so this semester I’m doing pre-production for my short film and I’m having TROUBLE deciding between three different ideas. Help me choose?? The short will have to be 60-90 sec and I’m probably not going to do dialogue
Idea 1: Underestimated intern at a paleontological dig is cataloguing a nest of fossilized eggs when one unexpectedly hatches. She has to get her oblivious supervisor’s attention while trying to keep the little gremlin baby dinosaur from running off and wreaking havoc.
Idea 2: Bigfoot is a severe agoraphobe and hates having her picture taken, but secretly dreams of being a famous model. A crafty cryptozoologist figures this out and schemes to lure her to a fake “photoshoot” so he can finally get quality proof of Bigfoot. She shows up, but in heavy disguise…
Idea 3: Tiny alien accidentally crashes in the New Mexico desert next to the highway, miles away from the nearest town. To get his ship up and running, he has to get a ride to town. When he fails at hitchhiking, he approaches the rough, seedy biker bar across the street and gets more than he bargained for. One of the bikers is an alien conspiracy theorist who tricks the alien into taking him back to his ship.
These are rough concept sketches - whichever one I choose will be developed over the course of this semester
I have always had a flirtatious interest in the ever morphing American dream, from The Great Gatsby to Fear and Loathing, from the chickens and picket fences of the 50s to the foreign adventures and many attempts to bring democracy to ourselves and others. Every age of America reinvents and transforms the dream and thereby some part of the national soul. But sitting in Old San Juan in a tropical rain, trying to keep mosquitos off my ankles, I began to think no iteration was quite as vile as this one. Despite all the greed and hatred of the past iterations, no version of the dream had been so mechanical — so dehumanizing — as this dream of productivity.
We dream now of making Every Moment Count, of achieving flow and never leaving, creating one project that must be better than the last, of working harder and smarter. We multitask, we update, and we conflate status with long hours worked in no paid overtime systems for the nebulous and fantastic status of being Too Important to have Time to Ourselves, time to waste. But this incarnation of the American dream is all about doing, and nothing about doing anything good, or even thinking about what one was doing beyond how to do more of it more efficiently. It was not even the surrenders to hedonism and debauchery or greed our literary dreams have recorded before. It is a surrender to nothing, to a nothingness of lived accounting.
This moment’s goal of productivity, with its all-consuming practice and unattainable horizon, is perfect for our current corporate world. Productivity never asks what it builds, just how much of it can be piled up before we leave or die. It is irrelevant to pleasure. It’s agnostic about the fate of humanity. It’s not even selfish, because production negates the self. Self can only be a denominator, holding up a dividing bar like a caryatid trying to hold up a stone roof.
Jerome Bixby’s original script for “Day of the Dove” ended with the Enterprise and Klingon crews singing songs and staging a peace march to rid themselves of the alien invader. The production staff told the writer that such histrionics were unnecessary to sell the finale.