RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Discuss anything you want.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Wed Jun 10, 2020 4:08 pm

#5 AN IMMACULATE CLOSING OF A DOOR

This section of the film essentially involves the City Slicker running into his new home to escape the rain, walking up a staircase while fondling the bannister and inspecting his new bedroom.

It will be during these scenes he will make some comments over how everything has miraculously already been unpacked to explain the fact that it looks as if the home has been lived in for years. I can only imagine the Assistant Director will also use this as an opportunity to make unflattering comments about how he needs to remodel everything here, finding how the home looks to be offending to his sensibilities since the tastes of the Directors family and his family contrast so strongly. He finds the presence of wooden furniture to be terribly unmodern and bookcases full of books that have actually been read to be intellectually gauche. In character as the City Slicker he blames the Trucker for the current state of interior decoration. It is a clear dig that he thinks of the Director's family as out of touch primitives who would probably be happy to have a Trucker help them in such matters.

Why these two have been friends now for over ten years is baffling. It is hardly surprising that their relationship has already included a foiled murder plot and multiple sustained silent treatments over the years. But sometimes the greatest art is created in the most acrimonious of partnerships so they persists, both as filmmakers and as friends. At least for the time being.

For now though The City Slicker is tired after his long day of littering and heeding the bad omens of Truckers. To the great relief of the Directors grandmother, he decides to hold off on inflicting his modernist sensibilities upon the home for the time being. He needs to relax for a moment. And so, just as most new homeowners do, he curls up with a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird that is sitting conveniently nearby and quickly falls asleep. The only believable part of this scene will be how quickly the pantomime of reading tires the Assistant Director.

Much like all of the film so far, these scenes feel uninteresting and promise no sense of any coming drama. The audience will likely feel this is little more than a waste of the grandmother's hundred dollar deposit. Videos of sleeping cats would be preferred.

But at the beginning of this scene, we will have one of the few moments of editing bliss to be found throughout the entirity of the film. Up until now, the delay between pressing the record button and actually recording has led to important chunks of dialogue being cut out and a ragged form of editing that makes everything seem like little more than a hastily assembled home movie. But as the City Slicker runs up the pathway, cowering from the rain, looking cautiously around before opening the front door and stepping into his home, a miracle takes place. As he walks inside and begins to close the door, the film cuts to an interior, and the door seamlessly continues its destination towards being closed. Even the decades old squeak in the hinges sings perfectly from one shot to the next.

Squuuueeee/eeeeeeeek

Both the Director and Assistant Director will marvel at the scene as they play it back over and over. They are in the living room, checking on the progress of the movie so far, as grandparents sit on the couch with hands over their faces. They seem more bored by what they are seeing than offended, which is the opposite of the Directors intentions. But for this fleeting moment, all seems right. These two budding filmmakers find hope in this two second stretch of VHS tape. Over and over they watch it, delight over that sustained squeak of a hinge, the fluidity of the edit. They tell themselves that this is almost like a real scene from a real movie.

The grandparents ask if they can ever get back to their viewing of Rain Man. The Director scowls. The Assistant Director casts disparaging glances at the surrounding antiques.
User avatar
Jinnistan
Posts: 3442
Joined: Tue Mar 17, 2015 5:47 pm

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by Jinnistan » Wed Jun 10, 2020 5:04 pm

crumbsroom wrote:
Wed Jun 10, 2020 4:08 pm
Squuuueeee/eeeeeeeek
Image
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Wed Jun 10, 2020 6:56 pm

Jinnistan wrote:
Wed Jun 10, 2020 5:04 pm
Image
I feel a greater kinship to the work of Chester Novell Turner than the immaculate productions of Ed Wood. Turner also had the budgetary foresite to use scraps of paper for his opening credit sequence.

User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Fri Jun 12, 2020 5:55 pm

#6 THE HOUSEWARMING PARTY: PART 1

A close up of a finger dramatically pressing a doorbell. Inside, we hear the chime ring out. A Yorkshire terrier begins to bark from the other room, where up until then it had been asleep and peacefully farting on the grandmothers lap. Upstairs, The City Slicker, rouses from his sleep and comes downstairs to answer the door.

As the door creaks open, we will find the director standing in the doorway now dressed as The Party Animal. This is really little more than his imagining of what an average adult looks like, and so he wears a red peaked cap pushed down to his eyebrows and an oversized rain jacket of his grandmother's. The pockets are undoubtedly stuffed full of Kleenex's, all of them stained with the blood from her chronic nosebleeds.

It must be said that it looks less like the Party Animal is coming to attend a party and more like he is trying to sneak into an age restricted movie. In order to ensure the audience that he is in fact a party animal, he will hold his arms up in what we will assume is the 'time to party' style, sleeves flopping over his hands as he begins to talk animatedly about the bothers of adulthood.

"Hey, maaaaaan, long tiiiime no seeeee. What ya doooing livin' all the way out in the countryyy, maaaan. This is craaaazy, out in the middle of nooowheere".

He lets himself in. He walks almost sideways like a crab. This is the usual gait of the Director, but slightly exaggerated because he is acting.

"Seriously, what kind of place is this to live? Out in the country where there nothing but a bunch of trees and other crap. Maaaan, are you ever a craaazy caat"

The City Slicker greets his friend and invites him into the kitchen. The Party Animal shuffles into the room, his arms flailing, his sleeves becoming an increasing inconvenience since they continue to obscure all of the dramatic pointing he is doing. He feels these gestures would go a long way in defining the character, who he sees as definitely being the pointing type. Lots of pointing is the kind of thing a cool adult would do, he figures.

Continuing to gripe about his long trip into the country, in a final fit of indignation The Party Animal cries out "Where's the fooood? Where's the boooooze, maaaaan? What kind of party is this?".

It is at this moment he comes upon the remains of a meat pie on a plate. It has been left over from the directors dinner since he doesn't eat crusts. The Party Animal begins throwing it around the table and stabbing at these discarded fragments with a nearby fork. "You call this party food, maaaaan". He pounds the plate and keeps twitching his head towards the food until the Assistant Director understands he is meant to zoom in on the meat pie as The Party Animal continues to humiliate it on the kitchen table.

"What is this maaaan, a tourtierre? Gross. Lame. Son of a bitch. What kind of party expects me to eat that, geeeesh? Get me some booze, maaaan"

Outside of the room, the grandmother is definitely listening in on how the meat pie she cooked is being talked about with such disdain. Humiliation and despair crash down upon her, disrupting her viewing of Rain Man. At the end of the couch her husband chuckles over talk of KMart underpants. She wishes she could live such a carefree life as his and glares at him while still keeping an ear on the movie shoot taking place in the kitchen.

Surely someone will defend her meat pie, eventually. Otherwise, she knows she may be bedridden for days.

Back to the movie, the scene now calls for a second party guest to arrive. Unlike The Party Animal, this one has not been invited. The doorbell rings and the dog barks again. In shuffles the character of The Hillbilly. This will be played by the AD and is dressed exactly as the City Slicker had been, but minus the Benneton jacket. To indicate he is a hillbilly the AG does his best Delta Burke impression. Or maybe it's meant to be Park Overall. There is a legion of Sassy Southern Women who exist at any given time in the brain meat of the Assistant Director.

"I heard you wuz havin' a liddle, git together?" he slowly drawls as he walks towards the camera, seemingly speaking to no one. The Yorkshire Terrier has now come into the front hall to investigate, drawn to the magic of making movies, and runs to greet the Hillbilly.

The dogs esophagus will collapse, as it always does whenever he gets excited, and so he appears to be choking to death on the floor as he makes his film debut. The Hillbilly bends to pick him up. "Lookee here, it's a liddle critter". The dog squirms and honks like a goose. The Hillbilly giggles as he holds the dog out far away from him, as if he is either inspecting his peculiarly large dick, or is pantomiming the moment before he drops it off a roof.

The camera cuts to an ominous City Slicker watching the Hillbilly fraternize with the animal, his arms crossed, disapproving over the specter of poverty that is now in his midst. "His name is Murphy". His tone is threatening. The name of the dog is embarrassing.

Putting the dog down, the Hillbilly says he didn't see The City Slicker there as the Terrier runs quickly away, embarrassed by his poor performance in front of the camera and powered by the farts he has left behind him in the room.

"I have ways of not being seen". The City Slickers ominous tone of voice continues. The Assistant Director clearly views poor white men as being objects of derision, even when it is he himself who is playing them. It is clear he will need to immediately bathe when he gets home, if he hopes to get the stench of this common-folk performance off of him.

Against all his better judgement, he invites the Hillbilly into the party, which seems to just be getting started.
User avatar
Captain Terror
Posts: 2481
Joined: Wed Nov 22, 2017 12:06 pm
Location: New Orleans, LA

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by Captain Terror » Fri Jun 12, 2020 6:07 pm

*hoping Party Animal is the first to be murdered*
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Fri Jun 12, 2020 6:41 pm

Captain Terror wrote:
Fri Jun 12, 2020 6:07 pm
*hoping Party Animal is the first to be murdered*
Don't you like to paaaaarty?

Laaaaame.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Fri Jun 12, 2020 6:43 pm

In fairness to Party Animal, I imagine all of these characters were manifestations of me and the Assistant Directors self loathing, so we really should want them all to die at this point.

But, yes, he's horrible and memories of him torment me in my darkest moments.

Up against the wall, Party Animal!
User avatar
Captain Terror
Posts: 2481
Joined: Wed Nov 22, 2017 12:06 pm
Location: New Orleans, LA

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by Captain Terror » Fri Jun 12, 2020 8:19 pm

"Where's the fooood? Where's the boooooze, maaaaan? What kind of party is this?"

Image


I'm picturing Harry Ellis in a cap. Maybe I'm just bringing my own baggage to this film.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Fri Jun 12, 2020 8:32 pm

Captain Terror wrote:
Fri Jun 12, 2020 8:19 pm
"Where's the fooood? Where's the boooooze, maaaaan? What kind of party is this?"

Image


I'm picturing Harry Ellis in a cap. Maybe I'm just bringing my own baggage to this film.
Maybe if Ellis had a gangly, inbred, 14 year old Hell twin, you might be seeing clearly.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Sun Jun 14, 2020 5:54 pm

AN INTERLUDE IN THE CRYPT OF THE TAPE KEEPER

He rarely leaves the house anymore. His fingernails have grown long. Unkempt facial hair does not become him but there is something resembling a beard upon his face. He drinks whiskey mixed with soda all day long, an unfortunate affectation he has only picked up in the past few years and has caused his physical form to appear bloated, and his skin discoloured. Once a clean freak, his home has supposedly long gone into disrepair. He won't allow guests over to see what has happened. He can't be bothered to clean for company.

It was shortly after he came into possession of the sole copy of Rambling Man that this misfortune seems to have been heaped upon him. A cursed film. First it was family misfortune. A brother diagnosed with MS. Another brother hit by a truck. A sister indoctrinated into a cult. The death of a cruel and sadistic father. Then mental deterioration soon followed. He would wake in the middle of the night to hear someone screaming obscenities in the street. He tries to claim to friends this person on the street is him from the future. Friends dismiss the stories. Try and act as if everything is fine. It won't be until he begins waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of his own screaming, alone in bed, that he has his suspicions confirmed. He has become someone else. And he is frightened of this person.

He is soon prescribed heavy anti-psychotic medication. He often appears confused when approached by friends who run into him shopping in the market. Most friends simply don't even recognize him anymore though, and walk on past. He probably prefers it his way.

If only he hadn't been given this cursed tape. He had only initially taken it as a favour to The Director. He had been in good health and spirits then and claimed he knew how to transfer it to a DVD. This had piqued The Directors interest. He had hoped to one day edit it into something somewhat watchable, and having it on this format would help. But this favour never would happen. Shortly after he came into possession of the film, he would quickly shut down any conversation of how the transfer was coming along. After weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, appeals to just give the tape back and not worry about his promise are met with prompt "Fuck you's".

Considering the value of the tape, under normal situations The Director would become forceful with the Tape Keeper in demanding it back. But it seems every mention of it, no matter how vague, causes the Tape Keeper untold anxiety. He shuts down, and will go into hiding for months at a time in order not to answer any questions about it. The Director wonders if he simply lost it. Or if the medication he's on makes him forget he even has it. There have been rumours that he has kept it so he can watch it over and over again, watching all of these friends of his that are so much younger here and seem so much happier than what they became. Friends that he doesn't see anymore and who he used to see every weekend, Friday, 9:30 on the dot, as per his request, back when he was a social type soul.

What has happened to the tape probably doesn't really even matter anymore. Even if the film has not been impossibly lost, its Keeper most definitely is. And all recent reports back from him, cryptic tweets late at night, threats of self harm, hardly seem to indicate he will come back anytime soon.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Tue Jun 16, 2020 4:53 pm

#7 THE HOUSEWARMING PARTY: PART 2

We are back to looking at the desiccated remains of a tourtierre. It will be the symbol of tonights celebration. Hunks of pastry and globs of hardened ground beef seem as if they have been grabbed at by hungry or angry hands. Through the miracle of time lapse photography, it will slowly begin to disappear from the plate, one piece at a time. The tourtierre is now marking the passage of time. Surely this party is really under way now.

A wine glass is held in the air. Vivaldi is playing loudly in the kitchen on a clock radio. "Cheers', cries The City Slicker, bringing the glass to his mouth and pretending to drink. He crosses his arms, the stem of the plastic wine glass gently clasped between his fingers, looking around at the party that is unfolding around him. A smug smile passes across his lips. He is still wearing his Benneton jacket, even though he has been presumably indoors now for hours.

The Hillbilly is sitting at the kitchen table, wobbling back in forth behind a bottle of wine. Since the Assistant Director is unsure where Hillbillies actually work, he is drunkenly moaning about the state of his corporation. Investors and share holders are mentioned in a slurry, Southern-debutante snarl. He pours himself another glass, wobbles a little more, and then begins to struggle as he can't get the cork back in. This moment of drunken frustration allows him to tap into memories of a public service commercial that aired in Canada during the 80's for acting inspiration. The ad was supposedly meant to warn children of drunk fathers, and to never bother them with their toy fixing problems. It was beyond the capabilities of their whiskey dumb fingers. Just like the father in this commercial,The Hillbilly contorts his face and he screams as the cork resists all of his persuasive methods of pushing it back into the neck. He collapses into tears, moaning for his children to leave him alone. The camera will cut from him during this tragic moment. This hillbilly sadness is meant to haunt the viewer. The call back to this government of Ontario ad, is sure to register with no one.

We will now be introduced to another party goer. The Pill Popper will be played by the Director. To indicate this is a woman he is playing, he has threaded the bottom of his T-Shirt through his collar and pulled it down as far as he can to create a make shift bikini. Sexy! Voluptuous! Nude scenes are prayed for. While his hair is appropriately girl long, it is definitely not girl clean or combed. He stands slumped in the middle of the kitchen floor, staring blearily up at the ceiling. In his hand he clenches an economy sized jar of Aspirins which he will feign taking taking handfuls of. You know it's a party when attendees are enthusiastically fending off headaches, or miming suicide.

"Oooh that's the ticket", he squeaks in a high pitched voice. Apparently the effects of the Aspirins have already hit him in the pleasure centre.

The scene thankfully cuts to black where we no longer have to look at The Directors attempt at cleavage. In the blackness there is the sound of heavy breathing. We don't know where we are, but if the camera had an infrared lens, we would likely be looking at those hilariously irreverent Wacky Packages the director has stuck all along the inside of his closet. Crust Toothpaste. Killy Putty. Hawaiian Punks. Lumps Diapers. Classic hilarity!

Slowly, the door opens, and we are observing from the ominous point of view of someone (or something!) who has been apparently standing around in the closet all of this time. Whatever this apparition is, it slowly wanders down the upstairs hallway towards the staircase. The Director scratches the walls with his fingernails as he walks, since he thinks this will be a terrifying sound. He was once accosted by a ghost of his own earlier this year, and that was what the ghost did all throughout the house as he slept. He feels it is good filmmaking to improvise this real life detail into the fiction of his movie. He only hopes that his films appropriation of this supernatural event will not also eventually reveal the ghost to be his Uncle Gordy. Uncle Gordy is not really frightening, after all. At least not unless one happens to be work at a pizzeria and he wanders behind the counter to hurry his Panzerotti progress along. Then you might want to quickly put up your fists to combat that particular brand of terror.

This is not that kind of movie though.

The POV shot slowly continues down the stairs. Glides down the banister. There is more scratching and more heavy breathing. Once it gets to the final step it moves towards the kitchen. The sound of Vivaldi is still suitably cranked as a party reveller dances past the camera, unaware she is being watched. This will be Hair Girl. She will be played by the Assistant Director, who has tucked his jeans into his socks and put a sweater on his head to act as the long, beautiful locks he can play with as he sashays past the doorway.

It is clear the AD misses having hair, as his has already begun to prematurely thin, regardless of all of the mayonnaise he fruitlessly and frantically massages into it daily. But in this moment of unparalleled joy, he is clearly revelling in the experience of being this follically enhanced character. So much so that the moment he moves off camera, he quickly reappears to dance back in the other direction, swinging the sweater back and forth on his head seductively. He has seen such moves seduce all sorts of leading men in the past. As he giggles with excitement, he becomes a little too Flashdance for everyones taste. An over enthusiastic dance moves becomes too much for the elastic in the collar to keep hold and his hair flies cleanly off the top of his head and off screen. Humiliated he scrambles into the kitchen to retrieve it. The unknown figure approaching can't help but ominously titter away behind the camera as it moves closer to watch Hair Girl try to reaffix her wig. She is clearly emotionally overwhelmed at having the truth of her balding scalp exposed so shockingly. She starts screaming, as she tries to figure out how to put it back on.

The horror has only begun.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Tue Jun 16, 2020 4:59 pm

My Actors Learn Their Craft From the Best Commercials

User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Thu Jun 18, 2020 6:58 pm

#8 THE SLEEPING RITUALS OF A HILLBILLY

The party has abruptly ended. We will not be given any scene where we watch the revellers dispersing or even being asked to leave because they have overstayed their welcome. In fact, we may as well just assume everyone has been invited to stay the night because The Hillbilly is now sitting alone on a couch in a dark room, looking as if he is preparing for sleep on this makeshift bed.

Striking a match, he lights a candle. But before he leans back and sits morosely in this candlelight, he performs some kind of ritual with the now burnt out match, twirling it around the wick, creating rings of smoke that he can lean lean forward into, bathing his face in the candle scent. It is the kind of flourish that could maybe be expected as a precursor to a black magic ritual at some teenage girls slumber party. Not exactly what one expects to open a Hillbilly monologue that will detail such serious topics as grief, midlife anxiety, and naturally, who in his family is going to take over his corporation once he retires. Your standard Hillbilly problems.

"What a life I've had, what a life I've lived", he begins, his accent now moving well past any melodrama that could be found in an episode of Designing Women, and into what can only be assumed is Debra Winger's hospital bed speech in Terms of Endearment. "My wife? She left me. My children? They don't want to join in my business", he cries as he puts his face into his hands. "I just don't know what to doooooou!!!"

It is clear by his delivery that he would like to wail this line loudly enough that he could wake Tennessee Williams up from the dead. But unfortunately the inner spirtual/sexual tumult of the Hillbilly has been stifled beforehand by orders from The Grandparents. As they begrudgingly vacated this room to allow the film to do a few shots on this couch they have been selfishly hogging all night, they made it clear the two of them will need to be quiet with this movie nonsense going forward. They are both going to sleep. Now that Rain Man was over, they supposed there was nothing else for them to look forward to anyways. But goddamned if they were going to have a good night of rest interrupted. That was up to the Grandfathers snoring to do. So keep it quiet! As a result of this warning, the drama of this moment is noticeably muted as we listen to the Hillbilly whisper-scream his passions into the palms of his fluttering hands. The corpse of Tennessee Williams will hardly notice.

As the Hillbilly dissolves into histrionics, a POV shot of the killer begins to creep into the darkened room. It moves toward where The Hillbilly sits Southern Drawling to himself.
The Hillbilly looks up, seemingly noticing something in the shadows coming towards him.

"Who's there", he asks, holding the candle out in front of him, squinting his eyes so as to see. The flame of the candle flutters with dramatic approval. It crates a prismatic effect of light upon the lens.

"Remember me?", a voice whispers from the darkness.

"Who's there", he calls out again and then, because the Assistant Director is apparently unaware of how light is necessary for a film shoot, he unexpectedly blows out the candle and only light source in the room. This is so he can presumably go and hide somewhere from the director's wrath as everything turns black. In the depths of this darkness, the Director is forced to call cut to the scene.

When the film comes back on, the candle is miraculously relit. The Hillbilly holds it in front of his peering face. It can be seen from the look in the Assistant Directors eyes some kind of scolding or dressing down has happened. There are all sorts of words the Director has likely called him as they fixed the AD's mistake by having to go find another match, which was surprisingly difficult to do in a house of smokers. Ultimately, it all works out for the best though. This terror glaze in his eyes adds to the appearance of fear we'll witness in the acting of the hillbilly as he looks out at what moves in the shadows. He is possibly staring out at some metaphor for the wreckage of his life. Or possibly just at some dumb slasher villain. Feel free to fill in whatever works best for you here. It is clear that nothing really matters except whatever entertainment can be wrung from their imaginary audience.

"Who's there?". The Hillbilly repeats, yet again.

"It's your wife", the voice says, "I've come back"

"Harriet?" The Hillbilly squeals. "Is that you? Oh, I missed you soooooo". He collapses face first into the couch, emotion overcoming him after having finally been united with Harriet, his wife, who left him, with two ungrateful non-corporate brats, and who has now shown up to take him back as he prepares to tuck in for the night on his neighbours couch. This is scriptwriting 101 here.

"Yessss. It's your wife. Turn on the light. Look at me", the voice commands in a whisper. "I want you to see me"

The Hillbilly looks up from his cry. "Wha?" he says staring dumbly into space. It is unclear if this is a question that his character has decided needs to be answered by his long missing wife, or if the AD is just confused at what he is supposed to do next. It's almost like there is absolutely no script to go by, and they are just making up every moment of this as they go along.

"The light! Turn it on. Look at me!!". The hissing of the stranger has become more urgent.

With great trepidation, The Hillbilly begins to reach towards a large lamp that sits on the table next to him. As he hits the switch everything turns a gauzy yellow as the camera seems to nearly recoil from the flare of sudden illumination, The Hillbilly turns sharply to look at what is sitting in front of him, already gasping from shock. What he sees causes him to cover his face and collapse to the floor in a scream. Or at least another whisper scream, which he muffles into his hands. He needs to keep grandparents from waking up and shuffling down here in their slippers to shut down the whole production for the night.

And then, nothing.....

Immediately following the suspense that has been meticulously built throughout this scene, it appears the camera will be accidentally turned on between shots as it rests on a table, and we are now watching the Director and his Assistant argue. We are specifically looking at the knees of the AD as he sits on the couch, refusing to do what is required in the next scene. The director sounds exasperated. He believed it was obvious stunt work was going to be necessary for everyone involved. This is high stakes filmmaking after all, a few bruises should be expected to be taken for the team. But the AD is unsurprising in his resolute stance that it isn't his problem if they don't get the shot. "I don't care. I didn't agree to any of this. This is stupid".

The Director has known from the day he first met the AD in Kindergarten that he should never be trusted with his artistic temperment. He is from an imaginary corporate world, where the Director is from an equally imaginary artistic one. Why are they still friends, anyways? How has this relationship not crumbled by now? Why did that silent treatment they had been giving each other for a few weeks during grade 2 recess' ever have to end? Why had he ever been so lily livered to call off that assassination attempt in grade four? The ninja had already climbed the tree with a pair of pruning shears, after all. So much planning, gone to waste. But now here he is, on their first films shoot, somehow still friends. Making the worst movie of all time.

He is angry and feels like a fool as he prepares to step in as the Hillbilly's body double in the next scene.

Clearly the audience will not be able to tell the difference between the two of them. Balding, delicate and well dressed is about to be seamlessly replaced with a mound of sneering, long-haired hippy filth. And so without explanation as the movie returns, we will be presented a close up of the Directors face staring off screen. Those watching will surely wonder what is the Party Animal doing here in this scene. But before it is possible to even process what is happening on screen, or why a character has seemingly changed into another character, we will watch as the Director forceably shoves a candle deep down into his own throat. There is the pronounced sound of gagging before the film cuts to black.

"Gluck"

Off screen, shooting will be delayed. Production has been brought to a standstill until the Director is able to cough up all the scalding candlewax that has run down his throat and congealed into the exact shape of his esophogal lining. Fragments of this will one day be sold on eBay for 20 dollars a hork.

The Assistant Director remains happy about his decision to this very day.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Wed Jun 24, 2020 10:02 pm

#9 THE SLEEPOVER CONTINUES

The Pill Popper is looking frantic as she sits in front of the television, watching, eyes wide. Her forehead looks particularly greasy during this close up and her make shift bikini top has come undone. This is not to titillate as one might suspect, but only because The Director can't fathom watching another play back with him dressed like that. Now, without this signature piece to identify what character this is, all we have is the steady stream of Aspirins she keeps pushing through her gently pursed lips to recognize her as the Pill Popper.

This is drug addiction as imagined by someone who has thus far only gobbled Pez in desperation.

As much as she self medicates though, her aspirins seem to be doing little to quell the anxiety she feels while watching The Hell of the Living Dead, which we can hear playing in the background. We will cut to the television a few times to see what about this movie is causing such distress. Mostly it is washed out newsreel footage of various animals doing various jungle things. Monkeys screaming at trees. Tigers pounding at now consumed nature photographers. Hardly anything seems to be happening to the actors who sit around in jeeps, looking at maps, and so it is difficult for The Director to randomly cut to anything that seems appropriate to the expression The Pill Popper is giving as she watches. Eventually though he lucks out, and gets a tasty image of someones shoulder being bitten off by a zombie. On cue, The Pill Popper rolls off the couch she is sitting on and spits out a mouthful of home made vomit onto the carpet.

As she recovers, and crawls back up onto the couch, she gives the motion to cut by running her finger across her neck. She keeps doing this until the Assistant Director realizes it isn't just a threat he is receiving.

The next shot will cut to a wide angle of the entire room The Pill Popper sits in by herself. It is brightly lit, so we can easily make out all of the mismatched furniture and the stone fireplace blackened with years of Christmas ash. There is a terrible painting of flowers above the couch which our next victim is curled up upon. To give the illusion of a threat looming off camera, the AD begins stomping his feet as he films her, making noises that indicate she is not alone. Her dazed and disoriented look will be replaced with one of panic, and she quickly hobbles over to the other side of the room, giving us a good look at how tight her jeans are. They are impeding her graceful movements across the family room carpet.

For protection she grabs a large knitted afghan from a drawer. This will be for hiding under. Then she grabs a brass candlestick, which will be her mode of defence. Clearly this one was not cut out for Thunderdome. As she runs back to where she came from, the AD will now be shooting her retreat back to the couch from above, while standing on top of a rickety table. He has been ordered to climb up here by the director even though he thought it was unsafe. At least not very healthy for the table, which is old and made of splintered planks. The director insists though, hoping the sound of it creaking and nearly buckling beneath his AD's shifting weight will add a distinct ambience to the flight of the Pill Popper, as she scurries beneath her blanket, cradling the candlestick to her heaving breast.

Crickety-crack goes the antique coffee table. There is relief when it doesn't break in two. There was already enough to explain with all that fake barf on the carpet yet to be cleaned up.

Meanwhile, while our character cowers, frightened for her life, we will bear witness to a cast iron poker which is for some reason sitting unattended in a hallway. It is a bad omen to be sure. There it sits, leaning casually against the wall, beneath a spooky painting of a woman in a billowing white dress, her long, gaunt face and thinning blonde hair framing an expression of complete sociopathy. It is an unwelcoming painting for anyone who looks upon it and ideal for a horror film. The Director has been frightened of it for years, as he has also been of many of the other faces that adorn the walls. He has been surrounded by portraits and photographs of all sorts of strangers his entire life, women and children whose names no one knows, watching him from their picture hooks, listening in on his family secrets. But because this particular painting has always seemed to be the mother of them all, he has specifically chosen it for this scene. And as a hand reaches into the frame to grasp the cold, twisted metal of the poker, the eyes of the woman in the painting seem almost happy to bear witness to the coming crime.

The camera zooms closer to the recoiling Pill Popper. The poker is lifted menacingly and is pointed towards the camera. A high pitched scream cuts through the air. A murder is about to occur.

Unlike the previous debacle where The Hillbilly was replaced by an unconvincing stunt double during his death, this particular scene has been already been pre-planned by the director and so he assumes will go perfectly. Earlier today, he found an identical shirt to what the Pill Popper was wearing and he has stuffed it full of balled up newspapers. He has also marked a spot on the stuffed shirt where the poker must first strike. Beneath this he has plastic lunch wrapped a pouch of red paint that will explode on contact. As the poker is lifted into the air, and the camera stares up at its gleaming point, The Director feels some anxiety about doing everything exactly right. This effect can only be done once, after all. There is only one shirt to spare. It has to be perfect!

The director, playing the role of the unknown and mysterious killer, does his very best to aim where the end of the poker will need to hit as he drives this merciless spike of iron down into vulnerable flesh. He knows he will need to hit the exact mark for the shot to work and he is relieved when it strikes gold. Upon impact, a great gush of red paint splashes up through the hole he has pre-cut in the T-Shirt. It works even better than he had imagined, and in his enthusiasm, he begins to bring the poker down over and over again, murdering the Pill Popper real good.

The AD, meanwhile, has missed everything. He has not filmed the image of the poker entering the body of its victim, or any of this beautifully rendered blood spurt in a glorious close up as one imagines he should have. Rather, he has shot this scene from a distance, instead capturing every balled up piece of newsprint that has been knocked out from the assaulted shirt with each blow of the weapon. The Director is oblivious of what the audience can see though and, carried away with the excitement of how wonderful he imagines this shoot to be going, he continues to knock this unfortunate article of clothing all about the couch. He stabs and stabs and stabs, the crumpled pieces of that days news being torn to pieces as the camera zooms back even further, coming to focus on the individual who is committing this strange and unidentifiable act.

We will see the figure of a man, lost in the frenzy of a murder. In one hand he will be clutching the weapon he brings down upon his victim over and over again. In his other hand, he will holding onto the collar of his shirt, which he has pulled up and over his head in order to keep the identity of the Killer a mystery for the viewer. As this cloaked villain commits more and more indecent acts upon this pile of paint spattered cotton and newsprint, we will thankfully not see the face of this deviant. His head will be entirely turtled inside the V-Neck of his t-shirt as he flails away, exhausting himself in the enthusiasm of suspecting that he's about to become next Rick Baker.

That was some serious blood spurt after all. A blood spurt lost to the ages.

It will be in the middle of this violence that the sound of a doorbell in the darkness will ring out. It will disrupt the final shots we have of the poker being driven down repeatedly as the score of Hell of the Living Dead plays in the background. It will also disrupt the dog upstairs, who begins to bark, and can be heard through the rest of the scene.

We are now in the front hallway and it is dark. We hear the clatter of the front door open and someone wandering into the house, bumping into walls, muttering to himself

"Ooooo, hey", we hear a voice in the dark as it wanders towards the scene of the most recent killing. "Whoah, hey". Eventually the figure will come into the light. Wearing sunglasses and pretending to puff on a stubbed out cigarette that he holds coolly between his fingers, we are looking at an emotionally dismayed Andrew Dice Clay. Hot off of his controversial appearance on Saturday Night Live, he is now making a cameo appearance in Rambling Man. There will be no Sinead O Connor to protest his act here. The Assistant Director is permitted to play him with any moronic flourish he so desires.

Lifting the sunglasses from his head, Andrew Dice Clay now surveys the damage he finds in the murder scene and pouts. After and a few calculated drags on his cigarette he will comment with a wince, the immortally awful line: "Oooooooo. Too bad...she was a cute hairy chick"

Once the camera is turned off, The Director is unsure what this was all about, or what exactly was so cute or hairy about him. He doesn't know Andrew Dice Clay, and maybe he would ask, but since it is late, and this shot makes it is wrap for the night, he doesn't bother. He just wants the Assistant Director to go home before his grandparents came down.

The dog is still barking, he can hear footsteps coming and all sorts of bodily fluids are sure to be found ground into the carpet and cushions of the couch.
User avatar
Rock
Posts: 2444
Joined: Wed Aug 21, 2013 12:48 am
Location: From beyond the moon

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by Rock » Thu Jun 25, 2020 4:58 am

Maybe I should finish Hell of the Living Dead one of these days.
"We're outgunned and undermanned. But you know somethin'? We're gonna win. You know why? Superior attitude. Superior state of mind." - Mason Storm
____
Blog!
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Thu Jun 25, 2020 12:42 pm

Rock wrote:
Thu Jun 25, 2020 4:58 am
Maybe I should finish Hell of the Living Dead one of these days.
It's not...the worst? Maybe.

It has some very brief moments that I think work. But they are very brief. And there is some funny bad stuff. But only....some?

The rest is boring shit, newsreel footage, and if I remember correctly, lots of racism. Im pretty sure there is one scene where a white woman fools an amazonian tribe that she is one of them by walking around topless. Because showing tit is how they greet eachother or something.

It's possible I'm remembering that incorrectly but I don't think so.

For some reason I was drawn to the film when I was young though. Let's say it was an early example of the kind of fill garbage I would grow to champion. At the time though I was just less....sophisticated about it?

*Insert picture of Killing of a Chinese Bookies Mr. Sophistication here*
User avatar
Rock
Posts: 2444
Joined: Wed Aug 21, 2013 12:48 am
Location: From beyond the moon

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by Rock » Thu Jun 25, 2020 1:40 pm

I remember that scene and I think you are describing it correctly.
"We're outgunned and undermanned. But you know somethin'? We're gonna win. You know why? Superior attitude. Superior state of mind." - Mason Storm
____
Blog!
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Thu Jun 25, 2020 3:12 pm

Rock wrote:
Thu Jun 25, 2020 1:40 pm
I remember that scene and I think you are describing it correctly.
At least when it comes to its progressive politics Rambling Man > Hell of the Living Dead. Finally a battle it can win!

I'm proud to declare that racial diversity was definitely on our minds during production. I can now distinctly recall in the opening credits there was a Vietnamese actor I had listed as being cast, along with all of the Johnny Milquetoasts' and Bradley Stiffpants' and other names I completely made up when scribbling down dumb actor names. I'm pretty sure those were the days where every movie had to at least peripherally address the Vietnam War, and man, I was clearly on board with that brave casting choice. I definitely hope everyone has been picking up on the subtle political subtext I have woven into the narrative of my film. If not, I clearly have failed at my job as an anti Imperialist artist, striking blows against the man and praying for the system to crumble into ashes.

Now, just because this fictitious actor (who I will not name....um...just because) never actually appears in any scenes should not count against me. It's the thought that counts, after all.

But, talking strictly in terms of quality filmmaking, Hell of the Living Dead is still clearly the superior film. I can't possibly take that victory away from it.

So, in short, HofLD should not be on anyones movie bucket list. And Rambling Man is better off remembered in shame instead of actually existing.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Sat Jun 27, 2020 1:33 pm

Assistant Director is renting a car and coming to pay a visit to me up on this mountain I now reside upon.

I had hoped he might wish to fill in the gaps in my memory or do a cursory fact check (after I had already assured him everything written was 100 percent accurate and so not actually necessary).

His interest in a proof read immediately dissipated when I explained the document is now 15 plus pages. He is not much of a reader. Some things never change.
User avatar
crumbsroom
Posts: 3429
Joined: Sat Nov 25, 2017 3:15 am

Re: RAMBLING MAN by crumbsroom: 30th ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA

Post by crumbsroom » Sat Jun 27, 2020 10:16 pm

Moments before the Assistant director arrives at my mountaintop hideaway, a tick has been discovered engorged on the back of our poor beleaguered director.

The coincidences mount. Death by Lyme Disease seems to be the final destination of this tragic story. And all I wanted to do is tell my tale.
Post Reply