A Relic from the Past?
Posted by kjohnson1585 in Television, Uncategorized, Writing on January 10, 2010
I spent my evening watching Gallagher last night.
I would never waste an iota of my time watching some aged prop comedian do nothing but smash watermelons and “pies” for an hour – at least, under normal circumstances. But then, I read this fantastically insane interview from the AVClub, an incredibly eye-opening revelation on the mind of this played-out comedian: by which I mean I never would have thought that the one-note version of Carrot Top would have such strong, angry and utterly senile point of view. (While the inability to understand why comedians bring water on stage is pretty astounding, his complete incomprehension of the advantages of home-team games is my favorite part.) Please read it; you won’t regret it.
Gallagher, I suddenly realized, is essentially Peter Finch from Network without a producer crazy enough to give him a show. And a hammer. Suddenly, my mind started reeling: you mean to tell me that his “comedy” “routine” contains MORE than smashing shit with a hammer? I had to go and figure out what else goes on during one of his shows, something he would describe as “performance” “art”.
The Stone Pony in Asbury Park is a fairly crappy venue, a club of all-black walls and local rock bands that hosts mostly that older crowd that still thinks they’re Forever Young. As I entered and paid for my ticket, I asked the lady manning the both how the sales were that night. “Pretty good,” she said. “We have about three hundred people.” Huh. Scanning the crowd, I certainly didn’t see about “three hundred” people. Maybe one hundred and fifty. Maybe the staff bought more tickets to make Gallagher feel good? I have no idea.
For someone harping on his professionalism, he started thirty minutes late. He came on stage and, god help me, I had no idea what was happening. He began by throwing Hershey Kisses at the crowd, and somehow tied it to finding cocaine. He mentioned how he wouldn’t want to be president because “they examine your life too closely”. He’d like to be a king or ruler, though; but wants everyone to think for themselves, since anything else would be communism.
Gallagher has absolutely no concept of irony; or, at the very least, no idea how hypocritically asinine he sounds. He has does have a routine, which begins comparing kids that wear sagging pants to prisoners (he actually compares a lot of people to prisoners). He has issues with, uh, telephone poles on roads, and words that end in vowels. Words have too many meanings! Mexicans haven’t changes their language over time! (I assume he means Spanish, and yes, yes it has changed over time).
His jokes are terrible, mainly because they’re wrong. I don’t mean offensive, but incorrect. The audience cheered with mediocre enthusiasm – that overweight, pro-family-values “tea-bagger” crowd (no black people, save for the two woman that worked there) . No one laughed, per se, but mostly agreed with him. Someone next to me was on the phone and mentioned how “funny” Gallagher was, but he never actually laughed at him. Comedy, these days, is about agreeing with your audience. Gallagher actually admits this.
He then starts to ramble, literally just a number of nonsensical “observations,” which actually did make me laugh. He sounded like Grandpa on The Simpsons; one gold rant had him complaining about Northface backpacks, and why they didn’t call it Southface, because they wouldn’t climb in the South. Or something. It was bizarre.
Two particular moments stand out. One: he called a few ladies on stage and had them wear boxers with holes cut out the crotch for shirts. One of them, a “dancer” named Sugar, was forced to hula hoop on a table.
Best picture I took of the night. (Click to see larger.)
This led to some dude who looked like Super Mario with a cigar to hit on her for some after-club activities. She was quite drunk, and he and the gal starting talking really loud, which got the audience pissed. I was disappointed that a fight didn’t break out.
The second, more disturbing part was when a father forced his seven year-old kid onto the stage for a Gallagher bit, which consisted of eating Pepto-Bismol-covered dog food and spam. Gallagher proceeds to berate the kid, who clearly is nervous and utterly embarrassed. It was probably the most awkward thing I’ve ever seen, made even more awkward when Gallagher called his father on stage. Come to find out, he was actually his STEPfather (Gallagher to kid: “you’re gonna get divorced when you grow up!”), and when he refused to take his son’s place to eat the shit, made the kid do it. He at least got to spit it up, but then Gallagher threw soda in his face. The stepfather just laughed.
I’m pretty sure that’s enough evidence to call DYFS.
By this time, two bloody hours went by, and the audience mistook their exasperation and annoyance for general fatigue (Gallagher kept comparing his will to Springsteen). And so came the pies and the cakes and the watermelon, and he smashed them one after the other, to the delight of the crowd, and it was at this point I realized something.
His smashing act is the penultimate act of a terrible, horrendous routine of nonsense. A character clearly in need of medication and bed rest is left to scream and yell (and cough and almost pass out on stage) until the crowd gets annoyed of the shit. Then he smashes food, both to, uh, wake up the crowd AND let loose the last bastions of his unrepentant anger; I swear it looked like he was about to cry as he kept swinging his hammer, and for a moment, I kinda felt bad for this guy, a figure that clearly is stuck in his non-existent America, happy to cater to his ignorant fan-base, mistaking comedic adaptation with stupid conformity. I wanted to ask about his issues with water, but I no longer had the heart. Like so many bigoted Archie Bunkers, I thought it better to let it go.
Plus, I needed to get the hell out of there.
“You fight stupidity with stupidity,” Gallagher said. That pretty much sums up the act.
My Writing Quest: Part 1 of a Billion
Posted by kjohnson1585 in Film, Video Games, Writing on January 6, 2010
I will start providing more information concerning my developing writing career. The HORROR.
I recently began a much-stronger push to develop my writing. I guess you could call it my 2010 Resolution, although I resolved to do it pretty much last summer when I started this blog. I got a few fun gigs – I write this one, I write for Destructoid’s Community Blogs, and I’ve been pegged to write for a brand new video game site, Damnlag. (It’s still being coded, so it’s not quite ready yet.) I am also doing reviews for Wildsound Filmmaking, an atrociously designed website that, at the very least, allows me to watch some classic horror films (and pays). Some rock (The Fly), some do not (The Black Scorpion). I’m putting together a portfolio and even made some business cards.
Also, screenplays are in the works. I suppose I should tell you what I have: technically, I have three full-length features “done”. Two I had to do in college (and I probably won’t touch them ever again), and one I recently did for Coverage Ink (more on that in a second). I also have written two full-length fan-scripts based on some video game properties. Why? Two reasons: one, I wanted to test my abilities at adaptations, and even though they won’t sell, it still pushes my skillset as a writer. Two, I wanted to see if it was really that hard and complex to scribe a decent screenplay from a game. (Conclusion: It is, but it helps being a fan of the game as well as understanding the nuances of storytelling. Also, taking the time to think about it.) That’s 5 nearly-120 pages scripts. Huh.
In addition, I wrote six episodes of an animated sitcom. Now, animated shows aren’t usually written so much as the ideas are tossed around until they’re defined enough for storyboarding. But some sources seem to suggest that the teleplay for cartoons are becoming more and more necessary. Given that this show is more attuned to Futurama (I’m actually pitching it as Johnny Bravo meets Futurama), it’s more about character-humor than the other types, although I do use a number of physical, timing, word, and cutaway gags. I wanna commission some concept art soon.
(An aside: one of my biggest revelations was how much I adore the animated/video game-y stories, with huge, creative worlds, wacky characters, and practically limitless borders. Once I got away from ideas of people doing stuff that people do, it really improved my drive and makes writing what it should always be: fun. I’d love to be able to write something with the heart of a Pixar film, but if only make it to the level of a high-valued Dreamworks film, hell, I’d take it. THIS site really solidified my drive.)
As for Coverage Ink: in the summer, I entered a contest called the CSOpen, a three-week adventure where you had to write 5-page scenes based on premises that were provided for you. The trick was, each round had a shortened time-frame. I made it to the final round, but failed to put together a decent submission with the required 3 hours. Yet, my second submission was really good, and I ended up pushing it out into a full length. Coverage Ink, the sponsor of the CSOpen, offered coverage service at a discount, so I went ahead and submitted it, JUST to see where it and I stack against the competition. I have a bit of faith in how it turned out, but I have to expect a PASS just to maintain some realism. I’ll know the results this weekend. I’m nervous as hell.
We will see. I’ll be heading out to LA for a week, getting a taste of the town and perhaps a bit of networking? We’ll see what happens.
CHILDHOOD REVISITED – A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS
Posted by kjohnson1585 in Uncategorized on December 28, 2009
1965 version of "It's on."
A Charlie Brown Christmas – (1965)
Director: Bill Melendez
Starring: Peter Robbins, Tracy Stratford, Christopher Shea
Screenplay by: Charles Schulz
Time to end 2009 with a bit of controversy: I think Charles Schulz’ Peanuts is a better comic than Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes. Don’t get me wrong, both are excellent, iconic strips that defined sense of the human condition through the eyes of surprisingly cognizant children. Calvin, however, seemed more aggressive in dealing with the hardships and realities of the world, able to cope via his imaginary stuffed animal, made-up sports, and exaggerated snowmen. Peanuts had no such outlet. Life sucked, and the children dealt with it.
I think Watterson’s reputation is hinged partially on his isolation and his unwillingness to allow his characters to be marketed or “sold out”. Admirable, certainly, but I believe that if something stands the test of time, no amount of toys, dolls, TV programs, shot glasses, and pillowcases will in no way diminish the impact of the icon (see: the early Simpsons). Besides, it’s not exactly easy to market Peanuts. Other than Snoopy (and maybe Woodstock), you’re not really making dolls of the Peanuts cast. Items derived from the comic are manifested through representing idyllic scenes; calendars, snow globes and posters. You’re not giving a child a stuffed version of a bald, wishy-washy child. (They do make them, I doubt they sell too well.)
More pro-Peanuts later in the piece.
NOSTALGIC LENS: Somehow, Peanuts had always appealed to me, whether it was this special, You’re a Good Man, Snoopy Comes Home, or the weekly strips in my local newspaper. While I wasn’t too much into the educational/religious aspects, I did adore watching Chuck try so hard to just enjoy life, but to have crap happen at every turn. Surprisingly, he still is adamantly perseverant, and perhaps that what made him so appealing to me.
DOES IT HOLD UP: I always imagine the theme of Peanuts to be a rigid determination to stand up against the constant pressures of realities that falls upon even the most innocent members of society. Simply put: “Life fucking sucks, even for children – but fuck it.”
The comics exemplify this the most. The cartoons seem oddly askew to the newspaper strip, however; it’s like comparing Richard Pryor’s stand-up to his film roles. Sure, you can see the similarities, but the material is just an odd shade of the original content. The cartoons tend to be comic series designed in animated form, and for the movies and specials, they still maintain the four-panel style in delivery (bit, bit, bit, PUNCHLINE), but, somehow, have a innate beauty to them, a real sense of melancholy and splendor that pervades the awkward timing and continuity of the actual program.
A Charlie Brown Christmas, the first animated Peanuts show released, showcases all this; its positives (vaguely dark and esoteric humor, intriguing direction by Melendez, a beautiful score by Vince Guaraldi) and its negatives (terrible segues, incomprehensible elements to the story, weak voice work from children) combine to create a child-like sense of whimsy and innocent foray into the true meaning of Christmas.
Charlie Brown reminds me of a young Holden Caulfield. A lost soul trying to find the real meaning of the holiday among the falsities, “phonies,” and commercialization, Brown wakes up depressed for no reason as the kids around him seem more in-tuned into the Christmas spirit. He’s looking for the true meaning, but, why bother? He didn’t get any Christmas cards from anyone. His dog got a free pile of bones. He was chosen to direct the Christmas play, but he sucks at it. What is it all for, Brown wonders?
Linus, the show’s educational mouthpiece, tells us:
Even in 1965, this was ballsy. CBS executives were horrified, seeing such a blatant speech delivered in a Christmas special. Melendez tried to talk Schulz out of it, who apparently convinced him by saying “If we don’t do it, who will?” Melendez and executive producer Lee Mendelson were convinced this would be a flop. But, like a Christmas miracle, it was a hit, the speech becoming the most memorable part of the show. While today the ultra-religious element doesn’t hold up, what with the Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and other holidays celebrated at this time, the feel of the spirit, espoused in that speech, seems to resonate more than the speech itself.
I think Charlie Brown’s story around the tree is much more resonate and significant to the special’s appeal. When told to get a tree for the play, instead of a fake, metal, colored pine, Charlie Browns grabs a dying real one, a clear reflection of himself and inner troubles concerning the holiday. Of course, he’s un-mercilessly ridiculed for it, but, due to Linus’s speech, he feels that at the very least, he could save it; i.e., save “real Christmas”.
The Peanuts children may embrace the season’s commercialism, but they also have the heart and mindset to understand the season’s abstract meanings of togetherness and spirit. Schulz’s point is that Christmas’s can be both about gifts, products, and advertising (this was originally sponsored by Coca-Cola, after all), and still maintain the importance and impact of the season’s meaning. You can have your cake and eat it too.
This is why I love Schulz. You can be a sellout and still purport beauty and meaning.
IN A NUTSHELL: A Charlie Brown Christmas is as endearing as I remember it. I adore how the show’s essence takes precedent over its flaws; it’s almost like an art film where its nonsensical elements are secondary to the feeling the special exudes. Also, on the DVD, the It’s Christmastime Again, Charlie Brown special was on it. While it wasn’t nearly as rich as the 1965 show, it still was a lot of fun, with an excellently played gag with Sally and a screwed up line.
I will take the month of January off from the CHILDHOOD REVISITED feature, as I will be going on vacation and focusing on a few other writing projects. I will update with current status of how that goes. I will return to this in February, with Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory!
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