224 - The Man in the Iron Mask
As Titanic continued its months-long reign at the box office, its closest challenger (before Lost in Space would dethrone it, that is) at the multiplex starred none other than one of its star-crossed lovers. Yes, Leonardo DiCaprio owned the box office in the weeks ahead of Titanic’s Best Picture win, pulling double double duty as evil King Louis XIV and his dungeon-cast identical twin in The Man in the Iron Mask. The directorial debut of Braveheart’s Oscar-nominated screenwriter Randall Wallace, the film adapted Alexandre Dumas’ novel and assembled an awards friendly ensemble for its musketeers: Jeremy Irons, Gerard Depardieu, John Malkovich, and (the somehow still un-nominated) Gabriel Byrne.
Poor reviews plagued the film on release, but DiCaprio’s appeal turned the film into a box office success. This episode, we talk about DiCaprio’s no-show Oscar attendance after being snubbed for Titanic and his career in the immediate years that followed. We also discuss Wallace’s dubious filmography, Titanic’s other box office challengers, and DiCaprio in a Baby Bjorn.
Topics also include Bryan Adams, COVID Pinocchio movies, and this year’s AARP Movies for Grownups nominees.
Links:
The 1998 Oscar nominations
Vulture Movies Fantasy League
Mailbag submissions!
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Prompt 5: Cutting Corners
FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge
Prompt 5: Cutting Corners
Streamer AU~!
Oh, CW: Brief attempt at body shaming (rebuked almost instantly)
“What have you done?!”
Yelling wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the Amaurotine Opera House, quite likely it was far more common than it should be. However, certain events called for certain levels of volume.
Hythlodaeus sighed and watched as Hades clenched a dress in his fist and proceeded to unload upon the hapless costume designer, the shop manager having stepped well away from the chaos, though still in sight.
“This dress, that you’ve so kindly pulled from storage without prior approval, is not only from the absolute wrong era, you tried to put it on her!” he pointed with his free hand at the actress still standing upon the raised platform in front of the mirrors. Said actress was on the larger side, and she wilted slightly as Hades spoke. “Did you even look at the measurement sheet provided to you?! And now you’ve almost ruined it!”
Hythlodaeus reached out to pat the poor actress on the hand. “Not your fault at all, dear,” he reassured her, smiling up at her. “No need to fret.”
“Well of course it isn’t her fault,” Hades bit out, as though that should be obvious, still focused on the designer. “She should have been dressed in the proper size, not forced to fit into something that this fool decided was ‘good enough’!”
The designer puffed up in anger even as the actress relaxed under the reassurance (as reassuring as Hades could be, of course), crossing her arms. “Mr. Selch,” she started, lips pursed, “The ‘correct era’ would be a needless drain on the budget, not to mention the length of time it would take to create from measurement alone.” She looked the actress up and down, then shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll fit eventually.”
“First, there is no budget, should there be a need for more gil I will provide it, second, things that are done well take time, and nothing that goes on that stage will be done in any other way. Third, even vague comments about the actors’ bodies, even in this shop, are unacceptable.” The shop manager moved to step further away. “And you should have stopped this whole mess! It’s your shop, not the designer’s!”
The designer threw up her hands, narrowly avoiding her horns as she did so. “Then you’ll have to find a new designer! I refuse to work under such conditions! I quit!”
“Please do! The last thing I need is you designing velcro closures and saying your design doesn’t allow for linings, or, Zodiark forbid, saying fittings aren’t needed!”
Hythlodaeus sighed again, watching the designer storm out, tail snapping behind her. Why were so many of the usually well regarded designers such divas? He patted the actress’s hand again and helped her down from the platform as Hades looked around the shop. Only the newest stitchers were watching events unfold, the more experienced stitchers and all of the cutter-drapers were ignoring the whole thing.
“What, do you think that was this week’s show?” Hades snapped, making the lookie-loos jump slightly and quickly return to work. He groaned to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked out the door, placing the dress gently to the side as he went. Hythlodaeus followed.
“I think that went quite well,” he chirped, grinning as Hades shot him a glare. “I think the last one tried to curse you on the way out, didn’t he?”
“That was the last shop supervisor and you know it,” he grumbled as he swung open the door to his office. “The last designer tried to sic his carbuncle on me when I told him he was not to dress the whole cast in white; the lighting crew would have a fit.”
“Oh yes, that’s right,” Hythlodaeus said, a false innocence draped over his words as the two of them dropped into their seats, Hades behind the desk and Hythlodaeus in front. “My but we do go through them don’t we?”
“I go through them. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”
“Mitigating that sour look on your otherwise handsome face,” was the teasing comeback, and Hades just huffed. He pulled out the show binder and flipped through it.
“Of course,” he grumbled, pulling out the designer’s resume. “Akadaemia Poieten Oikos. It’s always APO. Remind me, Hythlodaeus, to never hire out of APO again.”
Hythlodaeus glanced slowly over Hades’s shoulder, making a point of looking at the degree that hung behind him. “You and I both graduated out of APO.”
“Which means we should know better, doesn’t it?” he easily retorted. He turned then to a small book kept near the aged computer he insisted upon using, flipping through it. “And of course it’s time to start the search again,” he grumbled.
“If I might make a small suggestion?” Hythlodaeus asked, then smiled as Hades absently hummed and nodded. “You know who you need to call.”
Hades froze, mid-page turn, and slowly raised his head. “No,” he said, voice firm. “No, not after that incident with the assistant designer.”
“Who else is there, my friend?”
“Taru, of course!”
“Miss Taru is currently in a long term contract with Saint Shiva’s Theatre, you’re quite aware,” Hythlodaeus said with a smile. “And Saint Reymanaud’s Concert Hall and The Sultana’s Players are in a bidding war for her next appointment. No, no, I’m afraid you’ll just have to bite the bullet.”
Hades huffed and started turning pages again. “Fine, I’ll call O’Donnell. But you will be the one to speak to her.” Hythlodaeus laughed and held out his hand for Hades’s phone, waiting for the other man to place the call.
It was always so much more amusing when Brigid O’Donnell was at the opera house.
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