Keenness Unbidden

After the long, cold figurative winter of this long, cold factual winter, Our Diminutive Enterprise has at long last generated a new helping of its dreaded content. The thing's title was yet, last I checked, an amorphous and ever vermicular thing, somehow attempting to frame the subtitle 'Snow Fracturing' around a name sounding convincingly like that of some kind of "artist spotlight"-type TV special. I think in the end we evoked the BBC in some way in a bid to lend it an air of legitimacy. Anyway, it's there.

This one follows something slightly different from our usual approach to short-making, in that Kyle basically just galavanted out into the first substantial snow of the season, Ruggles in tow, and proceeded to film him in the process of dicking around in the cold for a few hours. After the fact, in true documentary fashion, he cobbled together what footage could be used to construct something approaching a coherent narrative, while we had the fun of working to come up with a narration that fit the scene and included the requisite funny or subversive elements. It was sort of a neat exercise to take a silent montage and try to make it something more interesting than an iMovie-style stock clip of a guy making, and subsequently unmaking, a snowman.

Actually, this seems more Windows Movie Maker's bag

I actually rather cotton to the finished product, for a few reasons. First, I believe this is the first of our skits that is filmed extensively outside; the sparse winter landscape affords us a slightly different looking video, and it serves as a fittingly bleak disruption of our fortnights-long stretch of inactivity. Second, with free time at such a premium that our other, more ambitious ideas need necessarily be put on indefinite hold, it's refreshing to have such an impromptu skit evolve purely out not nothing. The serviceable David Attenborough approximation lends a quasi-authentic documentary feel to this nonsensical tangent. It's also good for the ol' self worth that I can claim contributor credit to something other than logging yet more hours into motherfucking Civilization V for another month straight.

Now, I'm nowhere near pretentious enough to start dropping names of obscure artists just for the sake of it, but it's a non-issue because I'm nowhere near cultured enough to know a lot of them in the first place. But, this video having ended up as it did being a sort of mockumentary of a nonexistent artist, I fancy I should mention some of the actual artistic influences that have only recently begun to penetrate the benighted but safely insulated sum of my lifetime experience.

For one, it was in recent months that I became aware of the works of Kim Miru, who has instantly become one of my heroes. Her uniquely intrepid method of on-site photography did provide some inspiration for our own artists' (admittedly comparatively malevolent) approach. What with my enduring affinity for all things forsaken and dilapidated it is easy to see why I would be so drawn to Kim's work; her Naked City Spleen collection appeals to the parts of my brain long starved on a steady diet of mediocre web comics (at least since Achewood ended) and gambling addiction, and I'm happy to know it exists. It's a special kind of thing, and you should give it a look.

Further, on a recent and disappointingly Miru-less trip to the Leeum museum in Seoul, I did learn of another artist whose showcase immediately appealed to my sensibilities in a Way or two. While perusing the lower levels of a modern art exhibit floor, one of those big, blinking electro-mechanical signboard caught my eye. It was one of those old, programmable LED display boards that refreshes itself with a different image at regular intervals, like they used to have at sports stadiums before they invented those machines that transmit holographic shame simulators directly into your brian. The lonesome artifact roused itself with a grinding mechanical tumult, and with the pass of its refresh bar there was spelled out this message:

"YOU ARE TRAPPED ON THIS EARTH SO YOU WILL EXPLODE."

Naturally, I immediately took a shine to this sign, this message spoke to me. I can always appreciate a signboard ready to lay down some unsolicited truth. I looked into it and found the creator to be one Jenny Holzer, whose portfolio also spans the gamut from nifty to brilliant. I bet if Harold ever finds out about her, he too will have found his foot in the door to the wild world of conceptual art.

The End of Proper Villains; Say Hello to The Bidwillii Bros.

Some time ago, we showcased a skit, one of many of ours fitting snugly in the "abortive joke" sub genre. In it was featured a man of vague ethnic parentage whose undefined but seemingly dearth-influenced culture, we decided (owing to one of our better but purely accidental instances of impromptu backstory), places inordinate emphasis on over-sized objects as a form of humor; shoes, stock animals, pinecones, and so on. Regarding the latter, our stock fish-out-of-water foreign character posed the question to his erstwhile conversational partner: "What kind of tree is making such huge pinecone?"

Well apparently, life imitates our meager art: there are, we have discovered, indeed such things as produce massively oversized pinecones, and they go by either the mundane name of bunya pines, or the aggressively delightful name of Araucaria bidwillii. With this revelation in mind (and surely, there will be little else that will be able to occupy it for the near future), I am announcing the official renaming of The Proper Villains to The Bidwillii Bros.

Expect varied and drastic measures to promote ourselves under the new and improved monicker; a haunting trademark will soon adorn coffee mugs, t shirts, and soon too, hopefully, everything from cell phone skins to feminine hygiene products. So frenzied shall be the attempt to propagate our name, for naught but the sheer love of the featured word, that I predict there will be no recourse ultimately but to stage a massive press conference, wherein our brief but forgivable careers will culminate in a stunning and audacious live-broadcast wherein we stand at three points on a stage and simultaneously shoot each other fatally, to ensure that we never live to dishonor the name.

The sincerest fact of the matter is that we, like in all endeavors, conducted no research nor cogitated in advance on any significant portion of the script, such as it was. Indeed, even on those few days where we can devote our spare time to rewrites and editing, most of it is occupied by Nick having to comb each page for and to remove the many passive-aggressive barbs I unvaryingly direct at our director and actors in each script, subtly slipped into the slug and action lines on every page. Think, INT.- JUSTIN'S FETID APARTMENT or Suddenly, Kyle's corpselike visage assails the screen. It's pretty great.

A minor aside is how happy I am that, after nothing short of hours of cajoling, I finally managed to compel Écouter Kyle to begin an otherwise innocuous scene with a stifling moment of black lead-in, followed by a Law & Order-style metal-clang "shocking" sound effect, something I have wanted to accomplish for ages. Basically I'd start a kid's show like that.

Sadly, there was to my infinite chagrin, no eerie turn-of-the-century harmonica-laden blues music featuring a gravel-voiced old black vocalist to play in the background, which I thought would be somehow ideal for this scene. At least, until the "troubles" begin at about 2:25, at which point we were delighted to find that Final Cut Pro supplied us with an ideal stock recording of a humming bird supping on a flower's nectar. Perhaps someday, should we be supplied something suitably public domain (probably very doable, given the anachronistic nature of my mad master vision) a director's cut type edition can happen.

I'm not really sure why the "big pinecone" guy made his debut as part of this strangely meta joke about editing one of our own films, but I can only assume it was a desperate conflation of several ideas caused by the pressure of having absolutely no time to devote to these things. What other mischief I might have deemed an ideal vehicle for the guy I'm not sure, but I distinctly remember at one point entertaining a primitive scenario wherein this character had some kind of voyeuristic obsession with watching people prepare pancakes, so maybe having him vapor-lock in this oddball non-sequitur is just as well.

Good night, and good luck.

--Keith R.