It was a regular day, at a regular get-together at a regular
house, or so it seemed. The cast of the latest Independent
Hollywood offering The Machiavelli Hangman had come together
to rehearse the scenes and do some interviews with local
newspapers.
While the brouhaha settled and everyone gathered around the table
to read the script, everyone radiated an aura of mystery about
them as if they were in on a big secret that no one else had
access to. The cast of Machiavelli Hangman welcomed me right in
and offered me a seat as my nose, ears and fingers buzzed in
anticipation to hear them start.
I had heard a few details about the production and how it was
going to be this great big thing like Rashomon and Pulp Fiction
combined but better. How it would change the face of cinema as we
knew it like the Searchers did or the Sixth Sense a few years
back. That it would give birth to the age of digital filmmaker
where everyone with a good story could be nominated for the
Oscars. Call me a skeptic but I have seen some good independent
films but nothing that I could say I could see win best picture.
I have always reserved that slot for big movies like the English
Patient or Gladiator. Those films that show years of labor to get
to where they are. Somehow I would feel, cheated you could say,
to pay 10 dollars for a film that didn’t cost a lot more to make.
So I went into this thinking "oh well, I’ll go for the buzz and
if it’s decent, I’ll stay for the drink," even though it usually
works the other way around.
So there I was, quietly waiting for the first few uttered words
of the script to form an opinion in my head of whether this was
really the next Reservoir Dogs as everyone had said or just a
cheap rip-off. I waited to see if the dialogue had the flair of a
Quentin Tarantino or the rust of an Ed Wood. And there it was the
first line that launched the script "And they stood there, two
headless men in cobalt-blue suits, one fatter than the other."
Then within minutes, I was caught in a gun fire with words flying
around at the speed of light. Witty comebacks ricocheting off the
actors like bullets, then it all stopped and repeated. For a
moment, I thought that it was a retake, but as I looked over the
director who was sitting there behind his dark glasses and his
fingers interlaced in front of him, I realized that this
repetition was part of the story.
In my mind, I realized I had been taken and my eyes were wider
than appropriate for a professional like myself so I slightly
squinted and I closed my mouth that had been left open for a
little too long.
The twists kept coming and although I had never in my life been
able to focus on a story if someone else read it, this time, I
drowned into the script as if the movie was unraveling right in
front of my eyes. The special effects dazzled in my imagination
and I was utterly surprised at how entertaining a story could be
with the same scene repeating so many times. Like many others, I
have seen Rashomon, and Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs, and
Memento, yet I was still amazed at how this film managed to
surprise me at every flip of the page.
So I was glued to the seat until the last page and I looked down
realizing that time had flown by and I hadn’t made a single note.
And I hadn’t had a single sip of my free drink that was the
reason why I had come here in the first place. Could it have been
that I had gotten a change of heart? Then I looked for the writer
of the piece Shervin Youssefian to congratulate him but I was
caught in a frenzy of applause and excitement. I got caught in
the excitement and joined in the cheers as I looked on in awe
at revolution in the midst of its rise. The age of digital
filmmaking was about to set off and I was proud to be present
while it happened.
Now I tell you and I tell everyone who asks, if this film turns
out half as good as it is on the page, you can mark my words, it
will be the first digitally-shot film to be nominated for the
Oscars.
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