It recently dawned on me that, as a fledgling auteur, now is the perfect time to cast Kevin Spacey in my film. In college, I created a series of hyperpersonal dramatic short films that acted as portrayals of love and what it means to be human with young nobodies I pulled off the street. This process was taxing, as I would stalk people to see if their hand movements when chatting appeared natural to me. And then I’d run up to them all bug-eyed with mouth-frothing desperation and force them against their will to be in a film. It’s the only way to achieve cinéma vérité.
This was all legal as it was under our professor’s class policy: “Being a filmmaker means you can manipulate the world any way you want without consequence.” A wise man he is. Alas, I had a wonderful time, but I was always hungry for more, longing to hone my craft with a legendary actor.
I think I’ve finally figured out a way to make a name for myself in the world of cinema. It may sound controversial, but I wasn’t put on this earth to make crowd-pleasing drivel – I was put on this earth to make polarizing works of art that make you question every life decision you’ve ever made and then call your parents and tell them you’re sorry for no reason in particular.
No one can deny that Kevin Spacey is one of the finest actors of our time, or that he is a complete and total monster, but he’s just super free right now. How could I not take advantage? I really have prolific filmmaker Mark Duplass to thank for this great revelation. After whining to my parents for hours on end about paying for me to go to the SXSW film festival in 2015, they flew me out and I was able to witness his now-famous keynote speech.
I jotted down ten pages of notes into my Moleskine notebook. I’ve never almost felt emotion quite like I did that day. If you don’t know who Mark is, then I’m sorry but you are not living in reality. One of his tips was to find a has-been actor named Randy Hercules and rejuvenate Randy’s career while simultaneously creating your own. And after a year of trying to track down Mr. Hercules and burning through most of my parents’ savings, I realized that this was a made-up name. So now, it’s become clear that Kevin Spacey is my Randy Hercules.
Obviously, I’m aware it’ll be tough to get people to come see my film, but why would I want people who would be against the whole idea at the outset to come see it? I’ll only allow those familiar with what it means to be a struggling artist and know the definition of “misé-en-scene” to witness my vision come to life. At the end of the day, whom are we prodigies kidding? No one understands us – only a group of people with the exact same singular tastes can accurately watch a film made by us.
I just don’t know what else to do, okay? Safeway wouldn’t even hire me and I think it’s a sign I can’t function like a normal person. I was coddled from a young age, you see. All I want is for people to be able to go to the theater and witness a cinematic marvel, a filmic experience full of wonderment, verisimilitude, a single tear running down a cheek, and a superb acting performance from a man who’s been rightfully shunned by society. Oh, and the credits will just say “un film de” followed solely by my name. Yeah, that’s it, that’s the ticket.
