Reality Matters_ 19 Writers Come Clean About the Shows We Can't Stop Watching - Anna David [65]
“Cut! Cut! Cut!”
The director has stopped concealing his annoyance. It is probably the tenth time we’ve tried this shot. All I am required to do is rise from my slumber and go to the door. The same firemen who rescued me a couple months ago are behind the door. I keep messing up the scene, even though I have no speaking parts.
“Quit looking at the fucking camera!”
I want to yell back “Quit fucking yelling at me!” but I know he has the moral and logical upper hand in this situation. I truly can’t stop looking at the fucking camera.
I would make a miserable thespian. This craft involves stepping outside oneself and becoming another person. I’m horrible at imagining the lives of others. Plus, I can’t stop looking at the fucking camera.
We finally solve the dilemma by shooting from an angle that I can’t look toward without really cranking my neck. It briefly solves the problem, until the next shot, where I am taken down a fire escape. We perform this bit of dialogue:
ME: Oh my god, the fire!
FIREMAN: This whole block is going to go.
ME: Why?
FIREMAN: We can’t get to the hydrants. The levee has broken. We need to get you out of here. Now!
Every time I watch Storm Watch, I begin to remember more of the events from that flood and fire. I remember eating soup out of a can, and I remember standing in FEMA lines. The flames become more vivid, the water more treacherous.
But am I actually remembering? Or am I forgetting?
We live in an age in which large swaths of our lives are digitally recorded through photographs, video, audio, and text. This seems to have somehow tricked us into believing our memories have also improved.
But now that I think about it, maybe my nemesis didn’t steal my memories. Maybe I gave them to him.
“What do you miss most?” asks Cynthia, with seemingly genuine remorse.
“My books,” I say without hesitation.
“Why?” she asks. “It’s not like you un-read them.”
“I realized something after the fire,” I say. “When you no longer have these things around you, either physically or digitally, you forget about them.”
“Forget?”
“Yeah, like they were erased,” I explain. “In used bookstores now, I still find books that I completely forgot once reading. There’s nothing around to remind me of them anymore, so I forget.”
Cynthia thinks about this for a moment. Her soft, inquisitive face reminds me why I’m on the couch with her.
“What else is on TV?” she finally asks.
“There’s a Cheaters marathon!” I cheer.
18
DOG THE BOUNTY HUNTER HUNTER
Neil Strauss
“MARK BURNETT IS READY TO SEE YOU NOW.”
“Great. Thanks. It was really generous of you to do this meeting. Sorry about all the phone calls. I just really respect your work.”
“And I respect your persistence. That’s why I told Meredith to give you five minutes of my time. So what’s your great idea?”
“Okay, here it is. Sorry I couldn’t e-mail it, but I didn’t want anyone to steal it. My show is called Dog the Bounty Hunter.”
“There’s already a show called Dog the Bounty Hunter.”
“I know. But my show is totally different. In my series, I hunt down Dog the Bounty Hunter.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“For his crimes against humanity.”
“I’m listening.”
“He’s a terrorist. He terrorizes people. These poor, confused guys who fell behind on their alimony or did a few drugs—they’re scared. They’re scared of prison and what’s going to happen in there. They’re scared because they made a mistake. And what does he do?”
“He puts them in jail where they belong?”
“He hunts them down like animals. Him and that fat fucking bitch and his redneck shitkicker buddies. They yell at these guys and tackle them and call them dirty names, and then pat themselves on the back afterward like they’re the second coming of Boss Hog.”
“And so you’re going to hunt him down because he’s mean to criminals?”
“No. I’m going to hunt him down because he thinks he’s better than them. I’m going to hunt him down because he’s a self-righteous racist on a power trip and needs to be taken down a notch. But most important