Happy Third Anniversary to Cinemaniac Reviews!

We’ve traveled around the sun an entire three times since I started Cinemaniac Reviews.  If I had to take a guess, I’d say that between all the typing, writing, scratching out, erasing, backspacing, and returning the carriage of my manual typewriter after each line of text, my fingers have probably done three laps around the sun, as well.

So I’ve decided to treat my fingers to another triathlon, and to treat you guys to a short screenplay. Well, it’s just dialogue, and it’s not exactly formatted correctly. WordPress doesn’t seem to like it when I cut and paste stuff I’ve written in screenplay format onto the blog.

So without further ado, here’s some dialogue for y’all to enjoy:

CONVINCING THE IDIOT TO READ CINEMANIAC REVIEWS

A Comedy

By

Alexander Diminiano

EXT. TOWNSQUARE

Two human beings are standing outside chatting, as they are both out on a walk with their dogs.

The more intelligent human being is to be referred to hereon as ME, because I am the absolute most intelligent individual you will ever meet.  Seriously, though, I am.  I’m like Einstein intelligent, except that I’m not actually.

Enough about me, though.  The other human being is a total dunce and will not follow my %$#@!ing blog.  That human being is THE IDIOT, who is an “it” and a deadly weapon to the world of film criticism.

The protagonist, known as Me, is on a walk with his two West Highland Terrier dogs.  Meanwhile, the antagonist, known as The Idiot, is on a walk with its two beastly, equally idiotic Dachshund puppies.  They’re so cute, but the West Highland Terriers are quite undeniably cuter and more respectful of their surroundings.

THE IDIOT
“Why do you watch so many movies?”

ME
“Because I love to write about movies.”

THE IDIOT
“Well, why do you love to write about movies?”

ME
“Because it’s fun.”

THE IDIOT
“How’s that fun?”

ME
“It just is.”

THE IDIOT
“No, it isn’t.”

ME
“Yes, it is, and it makes you a whole hell of a lot better at writing five-paragraph essays!”

THE IDIOT
“You seriously write your reviews in MLA format?”

ME
“No, damn it, I was joking!  It’s called a joke!  People like you need movies.  Ever watch a comedy?  They’re funny, because they have jokes!”

THE IDIOT
“But your thing just recently about five-paragraph essays was a bad joke.”

ME
“Fine, admittedly, yes, it’s a horrible joke.  More specifically, it’s a horrible one-liner.”
(changes the subject)
“Say, do you watch movies?”

THE IDIOT
“I never said I didn’t.”

ME
“You just think it’s ludicrous that I watch so many, right?”

THE IDIOT
“I guess.”

ME
“What do you mean ‘you guess,’ either yes or no, that’s what yes or no questions are for.”

THE IDIOT
“I mean ludicrous might not be a strong enough word for this movie-watching disease you have.”

ME
“It’s not a disease–”
(decides he’d rather ignore the idiotic comment)
“Look.  We can agree that I watch more movies than you, right?”

THE IDIOT
“I, for one, would say so, but the number you watch a week is so gargantuan you might have been desensitized years ago to knowing just how many movies you watch in a given period of time.”

ME
“Ha, ha, very funny.”

THE IDIOT
“I’m serious!”

ME
“No you’re not.  No you’re not, you aren’t.  And I know you haven’t seen nearly as many movies as I have.  But you know what?  That makes me superior!”

THE IDIOT
“Listen to yourself, ‘makes me superior, movies make me superior…'”

ME
“No that’s not what makes me superior, it’s the fact that I write about them that makes me superior.”

THE IDIOT
“Right, and all those people who obsess over Benedict Cumberbatch and whatever that John Green movie was on Tumblr are superior to every successful entrepreneur in the entire world.”

ME
“First of all, I think you’re talking about The Fault in Our Stars.  One of the best movies of the year.”

THE IDIOT
“Oh, come on.”

ME
“If you haven’t seen it, I’d highly recommend it.”

THE IDIOT
“Gimme a break.”

ME
“You’ve seen it then?”

THE IDIOT
“No, but, god, doesn’t that kind of trash just bother you?”

ME
“Trash?”
(notices garbage flying around on the street)
“Oh, so you’re changing the subject?”

THE IDIOT
“No, I’m not changing the subject?”

ME
“Wait then if you’re not talking about that soda can right there flyin’ around in the breeze–great breeze by the way, nice day out here–then what in pluperfect hell are you talking about!”

THE IDIOT
“That movie, that John Green movie!”

ME
“It has a name, you know.”

One of the dachshunds starts barking.  Me waits for The Idiot to do something about this.  It does nothing about this.

ME
(to the dog)
“Quiet, or you’re going to the pound!”

THE IDIOT
(to Me)
“He has a name, you know!”

The idiot dog continues to bark.  They just talk over him.  Meanwhile, the other idiot dog has no clue what’s going on around him, as is typical for a dog with an IQ of 25.  In his defense, this is the normal IQ for a dachshund.

On Me’s battleground, the two West Highland Terriers wait patiently to continue on their walk and chase more squirrels.  What cute dogs they are.

ME
It has a name.  And so does the John Green movie.”

THE IDIOT
“The San Andreas Stars.  Whatever.  Sounds like a football team, anyway.”

ME
“It sounds like a football team because you twisted it to sound like a football team.”

THE IDIOT
I twisted it.”

ME
“Yes, you did.”

THE IDIOT
“You’re telling me I twisted it?”

ME
“Yes, you twisted it, the title isn’t San Andreas Comets–“

THE IDIOT
“Stars.”

ME
“Well, whatever, you’re still wrong.  It’s The Fault in Our Stars, and it’s an excellent movie.  I cried twice when I watched it.”

THE IDIOT
(laughs out loud)
“You cried watching The Fault in Our Stars!?”

ME
“Yes.  Twice.  I just said that, didn’t I?”

THE IDIOT
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you cried.”

ME
“Why not?  It’s a touching movie.”

THE IDIOT
“Touching.  Touching, my god, to hear those words come out of your mouth.”

ME
“Are you being sexist with me?”

THE IDIOT
“Yes, actually, I am ‘being sexist with you.'”

ME
“I mean, I don’t believe in this “political correctness” crap that’s come up in today’s world, but that was some harsh sexism you’ve just enforced on me.  Boy, I mean harsh!”

THE IDIOT
(unapologetically)
“I’m sorry.”

ME
“I’m glad you’re sorry, you deserve to be.”

THE IDIOT
(shaking its head)
“I still can’t believe you.”

ME
“Can’t believe me, can’t believe me for what?”

THE IDIOT
“Because I twisted it.”

ME
“I can’t even remember what the hell you twisted anymore, why are you bringing this up again.”

THE IDIOT
“You know what you’ve twisted?”

ME
“What?”

THE IDIOT
“Contorted?  Distorted?  Bent out of shape?  Really screwed up?”

ME
“What?  What have I contorted?”

THE IDIOT
“Your life.”

ME
“Oh please.  You’re such a middle schooler.”

THE IDIOT
“No, I’m just an honest human being, and I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings.”

ME
“No, that’s what I’m saying.  It doesn’t hurt my feelings, because I know you’re wrong.”

THE IDIOT
“Prove it.”

ME
“Prove what?

THE IDIOT
“That I’m wrong.  Prove to me that I am wrong.”

ME
“Well, it’s a middle schoolish remark, you know, people your age don’t go around telling other people that they’ve twisted their lives.”

THE IDIOT
“But you have.  It’s different.”

ME
“It’s not different!  And I have not twisted my life!”

THE IDIOT
“You’re a film critic–god, why can’t you understand this?  You’re a film critic, okay?  Your job description is, “watches movies and writes down what he thinks.  Guess what?  No one cares what you think?”

ME
“Well, I think you’re wrong, and guess what, people actually do care about what I think, because it’s what I have to say–“

THE IDIOT
“And nobody cares about what you have to say.”

ME
“They do, believe me.  If you’d ever given a moment to look at my blog, let alone three minutes to read one of my reviews, you’d realize that people do care what I have to say.  They care so much and I’m so thankful, but it kinda pisses me off that you choose to mock my blog without even looking at it.”

THE IDIOT
“Okay, look–“

ME
“No, I’m not looking, I don’t care what you want me to look at, because you haven’t looked at my work!  I’ve asked kindly of you once, maybe twice, but it’s not like I’ve bugged you about it.  And yet you take the time to criticize me for what I criticize, while you don’t even care to look at what I criticize!”

THE IDIOT
“Can I–“

ME
“No, you can’t, because before I forget, I should also note that you made an error a few dialogue tags back.”

THE IDIOT
“What was that?”

ME
“You told me that my job description was…whatever it was you said.”

THE IDIOT
“You’re not even listening to me!”

ME
“And neither are you, I don’t see your point!  But whatever, my point is that, I don’t get paid for this.  I don’t do this for money.  I do this because I love it.”

THE IDIOT
“Do what because you love it?”

ME
“Movies!  Review movies!  I review movies because I like it!  Not because I have to!”

THE IDIOT
“So you really are wasting your time.”

ME
“Well, gee, you’ve just told me I’m wasting my time.”

THE IDIOT
“Because you are–you know what–“

ME
“No.  Let me ask you, now, how many horrible movies have you seen?”

THE IDIOT
“How do you define horrible?”

ME
“Just movies that weren’t worth the time or the money.”

THE IDIOT
“In my life, maybe about 100.”

ME
“How about since July 30, 2011?”

THE IDIOT
“So in the past three years?”

ME
“Yeah.”

THE IDIOT
“Hmm…uhh, I’d say at least 40.  Give or take a few.  I don’t watch movies nearly as often as you, so don’t be surprised by that number.”

ME
“No, I’m aware that 40 is an existing number.  Though I do kind of pity you.  My blog’s been around since July 30, 2011.  That’s three years ago, today.  You said at least 40 movies?”

THE IDIOT
“Yes, now come on, what are you getting at already?”

ME
“Well, you know, if one movie is two hours long–on average–and you’ve seen at least 40 movies you could’ve done without in the past three years–“

THE IDIOT
“Could you just hurry up already?”

ME
“–then that means, that means that you could have probably saved yourself 70 to 80 hours of your life by just looking at a movie review on my blog real quick before you went through the trouble of renting a movie.  Doesn’t that just make you feel terrible?  You’ve wasted at least three whole days of your life, plus an extra eight hours.  The things you could have done with those extra eight hours…worked late, gotten a night’s worth of sleep, watched four beautiful movies…I mean, I won’t even begin to tell you the purpose those three days could have served you, but god, eight hours…that’s worth a lot.”

ZOOM IN on the idiot, who is now expressing a face of pure horror.  It can’t believe it has suddenly been wronged.

THE IDIOT
“My life is hopeless.”

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