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“Survival is just a matter of logic. Looking at the possibilities and preparing,” Chuck
said, walking quickly with his unusually flowery tote down the theatre aisle.
I had no idea what in hell I was doing here. Chuck told me it was a “once in a lifetime
opportunity” and that I “would commit hari-kari” if I missed it.
Honestly, I had never heard Chuck speak so strongly about
anything, except perhaps Pixar. He is an
insane movie nerd, and all the time I’ve spent with him he has been speaking
about this film or that, this scene or that.
I like movies, but I have a life.
I’m not so sure that Chuck does.
We climbed over the black lip before the screen of the
cinema and I queried, “You never told me what this is about. What are we getting into?”
“I did tell you. It’s
a Purple Rose of Cairo situation.”
“And I told you, I’d never seen that film.”
“Simple. A movie
character sees a lonely woman in a theatre and he climbs out of the film to
spend time with her.”
“So movie characters will be spending time with us?”
“The second half of the film, she visits the world of the
film that she had been watching.”
“So we are…”
Suddenly, the world around me turns dark, almost amber, but
a hazy light shone through the trees.
Trees? How are there trees? And I would swear… I turned around and looked at a car behind
me. It is a 1967 Pontiac LeMans. It is supposed to be a bright yellow (how did
I know that?), but instead it is a muted grey.
“Entering the world of cinema, to experience it firsthand.” He gazed at me, eyes smiling, his hands
stretched out. “I told you, once in a
lifetime chance.”
A group of people came staggering toward us, as if they had
just suffered through a horrific battle.
“Really?” Chuck scoffed, “This is too simple.” As they came closer, I
could see that they wore everyday clothes, if an older style, but their lower
eyelids were darkened and their brows extended over their eyes.
I stare at them as I realize that a huge group of zombies
were cambering toward us, I moan, “No… not a horror movie.”
Chuck meanwhile is digging in his tote. “Nothing to worry about. We just need to be prepared. And I am.”
I shake my head in terror, “I hate horror movies. You know that. I can’t stand to watch them. And you put me in the middle of one? This is a chance I would be happy to forego.”
Chuck doesn’t even glance back as he reaches the bottom of
his tote. “Look, I didn’t know that it
was going to be a horror movie. But
there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Doesn’t everyone die at the end of this film?”
“Yeah, but it’s all in good fun. There,” he grunts as he pulls out a pair of
handlebars from his tote. Attached to
the handlebars is a scooter, which he drags out of the tote.
“What?”
“Yeah, I know, amazing, isn’t it? I have a friend at Walt Disney Studios. He let me borrow Mary Poppins’
carpetbag. You didn’t think it was
really my style did you? But you have to
be practical.”
“How did you know it would work?”
“This is the world of cinema. Anything can happen here.”
He sets the scooter on the dirt road, as the zombies pause
by the LeMans, looking for brains to chew on.
“Zombies here are so slow. Just
about any vehicle can speed past them.”
“Why a scooter?”
“You think a Ferarri could fit through the lip of the
bag? It’s big, but not that big.” He climbs on the driver’s seat, and indicates
I’m to sit behind him. “Besides, this isn’t a scooter.”
The zombies are but a yard away as he turns the key of the
scooter and I rush over to secure myself on the back seat. “It’s a Vespa. From Roman Holiday. You know, with Audrey Hepburn?”
He speeds off, leaving zombies in the dust. Other groups of zombies lunk along ahead, but
Chuck easily evades them with his Vespa.
“When you are in the cinema world, there is one other thing
that helps one survive, beside logic and preparation. And that’s imagination.”
“How did we even get in here?”
“I’m not exactly sure.
I received an invitation by email from an unknown address, but I don’t
care who it came from or what their purposes are. I could never pass up an opportunity like this. I figured that no matter who it was that
offered this to me, no matter what insidious purpose he had, I couldn’t say no.”
Insidious….?
“Ah, just as I thought.
He wouldn’t just place us in a Romero film. We’re in a series of clips. I wish we had the
soundtracks, though. We’re really
missing out.”
Chuck sped quickly toward a motel on the side of the
road. Behind the motel was a hauntingly
familiar house. “Psycho, really? Chuck, I didn’t come here to be stabbed.”
Chuck pulls over in front of the motel, next to the vehicle
with NFB 418 on the plate. He climbs off
of the Vespa, puts down the carpetbag and reaches in, pulling out a lavish,
shiny, samurai sword. “Nothing’s going
to happen to us. Especially here. Norman Bates is frightening because no one
expects danger from him. We are
prepared. Come on!”
We rush through the unlocked door (1960 was so innocent),
through the bedroom to the bathroom. And
there he was, Norman, dressed in his wig and dress, attacking Marion in the
perfect combination of sex and terror.
Chuck picks up a telephone book, and tosses it behind Norman. He spins around, terrified to see someone
behind him. Chuck positions himself,
samurai-perfect, and Norman attacks, knife over his head. Chuck dispatches him handily, with two
strokes. Then he wipes his blade off on
the back of his fallen foe.
“Now I know for certain who gave us this marvelous
opportunity. My arch-nemesis,
Corey. The only reason he would place us
here is not to frighten us, but because of his weakness. He has a shower fetish.”
Chuck spins around and begins to drag me out of the
motel. Suddenly, I find that we are both
in the bed, sound asleep, and yet we see the motel room clearly. A set of blades scrape on the wall, and the
wallpaper rips and tears, blood cascading through the torn openings. “Huh,” my friend grunts, clearly not
expecting this.
“Nightmare on Elm Street.
I despise this film, “ I murmur.
Although asleep, Chuck’s carpetbag is still on the
floor. He quickly digs down and grabs
two cans. “Here. Drink this.”
He throws me one. It’s a twenty
ounce can of Red Bull.
Suddenly, a man with a wide
brimmed hat, striped shirt and specially made finger blades hovers above
me. “You and I still have some business
to attend to,” he mocks me.
I watched Nightmare as an
older teen, and I stayed up for nights, frightened that my very dreams might
attack and maul me. I shook as Freddy
placed his index finger blade under my chin and whispers, “You are very, very
late for our appointment…”
“Drink!” Chuck yells, and his
shout startles me out of my tharn-gaze.
We both guzzle the caffeine-drenched beverage together, as I feel the
blade descend into my gullet…
Then Freddy, the blood, the
tears in the wall all disappear. We were
instantly awake. “Fast acting,” Chuck
quips. He grabs my hand , the sword, and
the carpetbag and we run out of the motel room.
Instead of the Vespa and vehicle, outside the motel room is
a beautiful, clear lake, surrounded by trees. “Ah, now this I might have
expected.” Chuck tosses me the sword, and I miss it, letting it drop on the
ground. I was glad to see that we were
finally in a color world, full of greens and mist. “I’m going to be busy,” Chuck says. “You need to keep your eyes open, and look
around. Don’t let anything take you by
surprise. And use that sword. Quickly, when the time comes.”
Suddenly, right behind Chuck, the familiar figure with a
hockey mask attacks him with an axe.
Chuck, displaying a physical confidence and swiftness I’d never known he’d
had, kicks Jason in the gut, then shifts and knees him in the face. “Where did you learn…”
“Behind you!” Chuck shouts.
I spin and there is Jason again, with a machete, pulling
back to strike me. I quickly lash out
with the Uma Thurman sword and before I knew it, Jason’s head was rolling on
the ground. I glanced over at the man
Chuck had dispatched, but Jason was still there.
My friend saw the shock on my face. “You didn’t kill Jason. That is his mother. She was the villain in the first film.”
I collapsed on the ground, dropping the sword, still
bloodied. “I’d never killed anyone. I
can’t believe I’ve taken a human life.”
Meanwhile, Jason gets up and attacks Chuck from behind,
using his weight to push him to the ground, beating him with hard, swift
blows. Chuck winces from the pain, then
pulls a switchblade from his pocket and opens it upon Jason’s unprotected
chest, entering his heart.
“You didn’t kill anyone,” Chuck breathlessly states.
I looked again at the decapitated head, hockey mask still attached. “Then what is this?”
“She’ll be back. They
all will. This isn’t our world, where
people die, never to be experienced again.
In the cinema world, the past always exists, and we can always visit
it. It never disappears. Jason’s mother is alive, and she can die, but
she will always come back, good as new.” He catches his breath, “Let’s go.”
We run through the woods, and find just on the other side of
the trees a huge bar, on the side of a lonely road. My friend smiles, “Let’s get a drink. If we’re
lucky, we might get a glimpse of Santanico.”
As we get a bit closer, I notice the gauche neon, in the
shape of a half-nude woman with the words “Titty Twister” beside her. I tried to remember what film I saw this in,
but it wouldn’t come to me. As we
entered, I glanced around at the large, open room and knew it seemed
familiar. As the door behind me
automatically locked and barred, I knew.
“Dusk till Dawn, really?”
“I know. And we
already missed the dance number. Damn.”
Hordes of vampires surround us, slowly approaching us. I hold up the samurai sword, ready for the
fight of my life. Chuck calmly speaks to
me, “Put that thing down. It won’t do
you any good here.” He is already
reaching in the carpetbag.
A vampire jumps over the bar and lands next to me, ready to
strike. I punch him in the face. “Chuck…”
“Just a sec.”
Two more vampires approach me from either side. I spin and kick them both in the chest in one
swift movement. Although I am getting
the hang of cinema world, this particular setting truly frightens me. I’ve learned a lot, but even George Clooney
barely survived this bar. “Chuck?” I
shouted.
“Got it.”
Just as twenty vampires were ready to attack us, he pulls
out a small stick, waves it and shouts “Lumos maxima!”
Suddenly, bright light shone over all the bar, leaving no
corner darkened. Vampires screamed and
collapsed, some melted, but all died, handily.
Chuck begins shouting at the ceiling. “Is that all you got, Corey? You lack just as much imagination as you ever
did in your idiotic reviews. You wouldn’t
know a good film if it bit you in the head and swallowed your forehead! Come on, which horror film can kill me? I’m ready for whatever you can throw at me!”
The dismal strip club disappeared and replaced with a bright,
clear, blue sky. I quickly realized
that I wasn’t looking at the sky directly, but reflected off the mirror windows
of Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world, with Dubai a thousand feet
below me. Only a few yards below me was
Chuck, stretched across a window, sweating, his breath labored as he struggled
with a panic attack. I climbed up to an
open window, just a yard above me. Once
secure, I reached down to my friend, terror in his eyes and shouted through the
wind, “Just one step at a time, Chuck.
You can do it.”
“I…I… can’t move.”
“You don’t need to have your carpetbag for this, Chuck. Remember, it’s cinema world. You can do it.”
“You can! Just try!”
Chuck, for a moment, went within himself, closing his eyes,
finding his strength. With a steel
resolve, he pulls a foot up, finds a grip.
Then he puts his hand up, stretching out his arm, gripping the window
frame.
And slips. The sweat
on his hands was too thick, and he couldn’t maintain his hold. He falls. A thousand feet. Well, perhaps twenty feet until I couldn’t
look anymore.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and the frustration from my
soul. “Okay, Corey,” I speak in an even
voice. “Yes, you knew his
kryptonite. He hates heights. I’m okay with them. I can’t stand horror films, but I love a good
action film. And Mission Impossible 4 is one of the best.”
I looked out the window, trying with all my effort to see
the smiling face in the projector’s booth far beyond the screen. “You won.
You proved your point. Now please
rewind the film and let us go home.”