Motor D Films

Whips, chains, suspensions, and plenty of nipple tape. Yes, it was a normal evening for the Motor D Crew at Wikked Trixx Productions show, The Anti-Pants Party, at the IROCK nightclub in Detroit last Saturday night.

Yes I was wearing pants, which is not normal for me, but that did not stop myself or the throngs of fans from enjoying the latest performance by the Wikked Trixx crew. A performance which also included the FX stylings Heavy Creatures artist and resident Motor D playmate of the month Dave Watson. Nuke and the Living Dead and perhaps the last show by Relik were featured and strained the levels of my camera mic.

I also was witness to the visual buffet of cool by From the Gallows Suspension Group, which stunned me, amazed me, and suprisingly did not make my skin crawl. Video from this event will soon be up on the site as soon as I am able to tastefully blur all the nudity as we continue to try to gain market share in the prized 3-8 demographic we covet.

(Editors note: Motor D Films does not infact covet any demographic of schoolchilden, though we do offer them candy frequently. Please stop contacting us Dateline NBC.)

There are several reasons why one would tire of this first initial bearing writer/director/actor. Could it be due to his pitiful inability to separate himself from his films? Certainly. Could it be his reliance on formulaic (and therefore predictable) films? Of course. Or perhaps, could it be his insistence on marketing himself as a brilliant, creative mind? Sure.

But I am not going to rant about those things here.

Yes, we have all witnessed, and perhaps have partaken in, the almost-too-easy-to-make complaints and criticisms of Shyamalan’s films . . . In The Sixth Sense: Doesn’t this doctor have other patients? Who’s paying for these house calls? In Unbreakable: Is it really believable that you could go through your whole life without ever getting hurt or sick and not at least notice that you’re unusually healthy? And would you really need to ask a loved one if you have ever taken a sick day? In Signs: These aliens can jump from a standstill to the roof of Graham Hess’s house, but they can’t kick down a pantry door? And, even though their weakness is water, they chose a planet composed of nearly 75% water for its resources? And, finally, in The Village: Why was a monster suit hidden in the floorboards of the quiet room where Noah would have access to it? And how would Ivy know what the claw of one of the monsters would feel like, since she has never seen one? But, like I already stated, picking apart the continuity and plot holes present Shyamalan’s films is not the subject of this rant.

The subject of this rant is M. Night Shyamalan’s shameless self-promotion, and how it really cheeses me off that everywhere I look, Shyamalan is trying to make himself into some kind of living legend.

I recently saw an except in Entertainment Weekly from the new book The Man Who Heard Voices, Or How M. Night Shyamalan Risked his Career on a Fairy Tale. Right away, I had to read the article. I found myself ensnared by the shear pretentiousness of it. For Shyamalan to honestly indulge in the idea of having writer Michael Bamberger follow the creation of his newest film, he had really sunk to a new low. I cannot think of any other writer/director who has attempted to brand himself like this.

Essentially, the excerpt from the book covers Night’s “historic” flight from Disney because they didn’t see eye-to-eye about his upcoming flick Lady in the Water. In a nutshell, bigwig Disney president, Nina Jacobson, didn’t “get it,” so Night cried and then moved to Warner Bros.

Warner Bros. bit. And now this movie is upon us, hence the reason why M. Night Shyamalan has been so in my face. And so on my nerves.

Shyamalan was recently welcomed as a guest on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Aware of my annoyance with said director, Frank wondered how I could stomach watching the interview. After claiming that I was gathering “material” on the man, I braced myself in front of the television. I only slightly considered that nothing could top the pomposity of having a book written chronicling the making of the film Disney didn’t want, and as annoyed as I was, Shyamalan did not disappoint. He proceeded to explain to Stewart that the story present in Lady in the Water actually began as a bedtime story he frequently told his children. This said, after a short peek at the movie: A flash of a teeth-baring creature that was a cross between a hyena and a dog here, a glimpse of a screaming woman being carried away from a swimming pool there. Seriously, a bedtime story? Or is it what M. Night Shyamalan wants us to believe?

I am now convinced that this man’s power to annoy has led to his success as a filmmaker. He generates “been there, done that” scripts (he has actually been threatened with a plagiarism lawsuit over The Village), and mediocre directing at best, so what else could it be? The insistence of this writer/director/actor to use his first initial before his otherwise complete name can drive people crazy, in addition to Shyamalan’s brash confidence in including his name as part of his films’ titles. And if that is not infuriating enough, just look to Shyamalan’s repertoire of films with their recycled “twist” endings, and how he pretends there is an honest message in each of these films. Pretending that he wants to transform the way we live and act in light of our fear is embarrassing. He would much prefer to transform the way he lives, with the millions of dollars he stands to make with each film.

I’m on to you, Shyamalan.

With all of that being said, considering I am very much in love with an aspiring filmmaker, there is much I stand to gain in light of these revelations.

Frank, I think it’s time to hire a writer (I heard that you know one) to document the trials and tribulations of your next motion picture, which, by the way, you cry over, and must include water, alien life forms, a cute little boy, and a twist ending a blind person could see coming. Oh, and we really need to work on that name of yours. I was thinking “F. Afterdark Levanduski.” Or “F. Teatime Levanduski.” You pick.

Rant Contributed by Double B Rebbecca