Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 3
Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 3
“So,” Welles looked over again at Serena, “From where did Serena learn this ancient Egyptian spell that turned Belvedere into a ghost white salamander?”.
“You mean from whom?” Serena smiled seductively at Welles and licked her lips.
“From whom?” Welles looked at her quizzically, “You mean it was a person who taught her this spell?”.
“Let’s just say a being or an entity,” Serena laughed once again as she threw back her hair.
“And who is this being or entity?” Welles asked the blonde enchantress seated on the desk in front of him.
“It’s revealed at the end of the script,” Serena winked at him, “at the end of the movie.”
“But I notice the last few pages of the script are missing,” Welles held up the papers in his hand.
“That’s because I want you to take an oath never to reveal the ending of the script before I show it to you,” Serena brought out a King James Bible from her purse since she knew Welles loved the language of the King James Bible.
“An oath?” Welles looked shocked, “But my grandmother warned me never under any circumstances to join the Freemasons.”
“I’m not asking you to take a Freemasonic oath,” answered Serena who had recently seen a Vatican Cardinal do just that.
“That’s good,” Welles breathed a sigh of relief, “I don’t really relish the idea of getting my throat slit from ear to ear or getting disembowelled within stepping distance of the ocean.”
“No sane sensible person would,” Serena agreed.
“But how then are we to make this movie if the ending is kept a secret?” Welles looked at her.
“This will be the most unique movie in all recorded history, Mr. Welles,” Serena spoke in a whisper, “to go along with all the unique movies you have made. This movie will be released to the general public to see within a year of its making but its ending will only be seen in a re-release of the film several years down the road. You of course will shoot the ending Mr. Welles with your own unique style but the ending will be kept on a separate reel stored in a Swiss bank vault and released to the general public several years down the road during the film’s re-release.”
“What a splendid idea,” Welles enthused, “so splendid in fact that it’s a wonder I didn’t think of it…”
“You will, Orson, you will,” Serena laughed.
“So how long will the public have to wait before they see the film’s ending during the movie’s re-release?” Welles asked.
“August 2017,” Serena answered with a smile and a sudden flick of her classic vintage antique railway watch.
“That’s a long way aways,” Welles looked at Serena with an understated expression of shock and astonishment.
“72 years,” Serena did not bother counting the years down on her fingers and toes as she did not have that many fingers and toes.
. . .
Needless to say the chief executive of RKO Radio Pictures Studios did not look at Welles with an understated expression of shock and astonishment when Welles described the project to him.
In fact, the studio head had even taken back the cigar he had offered Welles when the young genius film maker had entered his office.
“A bit early in the day for you to be drinking isn’t it, Orson?” The studio head exploded, “Now get out of here and come back with a more practical idea for a picture.”
Welles hurriedly exited the studio head’s office.
As he left, he heard the studio head’s pet parrot say, “Squawk. You should drink no wine 🍷 before its time. Squawk. You should drink no wine before its time.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday August 15th
2017.
Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 2
Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery Part 2
It turned out that Serena was a screenplay writer.
“A screenplay?” Welles reached for her script, “And what sort of screenplay have you written?”.
“It’s for a Western,” Serena replied.
“Really?” Welles raised an eyebrow, “I was just contemplating whether I should make a Western. You must have read 📖 my mind.”
“It’s a great mind to read, Mr. Welles,” Serena smiled at him.
“Thank you, my dear,” Welles started to read through her script.
When he had finished reading, Welles peered at Serena, his eyes looking at her just above the script.
“So, let me get this straight,” Welles looked at Serena, “this Wild West saloon bartender named Belvedere is still a virgin at 45 years of age. He is propositioned by one of the recently hired working girls at the saloon/bordello (which Belvedere naively doesn’t know is a bordello as well as a saloon) to come up to her room above the saloon and sleep with her. When he wakes up the next morning after a night of passionate lovemaking, not only is his virginity now gone but he’s received a bill for $20 as the price of payment for her sleeping with him.”
“That is correct,” Serena sat on Welles’ desk and crossed her lovely nylon clad legs as she smoothed her skirt.
“Ah, those glory days of the Wild Wild West,” Welles smiled, “it’s considerably more than $20 for such services these days.”
Serena looked at him.
“Or so I’ve been told,” Welles cleared his throat.
Serena just smiled.
“And then,” Welles returned to the script, “when Belvedere refuses to pay her, she uses an ancient Egyptian spell to turn him into a white salamander. In fact a colour of white that was ghostly white in colour so he becomes a ghost white salamander.”
“That is correct,” Serena nodded.
“And then in a panic once he discovers that he’s become a ghost white salamander, Belvedere runs down the outside stairwell of The Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon and jumps into the Main Street of the town where he is promptly run over by a covered wagon heading west. He dies instantly and becomes the ghost of a ghost white salamander.”
“You’ve got it,” Serena threw back her hair and smiled at him.
“You know,” Welles sat there and reflected, “years ago when I was in my radio studio in New York City 🌃 and doing my final script reading of the Mercury Theatre On The Air’s War of The Worlds broadcast before it was actually broadcast over the airwaves, a ghost white salamander named Belvedere appeared to me and told me a similar story of what had happened to him. Later I just thought I had fallen asleep at the microphone 🎤 while rehearsing and dreamed the whole thing.”
“Maybe you didn’t dream the whole thing,” Serena uncrossed and crossed her legs again.
“I must say,” Welles laughed, “that I love the idea of the proprietress of this Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon where Belvedere works being Sherlock Holmes’ lesser known twin sister Sherrielock Holmes who’s a professional dominatrix by profession.”
“It makes for interesting reading doesn’t it?” Serena laughed.
“And for even more interesting camera 🎥 angles and close-up shots,” Welles mused aloud with a huge smile on his face, “I particularly love the directions in the script where the saloon/bordello’s new working girl Serena… say that just hit me now… same name as yours… has a classic old style railway watch that hangs on a chain down the middle of her bosom.”
“Yes, Belvedere really liked that,” Serena smiled, “he was always asking what time it was.”
Welles looked at her and laughed, “You almost talk like you were there.”
Serena just smiled and said nothing.
“Funny that dream… or what I thought was a dream the day I was rehearsing for that evening’s War of The Worlds broadcast back on October 30th 1938, Belvedere the ghost white salamander told me that he thought it was a gypsy he didn’t pay for sleeping with him who turned him into a ghost white salamander,” Welles recalled.
“It wasn’t a gypsy,” Serena pulled a classic vintage antique railway watch on a chain up from her blouse, “it was a time traveler.”
“A time traveler?” Welles smiled at her, “so we have a movie that’s both a Western and Science-Fiction at the same time?”.
“That is correct,” Serena put the antique railway watch back down her blouse undoing some buttons at the top.
Welles had noticed this action.
“I say,” Welles said to her, “you wouldn’t happen to know what time it is would you?”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 5th
2017.
Haiku About Godzilla RIP
Haiku About Godzilla RIP
This haiku is written in honour of Japanese actor Haruo Nakajima the man who played Godzilla in the first 12 original Godzilla movies that were made from 1954 to 1972.
Mr. Nakajima died yesterday Monday August 7th at the age of 88.
Haiku About Godzilla RIP
He was Godzilla
the monster whose voice was good
for marshmallow roasts
Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery
Orson Welles and The Woman of Mystery
It was August of 1945. Japan had surrendered. Hitler was dead. Roosevelt was dead. Churchill had been defeated in the recent British general election.
And Clement Attlee, Harry Truman and Joseph Stalin had met in Potsdam to decide the fate of the world.
And Orson Welles was busy contemplating the next movie he should make.
He was thinking of making a movie about the aftermath of the war.
But given what the world just went through, maybe audiences were looking for a film that wouldn’t be about war.
What then?
A western perhaps?
It was watching John Ford’s 1939 Western film Stagecoach over and over again that Welles had taught himself the techniques of film making when he had signed the unprecedented contract with RKO Radio Pictures to make 3 films for them.
But what sort of Western?, Welles wondered to himself.
His secretary walked into his studio office, “A young woman here to see you, Mr. Welles.”
“Really?” Welles looked out his office door and noticed a very beautiful young blonde woman standing in the reception room.
Welles stood there positively enchanted.
“Send her in,” said Welles.
His secretary motioned the woman to enter.
The young beautiful blonde woman did so.
Welles’ secretary exited and closed the door behind her.
“I’m Orson Welles,” Welles extended his hand.
“Serena,” the young woman shook his hand.
“Serena…?” Welles waited for a last name.
The woman looked at him and smiled, “The past is history and the future is mystery. So for now, I’m just Serena.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 4th
2017.
Wonder Woman: A Poem
Wonder Woman: A Poem
A woman of mysterious origin
finds herself in world of war and sin
she lived most of her life in an island paradise
soon finds herself in a world of deception and lies
Her isle and time intertwine
War has come to destroy peace sublime
She finds herself in London in the midst of the Great War
and soon in France amidst much blood and gore
But is it Ares who has led man astray?
Or when the light in men’s hearts succumbs to darkness’ way?
-A poem written
by Christopher
Sunday July 16th
2017
(inspired by seeing the new Wonder Woman movie with Gal Gadot today)
King Arthur At The Movies
The movie King Arthur: Legend of the Sword opens in theatres today on what is the 80th Anniversary of the coronation of King George VI as King of Britain (which happened on May 12th 1937).
I’m sure there is no correlation between the two events- the release of a movie that I gather is a real turkey judging from reviews I’m reading at the Rotten Tomatoes film web site and the coronation of a man who was a great and heroic king (in contrast to his brother the Nazi sympathizer King Edward VIII who abdicated the throne for what he thought was a great piece of tail Mrs. Wallis Simpson).
To mark the occasion, I’m posting here two photo montage music videos I made about King Arthur at the OneTrueMedia video making site (an online video making site that sadly no longer exists) and then posted to YouTube.
The 1st King Arthur photo montage I made back on January 24th 2009:
The 2nd King Arthur photo montage music video I made (which was called Merlin, Morgana and Arthur using images from the famous TV series called Merlin) I made back on July 21st 2009:
Here are links to a few chapters I’ve written in my series of vampire novels that pertain to the Arthurian legend:
King Arthur and The Vampire Horus:
https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2011/04/20/king-arthur-and-the-vampire-horus/
Sunset Over Camelot:
https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2011/04/18/sunset-over-camelot/
Morgana Before Dawn:
http://thevampiresamurai.blogspot.ca/2010/04/morgana-before-dawn-planned-catnapping.html
Arthur’s Sword and The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men
http://thevampiresamurai.blogspot.ca/2010/04/arthurs-sword-and-best-laid-plans-of.html
-A personal essay
written by Christopher
Friday May 12th 2017.
Orson Welles, Donald Trump and Dracul Van Helsing
The year was 1946 and actress Rita Hayworth was filming the movie Gilda with her co-star Glenn Ford.
She returned home to her husband Orson Welles only to see a mysterious entity de-materialize in front of her.
“Who was that who just disappeared outside the door?” Rita asked Orson as she kissed him on the cheek.
“That was that London-based billionaire Mr. Sol Invictus Set who had asked me to direct a film for him,” Orson replied.
“Well, he certainly got the Hell out of here,” Rita quipped.
“I should say so,” Orson poured himself a glass of whisky and soda, “Hell is definitely where he belongs. He wanted me to write and direct a film about Hitler.”
“The subject material would certainly catch the attention of the world,” Rita poured herself a glass of milk.
“But he wanted it to be a film expressing admiration for Hitler,” Welles’ eyes flashed anger.
“Well, then you were wise telling him where to go,” Rita kissed him again.
Welles softened, “Thanks, Rita.”
Rita was thoughtful, “You seem to have a habit of offending billionaires, Orson. First William Randolph Hearst and now this Sol Invictus Set. I hope this doesn’t cost you.”
“Cost me? How?” Welles looked quizzically at his wife.
“I hope Hollywood doesn’t decide to blacklist you,” Rita looked almost clairvoyant, “turn down your ideas for making films. Europe would probably be more accepting of a genius such as yourself. But it would be a shame if America turned its back on supporting your artistic excellence.”
For once in his life, Welles was speechless.
. . .
U.S. President Donald Trump was sitting at his desk in the Oval Office wondering how he’d be able to use the Mary Poppins word Supercalifranchilisticexpealidocious in a tweet and still be able to make a profound statement.
The phone rang.
Trump picked it up.
“Hello?” Trump ran a radioactive monitoring comb through his hair.
“Hello, Dad, it’s me,” it was his daughter Ivanka, “you had called me earlier while I was busy chatting with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.”
“Yes, it was your closeness to Justin Trudeau that I was wanting to talk to you about,” Trump explained, “I was listening to a radio program about the paranormal on the radio last night featuring some former Canadian cabinet minister- some guy called Paul Hellyer. Anyways Paul Hellyer was saying that Justin Trudeau is in close contact with an ET gray from the planet Nibiru – some alien chap by the name of Gali-Gula whose ET body is supposedly possessed by the spirit of the ancient Roman Emperor Caligula. I was wondering if you could phone Prime Minister Trudeau for me and ask him if this is true.”
“But Dad, why don’t you just phone him yourself?” Ivanka asked.
“Yes, but as you know somebody has been leaking all the phone conversations I’ve been having with world leaders. If that one gets leaked, especially in lieu of the unusual subject matter, there may be some among the American people who’ll start to think I’m nuts,” Trump was shocked by the high level of radioactivity in his hair when he looked at his comb monitor.
“All right, Dad, I’ll call him,” Ivanka put her mobile phone down, smoothed her skirt and then speed dialed Justin Trudeau’s number.
. . .
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing were making love in a gondola on a canal in Venice.
“In Venice, veni, vidi, vici,” Dracul said as he collapsed in Qonzilqointec’s arms and even though he was a non-smoker, he longed for a cigarette for some reason.
“In Venice, you came, you saw, you conquered,” Qonzilqointec sighed in ecstasy.
He certainly came all right.
Qonzilqointec thought maybe she really should have taken her dress completely off.
She lit a cigarette and wondered what dry cleaner Monica Lewinsky used on her blue dress.
“We’re here at the house of the masked ball,” the gondolier announced.
“Who puts on a masked ball during Lent?” Qonzilqointec asked, “aren’t carnival masquerade balls supposed to happen before Lent?”.
“Welcome,” the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Sol Invictus Set materialized before the door.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 28th
2017.
Haiku About TCM Host Robert Osborne R.I.P.
Haiku About TCM Host Robert Osborne R.I.P.
More than just a host
He was a friend showing you
a world of great films
Wilkie The Cat As James Bond: A Poem
Wilkie the Cat was assigned to play James Bond
even though his fur was far too blonde
so Wilkie made the transition from stage to film
His Bondish image stamped on mugs fresh from the kiln
But all that pottery went to pot
those martinis hit too much the spot
Wilkie showed up in front of the cameras thoroughly sloshed
and made a mess of those upper class British parties quite posh
Those aristocratic estates will never be the same
as asses go, Wilkie was a first-rate pain
Mitzi was assigned to play the Bond girl
she thought she’d give the role a whirl
her acting was great
her sex appeal first rate
but Wilkie was loaded to the gills in every scene
and among the cast, only Sean Connery was serene
he was assigned a role considered cameo
and ended up fair Juliet’s Romeo
in the Shakespeare scene
among England’s hills so green
Wilkie the Cat was given the axe
thrown out on his ass along with his snacks
Mitzi left the studios in shame
she’d not enjoy Bond girls’ fame
Daniel Craig was called back to play the role
and Connery listened to music- a little soul
Said Sean to Dan who was quite his fan,
“I think we can safely say in the case of Wilkie the Cat,
Never again! will be the slogan on any future Bond director’s mat.”
-A Wilkie The Cat poem
written by Christopher
Sunday March 4th
2017
Renfield and The Oscar Envelope Mix-up Fiasco
Renfield R. Renfield the genetically created shapeshifting hamster/human who was Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for Set Enterprises was in the kitchen of the colossal mansion owned by his boss the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.
Sitting alongside him in the kitchen was his friend and fellow employee Amadeus Emanon the genetically created personal concert pianist to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set (Amadeus had been cloned from the DNA from locks of hair of composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, British actor Alan Rickman and California mass murderer Charles Manson).
Amadeus was busy working on his 12th plate of bacon and scrambled eggs and his 11th plate of pancakes smothered in Canadian maple syrup.
Upstairs the vampire Set was complaining to his butler and valet Athelstan about the increasing amount being spent on food in the household budget.
Back downstairs in the kitchen, Renfield still hadn’t finished one plate of bacon and scrambled eggs.
He was still busy reading email messages between Russian President Vladimir Putin and U.S. President Donald Trump having hacked into both countries’ secure national encrypted security systems. (more of a challenge than hacking into former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton’s private email server that she used when serving in that position but what the heck- challenges made life interesting).
“I noticed,” Amadeus wiped some scrambled eggs and maple syrup off his chin, “that you haven’t been around the house the past few days. Where were you?”.
“I was in Los Angeles,” Renfield took his sunglasses off and put them on the table.
“What were you doing in Los Angeles?” Amadeus asked while crunching on a slice of bacon, “Visiting the porn studios you own there?”.
“No,” Renfield put aside his autographed photos of actresses Akira Lane and Nicole Oring, “I was at the Academy Awards.”
Amadeus sat with his mouth open, “How did you manage to get in there? Were you with that bus tour group that Jimmy Kimmel brought in?”.
“Well,” Renfield started putting some pet hamster food and some ketchup atop his scrambled eggs, “if you recall, I was created with the genetic ability to be able to shapeshift into a hamster. So I just shapeshifted into a hamster and wandered all over the auditorium. On stage, backstage, in the audience,accidentally wound up in Matt Damon’s underwear (horror of horrors!) where I discovered he has a Jimmy Kimmel Loves Matt Damon and Vice-Versa heartshaped tattoo on his ass. I also managed to get into Salma Hayek’s underwear which I thoroughly enjoyed.”
“You filthy disgusting pervert,” Amadeus was shocked.
“Funny those words you just used happen to match the 10,000 most favourite sentences that other people seem to post on my Facebook timeline,” Renfield was reflective.
“Did you do anything else during the Oscars?” Amadeus asked.
“Well, while the PriceWaterhouse Coopers accountant was busy playing with a certain part of his anatomy while photographing actress Emma Stone backstage with his smart phone, I ran up and switched two red envelopes on him,” Renfield grinned broadly.
“You didn’t?” Amadeus looked horrified.
“I did,” Renfield stuck his chest out proudly, “ever since Dr. Cadbury Rocher told me at last year’s Set Enterprises’ Christmas party that part of my genetic make-up contains the DNA of Loki the Norse trickster god in Norse mythology, I am now endeavouring to become the greatest practical joker of the 21st Century.”
Amadeus lost his appetite (a rare occasion for him).
He stood up and walked over to the kitchen window.
He thought to himself that living with a kook like Renfield was like living in La La Land.
He opened the drapes of the kitchen window, noticed it was now nighttime and moonlight was starting to shine through.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday February 28th
2017.
