Hey Hollywood! How are ya — you always ravenous yet perpetually restricted dieting beast?!
Did you hear Germany voted in a new chancellor?
We — me and you, Hollywood — are not Germans. Our private opinions and feelings regarding the man or the vote results or both matters not at all and need not be shared publicly — regardless of how we slant, pro or con.
But just because we've no right or reason to air our opinions doesn't mean we can't pursue profit. Have you ever not pursued profit? (Seriously, have you ever abstained from the chase?)
So... if you are interested, let's talk about a snowman, shall we? Tons of potential here. I'm thinking a bunch of thematically related movies. Animated films but in the tone of those Ernest flicks from the 80s and 90s.
Consider the opportunities...
Olaf Rescues the Euro
Olaf Operates a Christkindlesmarkt
Olaf Fixes Flat Tires for Free on the Autobahn
Olaf Keeps the Borders Open but Orders Retail Outlets to Close on Sundays (except grocery stores) to Appease Cultural Traditionalists
. . .
And so. Many. More.
And if Germany starts acting up and flexing their independence or engaging in activities and unilateral discussions not in America's economic and political interests and our friends from you know where -- I won't mention these organizations by name; you know who I'm talking about: those groups that occasionally send you men and women, wearing dark sunglasses and driving black SUVs with tinted windows, to talk to you about Uncle Sam and how he needs the entertainment industry to do the right thing and remind the American people of their patriotic duty to support this or that economic subjugation or military action -- ... where was I? ... oh! ... if Germany starts acting too boldly, we can embrace Black Humor and produce a film called Reich Olaf where the lovable snowman is a cook or chef in pursuit of the perfect rice pilaf recipe or something... I don't know... it's all coming at me fast and loose... I've been up since 3AM my local time and it's about 9AM now and I have had only three cups of coffee and nothing to eat... but there's something here... I know it... can feel it my bones... and, let's be honest, y'all have made worse cinematic franchises.
So, call me, Hollywood. I'd love to write for Mousecorp; I'll work for guild minimums; not because I believe I'm worth so little but in restitution made to alleviate my guilt; ya see, the location of Walt's first animation studio is not too terribly far from where an older woman I dated while in college lived and once, during a weekend home from university, we got drunk AF on Schnapps, left her downtown apartment to shop at an herb and crystal store (she was a free-spirited Wiccan), and on the way I vomited on the sidewalk near the spot where it all began for Walt and Ub.
Anyway, this is slow pitch, like it says in the blog's title. I've told you that; been upfront about it. I hate the game (baseball too). Slow (and ridiculous) is the only speed I am willing to play it.
Slow Pitch, or When You Hate the Game But Must Play It
by Geoffrey Allison || SIXSTRINGcpa
Parodying the movie pitch and Media-Entertainment Complex: a beast arguably as culturally damaging as its sibling-monster, the Military-Industrial Complex.