Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine Volume II, Issue 15, Year AD MCMXCVII Monday, April 14th, 1997 ------------------------------------------- I finally got a day planner. All I have to do now is remember what I did the past four months. ------------------------------------------- Maybe I can make a paradox with Windows '95. Click on the "My Computer" icon and drag the garbage icon on top of the one sitting on the desktop. (jason@ifront.com) ------------------------------------------- 1. Transit Tales 2. Anatomy of a bad movie 3. Reader's Pool: results 4. Top 10 Best (Worst) Ways to Kill Wesley Crusher ------------------------------------------- This week's Golden Testicle Web Award goes to: The Goat Shrine http://www-personal.umich.edu/~rkmead/goats.html ------------------------------------------- 1. Transit Tales It seems that each time I take the TTC (Toronto Transit Commission) something happens. I was thinking of how handy this was, for it gave me something to write about inside of CoN. I should've kept my mouth shut, because thanks to the "Interesting Life Curse" I seem to have (will explain in another issue), I was stuck in the subway for 45 mins, staring at this gentleman's armpit (it had some remarkable brain damaging side effects, but that's another story as well). I was returning from the office, thinking of what to write in this issue (yes, I think. Isn't that amazing? My girlfriend might say something different about that, but hey, this will be another story as well). I'm standing by the bus stop, and I enter the bus-shelter, because its a little cold. I notice this man walking towards the bus-stop, clean shaved, well dressed, with a beer belly. He looks at me, and shouts as if I was on the other side of the street rathern then in front of him: "I can't believe how cold it is!" "Yeah.." I just say, and start looking at the end of the street to see if a bus was coming. "You know" he went on "when I used to be a kid, 15 years ago, it was much warmer than this, this time of the year". "I guess..." I said. I looked at him. He seemed a lot older to have been a kid just 15 years ago. I quickly looked elsewhere. His eyes had this psychotic feel to them that kind of scared me. "You know" he said again "this is happening because the planets are moving farther and farther away from the sun". "Yeah, well, the universe is constantly expanding, but I'm sure that pollution has something to do with it and.." I tried to explain, not even sure why I was talking, perhaps to calm myself down. "No! No! No!" he shouted "you see, the planets" and with a dime in his hand he began drawing on the glass "they are not spinning around the sun in circles, but they are using ellipses! So they are moving farther and farther apart. The Earth will become like Mars, and we'll have to take starships to fly to Venus which will be habitable again!" "Oh-.. yeah, of course" this guy forgot to eat the pudding I think. "See, the government is trying to build spaceships before this planet becomes too inhabitable, because we are moving away from the sun. That's why they are funding all this space projects, and who knows how many things they don't tell us!" I was captured by a sudden burst of rejoice when I saw the bus arriving. "So, " I dared to ask "when are we moving to Venus? No, just that I want to make sure that I have my bags ready before I do" "You wont be able to carry much" he whispered "because the government will turn everyone into their mindless army. Those bastards. They are all a bunch of assholes..!" The bus stopped and I quickly hopped on board, making sure I would find a single seat, to prevent the freak to sit near me. The schizo went to seat in the back and started torturing some poor bastard who just kept on saying "yeah..hu-humm". I guess I was wondering how it was possible that the world has people that will kill themselves over such dumb things like space ships, but I guess that after that episode, I have no more doubts: the world is a crazy place. No, I mean more then you might think. Does this mean I am normal? ------------------------------------------- 2. ANATOMY OF A BAD MOVIE by Raymond Belair (rbelair@ziplink.net) "How did that piece of crap ever get made? I could have written a better movie!" How many times have you walked out of the theater muttering these phrases? Chances are with a little work you probably could have put together a superior script, but that doesn't mean a good movie will come of it. Film, more so than any other art form, is a collaborative effort. Symphony violinists don't ad lib while performing Beethoven's 9th, nor will a Broadway director bring in a new writer to punch-up the third act of Hamlet. In Hollywood, the originator of the source material, the screenwriter, has the least amount of input into the finished product once it leaves his hands. It's been said that you can't make a good movie from a bad script, but that you can make a bad movie from a good script. Here's how. A producer is usually the first person a completed script goes to on its way to becoming a movie. Producers find strong, bankable material, get a top director and as many A-list stars to commit to it as possible, then sell this package to a studio that has the clout to green-light the project. In order to attract Mel, Demi or Scorsese in the first place, the script needs to be tailored to the target celebrity. This means re-writes, maybe by the original writer, but more often by a hired gun with a quick spell-checker. Then it needs to be molded to the needs of the studio most likely to lay out the millions needed to make a movie these days. If that studio already has a romantic alien invasion comedy just like the producer's script in development on production then there are more re-writes. The romantic alien becomes a menacing Cro-Magnon cloned from fossils by a brilliant, but lovely female scientist. It's not nearly as good as the original, but the studio loves it and buys it. Now the studio has control. They bought the rights to the script, but all they really wanted was the concept. So they bring in their own writer, and commission a complete page-one re-write. By this time Demi has dropped out, but Pfeiffer is interested - only if she can play the Neanderthal. No problem. But it's too violent, the studio needs this to get a PG-13 rating in order to get the widest possible audience. The action gets toned down and now there's a wacky miniature talking dinosaur named Squimpy as the comedic side-kick. As soon as everything is set, all the studio heads are fired and a whole new management team is brought in. The project gets shelved for a year or so, until a junior exec finds it and decides that this is the movie that will launch him into the corner office. Three drafts later, the script is now about a mad scientist/race car driver who combines his DNA with a dinosaurs and morphs into Velocity- Raptor! Scorsese is long gone (probably off making The Godfather VII), so it goes to that hot new director who made such a big splash at the Sundance festival. Now the flavor-of-the-week director has control. He's finally made it into the big time - no more independent films with budgets that barely rival most people's monthly grocery bill. But the studio has given him a truly awful script. On the other hand, they have given him an astronomical budget. He decides to do his own re-write and fix the rest while shooting. By this time the only talent available is the guy from the Old El Paso salsa commercials and the studio head's favorite daughter. Things aren't going so well during shooting, the director decides he needs more special effects and stunts to liven things up and the studio grudgingly ups the budget. It doesn't seem to be helping, but the director is confident that it can be fixed in the editing room. It can't. Now the studio has a finished product that they've invested $60 million in and isn't worth the plastic it's printed on. So what do they do? Throw more money into it! The marketing machine is fired up and media blitz is on. Awe inspiring previews show up at the theater. The buzz begins. Next, the stars show up on every talk show that will have them. "It's the best thing since Last Action Hero," they squeal, enticing audiences everywhere. Kids are barraged with ads during their most holy of times - Saturday morning cartoons - and beg their parents to take them to see Velocity-Raptor or they'll never be able to show their faces at school again. A week before the opening, the hype reaches epic proportions. ‘Raptor toys fill the stores, McDonald's beats out Burger King for the Happy Meal tie-in, and obscure reviewers who have yet to see the film are raving about it. Interest is up, but so are expectations. You dash out to the theater on opening weekend, buy your ticket and stake out a prime seat in the middle of the theater. As the opening credits flash, you notice the ‘Based on a Story By' credit and see the original writer's name listed. The film starts and your heart sinks deeper and deeper into the pit of you stomach as you watch the garbage unfolding before you. You shuffle out of the theater, cursing the moron who came up with such a stupid idea in the first place. Meanwhile, the original writer shuffles out of another theater somewhere just as depressed wondering why he even received a screen credit since not a single word, character, or concept of his appeared in the film, and regrets even being associated with such a horrific production. That's how that piece of crap got made. There are dozens of variations, but it comes down to the fact that so many people have control of the script at any given time. In many cases this collaborative process will improve a script on its way to production, with each participant applying their unique talent and contributing something of quality. But, too often, it has the opposite effect of diluting the original idea, making it overly commercial or formulaic. So the next time you get suckered into seeing a bad movie, try not to heap all the blame on the writer - it takes a lot of good people to make a bad movie. To subscribe to C I N (( E )) Z I N E write to "CineZine3@aol.com" with "SUBSCRIBE" in the subject line. There is NO cost to subscribe. We're free! ------------------------------------------- 3. Reader's Pool: results by Alessia Roettinger Ok, I have a little reader's poll: What do you all think of tongue piercing? Or piercing in general? Sexy or not? --- Poll Results: Del Piero I will admit that I used to think that any piercing outside of the ear was sick, but I've slowly come to find belly piercing sexy. Something about it just appeals to me. I was at a club recently (in San Francisco) and I couldn't help but notice that a woman I was dancing with had her belly pierced. She, naturally, was wearing and half-top to show it off, and it really got to me. Am I weird? I still think that tongue piercing is a bit much, and nose piercing never really did anything for me. --- Sandra Pereira I can't answer that on account it can and will be used against me when I'm arrested. --- Leandro Ironically I was thinking of piercing myself, especially after seeing the Hunchback of Notre Dame. God, that goat is sexy with that pierced ear, don't you think? And I wonder if Esmeralda has a pierced belly. I wouldn't want to be pierced by a philum though, I'll tell you that much. I wouldn't want to get my genitals pierced, since I travel a lot by plane. Each time I'd be checked, the metal detector would go off and I'd have to show them what is it that set it off... ------------------------------------------- 4. Top 10 Best (Worst) Ways to Kill Wesley Crusher 10 After slugging down six Shirley Temple's in 10-forward, Wes stumbles to the holodeck, which he commands to "take me to hell." His broken body is later found on the empty holodeck in a pool of vomit. 9 Wesley gets gang-raped by a group of female Klingons. 8 Riker gets carried away executing an order from Picard to "knock the little snot around a bit." 7 Data catches him tossing off. Uncomprehending, he requires a detailed explanation from Wesley, who dies of embarrassment. 6 Extensive lab analysis of a green slime found on one of the control panels uncovers the fact that our favorite ensign has, once again, been picking his nose. He is summarily fired and commits suicide. 5 Wes gets gang-raped by a group of male Klingons. 4 On an earlier episode, Wes got to kiss a girl who turned into a Chewbacca-like creature. Here, she returns, and they once again get involved. (Un)fortunately, once she gets really heated, she mutates back into a wookie and forces Wesley to be her cringing sex slave. She then tears him limb from limb and eats him. 3 In a rare episode involving characters from both ST and ST:TNG, Spock attempts a Vulcan mind-meld with Wesley. Wesley's head explodes. Spock barely survives, spending the next several days scratching himself and whining. 2 Worf notices a Romulan ship on the scanners, and sends Wesley down to clean out the photon tubes. Later, someone makes a comment about the needs of the many having outweighed the needs of the few. 1 Wes gets involved in a deviant sexual practice known as "tribble stuffing," not realizing that tribbles multiply anywhere. Even an emergency laser enema by Dr. Crusher fails to save him. -------------------------------------------