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The New Hollywood Rage Goes on Location in VEGAS |
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front of Hoover Dam. |
'West Side Cactus' and
'Hoover Dam Yankees'?
of TheColumnists.com
You heard it here first: Thanks to the runaway box
office success of the musical “Chicago,” studio execs
are gearing up for the next big trend. Musicals are back--those
heart-tripping, foot-stomping, production number extravaganzas
in which the principles belt out songs on the average of every
26 seconds.
After a two-decade lull, the trend has finally come full circle,
updated with an edgy millennium twist. Since reality is the name
of the current game in entertainment, a new breed of musical
has come to the forefront. Independent film makers, notorious
for the brooding, cerebral, ‘artsy’ quality of their
work, have raised the musical’s basic format to a whole
new level.
This time, production companies are taking it on the road. Forget
the contrived studio lots and not-quite believable soundstages.
These guys plan to film real people in real locations in order
to create the ‘reality musical.’
There’s just one small catch. Not many ‘real’
people warble a chorus or two at the drop of a hat, unless they’re
wandering through the Alps with a bunch of surly day care kids.
Which means that, in the name of artistic license, the reality
musical will include a real location, real situations....and
a few Actors’ Guild ‘ringers’ tossed in, preferably
those who can carry a tune.
With this in mind, teams of Hollywood scouts have been deployed
to find new and intriguing shooting locations. Just last week,
a group from the prestigious Ersatz Films, Inc. arrived in Las
Vegas, hoping to strike location gold. Headed by cinematic genius
Thelonius Yu (the Asian/Baltic phenomenon who catapulted to directorial
fame with his groundbreaking Bruce Lee movie, “Fists of
Latkes.”) the team targeted potential movie locations in
and around the Vegas metro area.
“Forget the Strip!” sniffed Thelonius. “That whole
scene’s been done to death. Gambling, casinos, and the neon
wasteland? Yawn! That’s SO last millennium!”
Flanked by production assistants Avis Hurtz and Jocomo M’blmrongo,
he conducted a comprehensive search of the valley’s natural
resources.
First stop was a trip to Hoover Dam. Only slightly peevish from
the heat, Thelonius snapped his fingers for a restorative spritz
of Evian while he considered the possibilities.
“All this gushing water reminds me of Niagara,” he
said.
Jocomo paused, mid-spritz. “Except nobody comes here to
honeymoon, boss.”
“Not Niagra Falls, you idiot. The movie. Marilyn Monroe
and Joseph Cotten.”
“But that wasn’t a musical. Joseph Cotten didn’t
sing.”
“Maybe he should’ve. She might not have killed him.
Keep spritzing, dammit. And don’t forget my temples. Water
on the brain helps me think.”
“I got an idea, boss.”
Tossing aside her day-glo dreadlocks, Avis pointed to the posted
signs along the dam. Due to federal anti-terrorist protocol,
trucks were prohibited from the entire area.
“Hoover Dam Yankees.” Filmed on location, with some
dancing federal agents in stars and stripes bio-hazard suits.
That would play up to the whole patriotism thing that’s
so popular right now."
”Hmmm. Could work. Liam Neeson as the world-weary but dedicated
senior agent; Angelina Jolie as his assistant. Now that she’s
dumped Billy Bob, she needs a role with some bite to it.”
Drumming manicured fingers, Thelonius could just picture it.
“And Ozzy Osbourne as the terrorist. That way, we could
include a rat-eating scene with no problem.”
“Rats in a musical?”
“Hey, don’t knock it. It worked for Disney, didn’t
it?”
Half an hour and many wrong turns later, the team was well outside
the city’s western limits. Squinting at the passing signs,
Jocomo shook his head.
“I think we’re goin’ in circles, boss. First Red
Rock Canyon, then Calico Mountain, and now Spanish Trail. I never
heard of any of these places.”
“Spanish Trail, you say?” Thelonius took a thoughtful
sip of latte, grateful, as always, for the Benz’s superior
suspension system. Coffee stains on silk were murder. “Say,
how about something with a Hispanic theme? Like “West Side
Story,” only more outdoorsy. Mountain backdrop, a few cacti,
Maria singing her heart out to her forbidden gang lover.”
He was thinking out loud, caught up in the excitement of cinematic
potential. “That’s IT! We can make it a hybrid of “West
Side Story” and “Gangs of New York.” Only the
Vegas Metro Police have cracked down on gang activity in the
city, so all the gangs moved to the desert. Their water supply’s
been cut off, and they’re forced to exist on cactus juice.
So the rival gangs battle for the biggest cactus, and that’s
how Maria meets her beloved. Forget J-Lo as Maria. We could probably
get Rosie Perez for half the price.”
While Thelonius ranted, Avis and Jocomo exchanged a look.
This could be early signs of heat stroke, they figured, or else
the side-effects from sunscreen overdose. Why else would a man
of his experience forget the problems with such a project?
“West Side Cactus” would include greased back pompadours
and flashy satin gang jackets. Apparently he hadn’t equated
the desert’s triple-digit temperatures with hair gel meltdown,
and what was he saying about the gangs’ names? Somehow,
“Gangster Coyotes” and the “Insane Iguanas”
didn’t exactly strike a romantic chord. And he’d want
lots of snappy dance sequences performed under the el tracks....
except, of course, there are no elevated trains in Vegas. Somehow,
doing a big production number while dancing around a prickly
pear just didn’t make the same statement. But no one argued
with Thelonius Yu, film maker extraordinaire. All they could
do was try not to notice that continued exposure to the desert
sun was making their boss as soft as lizard doo-doo.
By the end of the day the team had visited more than 20 potential
locations. As designated secretary, Avis had copied down dozens
of ideas, each more preposterous than the last. After a 55-mile
trek into the desert, Thelonius surveyed the famous Valley of
Fire and pronounced it perfect for a reality musical. Eying the
austere monoliths with their bold red and orange colorations,
he envisioned a desert version of ‘River Dance.”
Dancing human flames were an exciting concept, he said, but if
“Fire Dance” was going to work, they’d have to
check the Actors Guild for availability of Buddhist Monks. As
far as he knew, those were the only people still practicing self-immolation.
In his enthusiasm, Thelonius refused to consider the possibility
of backlash from health zealots. If they were that concerned
about the danger of second hand smoke, they could just go out
in the lobby during the torch scenes.
It was at the end of the day that it became clear that their
boss was a few chips short of a stack. They were back in the
city, driving past the intersection of Flamingo and Jones. Thelonius
whooped triumphantly. Pointing at the street signs, his face
lit with an almost religious fervor.
“That’s perfect!”
he screeched. “Flamingo Jones! The Vegas version of ‘Carmen
Jones.’ All the girls in feathered costumes, and Halle Berry
as the lead. She already played Dorothy Dandridge, so this won’t
be a stretch.” By this time, the boss’s eyes were rolling
like a pinball machine on tilt. “No, WAIT! I’ve got
a better idea. Forget Halle--she’s too Hollywood. We want
reality! What about that hooker that was with Hugh Grant? Anybody
know what she’s doing these days? And can she sing?”
When he paused to bat at an errant saliva bubble, Avis edged
closer to the door. Genius or not, she wasn’t taking chances
with a guy who foamed at the mouth.
“She’ll be perfect for the dance numbers. All that
walking she does, she’s gotta have great calf muscles. Oh--and
Ving Rhames for the male lead. Can’t you just see it? Avis
--are you writing this down?”
At the steering wheel, Jocomo knew it was time for immediate
intervention. Without a word, he headed toward the Strip. This
time, they were en route to Circus-Circus and the famed $5 all-you-can-eat
buffet. If they could just stuff enough mac and cheese down the
boss’s flapping jaws, he’d slip into a coma of carb-induced
sleep. According to the Elvis impersonator who bussed the buffet
tables, it was the only known antidote to desert madness.
©2003 by Gina Gallo.
The Gina Gallo caricature is ©2001 by Jim Hummel. The other
illustrations are from IMSI's Master Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco
Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA. The "Oscar"
logo and the phrase "Academy Awards" are the registered
trademarks of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences.
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