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Burn baby, burn... |
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Written by Dotty S Parker
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Monday, 20 February 2006 |
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 Michael J Fox isn't the only one with the keys to the the DeLorean jangling from his oh so yesterday skinny fit, stone wash jeans. Through the power of the internet you can now travel back to a year ago next month (confused... wallow in it)... and peruse Dotty S Parker's slick, sweaty, ice cube desiring column from one hot day in Soho. While Dotty changes her skin tone from porcelain white to wife swapping beige in the Maldives, sneaking licks at the cherry flavoured popsicles the shirtless boy, Arias, sneaks her through the wire fence that entangles her detox boot camp, we'll just have to make do with what crumbs the divine Dotty gives us as a trail back to her buffed and vampish toes and wicked tongue....
A few short days of Apollo’s blessings and I have started to think upon the subject of heat. Besides thinking that a sudden shot of the old sun juice does not justify the number of knobbly knees and gay men’s chests I have been subjected to in Soho recently (okay, so maybe I am not complaining about the blatant muscle men competitions that have been taking place in Soho sq) I have been musing on the idea of “Hot”. Its no coincidence that one of the most popular gossip magazines that tries to emulate yours truly is called “Heat”. To have heat, to be burning with fire is to attract attention. If you doubt this check out a certain website called “Am I hot or not?” where strangers can vote on your “hotness” and the hotness of others (I myself have in the past tested whether my refined if stern features and severe bob rob me of a 7 out of 10, or whether anyone really thinks that Christopher Walken is attractive). And if there is something that is just as fleeting as a hot, sunny day in England, that is fame.
The industry is all about what is hot. Actors, directors, producers, all have a heat quotient based on how much attention their little flame can bring to a film. Similarly some film ideas and trends are hot in phases, soon cooling to a dull lump of noxious waste. Take for example the gangster film. Big in the UK for five minutes, then its heat was spread far too wide and now it wouldn’t warm the cockles of something that has cockles (answers on a postcard please). And to prove this, take a look at the career of Mr Madonna, Guy Richie. Hottest heir to a big fortune to come out of film school in a long time he has self-extinguished himself by making Cast Away with the Missus, refusing to have credits on his latest pic, and dancing around with the happy clappy Khabbalists. Listen to his ex agent, Dave Wirtschafter, do the bitch thing now: “Guy is not in the groovy, glamorous place he was then, and I think that’s just unequivocally interesting as karma”. The man has so little heat left, the agents won’t even use his smoldering corpse to warm their hard little hearts. Though blaming karma is a little unfair. I doubt that St Steven Spielberg who has survived disasters like Hook to have a long and warm career by always being Mr Nice Guy. No, what the fabulously named Mr Wirtschafter means is that he was hot and now he’s not. And part of that process of entropy (look it up boys and girls, and don’t let anyone tell you I don’t try to teach you anything) is believing the hype. Mr W on Wesley Snipes: “He believed he was a $15 million movie star. The market doesn’t reflect that.”
But who is this illustrious “market”. A little secret between such close intimates as you and I. The market is you. As with the Pop Idol of websites, “Am I hot or not”, the voting is done by you. Am I telling you obvious things (I can see you frowning at the back)? Am I trying to teach grandmother to suck eggs (though in Soho eggs is way too tame even if we are close to Easter). But think about it. How often have you followed the herd and seen the latest Clooney because he’s “hot”. Or have you rushed out to see Sideways because everyone tipped it for the Oscar? Who exactly tipped it for the Oscar? Did they ask any of us? No, a small man with an eye on his ledgers decided to spread the word that it was catching fire, and one self fulfilling prophecy later and you’ve paid your extortionate ticket prices to see a film that may or may not deserve the hype. But you are firestarters, twisted firestarters, so go find yourself a little known film that you can fall in love with, give it its rating and spread the word. Because whether its hot or not really comes down to you.
Another way of creating fire is to stir through the embers of a previous pyre and look for phoenix eggs. Harry Knowles’ Ain’t It Cool News website has a regular column by one of the smart men who pay attention to the trades and does a recap of what scripts have sold, what actors are joining which productions and generally what is moving and shaking in our little world. Read it. Patterns emerge very quickly like scorch marks across a dry wheat field. One clever little so and so even recaps the recaps. For example last week there were: ten remakes, three sequels, two spin offs, and four adaptations. Check out that list again. Didn’t mention original screenplays now did I? That’s because they don’t come equipped with ready made heat, that is added in the mix with an actor who believes he is worth the $15 million price tag he agent can negotiated on the basis of his last film, “Death Maker 3” (sequel). But start with a remake, an adaptation, a sequel and there’s that little spark all ready for the marketing and PR firms’ careful nurturing. And when we run out of unoriginal material, we start again. Because the studio executive is such a cold blooded creature that the thought of being near anything without a few centigrade of heat is enough to make him run back under the rock he crawled from.
But as my life long love William G tells me, “Nobody Knows Anything”. You are the market my sweets and you vote with your feet. So if the latest reheated and charred offering turns your stomach, find some bright new thing buried in an arts cinema the other side of town. Check out your local shorts showcase (yes, there is always one). Let them know what the market wants. And if it is Sideways, then that only goes to prove that nobody knows anything, even the divine Dotty. Now I am going to go vote with my feet by going shopping for some new sling-backs and saris. Because even if this heat wave is a passing thing, Dotty is hot enough for the whole of Soho.
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