the look you are going for. Way to network!
Now dig through your closet and find that black turtleneck your Aunt sent you two birthdays ahhhhgo. OK, so it's dark green, but it looks black in candlelight (this is the lighting condition under which you will do all of your creating anyway). Tell your mom the next time she's in Sears to pick up some black 505's; you will be getting a lot of use out of them.
Put pen to pad, its time to brainstorm. It is important to isolate yourself from the outerlings. Allow the darkness to flow through your soul and weave itself throughout your pages. Very nice, very nice. You are the macabre- don't ever forget that. Lurid themes of ghoulish pleasure are of utmost importance. Do not forget the surprise ending. See The 3 by Donald Kaufman (if you can get your hands on it). As for the title it should be short. Ideally one word-sometimes two if its catchy.
Before you secure financing, you should have a diverse cast who supports your project fully. Always start at the top. It's best to seek out actors who were on a hit show and are now desperate for work. Less talented siblings work well. Name recognition is great for the posters and cover art. Right, like Nic Turturro-you got it. As for the female lead, do not try to find the next Hollywood starlet. Leave this open for your ex-girlfriend. If nothing else, it's an excuse to call her. For supporting roles and bit parts don't hesitate to throw in former child stars. Audiences tend to respond really well to their presence in test screenings. Reserve all catch phrases for these guys. No one can bring home, “This bitch is as good as nails, 'cuz I'm gonna pound her head into the fucking floor-let's go!” quite like them. Like that? Go ahead, use it.
Pitching it: When dealing with would-be producers, play up the visionary angle. Wear something classy like a top hat or a monocle. Close your eyes when you speak and use exaggerated, flamboyant hand gestures. Try to breathe as little as possible. Use onomatopoeia when asked questions about how to tackle unforeseen obstacles encountered while shooting (this also can be quite useful when describing montage sequences). Refer to your style using any combination of the following made up adjectives: poignanic, melancholistic, visually-verbosive, unpragmatical, viscerousity, dramaturgenistic, and/or woefully-expressionistical. They are also partial to phrases like “roller coaster ride for the senses,” so throw that in where applicable. Be creative here.
In the rare instance none of this works, get a camera and shoot it yourself. Assemble a crew of students and others whom you cannot afford to pay or feed, and promise them the demo reel-building incentive of screen credit and a small percentage when it “gets picked up.” [Editor's note: This is the film industry version of what The Agenda offers its contributors for compensation.] You will need a name for your production company. It should reveal to everyone that you have a deep appreciation for what you do and take it seriously, yet have the ability to be playful, and are insanely more clever than they are. (Edgar Allan Photoplays Ltd.?)
Production: Be demanding on your subjects. Insist on multiple takes. Get that coverage, but never speak directly to them. Always use a third party to relay direction. Don't look at them unless you have to. Force the cast and crew to quit their day jobs to prove their devotion to their craft. Fire the cinematographer when you get bored and blame it on his inability to “give you green.” Show up on Tuesdays only and take naps when necessary.
Immediately after wrapping, take a vacation to Buenos Aires. Your editor will probably call incessantly. Tell him you're exhausted and he will have to cut it alone. When you get back, the rough cut will surely not meet your standards. Force him to incorporate as much of the 57 hours of footage you shot during your stay in Rio for carnival. When he does, fire him. This is a horror film, explain. Keep that footage in and make your rounds of the festival circuit.
Fabricate your entry applications. Say it has already won awards at made-up local underground avant-garde film festivals. Too many applications, too many festivals, they won't check. Who knows? In the future this fictitious achievement may even lead to you landing a job that you are way underqualified for.
When you finally get in an accredited festival, do not rely on the picture alone. It is your responsibility to attract the distributors to not only the work, but the genius behind it. You have got to make the experience memorable yourself.
The night of your screening, during that weak scene that your makeup/special effects artist could not get right, stand up and shout “fire!” Remain seated as the audience rushes out. Climb up into the balcony and then on up into the projection room. Slit the projectionist's throat with a film reel. It will create two parallel incisions vertically across his neck. Drag his body down into the lobby of the theatre. Go outside and say, “Just kidding. Come back in, guys.” Act natural when you see the corpse. Point out the similarities between the way he was killed and the characters in your movie. Punch the makeup artist in the stomach and shove his face in close to the projectionist's slow flowing gape. “That's what blood looks like. Got it?”
Unquestionably, the hysteria you've created will land you a deal. You will need it all in order to live comfortably-while in exile-somewhere off the coast of France. So, you ready to do this? I must admit I do not look forward to seeing anything from you. Maybe if my timing's right I might catch it. Understand this: it will be matinee showing-nothing more. That's all you and your god forsaken genre are good for. Prepare yourself for obscurity, hacks.
