Ever try to watch one of those Hallmark Channel Christmas movies, just to maybe, zone out a little? You know, kick back with a Xanax-nog and let it snow? And then, because the people on screen are so much more zoned out than you are, you start to wonder how one of these movies like, oh, say, An Unexpected Christmas can exist? Like, how can they nail, EVERY TIME, that weird filmic vacuum they manage to create, where these actors wander through and act like no human on Earth ever acted? Like, it was entirely produced, written, and filmed by HAL, the computer from 2001. Or mantid like aliens who viewed Earth/American culture at a high school play where teen-agers were playing middle-aged characters, like from Plaza Suite or Chapter Two and then attempted to make a Christmas movie for their planet, based on these observations? Where you can't help/wonder at how these performances can be so far removed from the Human Experience, let alone romantic comedy? And the vapid, synth music, punctuating every syllable, every--OH MY GOD, THE HORROR!!! Well, I've decided to write my own cable Christmas movie. But I like my egg-nog with a lot of nutmeg...so here's my take on the genre. I'm calling it... THE CHRISTMAS THAT SNOW BALLED FADE UP: INT. AUDITORIUM -NIGHT We see a stage, its' deep, crimson-velvet curtains, softly lit. The AUDIENCE MURMURS. We hear the sound of SOFT FLUTES, piping the familiar strains of "We Three Kings." The curtain rises and we see the caravan of THE THREE WISE men, in silhouette, as they follow the bright North Star. The first figure is MELCHIOR, resplendently robed as he carries a small chest of gold. REWRITE ALERT! So, I've been spinning ideas for this and our heroine is going to be named Honoria "Ri-Ri" Cummings. So, going forward, the title of this enterprise is... CUMMING HOME FOR CHRISTAMAS FADE UP: INT. AUDITORIUM -NIGHT We see a stage, its' deep, crimson-velvet curtains, softly lit. The AUDIENCE MURMURS. We hear the sound of SOFT FLUTES, piping the familiar strains of "We Three Kings." The curtain rises and we see the caravan of THE THREE WISE men, in silhouette, as they follow the bright North Star. The first figure is MELCHIOR, resplendently robed as he carries a small chest of gold. Behind him is BALTHAZAR, similarly dressed, bearing a container of myrrh. Next we have GASPAR, who has an urn of frankincense. The three circle the stage and as they pass an empty manger, they place their gifts in front of it. Suddenly, the North Star glows stronger and begins to lower, as we realize there is a woman sitting within it. She is pregnant. As the star lowers towards the stage, the CAMERA MOVES CLOSE on the face of "Mary." We hear the voice of HONORIA CUMMINGS as she NARRATES over the scene. HONORIA (O/S) You probably know who that is. The Virgin Mary, right? Wrong! That's me, Honoria Cummings. You can call me "Ri-ri." Everyone does. Well, not everyone. But some people. So, yeah...my name isn't Mary. And I'm not a virgin. And neither is the Mary I'm playing. She's really going to have a baby. I have to say, I never expected I'd be expecting when I went back to Winooski Falls. That's in Vermont. It's where I grew up. They invented Maple Balls there. Have you ever had Maple Balls? You haven't? Well let me tell you--oh, wait a second--this happened. I never expected this to happen. Oh, well, I mean the thing that happens right after this: Once "Mary" reaches the stage, the Three Wise Men kneel and Joseph comes out of the wings and escorts Mary off. A sign lowers from the rafters, which we can't quite make out. Suddenly, we hear a loud, pounding, DRUM as a spotlight hits the sign. It reads: "Jolly Jingle's First Annual Christmas Striptacular." The lights come up and we can see that the audience is mostly women, dressed to the nines in sexy club attire. They start A'WHOOPIN, A 'HOLLERIN' AND A CHEERIN.' The drum beats segue into a heavy disco version of "WE THREE KINGS," as the Three Wise Men stand and drop their kingly garments. Melchior is actually CAMERON SMITH, 25ish. Balthazar is DYLAN JONES, 25ish. And finally, Gaspar is being danced by BRENDAN LEE, 25ish. They are all incredibly handsome and spectacularly physiqued. That is, "chiseled" in every way; from head to tootsies. That they are rather interchangeable is beside the point: this is a HALLMARK joint. All we ask is that one be blonde, one be brunette and one a redhead. And at least one has a spectacularly hirsuted, Tom Selleckesque pec package. The three men dance in the new-old-fashioned way. Or is that the old, new-fashioned way? Whatever way it is, it includes a high level of provocative athleticism and quickly escalating nudity, as the trio peel away more and more of their regal raiments; much to the excitedly escalating delight of the mostly distaff crowd, which is growing more carried away by the moment! And who could blame 'em!??! REWRITE ALERT!!! Huh...I just learned that Hallmark Channel did a Three Wise Men themed movie in 2022, which seems as though it was inspired by the movie Three Men and a Baby. Great(!) minds think alike, I suppose; and yes, I will admit that people can have the same ideas when it comes to IP. So, I guess we can take that as a sign that Hallmark might be getting a little more adventurous when it comes to the plotting of their telemovies; because, let's face it: thus far, they've been recycling what appears to be the same script, ad infinitum, by simply changing the names of the characters and the actors playing them. So, in that adventurous spirit, I will continue with my Christmas telemovie, the same way I was going. So... UNREWRITE ALERT!!! Now, this is an entirely different Christmas TVmovie. This one would be for Lifetime (Television for Women and Gay Men): Mrs. Claus' Conjugal Christmas Visit. Hey, I'd watch it! INT. -JOLLY JINGLE'S RESTAURANT/STAGE The show continues as the Three Wise Dancers undulate and oomph and va-va-voom their way through the audience. Eventually, the three men are down to metallic jockstraps that more or less match their hair. Gold for the blonde, pewter for the brunette and copper for the redhead. After various and sundry EXCITED LADIES stuff various and sundry denominations into said jockstraps, the three men return to the stage as Mary/Honoria comes back out, accompanied by "Joseph" now. Joseph is being essayed by a fourth fellow, with silver hair. He is TYLER WHITE, 25ish. He has prematurely gray hair, but he's as coiffed and cut and chiseled as the other three guys. He steers Honoria to a hay bale near the manger, where she sits and looks on demurely; as though there is nothing at all out of the ordinary that three kings are sexily shimmying in her immediate vicinity and then are joined by her husband. Joseph drops his drab drapings and participates in the dance as well. However, we sense something unscripted is happening when the Three Wise Men dance past the manager and each one pulls a small velvet box out of the hay; as Honoria registers a look of confusion. So does Joseph, who has retrieved a ring box from his "pouch." The four men circle Honoria/Mary and kneel before her. Each one opens their ring-box and proffers a diamond engagement ring to Honoria. CUT TO: A series of TIGHT CLOSE-UPs on the faces of each man. Then Honoria's face. Then the rings. Then everyone's eyes. Then back to Honoria who looks from one man to the other. She looks out into the audience, where the women are still going crazy. Suddenly, the action halts with a FREEZE-FRAME. We close on Honoria's confused face as she continues to narrate. HONORIA Yes, four marriage proposals at the same time! From four different fellahs, yet. Any one of whom could have been my Christmas baby daddy. Ooops, make that five. You see, there was a fifth fellah. His name is Marlon. He's my boss. I guess I should explain. It's complicated. You see, it all started back in the city. A Big City... This is my boss, Marlon Johnson. We see a series of STILL SHOTS of MARLON JOHNSON. He's late 20ish, early 30ish; but just as chiseled and worryingly handosme as any of the other men in this photoplay. In the stills, Marlon is doing various sexy things to his business attire in business settings. HONORIA (CONT.) For some reason, he's always changing clothes in the office. He claims he has "EPS." That's Excessive Persipiration Syndrome. I don't know. I thought he didn't break much of a sweat when--well, we won't there yet. He thinks he's that actor who's always playing a cop...oh, you know the one...from the 80's...is it Tom Jones? Or was he a singer? He sings in the shower. He's actually pretty good. Where was I? So, let's see. Now this would've been about a year ago...and I'm going to stop narrating now; but I'll probably do some more later. CUT TO: INT. OFFICE -DAY A modern, dynamic office space. Chic, busy BUSINESS PEOPLE doing business all over the place. Floor to ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the skyline of Big City. We can see all the famous sky-scrapers and the vast expanse of the park and/or the Great Lake below. The camera lingers on the view and then PANS to a set of glass door, which swing open. HONORIA CUMMINGS, early 20s, enters. We've seen her in her Virgin Mary costume; but now we get a glimpse of her in jungle clothing. The Cocrete Jungle, that is. Classic Business attire with a high-fashion twist. Pencil skirt, fitted suit, high-heels bordering on too high. And a Christmas themed winter hat. She's carrying a briefcase and several other bags while she expertly balances pastries on the lid of her coffee cup. The pastries are red and green as well. She stops at a desk, where sits a man. He's 30-something. Kind of non-descript. Very flat affect. His name is JURGIN TURPIN. He's wearing a very basic red and green plaid sweater vest. He's typing and doesn't look up. JURGIN You're late Ms. Cummings. They're waiting. HONORIA I'm sure Marlon is regaling them. Would you like a Tannenbon-bon? JURGIN A what? She offers him a pastry. POTENTIAL REWRITE/RETHINK ALERT!!! So, I was thinking about the admittedly "Mama Mia!"esque storyline of Honoria having five potential baby daddies. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Was she trying to get pregnant? So, I ran this query by my husband. I asked: "Would a woman who had five different men as potential fathers to her child be thought of as "slutty"? He thought for a moment. His response was decidedly in the positive. So, then I asked: "Okay, so on a sluttiness scale where Samantha from "Sex and the City" was at five and it went to ten--" "Samantha only rates a five? I would say she's at least a nine..." "Okay, so Samantha is a nine. Now, if my character got pregnant and there were five potential dads, what would that maker her?" "A ten." "But what if she had been trying to get pregnant, and out of necessity went with a Groupon type deal?" "Why couldn't she just try with one man five different times?" "She's in a rush and she's independent." "I don't think she could score lower than a nine, no matter what the case..." "What if three of the guys were identical triplets and she got confused?' "How would she get confused?" "She had too much to drink." "So, she's a drunken slut?" "No! They were drunk too and they got confused!" "So, they got confused and ran a train on her?" "No!!! You see, they were all there in the Christmas themed ski lodge with their girlfriends and everyone had too much egg-nog and people got up to get drinks of water and midnight snacks and got confused and went into the wrong rooms and so on and so forth--" "So, she got banged three times in one night? She's a ten." You see the problem here. Or is it a problem? Should we just ignore this moral conundrum? Or do we like the identical triplets thing? The Three Wise Identical Triplet Men. We might just have to go with that! ANOTHER THOUGHT So, Honoria just wandered into the office with a Christmas pastry called a "Tannenbon-bon." This got me thinking on another story spur which could play into the events of this story later on, with what the kids nowadays are calling a "payoff." This little scene would go in right after the strip show and right before she comes into the office. We'll do some script rearranging later. CUT TO: EXT. BIG CITY STREET -DAY Honoria is walking down the city street, lugging her business stuff. We've seen her in her Virgin Mary costume; but now we get a glimpse of her in jungle clothing. The Cocrete Jungle, that is. Classic Business attire with a high-fashion twist. Pencil skirt, fitted suit, high-heels bordering on too high. She's carrying a briefcase and various other bags. The wind is blowing and flurries flutter through the air. She puts the collar up on her faux-fur coat and adjusts her hat: a red and green holiday number. She approaches a vendor's cart where a LITTLE OLD LADY tends to her wares: pastries and coffee. The camera PANS over the assortment of savories. Each one is more incredible than the next; dessert delicacies you might expect to find at Versaille, circa 1699; not on a food cart on a city street corner. HONORIA Could I get a coffee and a--ooh, everything looks so amazing. Did you make all this? LITTLE OLD LADY (In an odd, unplaceable accent) Yes dear. I can see you're having trouble deciding. But sometimes, simplest is best. I recommend the Tannenbon-bons. HONORIA Okay, sure. I'll take two dozen. The old lady gets the items and hands them to Honoria. LITTLE OLD LADY Fifty cents please. HONORIA What? Are you kidding? LITTLE OLD LADY Do I look like the kidding type? HONORIA Well, yeah-- LITTLE OLD LADY Well, I'm not. HONORIA Here's a twenty. Please, keep the change! The old woman gives her back nineteen dollars. Honoria protests; but the woman pooh-poohs her and comes out from behind the cart and reaches up to Honoria's collar. LITTLE OLD LADY Here's a little Christmas present from me to you... HONORIA Oh, you don't have to do that! LITTLE OLD LADY I want to. What she pins to Honoria's lapel is a vintage looking Santa head with a little jingle bell hanging down. Honoria looks at her watch. HONORIA Oh, I am going to be so late! LITTLE OLD LADY You need a cab? HONORIA Desperately. But I don't see any-- LITTLE OLD LADY Here's one now... Honoria turns as a cab pulls over, which is strange, as no one has flagged it down. She looks at the old lady suspiciously but only receives a mischievious smile in return. She climbs into the taxi. CUT TO: INT. OFFICE -DAY A modern, dynamic office space. Chic, busy BUSINESS PEOPLE doing business all over the place. Floor to ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the skyline of Big City. We can see all the famous sky-scrapers and the vast expanse of the park and/or the Great Lake below. The camera lingers on the view and then PANS to a set of glass door, which swing open. Honoria enters, expertly balancing the pastries on the lid of her coffee cup as she quickly lugs her stuff across the floor. She stops at a desk, where sits a man. He's 30-something. Kind of non-descript. Very flat affect. His name is JURGIN TURPIN. He's wearing a very basic red and green plaid sweater vest. He's typing and doesn't look up. JURGIN You're late Ms. Cummings. They're waiting. HONORIA I'm sure Marlon is regaling them. Would you like a Tannenbon-bon? JURGIN A what? She offers him a pastry. CLOSE on pastries. They resemble donut holes, with a smattering of frosting and red and green sprinkles. HONORIA Tannenbon-bons. A lady was selling them on the corner of 34th and Broadway. Try one. JURGIN They're from a street vendor? HONORIA Yes. JURGIN Have you tried one? HONORIA No. JURGIN Well, what do they taste like? HONORIA Poison, Jurgin. They taste like poison. Could I get a little help here? Jurgin stands and helps her with her coat and bags and coffee, etc. JURGIN Well, you know, "tannen" is German for "fir." So they taste like fir? HONORIA Fur? Like a coat? JURGIN No, like pine sap? HONORIA Is that even a thing? And why aren't you wearing a fun sweater? We're doing that office ugly sweater thing later. I thought you guys were supposed to be festive. JURGIN Really? "You guys?" Why not just say "you people?" HONORIA You're right. That was insensitive. JURGIN I don't do ugly sweaters. It's Brooks Brothers or nothing. He notices the pin on her coat, which he's holding. JURGIN My grandmother had one of these. Where did you get this? CLOSE on the pin. Jurgin pulls the jingle bell and the nose lights up, bright red. HONORIA Oh, isn't that cute? How do I look? JURGIN You have lipstick on your teeth. He hands her a tissue and she goes to a mirror. She turns and smiles. JURGIN Good enough. He pushes her through the door to the conference room. CUT TO: INT. CONFERENCE ROOM -DAY Honoria enters the room. A long glass-topped table runs the length of it. Seated around it are numerous BUSINESS MEN and BUSINESS WOMEN. They are talking amongst themselves, clearly waiting on Honoria's arrival. At the head of the table is MARLON JOHNSON, 30ish. He is extremely handsome and finely physiqued; resembling Tom Selleck in his heyday. He has a curled, old-timey mustache and has his feet up on the table, crossed at the ankle. His suit jacket is draped over a chair and his tie is loosened and his sleeves rolled up. He is the epitome of "louche." MARLON (Sitting up and drumming on table) Ladies and gentlemen and everyone else...please put your hands together for...Miss Honoria Cummings! Honoria blushes, despite herself. This is par for the course where Marlon is concerned. HONORIA
So sorry I'm late! I couldn't-- MARLON It's all right. HONORIA It'll take me a just a minute to set up-- MARLON There's been a change of plans. I'll be giving the presentation. HONORIA But, I've done an entire BulletPoint extravaganza-- MARLON I'll be doing that. HONORIA But I've got binders for everyone... MARLON I'm taking you off the Pop- Up Car Air Freshener Boutique thing. HONORIA What? You can't! Do you know how long it took me to get a meeting with Fujitsu's CEO? MARLON I've got something more pressing. Fujitsu is taken care of. So before you get further hot and bothered, I'm asking you to take a breath, sit down and listen to what I have to say. What are those? HONORIA (Putting a box of pastries on the table) Tannenbon-bons. BUSINESSMAN TED They look like donut holes. By the way, I'm taking the meeting with Fukuyama (He puts a hard edge on the "K"). HONORIA (Glaring at Marlon) Really? TED We're going to The Teahouse of the Cherry Moon; that place with the geishas. HONORIA It's pronounced "Foo-koo-yama," Ted. Ted shrugs as people GIGGLE. Honoria sits and tries to maintain an even strain. Marlon stands. MARLON In this world that we call our world; sometimes, things can slip through the cracks. And in our business, as business people, we're in the business of doing business. And sometimes it's none of our business. But sometimes, it is our business and we have to get to business dealing with those...cracks. Please see "Hallmark for the Restivus Part 2" for continuing story! CFR 1/18/24 So, I was thinking... I wanted to come up with some "content" for my "content craving" fan-base (whoever you are). Something I could just post quickly, that wasn't too involved, or required "research." That might make you smile or laugh; and let's face it: in these troubled times, we need all the mirth we can get. So I thought: "How about a ridiculous advice column"? I already did one blog, based on Diana Vreeland and her absurd column from way back in the day: Why Don't You...? -wherein she dispensed mostly unsolicited "advice" to her well-heeled readers. Things along the lines of, uses for flat champagne, and so forth. But, Diana already did that. So, I wanted to create a character based on Ms. Vreeland, that wasn't actually Ms. Vreeland. The above sketch is a prototype. She looks a little too much like the puppet "Madam." 'Memba her? And if she's going to make an appearance in every one of these columns, I wanted to streamline the process of drawing her. Kind of like the "Femlin" from Playboy magazine, except with pearls. And a big schnozz. So, if and when we ever think of the "Femlin," what do we think? Do we think she's an antiquated, objectified stereotype? A Male Gaze fantasy from the days of pipe smoking and three-martini lunches? Or do we think she's, perhaps, one of the first, truly liberated depictions of a modern, sexually self-possessed woman? I mean, she was one of the first depictions of the female form to unabashedly display pubic hair. A full-on, old-school, golden triangle (although it was jet black). And she wasn't coy about it. Can we connect the dots from the Femlin to Barbie? I think we can. Did you know Barbie was based on a German doll, marketed to men called "Bild Lilli"? I don't know a whole lot about "Bild Lilli" and her history; but in a nutshell, she was a character that ran in a German tabloid aimed at men. Apparently she was featured in single panel strips where she got sassy with controlling men and further apparently, she was some kind of sex worker. A call girl? A doll for men was created; a play-thing if there ever was one. But Lilli was her own gal. Ruth Handler of Mattel saw her in a tobacco store on a trip to Germany and the rest is history. I see almost no difference between Lilli and Barbie except perhaps a lot less rouge on Barbie. And speaking of rouge, you couldn't find more rouge on a less objectified woman than Diana Vreeland. She would wear great swaths of it. It became her trademark. That and her obsidian colored hair. There's a story that one time she was on a plane and the stewardess leaned down and said, "Oh, here honey, let me help you with that..." and she proceeded to try and blend DV's rouge; apparently missing the point that the overstatement was the statement. You never know what's going to inspire you. Case in point... One fine day, back in the 80's, my friend Kelly worked at a kiosk in Faneuil Hall in Boston. Actually, she worked at several kiosks, at different times. One of them sold Lucite gifts that could be engraved. Do you recall "Lucite"? For a while there, it was a thing. Everyone and their brother had something made out of Lucite by the end of the Big Go! (TM/Reg. Pat-Pend) decade. So on one birthday, perhaps my 17th or 18th, I received a Lucite key chain. I so wish I could remember the name of that kiosk/push-cart. There was another one called "Nature's Jewelers" that specialized in stuff like leaves, dipped into gold and made into earrings. But back to the keychain. So, Kelly, who for some reason got it into her head that I was not especially well-endowed, gifted me with this Lucite keychain that was engraved: C-"Pee-Wee"-R. The "C" and "R," of course, being my initials. The Pee-Wee reference, obviously, to the size of my Johnson, which she had (to the best of my knowledge), never seen. I think this is somehow connected to the movie Porky's. I recall opening this gift and having to inquire as to its meaning. Finding this the height of hilarity, she explained. One person there, who in fact had first hand knowledge of said Johnson, attempted to disabuse her of this notion. As for myself, I was, shall we say, bemused. That is, if "bemused" means to be simultaneously "confused" and "amused." Which, in my mind, it does. I did find it rather comical that she would have the...oh, I don't know...words fail me...the gumption, perhaps to present this gift? It would be akin to me giving her a training bra as a birthday gift. But I'm extremely easy going. I mean, was she trying to get under my skin? She was jealous of my relationship with the above mentioned person with the first hand knowledge. I just found it, curious. I mean, I have never been particularly concerned with either my penis size or my height. They are both absolutely on point average. They have always worked for me, without fail; despite this world of Napoleon complexes and size Queens. It's kind of the Goldilock's take: this one is just right! It's funny. I hung(!) on to that key chain for a long time. I never put keys on it; or used it for anything. I put it in a box with a bunch of other mementos and it sat up in my parent's attic for decades. I don't know where it is now; but oddly, I hope it turns up. This is all a really long way of saying that I want to use the initials C.P.W.(R) as a name for my facsimile Diana Vreeland/Femlin/Dear Abby figure. I think her name will be Christina Parker-Whiffington. Works for me! So look for some great advice from C.P. Whiffington in future blogs! I think we're getting closer to our sprite/muse with the following: Be on the lookout for the inaugural installment of If I Were You...
Ciao! Chris CFR 12/10/23 |
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February 2025
AUTHOR
Christopher Reidy is from the Boston area. He attended Boston University where he studied TV and film which eventually led him to Los Angeles. There he did the Hollywood thing (which he wasn’t particularly good at) and eventually met his partner Joseph. He was one of the co-founders of the short lived Off Hollywood Theatre Company which staged several of his original plays. 83 In the Shade is his first novel. He also dabbles in screenplays, toys with short stories, and flirts with poetry. Life brought him to bucolic Southwest Virginia where he now resides and is very active in community theatre. It may interest you to know Chris is officially an Irish citizen as well as an American. He also enjoys drawing and painting and looking after a passel of housecats and two turtles. |