Auteur Filmmaking

When the solitary cloud moved past the sun, nothing obscured the piercing rays from firing down onto the Nevada desert, the merciless summer heat oppressing the film crew like ants under a magnifying glass. Perhaps if they had more common sense, one of them might have suggested rescheduling the shoot. However, “rational thought” and a “Rhapsa Pumpus film” weren’t phrases that went hand in hand.

“No!” Rhapsa shouted in his bizarre, impossible-to-place accent, “Molly, come on! We’ve been over this!”

She glared at him, something made much less threatening considering she was in a giant egg costume, her body trapped in a prison of foam and fabric. Only her face, arms, and legs poked out from underneath the shell. She had been tight on cash when she accepted the role of Sweet Chip in Yoinkus – Killer Assassin!, and she didn’t do much research into the director’s filmography. In hindsight, the film’s title should’ve hinted to her that something was off, but she figured, “Hey, it’s an independent movie. They’re always doing weird crap like this.” Little did she know just how severely she underestimated the extent of said “weird crap”.

“I’ve told you… so many times," she said, "that I’m going to pass out in this thing… and my name is Mabel!”

As they spoke, the scant few cast and crew used the break in filming to bolt for the row of water jugs. Mabel, despite wearing by far the most outerwear, didn’t need water. Rhapsa had her costume specifically designed to carry a gallon of water within the shell’s interior. A plastic tube was attached to the jug that ran through the costume and up to her lips, and it would allow her to drink whenever she pressed a button to activate the pump. The whole process was deemed unnecessary by most involved, and the added weight to the already heavy costume drained Mabel both physically and mentally.

“Oopsie, my bad! Still, I need you to do something about your walk. It’s like-”

“What? Like I’m moving in forty pounds of felt and liquid in the middle of a goddamn heatwave?” Mabel interrupted. “Was that what you were going to tell me? Because yeah, I think I can see where your criticism is coming from.”

Rhapsa sighed, peering past her to the only man who didn’t go to the water jugs. In stark contrast to Mabel, this actor was decked out in a full bodysuit of black leather. He held four whips – two in each hand – for multiplied attack power, as Rhapsa claimed. He also held a magical “ball of foreknowledge” in his mouth at all times, which allowed him to see the future. It was actually just a red plastic ball. The whole getup made him look like a gimp.

This was actor Liam Dobbs, and his role was the titular Yoinkus. Ever since the start of the filmmaker’s career five years back, Liam has played leading roles in his movies.

“We can go ahead and shoot my part,” Liam said, removing his ball. “I think she deserves a break.”

“Thank Christ,” Mabel said. “At least one of you isn’t a total moron… Could someone push me to my trailer?”

“Of course, darling!” Rhapsa said. “Bobbi!”

Rhapsa called over the crew member in charge of lights, his hairstylist’s fourteen-year-old daughter who really wanted to break into the film industry. Like it or not, this was her big shot. Upon Rhapsa’s order, Bobbi began to roll Mabel to her trailer. When the pair were out of earshot, Rhapsa spoke.

“Ah, Liam. Amateurs, am I right? Ha ha ha!”

Liam nodded, looking somewhat skeptical. “I just think Mabel’s a little unclear as to why she needs the costume, especially because she’s only wearing it in this one scene and neither of our characters acknowledge it in-universe. It seems a little random.”

“Random? Bah! I see Maddie is infecting you with her feminine wiles.”

Liam glanced to Mabel, who had successfully made it to her trailer. Unfortunately, her costume was so large it prevented her from making it past the threshold, and from the look of her red, panicked face, the zipper on the back of the shell was stuck. Feminine wiles, indeed.

“It’s obviously a visual metaphor!” Rhapsa said. “Maddie’s character has been shelling off her emotions for most of her life, but in this scene, she will open up her heart to the one she loves, you. When she does that, the egg comes off.”

“Okay… but what about that thing?”

Liam pointed to the other character in the scene – a white sheet suspended by wire with two holes cut out near the top.

“That’s the ghost of your father’s wishes,” Rhapsa said. “He is your final opponent. I added him last night to the script after the guy playing your original nemesis quit.”

“Wait. Jeremy quit? Then what are we going to do about that plot thread?”

“Dealing with your inner demons is a foe more powerful than any other. The idea is that if you and Sweet Chip can defeat this, then there is nothing that can stand in your way.”

Liam could’ve argued his point further, but he knew that there wasn’t much of a point getting Rhapsa to alter his vision. Besides, it seemed to be getting even hotter. Liam prided himself on his air of professionalism, but even he had his limits.

“Well… if you think it’s fine, then I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Ah, that’s the guy I know!” Rhapsa said, patting Liam on the back.

From there, the crew prepared for Liam’s big scene: He and the ghost were directly facing each other for their epic showdown, the camera was angled so that people wouldn’t notice that Mabel wasn’t there, and most importantly, the eighty year old boom op had the mic dangling just within the frame.

Everything was ready, but the hum of a distant engine halted production.

“Ha ha ha! That’s right, my little piggies!” Rhapsa said, leaving the director’s chair. “I have a surprise guest arriving!”

“No. No-no-no,” said Manny, the film’s cameraman. “What are you talking about? We can’t deviate anymore from the script than we already have!”

“Don’t worry your head, silly monkey,” Rhapsa said defensively. “This isn’t that kind of guest.”

And so they waited, each second passing by like an eternity as the driver took their time making their way on set. The Lexus performed a tight swerve as it parked, aligning itself perfectly parallel to one of the actor trailers. Everyone watched intently as the driver exited the vehicle.

Aside from an oversized cowboy hat she wore, sunglasses, and a duffel bag, nothing about her particularly stood out. She was dressed rather normally, as everyone was. Before any of the crew could question her sudden appearance, Rhapsa ran up to her, laughing with the pure joy of a child. Of everyone, he was by far the least visibly affected by the heat.

“This,” Rhapsa said, standing next to her, “is Ms. Jenny. She’s doing an article about this project of ours. Everyone, say, ‘Hi, Ms. Jenny!’”

Nobody replied.

“Just ‘Jenny’ is fine,” she said, her face still plastered with a blank indifference. “Actually, I would prefer if they act like I’m not here.”

“Really?” Rhapsa said. “Well, in that case…”

Rhapsa tore into his white sweatshirt, ripping it apart and allowing the mangled shreds to fall to the ground.

“It’s hot as hell here, everybody! Let’s get this done!” He pointed to Manny. “Action!”

***

This was the end.

Yoinkus and Sweet had faked their deaths, making a successful escape from the malicious clutches of the Malvagio crime family and absconding with their priceless ball of foreknowledge to the Sahara Desert. Yoinkus could finally move on and leave his life as a killer assassin behind, but before the couple could do so, one thing stood in their way.

Yoinkus stood diametrically opposed to his final challenge, the ghost of his father’s wishes (but not his actual father). They faced one another for two minutes straight as the cameras rolled, no doubt to build up the audience’s sky-high tension. The ghost did have lines in the scene, but since they were to be dubbed over by Rhapsa later, Yoinkus spoke first.

“Spirit, I know you never wanted me to be a killer, an assassin… a murder man, but when my father chose to give money to that orphanage of bulimic children instead of those coke-peddling mafia dons and was slain for it, I knew I couldn’t stand by like a yoga instructor doing the mountain pose. In the end, I needed to carve my own path with these four tools:

“Love,” Yoinkus snapped his first whip, “and passion.” Then he cracked another, “Tolerance,” Another crack, “and dignity.” After one final whip crack, Yoinkus got into his fighting stance.

 “Through this wild journey, I’ve learned that people can be bad, but also sometimes good! So… have at ye!”

Liam proceeded to frantically crack his whips around in a frenzied zeal that lasted long enough for him to sing a quick song.

I’ve gotta do what is right

Even if right’s hard to do.

But I’ll fight the good fight

‘Cuz I’m truer than true!

***

In the director’s chair, Rhapsa grinned like a madman and muttered, “Lyrics composed by Rhapsa Pumpus,” as the song reached its fifth and final verse.

“Cut,” Rhapsa said, almost too stunned for words. “That was flawless. I can add the lasers in post. All that’s left is the sexy kiss scene, and we’re done!”

Rhapsa’s exuberance proved infectious, as everyone else applauded along with him as Liam took a bow. Only two people on set seemed unfazed: Mabel, who was doing her best to stay cognizant, and Jenny, who had creeped up to Rhapsa to tap his shoulder. She whispered into his ear, and he, still high off the joy from finishing the scene, motioned for Liam to come over.

“Ms. Jenny would like to interview you,” Rhapsa said.

“Just Jenny is fine. Would it be acceptable if we conduct this in your trailer?”

“That’s fine with me if it’s fine with Rhapsa,” Liam said.

Rhapsa shot him a winning smile and gave a thumbs up. Liam and Jenny entered.

The trailer’s interior was a cluttered place. A miscellany of film paraphernalia was scattered generally throughout the floor, mostly just t-shirts or rolled up posters from Rhapsa’s previous works. Liam sat down onto a beanbag in the corner, while Jenny opted to stand against a wall. Still she wore that impassive face as she retrieved a pen and notebook from her bag.

“You wanted to talk to me about Rhapsa?” Liam said.

An uncomfortable silence took hold, the only sound coming from a few moths buzzing around the ceiling light.

“Correct,” Jenny said. “The infamous independent director Rhapsa Pumpus, your employer.” She took another long pause to finger her pen. “Responsible for classics such as The Buttered Songstress, Crombini the Zombini, and a critically panned biopic documenting the rise and fall of obscure political figure Alf Landon.

“For these efforts, Mr. Pumpus has garnered quite a number of telling reviews, such as: ‘This seriously wasn’t made on drugs?’ ‘A celebration of humanity’s innate incompetence,’ and my personal favorite from IMDB user StreudalMeister07, ‘Lol shit film.’”

“I think I get the idea,” Liam said. He sighed exhaustedly. “This article isn’t being made in praise of Rhapsa, but in mockery.”

“Well, what do you think of Rhapsa’s films?” Jenny said. “On a technical level, of course.”

“I’m just an actor. I honestly don’t know much about the filmmaking process.”

The corners of her mouth moved up, forming a wry grin.

“Quite,” she said. “Let’s take a look at what this critic said…” Jenny removed some papers from her duffel bag and began reading.

“‘Dobbs serves as an oasis of shocking quality amid a sea of incomprehensible nonsense, hampered only by his writer’s scripts.’ Glenn Kenny, New York Times.” She looked to Liam, past her sunglasses. “And I believe your director writes all your dialogue, correct?”

Liam nodded. “He does.”

“I also read through your history, and I was very surprised by your alma mater – Julliard. You studied drama there. I figure you must know a thing or two about film with those credentials. Am I correct?”

Liam put his hands up and laughed.

“All right, you got me! Rhapsa lacks natural talent, no duh. But he does get substantially better with each film. It’s fascinating to watch, truth be told.”

Jenny shook her head.

“It’s incredibly easy for one to improve when they start at such a low level. Rhapsa’s pushing fifty these days. You can’t expect him to make these movies forever, and when he stops, what will he leave you with other than a tarnished reputation? You’ll be a joke.”

Jenny twirled the pen around her finger rapidly as Liam sat there in silence.

“We’ve beaten around the bush for long enough. I’m no journalist. I’m a recruiter, and I represent an agency that would love to have you on board.

“Does Rhapsa know who you are?” Liam said.

“Hardly. I tried explaining to him over the phone what my intent in coming here was, but once he determined that I was a journalist, I couldn’t change his mind.

“Listen to me, Liam. This could be your last shot at being a real actor, and the good news is that we would love having you. We just don’t want you destroying our perfectly cultivated public image by working with a hack director.

“I understand if you need some time to make this decision, so I’ll give you one minute to decide starting now. Go.”

“No.”

Liam answered her without the slightest hesitation.

“Oh, come on,” Jenny said. “You don’t owe him just because he offered you your first role out of university. Look at who you are. Remember all the hard work you put into mastering your craft and tell me with a straight face that you are in any way satisfied working with one of this generation’s worst directors.”

Without changing his demeanor in the slightest, Liam rose from the beanbag, meeting Jenny on eye level.

“Do you think you’re hot shit or something?” he said. “News flash – nobody who’s taking this project seriously joined because they have delusions they’re in some critically acclaimed blockbuster or art film. We’re not here because Rhapsa is a good director.

“But do you know how we got all these costumes? How about the lights, the set, the water? All of that – right out of Rhapsa’s pockets.

“Unlike me, Rhapsa wasn’t born with his entire future planned out. His teachers, friends, and family didn’t expect him to amount to anything more than a garbage man, or maybe – best case scenario – a school janitor.

“Rhapsa busted his ass to get where he is – living paycheck to paycheck, scrounging for every dime. Every inch he gained in this industry was from his own dedication, so I’ll say it again: We’re not here because he’s a good director. We’re here because he’s the best director.”

Liam then walked past her and into the kitchen area.

“So, if your sole reason in coming here was to steal me away, then you can leave.”

He said everything sternly, yet without a hint of malice. It was like a parent explaining to a child why they were wrong.

“Would you like anything to eat?” he asked, but she was already on her way out.

Jenny left the trailer, and as expected, Rhapsa was waiting for her. She extended a hand to him, and without saying anything, he passed a wireless receiver to her. Jenny had given it to him before she and Liam entered the trailer. Rhapsa had been confused, but he played along. Jenny was hoping that, during the meeting, Liam would rip into Rhapsa for his incompetence, and with the mic in her pen, she would let him hear all of it. She figured Liam getting fired would be a good impetus for him to join her client.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Pumpus,” Jenny said. “I wish you good luck on the final stages of production.”

And just like that, she withdrew from the set.

Liam got out of the trailer moments later with a ham sandwich. He found Rhapsa in his usual place, the director’s chair.

“Rap?” Liam said. “You crying?”

Rhapsa quickly wiped his eyes.

“I was just thinking about that final scene. It really was your best performance yet. Anyway, did your interview go well?”

“Went fine enough, I suppose. Is Mabel feeling any better?”

“Yes. Midna quit, but we can just replace her. No big deal.”

“Brilliant! The change in actresses could represent how she has changed as a person.”

“Ha ha ha! You read my mind, you crazy sausage!”