Who let the dogs out? The business is going to the dogs. These scripts are dogging me. The dog days of script reading. Whatever.
My boss was always on the look out for the next mediocre American screenplay. Even by his relaxed standards, though, most of the scripts we got were crap.
Then, one magical day, we received two scripts– President Dog and Surf Dogs.
Now, these weren’t written by the same person. No one was writing a series of “dogs doing things they shouldn’t” movies. Two writers independently arrived at the notion that semi-anthropamorphized dogs are what Americans crave for in their entertainment.
President Dog, as you would assume, was the better script. It featured a senator’s dog, who could talk. The first scene involves the whole family, dog included, sitting at the breakfast table. Like Family Guy, only not funny. Anyway, the senator has a heart attack while running for president. Naturally, his dog takes over the campaign.
Surf Dogs is slightly more realistic, in that the dog can’t talk. On the other hand, it can surf. Kind of a coin toss, really. The real problem was that there’s no surfing in the film for about twenty minutes (a kid moves from Jersey to Hawaii), and the dog doesn’t surf until page forty-five. I haven’t read McKee in a while, but I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with that structure.
Now, I’m a little less surprised when an Armegeddon and a Deep Impact (or whatever it is this year) come out at the same time.
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