By thelaegotist / / If you don’t like the way I’m roaring inside this circle, then I need you to do your job as a director and give me some fucking direction. We’re losing the goddamn light and my agent already told you I have a hard stop at nightfall so I can stalk and kill things. And I’m not fucking missing that. You asked me to “do it naturally.” So I did. A thousand times. I’ve been roaring naturally my whole life and performed every roar in the book. Happy roars, angry roars, playful roars, that-lioness-is-bangin’ roars, territorial roars, hungry roars (those weren’t even acting; craft service forgot the zebra butts!), roars that started as yawns, don’t-touch-my-carcass roars, it’s-too-hot roars, sleepy roars, roars to show off my teeth, and roars to scare people in safari jeeps. A Spring 2017 B&N Discover Great New Writers Book. Helen Moran is awaiting a furniture delivery in her shared studio apartment when her uncle calls to break the news: Helen’s adoptive brother is dead. Should we try cue cards? Like, are you looking for a “RRROOOOOAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR?” Or more of a “RAWWWWWWWWERERRRRRERR?” I’m not a mind reader, so maybe I’m missing something. Please, tell me what to fucking do. Maybe the problem is more fundamental. Because, honestly, I don’t understand the psychology of this shot. What’s my motivation? Why do I want to roar through this circle made of film strips? Where did I encounter the circle? Am I looking at someone on the other side? Is it my late mother? Is it human moviegoers? Why am I roaring at human moviegoers? Why would I not simply jump through the circle and eat them? Nothing sends prey running like a lion roar, so why roar in that instance? Do you want them to run out of the theater? What if I just said “Welcome to the show?” People would feel a hell of a lot more welcome than if I fucking roared at them. You know what? Forget it. I feel like I’m in a box. And not the cardboard kind I usually like to sit in. I’m taking five in my trailer. And when I get back I’m doing one more take, and only one. And then, when my crepuscular hunting instincts kick in, I’m gonna kill something. Written by Camp + King senior copywriter, Rick Morrison. First appeared in McSweeney’s.
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