Last Saturday night I sat down to watch an episode of Afro Samurai, series 1, and ended up watching the whole goddamned thing! Addictive and beautiful. The mutant love child of the Wild West and Medieval Japan, with a healthy dose of cyberpunk. And Samuel L. Jackson - There's snakes on this motherfucking plane...of existence. Totally the best animated series I've seen this year.
And it reminded me of one of my favourite arcade games of all time.
Samurai Showdown. I hate to think how many hours and 20c pieces I spent playing that during Uni. My fav character? Haohmaru.
Oh happy coincidence! Here's an extract from my kids' film, 'Money Puzzle' to celebrate. Thanks girls and ghouls!
INT. CHRISTCHURCH AIRPORT - DOMESTIC ARRIVALS - DAY
Simon looks through the crowd of other passengers and spots the sign for the BAGGAGE CAROUSELS.He heads towards it but finds himself directly in the path of a contingent of five men.
Four are GOVERNMENT BODYGUARD types with grey suits and ear pieces. The fifth man is a SHAGGY SCIENTIST clutching a METAL BRIEFCASE which is handcuffed to his left wrist.
A GUITAR CHORD rings through the airport. It's an A MINOR GUITAR CHORD, loud and sombre. In response, the day grows darker, as if a cloud has passed over the sun, and the indoor lights ebb.
The bodyguards and scientist stop in their tracks.
A slender figure materialises from the crowd. She is around 15 years old, dressed all in black, in the style of a GOTHIC PRINCESS. Her hair is black and her skin is pale with black and white make-up that gives her a cat-like appearance.She holds a BLACK ELECTRIC GUITAR decorated with CAT HIEROGLYPHICS.
Half a dozen other GOTHS join her, all athletically built men who are dressed in a manner reminiscent of EGYPTIAN WARRIORS. They surround the government contingent.
DAMSEL DESPAIR
(melodramatically)
I am Damsel Despair and these are my Dragoons of Doom.
Despair points a black-nailed finger at the scientist.
DAMSEL DESPAIR (CONT'D)
We are here for the Sonic Superconductor. Resistance is utterly pointless.
Simon watches, fascinated, as the bodyguards draw their handguns.
BODYGUARD 1
We are on official government business and unless you stand aside...
BODYGUARD 2
...we will officially have to hurt you, girlie.
Despair gives them a desolate smile of utmost melancholy and strums her guitar. A MINOR CHORD ripples through the air. The SOUND WAVES wash over the bodyguards and the surrounding crowd.Those touched begin to wilt with the sadness of the sound. Despair plays two more chords, both MINOR. Everyone in the area, with the exception of Simon and the Goths, drops despairingly to their knees and curls up in a FOETAL POSITION on the floor. Despair looks curiously at Simon for a moment, then waves her Goths forward.
DAMSEL DESPAIR
Dragoons of Doom, it is time for the world to feel the wintery embrace of despair.
As the Goths close in on the prone scientist, a new voice booms through the airport.
BOOMING VOICE
Not so fast, Damsel Despair!
In runs a brightly costumed man accompanied by an OFF-SCREEN FANFARE of TRUMPETS. He is tall, handsome and his heroic grin is cheesier than Cheddar. He wears a flowing GOLDEN CAPE and a tight-fitting superhero costume which has superlatives like AMAZING, ASTOUNDING, FANTASTIC and WONDERFUL written all over it.
He poses beside the sobbing scientist, his chest thrust out so as to present the giant S on his chest. The light in the area brightens again with his arrival.
DAMSEL DESPAIR
(flatly)
SuperlativeMan. How depressing.
SUPERLATIVE MAN
Your dismal designs of domination are defunct, Damsel Despair!
DAMSEL DESPAIR
I tend to disagree.
Despair wind-mills her arm, strikes three MINOR CHORDS, and then performs a languid DESCENDING MINOR SCALE. Shadowy waves of depression roll out from her guitar and wash over SuperlativeMan.The superhero buckles a little, losing his perkiness under this assault.
SUPERLATIVE MAN
(straining, through gritted teeth)
Got. To. Resist. Melancholic. Emanations.
DAMSEL DESPAIR
Bow to the bleakness, super sad guy.
Superlative Man stands upright again and produces a dazzling grin.
SUPERLATIVE MAN
Ha! Your pensive powers have no effect on me, siren of sorrow.
DAMSEL DESPAIR
Dragoons, get him!
The Dragoons of Doom charge at SuperlativeMan.
SUPERLATIVE MAN
Prepare to be cheered up, party poopers!
The Dragoons are heroically knocked down with a series of exaggerated punches and kicks. Each strike is accompanied by a THWACK, KAPOW, PAFF or SHAZAM which appears in the air in spiky, brightly coloured bubbles. In moments the Dragoons are unconscious on the ground.
A dismayed Damsel Despair grabs Simon and holds a BLUE TUNING FORK to his head. Simon is suitably scared.
DAMSEL DESPAIR
Back off Superlative Man, or the boy gets a fatal dose of the blues.
SUPERLATIVE MAN
(confidently)
Fear not, my boy. And hold very still.
Superlative Man fixes Damsel Distress with a gaze so twinkling that it would shame Santa Claus and produces the widest of grins yet. His teeth sparkle and a beam of sunlight projects from his smiling face onto Despair's face. A horrified Despair is lit up, all over, like a sparkling disco ball. She stumbles backwards. Before Simon's astounded eyes, she transforms from a Gothic Princess into a Barbie Girl with a bright, summer dress and flowers in her hair. Despair looks at herself and crumbles to the floor.
DAMSEL DESPAIR
Noooo! The happiness. Please make it stoooop!
SUPERLATIVE MAN
Haha! Another victory for the forces of gregarious gaiety!
Another voice cuts through the scene.
DIRECTOR (O.S.)
And cut!Chip O'Toole, that was beautiful!
Superlative Man, AKA CHIP O'TOOLE, grins broadly. Around him the Scientist, the Dragoons, the Bodyguards, and the Crowd all get up and go about their 'between scenes' business.
I continue to thwack through the jungles of dross in search of animated treasure. The score this time? One win. One loss.
The win?
Paprika, written by Seisha Minakami and Satoshi Kon. A surreal and disturbing dream romp. Beautifully written and executed. I haven't come across a movie that's so aptly captured the conventions (yes, there are many) and intuitive fluidity of dreams and nightmares.
The loss?
Arthur and The Invisibles written by Luc Besson and Celine Garcia. A shame. I generally love Besson's work (The Fifth Element and Leon). And creatively and visually The Invisibles was funky and beautiful. It's just the script pandered far too much to the star cameos. And playing Freddie Highmore and Madonna together as romantic leads was all wrong, wrong, wrong.
Monster's Brawl. The best Halloween I've had in a very long time. The wrestling was ferocious and theatrically brutal, just the way I like it. Well done Liger, great form on those high speed elbow drops - but abandoning your tag team member in the ring to be pummelled thrice by the opposition. What a cad!
And the Pirate City Rollers put on a gruelling and gruesome show. The Hells Belles dealt to the Deadutantes 121-100. The brass fanfare goes to Lucy in Disguise who managed to score an astounding 18 points in one jam for the Hells Belles.
Sheisse Minnelli was sent off for some high flying blocking out of play (naughty girl), and Bad Jelly and Pieces of Hate both put their bodies on the line for out fair and fearsome sport. Get well soon girls!
Thrills and spills a-gore. A brilliant 31st of October.
Okay, admittedly I haven't just been typing away like a rabid baboon. Here's what I've been getting up to in my spare time. Yes, I'm the zombie in the red top hat.
One very busy tap-typing monkey at the moment. Pulled in all different directions by the ancient Cthulian gods, Commitment and Deadline. Busy is good though, and when it's writing, Roller Derby and family, I can't really complain.
Still, this James Jean illustration sums it up nicely methinks.
Dwine has left the soap mines and has repaired to his tree infested lair to refine and craft soap and his own tangy and twisted varieties of cheese in happy, stir-crazy solitude. Dwine hasn't been outside yet today.
All work and no play All work and no play All work and no play All work and no play All work and no play All work and no play All work and no play makes Dwine...
Jests, japes and chicanery. If one can have a jar of capers (Dwine has one in his magical cooling box), can one also have a jar of hi-jinx?
It's time Dwine went out and frolicked in the forest for a spell.
The notions and machinations of a writer who likes to dwell in the dark and treacherous gorges and ravines of pop culture. The Fiction Engine is powered by fantasy juice and liquid nightmare. Ride it at your peril...moo ha ha.
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