A conversation between Michael Bay and a screenwriter

26 06 2009

The screenwriter (We’ll call him Gary), waits in Michael Bay’s office in downtown Los Angeles.  His script tucked under his arm, he gazes out the floor-to-ceiling window, soaking in the glamour-filled quagmire that is the City of Angels.  Suddenly, a Blackhawk helicopter comes into view!  The chopper turns, facing the window, and in addition, a panic-stricken Gary.  Over the roar of the rotors, he hears Bay’s voice boom from the loudspeaker attached to the front of the Blackhawk.

Bay: You might want to move aside, man!

Gary dives to the right as the Blackhawk almost immediately opens fire, spraying the window with bullets, shattering the large pane of glass, sending the shards tumbling down to the streets below.  The sounds of car tires screeching, metal crunching together as the innocent drivers crash into one another.  The chopper turns, the door on the side sliding open, and Michael Bay jumping from the Blackhawk into the office, tucking into a ball and rolling in, his body slamming against the wall.  He stands, brushing himself off as the chopper leaves, ascending into the sky.  Gary is cowering in the corner, his script clutched tightly to his chest.  Bay turns and sees the aspiring writer.  His mouth cracks into a wide grin.

Bay: Pretty badass, huh?

Gary: Y-yes sir, Mr. Bay.

Bay: Please, call me sir.

Bay helps Gary up to his feet.

Bay: Or you can call me Mr. Awesome, whatever.

Gary: …Okay…sir.

Bay: Alright, so you’re my 3 o’ clock, right?

Bay breaks into a fast run, jumping and sliding across his desk, landing effortlessly into his office chair, the upholstery decorated with explosions and the words “BOOM”, “POW”, and images of scantily-clad women.

Gary: I…uh, like your chair, sir.

Bay: Oh yeah?  Got it custom made.  All the chicks on there are modelled after Megan Fox.  Used to be Liv Tyler, but was so 1998, you know?

Gary: Sure, yeah, that’s when you directed Armageddon.

Bay: (Irate) Directed?  Directed?!  (Punches wall) I did not direct Armageddon!  I was Armageddon!

Gary: R-right, sorry…

Bay: So tell me what you got for me.

Gary: Well, sir, it’s a coming-of-age story about a young boy growing up in the suburbs of Clevela…

Bay: Are there explosions?

Gary: What?

Bay: Are there any explosions in your script?

Gary: Well…no, sir.  I was thinking that this would be a tight, small drama, with a minimal budget.

Bay: (Nearly choking on his own tongue) Minimal…budget?

Gary: Yes sir.  There’s no need for an explosion…

Bay: (Slams fist on table) No!  There needs to be an explosion, dammit!  How’s the father die?

Gary: (Flipping through the script) No one really dies, sir…

Bay: So you scheduled a meeting with me, Michael Bay, Mr. Awesome himself, to go over a script, where there’s no explosions and no deaths.

Gary: Yes sir, I thought you might want to branch out, do something outside of your comfort zone, maybe present a challenge to yourself…

Bay: Don’t you patronize me!

Gary: I don’t really think that’s the correct usage of that verb, Mr. Bay…

Bay: Awesome!  Mr. Awesome!  (Flips desk, then pours gasoline over it, lighting it on fire) Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, Mr. I’m-Too-Good-To-Have-An-Explosion-In-My-Screenplay?!

Gary: (Deep breath) Fine…I think you’re a hack, a guy who has yet to grow out of the late 90’s mindset that big explosions, massive T&A, and minimal plot are what the people of the world want to see.  Yes, there will always be a need for that in entertainment, but when your plotlines are so simplistic a 2-year old can create a better story, a smarter man would realize that maybe, just maybe he should push himself a little harder if he wants to remain relevant in the entertainment industry.  However, I doubt you’re ever going to mature into that mindset, Mr. Awesome, so I’m just going to take my script and meet with a director whose vision is not solely focused on exciting adolescent males.

Gary leaves, Bay speechless as the remnants of his desk smolder.  From below, we hear a lone voice rise up from the streets.

Voice from Below: Curse you, Bay, the shards of glass from your helicopter stunt impaled my Maserati!

Bay: Up yours, Bruckheimer!

And that’s my pre-review of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen


PS: Am I spot-on of my portrayal of Michael Bay?  Off-target?  Right in the middle?  Leave a comment and let me know.




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