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"a fish, a barrel, and a smoking gun" |
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The Sleepsons
- Daily Variety, 4/21/98 Jaded types at the end of the 19th century believed that art and literature had met with an insurmountable obstacle: the finite number of subjects and plots. All the possible pictures and stories were already spoken for, it seemed, leaving nothing new to paint or write. Woe betide future generations, fated to churn out endless variations on the same themes! Today our very own jaded types chuckle with fond condescension at such quaintly gloomy prophecies of yesterday's tomorrows. Oh ho ho, how droll! And yet who can blame our starch-collared forebears for not anticipating such 20th-century originals as Duchamp and Duras - if not Vargas and Vonnegut? Who knew? Turns out, the old-timers knew plenty. As we commence the final countdown to our own fin-de-siècle blastoff, the cloud cover lifts and the rays beam down a pitiless verdict: There really isn't anything new under the sun. Worse: Our great-grandparents were right. Consider, for instance, what promises to be the last major new hit TV series (phew) of the 1900s, from one of the most unpredictable yarn spinners of our time. As shopworn plot lines go, Groening's Futurama setup is second only to the brain-switching hi-jinks of Mary Shelley - spiritual progenitor of Freaky Friday, Big, and that scary scene in The Muppet Movie, among far too many others. Shutting down in one era and rebooting in another is always good for a wheeze, or at least a gee-whiz. If he has any respect for History, Mr. Groening will spare his audience all the trouble of getting to know pesky new versions of stock characters, enacting yet another thinly veiled rehash of an oft-told tale. That's not to say he should scuttle the project entirely, but rather just be honest about materials. Go back to the original texts, Matt. There's plenty of life left in our pop-cultural senior citizens - they're just waiting to be given some meaningful work! Herewith, four episodes offered to the Futurama crew, completely free of charge: The Sleepsons, Episode One: "Washington Irving's Rip Van Winkle!" While wandering in the Kaatskills seeking respite from his nagging wife, the henpecked Van Winkle quaffs a stranger's microbrew possessing "much of the flavor of excellent Hollands." He promptly catches 40 winks for some 20 years, missing the whole Revolutionary War and then some.
The Sleepsons, Episode Two: "Edward Bellamy's Looking Backward!" Boston, 1887: With the aid of a hypnotist, insomniac Julian West beds down in a subterranean sleeping chamber built to keep out street noise, awaking in the year 2000 to a socialist utopia.
The Sleepsons, Episode Three: "Woody Allen's Sleeper" Health-foodeur-slash-saxophonist Miles Monroe is transported into the 22nd century, where he is called upon to settle matters of weighty historical import.
The Sleepsons, Episode Four: "Marco Brambilla's Demolition Man!" Cryogenically frozen since 1996, Sylvester Stallone is thawed in the 21st century to help nab master criminal Wesley Snipes and have hands-free sex with Sandra Bullock.
courtesy of Ersatz |
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