Big Clanking Balls

I just popped another awards screener into the DVD player. A tiny indie film. Tiny. One of those personal types about sharecroppers where there's no dialogue because they can't afford sound. And before the movie started, it had several screens instructing me to calibrate my TV so I could properly enjoy the tiny indie film.

Ex-squeeze me?

Wow. If your gonads are that hairy, you really should use them for good, not evil. Like something clever that would make me vote for your film instead of both INSULTING AND PISSING ME OFF before it even starts. I mean, seriously. I have a stack of thirty films to get through in the next two weeks before I vote, and you want to giftwrap me a good reason to put yours back at the bottom?

Sigh.

I hope it's the distribution company I should be mad at. Yeah, that's the ticket. The poor filmmakers probably don't even know the dang message is there. Nah, that didn't work. I'm still mad at their film.

Oh, and for the record, my cinematographer calibrated our expensive state of the art TV for me, and it's just fine. So if it's good enough for screenings of John Toll's movies, it's good enough for any Mini DV sharecropping tale with a third world DP. Cripes.