New production gets special effects that are out of this world.
This reporter recently recorded Steven Spielberg in a live audition for his latest production:
Steven Spielberg: “Where’s the next animatronics guy?”
Assistant: “He said he left all his creatures out there in the wetlands.”
Spielberg: “Okay, get in the jeep, and we’ll check ’em out.”
They drive out into the middle of the Ballona Wetlands.
Assistant: “Those birds standing in the field are egrets.”
Spielberg: “Nice necks, but they’re all white — we need something with more color.”
Assistant: “And over there in the trees are the red wing blackbirds.”
Spielberg: “They look all black to me.”
Assistant: “Yeah, well you can only see the red when they spread their wings.”
Spielberg: “Okay then, push the remote control and get them to spread their wings.”
Assistant: “What remote control?”
Spielberg: “Sheez — what does this guy think he’s got here? I’m going to look at that group over there close-up.”
Spielberg jumps out of the jeep and walks towards a group of brown pelicans. As soon as he gets within twenty feet, the birds lift off as a group and fly in formation, wing tip to wing tip. Spielberg watches the flock then returns to the jeep.
Spielberg: “Hey, that wasn’t bad. Ask the guy if he can get them to try it again, but put some loops into it.”
Assistant: “Uh, once they take off, that’s it.”
Spielberg: “Great, so how am I supposed to get another take if I need it?”
Spielberg lifts his shoe to get into the jeep.
Spielberg: “God, look at my shoes! What is this muck? His damn creatures ooze this stuff all over the set. That’s it! Tell this guy that his creatures just don’t make the cut. They blend in with the scenery. They mess up the set. They can’t take directions. And I’ll bet they can can’t even talk! This guy just isn’t creative enough to make it at Dream Works. What did you say his name was?”
Assistant: “He said people call him different names: Jehovah, Yahweh, the Almighty…”
Spielberg: (Interrupting) “God, some people are really full of themselves. Go tell him, ‘don’t call us.'”
The assistant dials his cell phone and relates the message.
Assistant: “He said to look up in the sky. He has a message for you.”
Spielberg: “What, sky writing or something?”
Suddenly above their heads and all around them, bolts of lightning light up the sky, unleashing a massive torrent in a cloud burst directly above Spielberg’s head. Next he is pelted with golf-sized hail stones, and frogs fall from the sky in the hundreds around him, fleeing in all directions into the newly formed streams that are forming in the mud of the wetlands. Spielberg turns towards his assistant.
Spielberg: “He wouldn’t be bad in special effects.”
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