Let's discuss experiences in failure in my screenwriting quest, with a project I accidentally created in 2004.
But first let's rewind to 2004.
This was the year Janet Jackson's warm, round, Hershey Kisses shaped breast was exposed to all the world to see, which resulted in a right wing firestorm.
We'd already had two years of loyal Bushies and angry Neo-Cons mucking up the society (much the same way Fox News feels the Obama-ites are doing now), and the undercurrent of electric outrage was alive.
Frankly, I didn't see the fuss.
In fact I went out and found myself as many still images I could of the event.
But that was how the year opened, which led to all those Neo-Cons calling for harder censorship laws, people in Bush's administration trying to criminalize the adult film industry (I know the dude's name, just can't think of him right now), and it seemed the moral majority witch hunt was on.
MTV and VH1 were also suffering from these pitchfork carrying psychos, and I plainly remember a Maroon Five music video becoming censored because it was felt the lead singer and the not entirely clothed female in the video rolling around in bed wasn't pure enough.
Or something to that affect.
They probably just didn't want to risk raising the already inflated ire that burned brightly at the entertainment atmosphere.
Fast forward a few months, and this madness is really kicking in from what I remember. Then, hallelujah, a savior has been filmed and was to be projected upon big screens.
It was called "The Passion of the Christ," an arguably not too well executed movie that brought the Christians in by the pound. The MPAA gave that movie an R-Rating, but Christians kept taking their kids to see something they'd normally rail against if it was any other movie.
My considered rationalization for this was simple: "it's different! This is holy violence!"
Regular violence is evil, holy violence is great: Inquisitions, witch hunts, and nailing a guy to a piece of wood for saying "let's all get along, it'll be great."
Love those crazy Christians.
Now while this is going on, I've started an ongoing joke in my head which went something like: "The Passion of Chris! Feel His Passion!"
And I'd concocted this whole movie poster of this good looking guy tied to a bed, with a seductive smile looking out at the viewer, with a tagline that would describe this particular offering as "Witness The Final 12 Hours Of Chris' Virginity!"
So we've got a charged atmosphere, we've got censorship running crazy, there was great approval of widescreen closeups of nailing some poor dude to a plank of wood, and it all combined with one rather unlikely piece of information: a possible Writer's Guild strike.
I don't know what finally pushed me into writing the script, but one day the right neurons sparked in the perfect arrangement and a whole new story was born.
Now, during all of this, I'd stumbled upon the adult film studio Digital Playground, which had brought the adult genre into the 21'st Century. No longer would adult films be, well, terrible - badly shot, horribly lit, no story, bad acting, terrible use of video instead of film, and so on.
The production quality of one trailer I'd viewed, namely for a features called "Three Timing," said to me "The Valley has caught up with Hollywood. Everything now is possible."
It was clever, it had higher production qualities than the local CBS Affiliate channel, it was in anamorphic widescreen for Chrissakes!
Yeah, the acting was still iffy, but everything else had greatly improved!
So take all these elements, mix them up, and after a bit of research and four days of furious writing, I'd completed a first draft script that was around 100 pages long.
And the story was this: young up and coming writer\director is just about to sign on the dotted line when the WGA does go on strike, and he's out in the cold. Meanwhile, his agent finds him work to pay the bills working on an adult film called, appropriately enough, "The Passion of Chris."
He very reluctantly accepts the gig, finds a very talented actress who, he feels, is wasting her talent in this particular industry, and learns that he has achieved a dream when he originally feels like he's been kicked to the curb.
It's obvious where the jokes come from, but where the heart of the story comes from is a much different place.
In my research, I read both the horror stories and the life affirming stories of adult performers. There was an article how one female performer was asked to visit a fan of hers who was, at that time, in the hospital.
She paid him a visit, gave him an autograph I believe, and was very friendly to this guy who enjoyed her work.
There's an actress who does adult films, yet has a Bachelor's Degree in microbiology, of all things.
It was amazing - it was stunning to me, to be perfectly honest.
Another concept that inspired the ending of my script came from real life as well - a young man once dreamed of becoming a doctor. He watched medical professionals on television, he was interested in the profession, yet he became an actor.
Only later in his life did he become a doctor: Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy.
Yes, Deforest Kelly was that little boy who dreamed of becoming a doctor, and in some surprising twist of fate, he became exactly that as that's what we all remember his as: a doctor.
And that's the question posed to my fictional writer\director: can you be happy where you are, having achieved what you have even if it isn't originally what you conceived of.
The answer was, of course, yes. My fictional character had achieved his dreams, and realized he'd have much more freedom outside of Hollywood, and the adult studio was only too glad to bring him in full time.
There were jokes I didn't get to use in "Passion of Chris," but I saved them for the sequel I never got around to writing: "The Next Temptation of Chris," which was to be about censorship run amuck, and so on.
It also had the jokes of bringing in Norah Jones and Britney Spears, questioning them constantly about their lyrics in a hearing not unlike the ones during the 50's House on Un- American Activities.
The questions were to say "Don't Know Why" was actually about impotence (read the lyrics, you'll get it) and "Baby, One More Time..." was about spousal abuse.
Too bad there was no "If You Seek Amy..." back then.
I wrote "Chris" in four days, as stated above.
I promoted it vigorously.
No one would touch it.
Hell, no one would even return my letters...at all. Not even to say "not interested."
Looking back that's possibly due to the fact the WGA and AMPTP discussions were flaky at best, but even after they were resolved the same cold reception greeted "Chris" on both coasts.
So I let "The Passion of Chris" rest.
I've made no attempts to resurrect it. I will make no further attempts.
It's a funny as hell story, but it has a very serious center to it. It is my biggest failure to date, which is sad because it had so much going for it. It also had something even bigger going against it: time.
2004 and its madness won't come back again...for which I'm deeply thankful, even if I have to scrap an entire screenplay.
And no one will ever know...
And promotions continue for "Sweet Dreams: A Sandman's Story" and "Summertime Blues."
