I like my coffee black and unsweetened, so I can taste the
pristine flavor of the coffee. I mean,
why drink coffee if you don’t like how it tastes?
“I have to ‘doctor’ it.”
I have a better idea.
Drink something else.
I know. That’s hardline. And borderline doctrinaire.
“Doc Trinaire. You are
wanted in surgery.”
“Call me Doctor Trinaire or I’m not coming.”
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah.
As with liking pristine coffee, I like my commercial
entertainment, unencumbered by diluting illusion and artifice.
And I have never once found
anything close. (I give acknowledging “passes” to the likes
of The Wizard of Oz, but only
if they are truly exceptional.)
I know funny people in actual
life; I have occasionally been one myself. Somebody says something funny, you laugh real
hard. Where is that paralleling natural
exuberance in TV shows in movies?
I saw the film The Meyerowitz Stories (subtitled, “New
and Selected” as if they are actual stories when they’re not.) All I experienced in that movie was “acting”,
everyone furiously pretending to be “troubled.”
The withholding father. The bickering brothers. The sister’s a basket case.
Bleh. Bleh.
Bleh.
Who knows? Maybe it was the writing.
“Look at this nightmarish
family.”
I get it.
“You see how dysfunctional they
are?”
Terrible.
“Unadulterated agony.”
Message received. They’re unhappy. Is this over soon?
Our entertainment feels dismissingly fake to me. The thankful exception to the
norm of slathered illusion and artifice:
Parts of Judd Apatow movies.
It seems like
they’re not acting sometimes. Probably because they’re
not acting, they’re improvising, the freeing spontaneity of
that approach according a welcome reality to the cinematic proceedings.
However, like in Apatow’s The Big Sick, when they get to the obligatory “story points”, they’re
acting. And not particularly skillfully because
they’re improvisers.
I know.
I am extremely difficult to please.
Though I do not – the writer assures us – just “talk the
talk.” Like those intrepid, trailblazing
pioneers of Yore – and elsewhere; sorry, I can’t help myself – I also,
demonstrably, “Walk the walk.” Insistently believing, if you don’t find it, do
it yourself.
Which I did.
Offering – as close as is humanly possible – unadulterated commercial
entertainment.
Like the All Things
Considered audition commentary I submitted, about “The people who do
commentaries on the radio, they’re not talking
to you; they’re reading to you. And when I said, ‘They’re reading to you’, I
read that. And when I said, ‘I read
that’, I read that too. And when I said,
‘I read that too’, I also read that. I am reading this whole thing!”
Ah, yes – an overdue expose, blowing the lid off the radio
commentary racket.
All Things Considered
turned it down.
Intrepid Experiment Number Two: * (* Not in chronological order.)
I created a sitcom called Family Man, trying to replicate normal, everyday life. That “normal everyday life” being my own.
The lead character was a comedy writer. Married, with both a stepdaughter and a biological
daughter. Like me. (I threw in a boy, to
play “Young Me.” Which sounds Chinese,
but it isn’t.)
I ordered a living room set built, duplicating our actual living
room at home. The house’s “Exterior
Location” – the front of our Santa Monica craftsman bungalow.
I got rid of the live studio audience, liberating me from
writing the obligatory “hard jokes” required to make live studio audiences
guffaw, and giving me the freedom to garner laughs in a naturalistic
manner.
I told stories that had actually happened to me, in my
earlier life and as a parent.
Family Man was the
most exhilarating formula-free writing experience of my career, the closest I
ever came to the kind of comedy writing I inherently believed in.
The show was cancelled after seven episodes.
And then there’s this blog.
Where if I mess up or change direction, I leave everything in, trying replicate,
not manicured essay writing but the
meandering flow of recognizable conversation.
My readers are precious to me.
But they are tellingly few in number.
Sending the reverberating message:
“We like illusion and artifice. Leave
us alone.”
Maybe an uncontrived movie or TV show can’t be done. It sure hasn’t been so far. Possibly because it
is effectively impossible to pull off.
Or because the “Smart Money” knows there is no money in attempting it.
Yeah, well… (SIGH)
I’m going to keep at it, at least on this fragmentary level.
Who knows?
Maybe someone interested will pick up the torch, carrying it
successfully to the box office “Finish Line.”
I hope so. I know it’s worth
attempting.
Paging:
A more muscular champion to get the job done.
Earl,
ReplyDeleteDon't lack of numbers get you down when it comes to blogging. Or blog comments.
I don't know about you, but for me, every time a reader says "I've gone back to the beginning and read every single entry," I think Wow! and I had no idea you were even out there! You never commented even once!
But it sure encourages me to carry on.
Best,
Kate
we may be few in number, but we enjoy quality writing. EP, you da greatest!
ReplyDeleteIf Family Man possessed superhuman powers could be still running.
ReplyDeleteAccording to a General Motors website, in 2016, they sold 12 times more Chevrolets than Cadillacs in the US. Popularity does not tell the whole story. You're the Caddy of blog writers.
ReplyDeleteWell, I liked Family Man. I just think you were ahead of your time.
ReplyDelete