Читать книгу The Sadness - Benjamin Rybeck - Страница 6

November 10, 2007

Portland, Maine

Dear sir,

I write to you regarding my film, The Glazen Shelves, so forgive me if I stumble—whenever one describes cinematic artistry of the highest order, words seem inadequate. Nevertheless, I must attempt to convey the nature of my film, the end result being that you, justifiably impressed, will provide the necessary support to finish it.

To summarize the plot of The Glazen Shelves proves difficult, for the film’s greatness lies not in its story but rather its atmosphere, evoking the same decadence as Fellini, the same humanity as Renoir, the same dread as Haneke. It centers on a young man named Aaron, a resident of Portland, Maine. He goes to a high school where idiots surround him—wealthy idiots who imbibe spirits, ingest pharmaceuticals, and harass Aaron for not wanting anything to do with their foul preoccupations. Aaron, being intellectually beyond these people, desires some form of stronger connection—to be around somebody who respects him and wants to hear what he has to say, instead of being around his foolish peers, who don’t appreciate his originality and genius. Enter Natalie, whom Aaron meets and befriends. She is the opposite of those cretins who cram the hallways of his high school, and she bonds with him through a shared love of cinema. The film is an ode to their beautiful, pure friendship.

Now, as to the reason The Glazen Shelves sits unfinished: I began it several years ago, when I was in high school. I played the role of Aaron, and my best friend, Evelyn, played the role of Natalie. We shot roughly half of the film before unforeseen circumstances tragically ended the production. I had given up on the project, until this past May, when I saw the news of Darren Stanford’s success with Land Without Water at the Cannes Film Festival. Now that I have seen his film, I must reunite Evelyn and myself to finish The Glazen Shelves posthaste.

I write to you because, in addition to being an Oscar-nominated filmmaker, you are a Maine dweller, and you will feel an instant connection to my material. Furthermore, I am aware that you helped Darren Stanford secure funds for Land Without Water; clearly, you like to help Maine-based filmmakers (Stanford and I are both from Portland, you know). Fairness dictates that you also help finance my film, which, I must add, is far superior to Stanford’s.

Seriously, how could you have lent your support to such a waste? I expect more from you, given your association with Kubrick. Surely you are able to understand the difference between artistry and hackery. Not every day does a filmmaker emerge from Portland, Maine, which is the reason it’s especially important to choose the right one when the opportunity arises. You threw your support behind the wrong one. But worry not: I am here to redeem you. Helping me finish The Glazen Shelves will go a long way toward rectifying your mistake.

Now, as to what I require from you:

I require help securing funds somewhere in the ballpark of $4 million (we can sit down over a budget and discuss specifics).

I require 70mm cameras, sound recording equipment, and access to a first-rate editing/mixing studio.

I require a crew, although a skeleton crew will suffice. (Perhaps members of the crew you worked with on Little Children? Or if you’re still in touch with any of the people Kubrick used on Eyes Wide Shut…)

I require a letter from you, sent to the people in positions of power at Focus Features and Sony Pictures Classics, vouching for the greatness of my film. Or, if you believe the film festival route better, I require you to submit the film, on my behalf, to Cannes, Sundance, Berlin, Venice, and all the others worthy of my achievement.

On all these points, I am unbending, so if you do not agree, we should sever our association immediately.

Please let me know when we can begin our work together to complete my masterpiece.

Sincerely,

Maxwell Enright

Writer/Director

The Glazen Shelves