How Hollywood Decided to Reboot Classic Children's Tales
Chaz Blazer, elite Hollywood agent and sustainable parkour enthusiast, greensaulted into Geoff Chaser's office and eco-vaulted himself into a supine position on the slick, gray recliner. He held up one slender, manicured finger for silence, and Geoff obliged him. An austere young woman with a pair of Apple iGlasses, done up in trademark fascist white, stood just to Geoff's power-left (which is just to the right of a normal left). The pair waited patiently for Chaz to begin, but he did not."I'm sorry." It was the woman who broke the silence first. Geoff flinched disapprovingly as she spoke. "Were you going to say something?""Ooo, rookie movie, Sweetcakes!" Chaz chided. "Never start a conversation. Everybody who's anybody knows you only get conversed to.""Sorry," Geoff apologized on her behalf, "this is Erika; she's my new PR manager.""You need a PR manager?" Chaz asked, shifting in his seat and crossing his conspicuously bare ankles. "But you're the man behind the curtain. The great and powerful Foz or whatever."
"Pay no attention to the man in the puppet. That's how that scene went, right? Ha! I love classic cinema."
"No, I don't, actually. I thought we were having phone sex. She told me she was going to 'mobilize her assets to upmarket my vertical base,' and I finished. Then she showed up this morning with a W-9.""Shit," Chaz swore appreciatively, hiking up his pants legs. "I just finished, too.""Is it loafer season already?" Geoff asked, finally taking Chaz's baited calfskin."Socks are for bankers and accountants, Home Fries. They're like ties for your feet: Anybody who needs them to look respectable probably doesn't deserve your respect.""You are really proactively assholing today, Sugarpie. You got a move?""I got the"I'm gonna get you pregnant with my cash-babies, and then never call you again."
"It came to me last night. I was reading a bedtime story to my kid --""Utter bullshit," Geoff interjected."Of course! It's a new theme-brothel outside of Vegas. They do a whole family vibe. You give the kid a bath and read him a story, then you nail the 'wife' as quickly and quietly as you can, without smearing her Vapo-Rub. It's some sick shit, Steak Frites, I won't lie -- but I've ruined so many dreams I can't even jack off anymore unless it's to a mockery of something.""Word," Geoff conceded. "Aw, hell, but I ain't mean to digress, Honey Smacks! Where was I?" Chaz sprawled spread-eagle on the oddly textured leather recliner and caught Erika's gaze. She demurely looked away."Marketing sex and violence to toddlers," Geoff provided dutifully."Right, right. So there I was reading a kiddie book to this rented Thai orphan, and it hit me: What has tits and death and drama and special effects and is solely, successfully marketed to the lucrative K-4 demographic?""Nothing." Geoff said darkly, "God knows we've tried: Sesame Streetwalkers, Dora the Sexual Explorer, Blue's Clues Left at the Scene of a Murder/Suicide"Get it? It's totally hilarious and cool because it's a thing that not a lot of people use anymore."
"Fai-- no. No, it can't be that easy," Geoff shook his head sadly. "The sex is only ever implied; the death is always whitewashed. It has to be overt to sell. You know that, Ring Dings; you know that better than anybody. You wrote the book on aggressively appealing to the lowest common denominator.""Titpistols: The Chaz Blazer Sexogy"But you can try, and we'll accidentally make a million fucking dollars for some reason."
"We can even go the other direction: Big-budget action for the flyover states. Snow White"Girls ate this shit up, right? It really empowered them, having to strip for their freedom."
"A gritty reboot of Peter Pan," Chaz squeaked. His voice had been steadily becoming more strangled as he rifled out pitches. Now he fell silent, and simply writhed on the recliner audibly, each motion accompanied by the unique screech of Malaysian pygmy cotton grinding against fine Mediterranean eel leather."Oh. Oh no. Ohhhh, you lost me. And this desk is nowhere near satisfied," Geoff answered, looking shamefully down at his flaccid pants and frustrated office furniture. "There's been like a million of those already.""Not like this there hasn't. We're going to flip it. Peter Pan's the villain. Think about it, Mac and Cheese: He abducts kids and takes them off to 'Neverland.' And the hero? Oh, it's just plain old Captain Hook. Plain old Police"... keep the glasses on. It helps me to not respect you."
"Of course not, sirs. It's ... ah, quite frankly I think it's brilliant," she stole a fluttering glance at the sweat-soaked Chaz, slipping about on his glistening fish-leather throne. "It's just that I've been Googling these properties as you've gone along, for Precognitive SEO Blitzkrieging, and I-- I don't know how to say this ...""Don't worry, Skittles, nobody hired you for your brevity. You take as many fake words as you need to say it in the most impressive way," Geoff consoled her."It's just that ... ah ... well, your Unique IP Encapsulations have been Advance Appropriated by Prior Brand Synergists.""They've already been done?!" Chaz screeched and tried to wrestle himself upright, but finding no purchase on the him-glazed recliner, instead simply flailed in place."All of them?" Geoff's desk-engaged erection faltered, briefly resurged, but ultimately failed. "Twilight Red Riding HoodOf course they did. Of course. They did.
"Yes, sir.""Snow White in Narnia has been greenlit? What about Snow and the Seven Kung Fu Badasses?""Both in production, sir.""Cloverfield and the Beanstalk is taken? Surely nobody's got a division on Hansel and Gretel: Bounty Hunters? Honestly, that one struck even me as kind of stupid ...""Existing projects, sir. As is Slutty Schoolgirl Ninja of Oz," Erika supplied, panting lightly and straightening her blouse."No. There's no way somebody's actually making Pan -- a movie about a child-abducting Peter Pan being chased by Police Captain Hook. That cannot be a thing that's happening. I will not allow it." Chaz whipped his oversized Ironic BlackBerry across the room. Geoff barely managed to duck the shattering, hilariously dated shards of beige plastic."I was thinking about retro-upgrading to a wrist-telegraph anyway."
"It is, sir. I promise you, it is. Every single one of those are real movies that are being made right now, and I'm very, very sorry." "Erika," Geoff mumbled, deflated, "could you give us a moment?""Absolutely, sir. And for what it's worth, Mr. Blazer, may I simply say that you were the best I've ever had: You've synced with my Climactic Outlets in a way that no property has ever executed on before," Erika replied, and then ducked quietly outside. She swung the door shut with the crisp, practiced, professional motions of somebody who's been asked to leave almost every room she's ever been in."What did she mean by that, do you think?" Geoff asked Chaz, who sat silent, numbly lubricating his own little patch of eel skin."Hmm? Oh, that: I was Bluetooth-banging your PR manager through her iGlasses. It's the new sexting."Geoff's eyes went wide. His jaw slackened, and his desk rose an auspicious four vertical inches."You brilliant, manic cyberpredator! That's it! That's our next movie! TwilightYou can buy Robert's book, Everything Is Going to Kill Everybody: The Terrifyingly Real Ways the World Wants You Dead, and follow him on Twitter, Facebook and Google+. Or you could donate to his kickstarter campaign and help make Sex-Sting a reality.
For more of Robert's insights into Hollywood, check out 5 Classic Movies If They Got Pitched in Hollywood Today and How Hollywood Decided to Reboot Spider-Man (Probably).