Lost in the realm of the valley of truth and the fact of the matter that the movie has premiered, has screened, is over, is not over, is something I don’t have to think about for the rest of the month. There’s another short film waiting to be edited, just 10 minutes or so long—probably—but I’m not touching that stuff until 2025. You know how too much work all at once can produce a kind of anti-gravitational field to the work later on whenever you want to return to it? I dread having to go back over remastering the image and sound for Hasn’t Been Grounded and You’re Going to Live, but the final version of SATUR-19 is within reach.
The movie, like most, has thousands of shots. There are fewer than a dozen that require adjustment. Why? Because I ran out of time. Because we ran out of time—Da Boss and me. We were working night and day and it all came together. Except for those shots. I’m not telling you what they are. “Oh, hey, Monica, I saw the movie and it looked like a lot of shots needed fixing. Like, A LOT. Like maybe all of them. Stupid chicken.” Remember that song “Kiss Me Through the Phone”? That’s what I wish I could do to this commenter, only with a spur claw and a burst jugular. Jungle law does not respect the order of the food pyramid, so get in line and await your bloodletting, beast. I am ANIMAL!
That’s an Austin Powers quote, from the sequel, The Spy Who Shagged Me. Where has he been? Frozen again? Apparently he’s being unthawed by Mike Myers pretty soon: “I’d be surprised if a fourth one doesn’t happen.” Well, good. I just hope it’s better than Goldmember. Lousy movie. Gross. Gross, gross. Eww. I hated it. No, I didn’t hate it. But why all the—I don’t even want to say it. So gross. Just… something normal this time, please?
One of the many programs I’ve watched this week is called Animals in Nature: A Discovery Channel Journey. Despite the title, it has nothing to do with the Discovery Channel, I’ve no idea who made it, no one does, there’s no information about it on the internet. Some insane people in the Midwest probably made in the 1980s or 1990s—no one really knows—and forgot what they did before they went to college or the coal mine or the graveyard, working or sleeping, sleeping still. What about the people of Memorial Day 2000? How many of them are still around? What are their names? Did anyone lose their jobs or their marriages over that “movie”? Probably. If you’ve seen it, you’d agree.
Another mention must be made of Monica Gayle’s starring turn in 1976’s Nashville Girl, a one-woman journey through the many circles of hell of the music industry in the South just after Robert Altman made his grand masterpiece in Nashville. Nashville Girl goes all over the place, but it’s carried entirely by Monica Gayle, and after some television in the early-1980s, she’s done nothing. I’ve read she’s alive, but otherwise, no information… if you’re reading this, fellow Monica, I say hello, and I love you and your work. Have a blessed day and night.
—Follow Monica Quibbits on Twitter: @MonicaQuibbits
