These aren't a few of my favorite things

I was thinking about something I wrote on a post to Highlander (http://miserableannalsoftheearth.blogspot.com) (dammit, I know HTML; I just have to sit down and figure out how to do links on this thing) - and I lost track of what post it was, but just go there anyway when you get a chance; he's funny and articulate) about movie remakes.

I was expressing my disappointment that there have been so many lately. Perfectly perfect, classic movies like King Kong, The Producers, Fun with Dick and Jane, Yours, Mine and Ours and Cheaper by the Dozen being remade ostensibly for “the current generation,” or because a hot new star with lots of power always liked that Doris Day movie or now they can do special effects that were impossible before. Now, I know that there are talented screenwriters out there. I’ve met one or two. Not to drop names, but Ron Nyswander, in particular, who wrote “Philadelphia,” lives nearby and gave a small talk and Q&A to a local publishing network group. And I’m sure there are many, many more writers out there besides him. I’ve heard of them. I know they exist.

SO WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY?

Just like in publishing, all these gatekeepers who continually say in interviews that they’re looking for “fresh new voices,” yet they keep putting out the same old tripe because it made money before.

WHERE IS YOUR COURAGE, PEOPLE?

All right, there was Breakneck Mountain. There was the new Woody Allen flick. Several others I’m sure you (and especially Highlander) could list without taking a breath.

And I have to add a disclaimer here, in the interest of full disclosure: I like classics. I hate artificial turf and the designated hitter. I cringe at misplaced apostrophes. It bothers me that “dis” is now in the dictionary.

But if anyone makes an updated “Philadelphia Story” starring Tea Leoni and Matt Damon, or “Pillow Talk” with Uma Thurman and Ben Affleck, I will have to hunt them down and take away their union cards.

And unfortunately this virus has spread. I don’t know who has infected whom, but it’s taken over Broadway. And television. With a few notable exceptions, TV and its creeping amoeba of reality shows is becoming worthless. I watched a few minutes of “American Idol” with my husband last night, just because I’d never seen it before and I was curious at what all the hoopla was about. And it made me sad, that this kind of thing now passes for entertainment. (all right, I admit, I do like “Survivor” and it’s my blog and I don’t have to explain why.)

I know that reality shows are cheaper than sitcoms. They don’t have to pay a team of writers or a gaggle of stars. And it’s damned expensive to produce a show on Broadway. They have to pay all the same union people, so why take a chance on a flop?

But movies? Even a bad remake (except for “The Goodbye Girl,” they could have lip-synced the damned thing, the male lead was even trying for Richard Dreyfus’s delivery, which was abysmal and embarrassing) requires a screenwriter. So why not hire someone good?

I know they exist. My theory is that they are being held hostage.(funny, I haven’t seen Ron around town in a while) Like Collette, they have been locked away in some tower and forced to write things that other people take credit for, and in script meetings these other people read the treatments and frown and say, “I don’t know, it seems like a long shot. So let’s take out the half-blind, homeless lesbian folk singer and replace her with, oh, I don’t know, a young Julie Andrews type, what’s her name, the one that was in that Hugh Grant movie, and let’s make her straight and have her fall in love with her boss, who is in the Army and has all these kids…oh, what the hell. Let’s just remake “The Sound of Music.”

And if anyone does that, there’s going to be serious hell to pay.