As some of you may know, I've been kicking around the entertainment industry for quite some time, toiling away in the shadowy outskirts between widespread fame & acceptance and Gary Busey's RV. During this time, most of the projects I've undertaken have been, like this blog, self-initiated. So imagine my delight and surprise to learn that not only was an idea of mine in production, it was just months away from premiering on a major network!
Admittedly, this success has occured only after a long struggle with my conscience. Though I felt lucky for a foot in the door, it was with some reluctance that I first pitched a series proposal to the executives in Burbank. Film is my first love, and I haven't always had the greatest appreciation for television as a viable artistic medium. In fact, I've always thought of cinema as a proud, chaste beauty who only occasionally yields to the whims and wishes of a special man. TV, on the other hand, struck me as film's tarty, blowsy younger sister, peddling her wares to all and putting out for even the most down-in-the-mouth street-corner stranger, all the while spreading its banal sitcoms and self-serious cop shows like so much video chlymidia. And in the nearly six decades since those first cathode rays were beamed into American homes, just a few special geniuses have truly mastered this electronic Whore of Babylon: Rod Serling, with his scripts for Playhouse 90 and The Twilight Zone; Dennis Potter, in his captivating work for the BBC; and David Lynch on the early episodes of Twin Peaks.
But with the work previewed below, I hope it's not immodest to think that I have joined the pantheon.
With Who Wants To Marry A Magic 8 Ball?, I believe that television has finally crossed over from "reality" programming and into the brave new realm of "surreality" programming. Trust me, you won't see another show like it this year, not even ABC's Who Wants To Marry A Quija Board? or Fox's Who'll Let A Pygmy Watch 'Em Bathe?
With an unprecedented 13-episode commitment and a "name" host in one Rick Solomon (you may know him from his work with Paris Hilton), I trust that we can not fail.
I'm sure that somewhere up in Heaven, Lombaire is looking down and weeping tears of pride.
