milliways_bar | (no subject)

Carl takes the card, turning it over in his hands, "...Documentaries?"

Carl smiles
Because he's never heard of Today For You Productions, he nods as he turns it over, considering this.

"You distrubute um' yourself?" he looks amazed, "...wait-you're not from my time huh?"

Mark shakes his head. "No. It's 1999 back home. And let me tell you, it's -hell- to get theatres to take films not from a major studio." He pauses. "But, well, I had a film that really took off, and people liked what they saw, so I started distributing other films who didn't want to go with a major studio. The people who create and make the films get the money from them, not any sort of bigwigs." He shrugs. "It's a novel idea, even in my time."

Carl's mouth opens and closes.

But he recovers the fumble, barely and manages to stammer, "He-Hell yeah it is."

There's a twinge of envy in his voice, "Reminds me of when I was just starting out-but then again the only studio was edison's orange studio and this was before talkies o' course..."

There are numerous questions carl wants to ask him.

Mark -grins-. "That must have been awesome, being part of film just starting up. I've read so much about that, the ideas that got people started with silent films, and then into the talkies, and then colour."

Carl blinks.

And blinks some more.

"Color?".

The things that carl Denham could have accomplished with color, not just sound but actual color...

He's standing a little bit in awe, then he shakes himself out of it.

"Oh, crap. I forgot that colour's not out in your time." He facepalms at himself. "Here, let me show you." He rummages around in his bag and comes up with a strip of film. On the film is Angel, sitting by the Milli-fire drumming on the sofa. "This is what the film's like. I can't tell you the chemicals that make the colour, but I believe it's in the film itself and in the chemical combination."

Carl's eyes go wide.

There aren't any words.

reaching out a tentative finger he touches it just to make sure it's real, then withdraws.

"....Wow."

Mark waves it at Carl. "Take it if you want. It's a rather fuzzy shot anyway. That's kinda why I keep it as camerabag film. It won't be overexposed or anything. It's already developed." Yes, he's anal about his film. "Yeah, film technology really does advance a good bit from your time. Things are... rather awesome in modern films." He's beaming.

Carl accepts it without a thank you. Please pardon him-he's somewhere else.

"...the things...boy the things I coulda done on skull island with color..."

Psh. Mark doesn't mind. He understands the siren call of film geekery.

"Colour's awesome, man. Really. I should show you some films from my time. So much is done with lighting and shots, and things that you just can't -imagine-." There's a grin on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. It's almost as if he's talking about a lover. He is in a way. "Then again, black-and-white can have its place too. There's a film in my time which is all in black and white except for one red jacket, and the flames of a few candles. That was hugely powerful."

Carl shakes his head, "Next you're gonna be telling me that you've got stuff on film that doesn't exist. Stuff like-oh-I dunno-" He waves a hand distractedly, "A talking Lion...or lightswords, or-ROBOTS."

He's just seen Fritz Lang's "Metropolis" after all.

Mark smirks. "Right, right, and right. Granted, I know some people who -have- what you'd call lightswords, there's a couple robots walking around here, and, I think a talking lion too." He laughs. "However, they were all done on film not using the real things."

Carl thinks of the dinosaurs on skull island and laughs.

"Next you're gonna tell me kid, that they've made fake dinosaurs."

He'd love to see it all the less but still nearly becoming a brontosaurus pancake did nothing for him...

Mark smirks. "Yup. A film called Jurassic Park All about dinosaurs. They did it with machinery, I think."

Carl snorts, "Machinery?" Having seen dinosaurs in reality-or at least his reality-he feels he's qualified to judge, "I bet it moved slow like that fella Harryhausen's stuff. Claymation and machinery shouldn'ta gone far but if they did..."

He considers this, "...Do you make any documentaries with that kind of stuff? Dinosaurs and robots and fake things?"

"Actually, it was rather good, from what I remember." He shrugs. "Won a few awards, I think." Or maybe it didn't. Mark's memory's a bit vague.

He laughs. "Oh, no no no. I film what I see. The last film I made, I filmed my friends acting crazy. I'm working sorta on one about the homeless in New York, but it's not really coming together." He pauses. "I don't like a whole bunch of effects. Sure, I love to watch them, but in my own stuff, I prefer reality."

"You wanna talk real?" Carl's grinning, "Cannibals in New Guinea." He grumbles goodnaturedly, "The director I was working under my first time out had this whole sensational idea about it-playin' um up. I wanted to portray them realistically and the fella ended up winning an award."

He's unapologetic about tooting his own horn, "There's magic in reality, giving the world a taste of that is what I live for."

Hence the monkey.

"Here." Carl fishes a playbill out of his pocket. On the front in big letters is emblazoned KONG. With a picture of an ape.

and inside? a photograph of the actual monkey.

"Whaddya think of that?"

Mark beams. "Oh, I totally know what you mean. Real life's getting more like fiction each day. It films itself most of the time. Hell, keeping a camera in the loft where I live has gotten me some of my better footage, as strange as that sounds."

He takes the playbill, and stares at it, holding both it and the photo gingery. Careful, boy. Swallowing back the comments he wants to make, he can't help but gape a bit. "This is your picture? He's -real-? Holy crap that must be a sight to see."

"That he is." There's a note of pride in Carl's voice, "Strangest story ever how we got him, He's got a picture deal comin' up but for now we're putting him on Broadway-"

And Carl's voice cracks a little at that, but he continues, "King Kong, the Eighth Wonder of the world!"

The name might sound just a little familiar.