Madmotive

While Season 5 is still a ways off, Vincent Kartheiser and Rich Sommer have donned their Mad Men personas and released a video through funnyordie.com, campaigning a little for high-speed rail.



It's pointed and funny, but not broad like many of the videos on Funny or Die. Not that I'm saying there's something wrong with being broad, its just that its hard to even call this one a parody. It sticks so closely to the tone of the show it could almost have come out of an episode.

I love the message, too. With increasingly high gas prices, pollution, traffic congestion, not to the mention the cost and anxieties of air travel, I've wanted to see a greater emphasis on rail systems for awhile now. Apparently, in real life Vincent Kartheiser doesn't own a car and relies entirely on public transportation to get around, so its nice to know this is an issue really close to his heart. It seems the locomotive might once again emerge as the future of transportation and industry in this country and I couldn't be more pleased. Actually, and I know this isn't exactly the kind of high-speed rail they're talking about, but if there is one dream vacation I envision for myself in the future it's a cross-country trip on a luxury train.

At the end of the video there is a link for madfasttrains.com, which will take you to a U.S. PIRG (Public Interest Research Group) website. There you can send a message to your senator about your support for high-speed rail and make a donation if you're so inclined. For any donation over $10 you'll receive a bumper sticker with the slogan "I'd rather be riding high-speed rail!". Which is a slogan I think would get you thrown out of Don Draper's office. It might as well be "The cure for the common traffic jam", or something like that. I liked what Harry was pitching in the video, "Smoking car or smoking car?", but that's a little abstract for a slogan. His other one's better: "Parking is murder". I'd rather have that bumper sticker -

Parking is Murder
Save a Space.
Ride the Rail...

Like Stumbling Into The Wrong Movie Theatre, Watching For A Minute, Then Remembering You Were On Your Way To The Can In The First Place

The Cyberspace Open is an online screenwriting competition held, on average, 1-2 times a year. How it works is a prompt is released on a Friday night and then participants have the weekend to write a scene based around it. Then, a panel of Judgy McJudgersons provide each scene a number ranking (out of 100)and feedback. Those who qualify move onto Round 2 and another prompt. This last weekend marked the 3rd time I've entered. A friend of mine, who is an aspiring screenwriter, turned me onto it and it's been a lot of fun. I've never made it out of the first round, but I've been happy with the scores I received on my previous scenes - 90, 84 and 87, I think. I know I said I'd only done it two times before, but my first scene was accidentally scored twice by two different judges. Really makes you think about the subjectivity of it all. Anyways, what follows is the latest Round One Scene Prompt and my take on it. Like the title of this post suggests, think of it like you missed the first 45 minutes and, even though its super absorbing, you have to be somewhere else entirely, so you only get a taste.

Your PROTAGONIST and his or her LOVE INTEREST are at odds. One of the protagonist’s schemes has gone terribly awry, and the love interest has had it. Write a scene in which they have it out – but in an unconventional way. Their words seem measured and reasonable; but the subtext says another thing entirely. You may use additional characters other than the ones specified.

THE DRINKING GAME
by Noah Roundey

INT. VIP TABLE - PATOLLI AND PLAY COCKTAIL LOUNGE - NIGHT

BASRA strikes a wooden match-stick and lights the end of a cigar. She is attractive, stylish and young. Maybe a little too young for this venue. Her small frame and pixie hair style do little to add any years, but a wicked confidence and serpentine poise almost makes up for it - almost. She kicks back, crosses her legs and gently puffs on the cigar. A glass of scotch sits in front of her. She is celebrating.

Smiling, she idly surveys the crowd. She pauses when she spots a man walking towards her. Mid to late 30’s and classically tall, dark and handsome, he doesn’t exactly blend in - especially because he’s sporting three day old beard growth, his face is stained with dirt and he’s wearing what appears to be the singed remains of a once fine Italian suit. This is BOSTON.

Disappointment flickers across Basra’s face. She extinguishes the cigar in the ashtray and dumps the scotch down her throat. She opens her purse and removes a small revolver. As Boston approaches she keeps it on him from underneath the table.

BOSTON pulls out a chair and sits down. Clearly, he doesn’t consider her a threat.

BOSTON
The twenty-two fits you better than
the Gran Fuego.

BASRA
Hi, teach. So happy you could make
it. I was getting worried. Car
trouble?

BOSTON
No trouble at all. Now don’t stop
on my account. Pardon me.

Boston interrupts a passing waiter. On his tray rests a single bottle of scotch.

BOSTON (CONT’D)
Oh, perfect. A bottle is just what
the little one needs.

Basra briefly glares at Boston before effortlessly shifting
into a smile.

BASRA
Tremendous idea, darling.
(TO THE WAITER)
I would love the Balvenie.

WAITER
Of course. This one is for another
table, but I’ll...

BOSTON
Here’s double for it.

Boston drops a wad of cash on the waiter’s tray. It’s hardly
a decision at all. The waiter puts the scotch down on the
table and leaves the way he came.

BOSTON (CONT’D)
Balvenie 24. Not as old as I’d
like, but 1987 was a hell of a
year, don’t you agree? Never-
mind.

Boston pours the scotch into Basra’s glass, filling it all the way to the top. It overflows a little.

BOSTON (CONT’D)
Go on, sweetheart. Bottoms up.

A long moment passes between them. Finally, she puts her gun back into her purse and picks up the glass. She'll play it his way.

BASRA
(Toasting)
Dou Di Zhu.

In a small series of large, punctuated gulps she tosses all
of the contents of the glass into her gullet.

BOSTON
You know that’s when he was taken
out. Dou. In 87, I mean. Here,
let me get that for you.

Boston pours her another glass. Once again it’s to the brim.

BASRA
Thank you. Yes, I know. Red Nines
and Danish betrayed him.

Basra picks up the glass.

BASRA (CONT’D)
This one’s for Danish. Goodbye,
Danish. That was 87’, also.

She drinks it all down. She maintains. Boston pours her another.

BOSTON
That’s right, but what was the
means of execution? For them both?

BASRA
Poison. Red Nines' specialty.

Basra raises her glass and drinks again. Boston pours in
turn.

BOSTON
Do you know who we drink to this time?

BASRA
Red Nines.

BOSTON
Because what happened next?

Basra tips it back. She is green. She may be sick. The moment passes and she collects herself. Boston has already filled the next drink.

BASRA
She was also assassinated. But
that was later, in 89’. This
scotch wouldn’t know anything about
that.

BOSTON
How did she die?

BASRA
Decapitation. Dou’s specialty.

Basra drinks it all down. She's slouched and wobbly. It's hard to tell if she doesn't know or doesn't care.

BOSTON
And what does that tell you?

BASRA
Dou had fans.

BOSTON
Dou Di Zhu didn’t know the company
he kept. Danish didn’t understand
that assassins can be trusted to
act like assassins. Red Nines
assumed the buried needn’t be
worried on. In all cases they were
ignorant of their place in the
world, of consequences.

He reaches for the bottle.

BASRA
(Laughing)
No, that wasn’t it.

Boston stops and looks at her.

BASRA (CONT’D)
It was because none of them could
see they’d already been gotten
to, long before they were killed.

Boston sits back and lets this sink in.

Basra picks up the bottle. This time she pours the glass to a reasonable measure. She pushes it across the table.

Boston smiles, picks it up and takes a long sip.

Rockmaninov

I was five years old and on a walk around the block with my sister when I found treasure in the grass. Baby blue amidst the green, it looked like a giant Robin's egg, smooth and perfect. Only, when I picked it up, it was heavy. Hard and impenetrable, like a rock. In my tiny fist I carried it home where it was decided that it was, surely, a rock. But a most peculiar rock...

I found a place for it in my room, on my dresser, amongst two dozen other trophies of childhood. Over the years, that collection of souvenirs, tinker-toys, and actual trophies were syphoned off and replaced many times over. All except for one.

If we were friends you saw it. I showed it off to my best friend when I was nine, and to my girlfriend when I was nineteen. I brought it to Kindergarten show-and-tell. I fascinated my sixth grade science teacher with it. His best guess? Over thousands of years, an ocean licked it smooth and painted it blue.

Children are explorers and archaeologists. They find enchanted objects and bring them home to covet or share. Usually, the light at the center fades, the extraordinary becomes the ordinary, the old is replaced with the new. I'm lucky in that I have something that never lost that magic. Twenty-five years later it's still mysterious to me.

Until recently, I honestly hadn't thought about it in a long time. It was out of sight and out of mind, but I knew it was in this briefcase I have, among a few other items I store there. I've always made absolutely certain not to lose it, as though from the moment I first picked it up I acquired some kind of sacred duty. I am the Rock Bearer. I am the Keeper of the Stone.

It's time to take it out and play again. Below is a test image for a photo study I'm planning to do.

A Pocket Sized Story: Take It With You When You Go

Under 40
What do I want? Last night I dreamed of fried chicken and ice cream. A pleasure fest. Pizza dipped in ranch dressing. Lacks some dignity. Is it time for dignity? Something stylish. Sushi. Something smart. Soup. Turtle Soup. Yeah, real avant-garde like that. Rooster Balls. They’ll think this guys been places. Even better, I won't order anything. I’m not hungry. Would someone be insulted by that? Please. Last meals have to be under forty dollars. They told me in a formal letter. I should eat the letter.

“I want a Happy Meal,” I tell the Warden. “And some scratch-offs.”

SuperRamping the SuperOrder Selachimorpha

Once upon a time, a group of University of Michigan students looked around and saw that something wasn't quite right in the world. Something had changed and now not all happy days were yours and my happy days. In fact, it turned out only Sunday and Monday were happy days at all. The rest went Tuesday, Wednesday, crappy days/ Thursday, Friday, Von Trappy days. Saturday, not even a day really. More like VD.

Using some cutting edge math (probably), they were able to trace it all back to a single moment in time -- when one Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli accepted a fateful bet and won.



The phrase “Jumping the Shark” is generally considered to have been coined by Michigan roommates Jon Hein and Sean J. Connolly. As Hein argued. "It's a moment. A defining moment when you know that your favorite television program has reached its peak. That instant that you know from now on...it's all downhill. Some call it the climax. We call it 'Jumping the Shark.' From that moment on, the program will simply never be the same."

Really the idea was conceived when Hein and his roommates were sitting around, drinking beer and watching Nick at Nite. In talking about when some of their favorite tv shows started to go downhill, Connelly remembered the thing with Fonzi and the shark, everybody thought that was a hi-lariously perfect example, Hein eventually created a website devoted to voting on ’Jump the Shark’ moments, and now its part of our cultural lexicon.

People like labels. Once something is labeled it makes it easier to box up and store away so it doesn't have to be thought on anymore. But then what happens is you end up relating to the label more than whatever the actual thing was and you no longer experience it fully. I'm a firm believer that labels, while useful, are by their nature incomplete.

This is undoubtedly so with 'Jump the Shark' and, I admit, I'm guilty of it, too. I think it first reached me back in high school and I know I had plenty of round table style discussions with my friends about when Quantum Leap or Boy Meets World or The X-Files turned that corner. It can be fun to quantify things like that. But its ten years later and now whenever I hear someone invoke shark-jumping, they instantly lose some credibility with me. It just sounds kind of thoughtless and hollow. You may as well call that stuff 'nerd-evil' instead. It's all too absolute for my tastes, I can't dig it.

In the 1st season finale of Community, Pascal's Triangle Revisited, Troy needs a new place to stay and continually drops hints to Abed that they should move in together, leading to this exchange:



That last bit has to be my single favorite line of dialogue in 2010. First of all, props to Danny Pudi and Donald Glover who really sells it and is awesome all around. I'm not sure, but either you have to figure that Troy isn't totally aware of what he's saying, like he genuinely doesn't know where 'Jump the Shark' came from, or he knows exactly what he's saying, making him the wisest mother fucker on NBC. Either way I think the whole point is that if you didn't know that you were supposed to hate that episode, maybe you'd really like it, or at least have an honest opinion about it. Abed's just taking that shit for granted. Troy's comment is the exact opposite of nay saying and I love that. He flips the entire shark-jumping thing on its head and afterwards there are only possibilities. Maybe jumping over a shark is pretty bad ass. Why not? Seriously, in the end, we've all just been quoting some dude from MU who watched a lot of Nick at Nite.

After this episode I realized that even though I'd used it my fair share, and I've continued to hear it in common usage, I had no fucking idea why the Fonz jumped over a shark and I'd never bothered to ask. What was the context of the episode? It only takes a quick Wikipedia search to find that it was the climax of a three-parter called Hollywood. Just from that, it already makes a kind of sense to me. There's a long tradition of television series creating multiple part episodes around the cast traveling to a new locale like Hawaii (The Brady Bunch) or in this case Los Angeles. Usually, these episodes involve some kind of grandiose plot to take advantage of the setting. And since this particular episode revolves around Hollywood, I would think some extravagant theatricality is to be expected. Anyways, the Fonz is called out to Hollywood by some talent scouts thinking he could be the next big thing. His screen test doesn't go so well though and he goes to the beach with the gang to forget his troubles. At the beach, a shark has been trapped right off the coast and we find out that the Fonz has a bit of Selachophobia (fear of inner tubes, naw, just kidding, its sharks). He eventually runs afoul of local hotshot The California Kid who challenges him to a jump. He picks the shark because he expects the Fonz to back down. But the Fonz don't back down from a challenge.

I watched the episode to prepare for this article, but I feel really unqualified to tell you whether its good or not. I don't really know what the standard is for a great Happy Days episode. I can tell you it definitely looked like Happy Days to me. There were some good lines and also some pretty corny ones. As for the infamous scene itself, I liked it. It was over the top and melodramatic for sure, but also pretty fun. Have a look:



You know what I really notice about it? Why is Fonzie wearing swim trunks? I mean, of course, he's going to wear his leather jacket to the beach (they make a joke about it in the episode), so why not just go full tilt and wear the jeans, too? Its not like he's going to get wet, he's the Fonz. If anythings bringing down his coolness factor its that level of clash. In or out, Fonz.

Last year, the Los Angeles Times published a really great article by the writer of the Hollywood 3 episode, Fred Fox, Jr, entitled First Person: In Defense of Happy Days Jump the Shark Episode. In it he discusses the creation of the episode, how it was viewed at the time and how it was not at all the 'death rattle' for the show that its been made out to be:

Was the "Hollywood 3" episode of "Happy Days" deserving of its fate? No, it wasn't. All successful shows eventually start to decline, but this was not "Happy Days'" time. Consider: It was the 91st episode and the fifth season. If this was really the beginning of a downward spiral, why did the show stay on the air for six more seasons and shoot an additional 164 episodes? Why did we rank among the Top 25 in five of those six seasons?

For anyone who wants to, as I've suggested, peal off the label, open the box and experience it fully, I'd highly recommend reading the article.

http://articles.latimes.com/2010/sep/03/entertainment/la-et-jump-the-shark-20100903

And afterwards maybe you'll want to peruse Fred Fox, Jr's IMDB page and see what else he's done (Laverne and Shirley! Family Matters!).

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0288848

Of course, its essential you watch Hollywood. And I know I'll be looking for suggestions on the best Happy Days episodes and checking those out. See, that's the great thing about those boxes. You climb in and they're bottomless.

Where I'm at right now is I'm wondering if part of the reason 'Jump the Shark' caught on is because it sounds like a riff on an older colloquialism that also referred to when things got messed up beyond repair -- 'Screwed the Pooch'. Remember 'Screwed the Pooch'? I liked that better. "Why couldn't Heroes stop screwing the pooch?" I still don't think I'd use it very much, just not my style, but I'd rather hear that than 'Jumped the Shark'. 'Screwed the Pooch' doesn't need context cause it doesn't matter. We all know we shouldn't be screwing the pooch, right? I'm pretty sure there isn't some great scene out there were somebody goes, "A guy literally screwed a pooch. It was the best!" I suppose that makes 'Screwed the Pooch' a case where the label is good enough. Throw that box away...

Doctor, Who Doesn't Want To Be Bigger On The Inside?

The following contains minor spoilers for Doctor Who.

In the long running British television series Doctor Who there is a running joke involving the title character‘s name. He is known simply as “The Doctor”. So, often, during introductions or when he’s referenced to someone who doesn’t know this, there is the inevitable question, “Doctor who?”.

I admit that before my girlfriend introduced me to the show I was under the impression that the character’s name was Doctor Who. Presumably, before he went to medical school he was Mr. John Who, or something. Does this mean that the title of the show itself is an in-joke? There’s a bit of exclusivity to it, after all. Knowing the truth lands you on the other side of the in-crowd. If this is the case, is the title actually a question? Wouldn’t it have to technically be Doctor Who? But its not, so I think the title is just trying to exist in that space of mystery. It doesn’t want an answer. Sort of like Doctor (…) or Doctor Blankety Blankerson. Doctor Who.

I watch the show sporadically, mainly because my girlfriend is pretty into it. I can’t say I’m the biggest fan, but I find something to love here and there. There is a scene in the second episode of the 2005 re-launch, The End of the World, that’s always stuck with me. The Doctor finds himself at a formal alien soiree without a gift for the host. Barely missing a beat he says, “I give you breath from my lungs” and then breaths heartily onto her. Its funny and smart and, when you think about it, kind of beautiful. Its that kind of whimsy that is the backbone of the series.

Generally, I love the concept of Doctor Who. A traveler who is the last of his kind goes from place to place, from time to time, gets into trouble and (like another time-traveling Doctor I once knew) puts right where once went wrong. Every now and then he dies and regenerates into a totally new person, with differing personality traits but the same basic nature.

However, the actual execution of this is where I get frustrated. I feel like so much more could be done with this series and it’s characters than actually is. Now, I’m just going to sidestep any problems I have with the way Doctor Who treats time travel. Needless to say it plays extremely fast and loose by my measure and the rules seem pretty hazy and ill-defined to me but maybe its just because I haven’t watched enough. So I’m going to move right along to The Doctor himself.

Ironically, one of the shows greatest strengths is also one of its weaknesses. The Doctor’s cocksure, playful, resourceful, funny, kinetic, slightly tragic character is a big part of what works and can be a real pleasure to watch. On the other hand, The Doctor is a nearly flawless character. Sure his companions sometimes get feed up with him, usually because he keeps them in the dark, but its played like he’s superior and all-knowing and they would be best off shutting up and letting him do his Time Lord thing. In the end, he’s almost always right and everyone admits how clever and awesome he is.

What’s really too bad is that sometimes the show brushes up against some really interesting, complex character based stuff and immediately sweeps those things back under the rug in time for the next alien threat or end of the world scenario. This seemed especially true during David Tennant’s run as the 10th Doctor. There were occasional glimpses of a seething anger he carried. Sometimes it appeared that at any second he could expose some Old Testament style wrath if the right button was pushed. True to form it never really goes anywhere.

There was an episode in the latest season called The Lodger in which Matt Smith’s 11th Doctor must pose as a human while trapped on Earth, separated from his companions. He secures himself residence in a flat and has to relate to his landlord and the other lodgers while passing himself off as human. That is until he has to contend with the upstairs tenant - an alien who keeps luring people upstairs to feast on. I mean, does every episode have to have a mystery surrounding an alien threat? Even The X-Files sometimes took time off from its formula. Remember when Scully got a tattoo and slept around? I just wanted to see how The Doctor would live as a human. Wouldn’t it have been cool if he was separated from everything for a couple months or years? Would he take up residence and settle in? I’d think his wanderlust would eventually express itself in a new way. Maybe he’d be a truck driver or a pilot. I think that’s more of an interesting story, but that’s just me.

I come up against another problem with the show sometimes by way of its female characters, most often in the form of The Doctor‘s feisty companions. Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Donna Noble and Amy Pond and River Song. In the latest incarnations of Doctor Who these women have become nearly as iconic as the Doctor’s themhimselves. They have each been entertaining, bold women in their own rights and have many well drawn character traits that define them. However, occasionally I feel as though they, and other women on the show as well, are written with a cheap formula. Kick-ass + Emasculating = Strong Female Character. Its lazy writing and not worthy of characters who by all rights are supposed to be far more nuanced and complex than that.

There was a joke in last years finale, The Big Bang, when The Doctor, in the midst of jumping back and forth through time, pops back in on his companions wearing a brand new Fez.

“I wear a Fez now. Fez’s are cool.”

It makes me smile just thinking about it. And what’s the first thing River does when she sees that? She makes fun of it, prompting Amy to take it right off his head. In tandem, she throws it up in the air while River draws her pistol and blasts it out of the sky. You see the joke is, “No, Fez’s are stupid. We’re scoring one for the ladies here. If men didn’t have us women, oh my god, can you imagine?” Fuck you both. This is probably some of my own stuff coming up here considering some women having had bizarrely strong opinions about me and hats but seriously, you suck. Let the man have his Fez. After all, he's wearing the shit out of that thing.



I would have been happy to see it become part of his normal look. At the end, when the dust clears on the latest apocalypse The Doctor assesses himself and checks for his new lid before remembering what happened to it. He shrugs, “I can buy a fez.” I wish he would. Don’t listen to those shrews.

Based on the trailer for next season it looks like this is going to become a running joke. The premiere takes place in the American West and you see him in a cowboy hat. “I wear a Stetson now. Stetsons are cool.” And what does that bitch, River Song do?



Look, we’re not talking about ass-less chaps here. He’s wearing a hat. You can’t even let a grown man where a hat? Why are you so insecure? Who hurt you?

In contrast to my feelings about Doctor Who, is its spin-off series Torchwood. The concept focuses on a team of special operatives who work for a secret shadow organization representing earths first line of defense against extra-terrestrials. It sounds fairly derivative and not very unique, but its execution has consistently surprised me and surpassed its mother series. Its grown far past where it started, allowed itself to keep evolving, and has gone to some extremely fresh, complex and adult places.

Still, with Doctor Who its easy to find something to love. In the annual Christmas episode that aired just last month, A Christmas Carol, Amy and Rory are honeymooning on a space cruise when disaster strikes and they have to jump immediately out of their suite and into action. The first thing you notice is that Rory is wearing a Centurion uniform and Amy a police woman’s uniform. They were clearly in the middle of something that was minutes away from turning this space ship into a satellite of love. This is also actually a call back to previous episodes where Rory actually was a Centurion for a time and Amy was…a kiss-o-gram or stripper or something, but she was wearing that in the first episode, I think. Anyways, the point is that The Doctor’s companions know the secret to a good marriage.

I believe there is one of two things going on there. One is that Amy is simply turned on by a man in a suit of armor, while Rory has his own separate police woman fantasy. The other, and far more interesting to me, is that they stepped outside the box of the traditional role playing paradigm. Pioneers in the new frontier of anachronistic role playing, I tip my hat to them. Actually, for a pair of time travelers that probably makes a sort of sense. After all, in their world it actually is conceivable for a police woman to pull over an ancient Centurion. And maybe that Centurion is down on his luck and doesn’t have any money for the ticket. And maybe the police woman has grown tired of the soft, unsure touch of modern man…

Swinging From Hitchcock's Rope

The following contains spoilers for Alfred Hitchcock's Rope

Since she knew I’d only seen a couple of Alfred Hitchcock’s films, my girlfriend gave me a DVD box set for Christmas. It’s a handsome set. A pool-table red felt stylishly lines the outside, Hitchcock’s signature profile embroidered in it. A full 14 of his movies reside within. The first one we put on was Rope.

Rope was released in 1948 and stars Jimmy Stewart. Based on the play of the same name the basic plot involves two friends strangling a former classmate to death, stashing the body in a chest, and hosting a dinner party with the corpse’s unsuspecting parents and fiancé in attendance.

The Wikipedia entry on the film refers to the killers, Brandon and Phillip, as Aesthetes, which I first read as Assletes. Apparently this refers to a 19th century European movement that emphasizes a complete disconnect between art and morality. For Brandon and Phillip killing David Kentley is akin to high art, proving their intellectual superiority. I think Brandon is the bigger asslete, though. Through-out the dinner party Phillip is coming apart inside from the guilt, but Brandon keeps trying to add little flourishes to the murder. He moves all of the table settings from the actual dinner table to the chest so that everyone will eat over the body. He lets David’s father borrow some books and binds them for him with the same rope he used to kill his son. He even swings a conversation into “Isn’t murder kind of cool? Hey, man, I’m just sayin’” territory.

Jimmy Stewart plays a past professor of the three young men (2 killers, 1 killed). The idea for Brandon and Phillip’s grand murderpiece came from his hypothetical classroom discussions. In that way it’s kind of like Inception. By the end you get the impression that Jimmy Stewart will be dealing with the guilt for a long while.

Rope is known for its experimental approach to filmmaking. The story unfolds in real time and consists of about ten long shots strung together to give the impression that the entire film is one long scene. I think the idea is to give a subconscious impression to the audience. The movie is a metaphorical rope.

After the end credits rolled we found the official trailer on the disk.



What is really fascinating about it is how it touches on things that aren’t in the movie, things that occur before and after. In a kind of prologue to the film it shows the audience two lovers on a park bench and, late for an appointment, the man walks away. Then Jimmy Stewart, looking out into the camera, cuts in and says, “That’s the last time you’ll see him alive”. This is true. The life has already been squeezed out of David by the first moment he’s shown in the actual movie.

Stewart than describes events in the past tense, “What happened to David Kentley changed my life completely…and the lives of seven others”. So it’s kind of like an epilogue, too. The events of the film have already happened, and he’s talking from the other side of that. I guess you could infer that David Kentley‘s murder was turned into a motion picture, thereby becoming a more traditional form of artistic expression. And the Professor's doing some advertising for it, hopefully because he finds it therapeutic...