Zombitch in Houston production
Lunatic Fringe Productions, which doesn't seem able to spell its own company and cast names consistently, is working in Houston this fall to film Zombitch. I hope they can bring it off, if only because the title and premise promise to be a hoot. (Note to Tim Sanders: Make sure Zombitch has an ending, and a good one.) Casting is still open (see Southwestcasting on Yahoo Groups). Here is the plot summary:
TITLE: Zombitch (Or How I Learned to Never Listen to a Talking Dog)
TAGLINE: Not Even Flowers Can Save Your Ass Now
SYNOPSIS: Ben McPhal[l]ic, that guy you can't help but like, lives in what he might describe as "a life of extreme and profuse inadequacy." Venturing through the day-to-day drudgery and ominous void of his ped[e]str[ia]nite life, Ben is indeed a rare hero. Having spent several unfulfilling years at Prindle M. Scientific, a lab for testing cosmetics, Ben has found slight moments of happiness and hope in various clandestine "personal" side projects, but nothing as fulfilling as the American dream; coveted job, coveted wife, coveted white picket fence life he had always strived to lead.
Zhenya, his mail-order bride from the former Soviet Union, has quickly adapted to American culture and degraded into the migraine-causing ways of a venomous-tongued shopping-queen. This combined with amorous inattention that she blames on her (apparently) frequent monthly cycle, has led Ben to search for a solution in what he's most comfortable with -- (pseudo) science. After another typically cold-bedded night, a dream of P.M.S. potions and anteater dogs with shotguns enlightens Ben to the answer that would solve the whole world's woeful women worries. Ben covertly concocts a test batch for the rats at the lab the very next day. Ben's perverse boss, Mr. M., inadvertently discovers the little experiment and witnesses the rats' copious amounts of copulation caused by Ben's concoction. The manipulative Mr. M. decides that the project is worth a test shot at prime time.
Like channeling the god Eros, Mr. M. puppets Ben along with his co-worker and newfound friend Kwan, as well as a few others from the lab, into thinking it perfectly sane and natural to test the fix-all potion on those it was intended for: (real) women. With an unwitting and gratuitous lot of test subjects, including their sweet natured receptionist Penny, and Ben's own frigidly inexpressive wife, not even the Department of Homeland Security could prepare us for the terror they are about to unleash.
TITLE: Zombitch (Or How I Learned to Never Listen to a Talking Dog)
TAGLINE: Not Even Flowers Can Save Your Ass Now
SYNOPSIS: Ben McPhal[l]ic, that guy you can't help but like, lives in what he might describe as "a life of extreme and profuse inadequacy." Venturing through the day-to-day drudgery and ominous void of his ped[e]str[ia]nite life, Ben is indeed a rare hero. Having spent several unfulfilling years at Prindle M. Scientific, a lab for testing cosmetics, Ben has found slight moments of happiness and hope in various clandestine "personal" side projects, but nothing as fulfilling as the American dream; coveted job, coveted wife, coveted white picket fence life he had always strived to lead.
Zhenya, his mail-order bride from the former Soviet Union, has quickly adapted to American culture and degraded into the migraine-causing ways of a venomous-tongued shopping-queen. This combined with amorous inattention that she blames on her (apparently) frequent monthly cycle, has led Ben to search for a solution in what he's most comfortable with -- (pseudo) science. After another typically cold-bedded night, a dream of P.M.S. potions and anteater dogs with shotguns enlightens Ben to the answer that would solve the whole world's woeful women worries. Ben covertly concocts a test batch for the rats at the lab the very next day. Ben's perverse boss, Mr. M., inadvertently discovers the little experiment and witnesses the rats' copious amounts of copulation caused by Ben's concoction. The manipulative Mr. M. decides that the project is worth a test shot at prime time.
Like channeling the god Eros, Mr. M. puppets Ben along with his co-worker and newfound friend Kwan, as well as a few others from the lab, into thinking it perfectly sane and natural to test the fix-all potion on those it was intended for: (real) women. With an unwitting and gratuitous lot of test subjects, including their sweet natured receptionist Penny, and Ben's own frigidly inexpressive wife, not even the Department of Homeland Security could prepare us for the terror they are about to unleash.
posted by Twerpette at 5:26 PM
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