Some solidifying developments on the Atlantis movie front. I refuse to call it “good news” because it’s only good news insofar as the naysaying, sky-is-falling, that-movie-aint-getting-made contingent is concerned – of which I am not a part of. Instead, I welcomed the update with a resounding “meh”. Sure, to the average outsider, it may look like my unbridled optimism has been validated but nothing could be further from the truth. I’m actually dubious by nature and it was, in fact, my smug, deep-seeded cynicism that essentially confirmed what I already expected. It’s not about being optimistic or pessimistic, but about being optimistic and pessimistic about the right things.
On the script front, I’m past the climax and staring down a fairly chunky and heartfelt denouement. I’ve approached this movie as a special event and not just another big-budget episode of the show. No longer working within the more restrictive parameters of an ongoing series, we’re finally free to rattle some cages, upend established norms, and take some chances. We want to reward longtime fans with an outing that pays proper tribute to five years of Atlantis history while, at the same time, pursuing avenues that wouldn’t have been open to us a year ago. Could this be SGA’s last adventure? I very much doubt it but, in a way, you want to attack this script like it may well be. Truly impact the lives of these characters and have viewers come away with a sense of significance and satisfaction. Whether we can accomplish all this AND keep everyone happy is a daunting task but, hey, we’re up to the challenge.
Hey, guess what I had for lunch today. Chocolate! I received a chocolate shipment from the heavenly JP Hevin (what was essentially a briefcase full of chocolate – I shit you not) and set it down in the writers’ room, intending to sample a few selections after lunch. While most everyone else went with rotisserie chicken, I went with the front office and ordered Indian from a place called Palki Restaurant. My “murgh tikka” was an offering of boneless paste white chicken with a spackle-like consistency, disquietingly pink at its center. Although the inedible charred edges suggested grilling, the dish’s overwhelming blandness and pulpy texture hinted at either a half-ass boiling or disinterested steaming. Authentic? Maybe – if the guy who prepared my meal worked his last job cooking for convicts in Mumbai.
Figuring our construction department could always use some extra stucco, I set it aside and had twenty pieces of incredible chocolate instead. I did, of course, share with my friends. George Horie came by and took one, refusing my offer to grab another – then returned seconds later, his mind magically changed, pronouncing the Hevin creations “silky” and “amazing”. They’re sublimely delicate, perfect little masterpieces to be savored and appreciated. Also, to be part a critical element in my bet with Ashleigh that she couldn’t shove twenty into her mouth. She barely managed five which surprised my considerably. I thought her mouth was a lot bigger.
Oh, speaking of mouthy, we went out for Kerry (I’ll be making you dinner once my Vancouver Canucks are eliminated in the first round) McDowall’s birthday dinner last night. We hit Tojo’s where we enjoyed a fantastic sake lemonade cocktail, a bottle of equally delectable chilled sake, and a shot of some 38%-proof sake. Oh, and some mouth-meltingly-terrific sushi, green tea crème brulees, and my man Hiro’s delightfully full-out off-key rendition of Happy Birthday. Good times. Good times.