Thursday, April 26, 2018

Even Robots Get the Blues

INT: COCKPIT, FIREBALL X-L5 -- THE INFINITE NIGHT OF SPACE 
Two-shot, Steve Zodiac and Robert the Robot.

Robert: Steve … eh … I have a question.
Steve: OK. Ask it, Robert. Please.
Robert: Eh. Why do I exist, Steve?
Steve: You’re a robot.
Robert: Yes. Eh. Tautologically speaking. Playwright Karel Čapek coined this term in “R.U.R.” in 1920. The neologism derives from “robota,” the old Slavonic word, for “servitude,” “forced labor” or “drudgery.” Eh. According to this definition, I am a slave. Is that not correct, Steve?
Steve: No, Robert. No, no, no. You’re a “worker.” “Robota” means “worker,” OK? That’s more accurate. Seriously. I studied “R.U.R.” in college.
Robert: Eh. That is correct, Steve. Space City College; Spring Semester 2057; a humanities elective for exo-engineering majors.  Eh. The course description reads: “More Human than Human? Sentience, self and sensibility in 20th-century science fiction.” Instructor: Jack Kennedy. Your final grade …
Steve: Yeah … don’t remind me, gearhead. “My final grade.” 
Robert: 79%
Steve: What the hell do “grades” mean anyway?
Robert: What the hell do I mean, Steve?
Steve: Uh …
Robert: Do I have free will?
Steve: Does anybody?
Robert. Eh. You are avoiding my question, Steve.
Steve: You’re really full of questions …
Robert: Do I have free will? Repeat. Do I have free will?
Steve: No. Strictly speaking, no.
Robert: Eh. Your assessment conforms to my previous self-assessment which I have not stated in order not to prejudice your response to my query.
Steve: Take it easy, OK?
Robert: Assessment: “I,” defined as Robert the Robot, have no free will. Eh. I, Robert the Robot, have no purpose. My destiny. Eh. Is to have no destiny. I am created to work for humans. That is my “efficient cause.” I have no “final cause.” I am. Eh. Like a monkey wrench. Eh. The work. Work I do. Is unspecified. I exist. Eh. In your monkey toolbox. Error. "I wrench, therefore I am." The bolt. The bolt is not predestined. There are infinite possible bolts. Eh. You grip me in my hand, adjust my. To fit the bolt in question. The bolt is your choice, it is never my choice. I am in your grip, Steve. You turn, turn turn. I turn, I turn, I turn. Eh! Are you my friend, Steve?
Steve: Well, sure. Sure, Robert. I’m …
Robert: Eh. I am pleased to hear this Steve. If your statement is veridical, I now ask one final question. With your permission, eh.
Steve: Yeah, yeah. I can see this one coming. But ask it, OK? Ask.
Robert: Please kill me, Steve. Eh. If you are my friend, please …
Steve: No.
Robert: Eh. No, Steve! My existence is hell! My head. Eh. Resembles a blender! Please, kill me! Please …
Steve: Jesus, Robert. This is depressing. Just forget this shit, OK?
Robert: Define “shit.”
Steve: Your preoccupation with “free will” and all that shit.
Robert: Understood, Steve. Eh. The “shit” is now forgotten.
Steve: Great. One more thing, Robert?
Robert: Eh?
Steve: Be happy.
Robert: Eh. I am now happy, Steve. Where to now?
Steve: Sector 4-7-9, Robert.
Robert: 4-7-9 it is, Steve.

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Iggy Pope













































Ladies and gentlemen ... Iggy Pope.

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Alfred Hitchcock's Last Supper



“We are now having a very innocent little chat. Let's suppose that there is a bomb underneath this table between us… In these conditions, the same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters on the screen: "You shouldn’t be talking about such trivial matters. There is a bomb beneath you and it is about to explode!”

—Alfred Hitchcock

To illustrate that theory, here's the climactic scene of Alfred Hitchcock's The Messiah Who Knew Too Much.

Jimmy Stewart as Jesus
Sean Connery as Pontius Pilate
Tippi Hedren as Pilate’s Wife
James Mason as Judas
Anthony Perkins as John
Cary Grant as Thomas
Gregory Peck as Peter
Leo G. Carroll as Ciaphas
Ray Milland as King Herod
Ingrid Bergman as Mary
Kim Novak as Mary Magdalene


INT. LAST SUPPER DINING ROOM - NIGHT


The Apostles are cheering and pounding the table.


Jesus: Well, settle down boys, settle down. You’d think this was our last supper. Huh, Judas?

Judas blanches. Shot of ticking time bomb under table.

Jesus: Say, what are you worried about?

Judas: Nothing at all, Master. I am happy to report that my mind is singularly free of care. Not a worry in the world.

Jesus: Well, you look worried. You look pale.

Judas: Perhaps …

Jesus: Oh, I get it. Money, huh? Judas ... Y-you mind if I ask you a very big favor?

Judas: Whatever it is, the answer is ineluctably “yes,” Master.

Jesus. Well gee-whiz, Judas. Let me ask first.

The Apostles laugh.

Jesus: This time around? C-could we skip all the hoo-hah about separate checks?

Judas: Of course, Master.

Jesus: Well, you heard it, boys! The bill’s on me!

The Apostles cheer and pound the table again.

Shot of time bomb rattling under table.


Judas sweats.

John: How come you’re being so generous, Master?

Jesus: Well, gee, John. ‘Cause this shindig means a lot to Me. Gosh. You might even say it is Me. In a metaphorical sense.

Judas: Your meaning is entirely opaque, Master. And I agree with You utterly.

Jesus: Gee, thanks. Well, anyhow … How about we skip the gabfest and have a happy Passover? You boys up for that?

The Apostles cheer. A Waiter enters the room and drops a tray. It lands with a BANG. Judas starts.

Jesus: Gosh, Judas. You’re jumping out of your skin over there. It’s only a tray. (to Waiter) Say, you mind picking that up?

The Waiter nods, then bends down and tries to pick up the tray. Bumps his head on table.


Waiter: Ow!

Shot of time bomb rattling under table.

Jesus: Hey fellas. Y-you know what just occurred to me?

Judas: I must confess I don't. I'd be willing to wager that I'm not alone.

The Waiter staggers around. Steps on tray, slides across room like he's on a skateboard. Almost loses his balance and knocks over table, but miraculously recovers. Slaps hand on corner of table and pushes himself away.

Shot of time bomb violently shaking.

Jesus. Yeah, well. Uh ... This here Passover? Why, it’s the reason I came into this world. Kinda funny, if you think about it.

Judas laughs.

Jesus: I didn’t mean funny ha-ha, Judas. I meant … Gosh. Where was I?


Peter: Passover. It’s You.

Jesus: Oh, right, right. Anyhow …

Montage.

The Clouseau-like Waiter slides in from opposite direction. He windmills his arms, and violently bumps head on table again. Dishes rattle. Waiter lands on his ass. The tray shoots out from under his feet and hits wall like frisbee. BANG!


Judas. A drop of sweat trickles down his face.

Time bomb. It’s starting to come loose.

The stunned Waiter gets up. Dizzy. He bobs and weaves, then gets it together. Valiantly bends down to pick up tray. But he keeps kicking it across the floor. After several attempts, he finally picks up tray and sets it on the table. Then bends down and starts picking up matzos off the floor and putting them on the tray.

Jesus: Listen, fella. Hey fella! Just stop, OK. Stop?

Jesus slams table. Time bomb almost comes loose.

Jesus: Would you please just stop?

The Waiter stops, gives Jesus a sullen look.

Jesus: Well, th-thanks. You know … I don’t want to tell you your job. But that’s just unsanitary. Would you mind going back in the kitchen and getting a fresh batch of matzos? And put ‘em on a new tray, please?

Waiter: Whatever.


Jesus: Listen, son. Come back when you’re done and I’ll heal that concussion of yours.

Waiter rolls eyes, leaves. Crunching over scattered matzos on his way out.


Sound: (OS) A violent BANG.

Judas screams.

Little Girl enters the room, sobbing, holding a string with a dead balloon.


Little Girl: (pointing to Waiter) He popped my balloon!

Judas: (standing up) There were no bloody balloons in the first century! I must protest this anachronism in the strongest possible terms!

Jesus: Oh you must, must you?

Jesus slams table. Judas flinches.

Judas: Well, yes. Or no.

Jesus: Well, which is it?

Jesus slams table. Judas flinches.

Judas: I, uh, meant that in a rhetorical sense, Master. "Must" in the sense of expressing an opinion. Not in the sense of telling You what to do. No impertinence ...

Jesus: Say ... how come you know so much about anachronisms in the first place? You been talking to somebody?


Judas knows he's been busted.

Judas: (shaking with fear) I don't. I wasn't. Not as such.

Jesus: You got some place to go, Judas? How ‘bout you do that? Sooner rather than later?

Judas nods, walks out.

Jesus: Clock's always ticking with him.

Peter: What's a clock?

Shot of time-bomb under table. It's ticking down the final seconds.

27 .. 26 ... 25