“And now for the main event…” Oscar says. The cranking sound fades a bit as the opening image appears on the clean, white wall opposite us. It’s the cemetery, a moody fog rolling across it. There’s the shadow of a girl in the distance, a flashlight flicking past the headstones. Oscar dims the lights so the image becomes sharper, even though the edges are fuzzy with a vignette effect.
When I sit, my leg won’t stop jiggling. A lush, frightful score fills the room. Derick places a comforting hand on my thigh. “Is this okay?” he whispers. Oscar is already too enthralled in the film to notice. I nod my approval as the fate of Wiley’s future plays out before me.
***
Silence befalls the room when Oscar stops the projector an hour and forty minutes later. Derick hits the lights. I bite the inside of my cheek.
None of us speak for a stretch. We couldn’t if we tried.
Chompin’ at the Bitis…
“That,” Oscar says, breaking the tension, “was worth the wait!” His fists hoist up in jubilation.
Everything I hoped it would be and more!
Derick was right. I had no reason to worry.
The pacing is tight, the writing is sharp, and the acting is cohesive and well directed. The editing can be choppy at times and the audio isn’t the best and yes, the zombie makeup is hokey, but as it stands, an homage to lost love and a little Pennsylvania town, it’s beautiful.
Derick’s hand left my thigh only once to pass me a tissue from his bag. Now, I blot at my eyes, not even embarrassed that I’m crying over a campy romp that turns soapy in the big twist: the zombie boy was the driver of the car that killed Tammy on impact.
When she finds this out, Robin, the protagonist who has begun to develop a soft spot for the bleary-eyed, undead boy in the checkered tie, tries to cruelly stop him from crawling back into his grave before sunrise, essentially dooming his soul to an eternity of never-ending unrest, wandering this plane of existence. Instead, she finds understanding in his impassioned apology and his promise to bring a message back to Tammy, should they both end up in the same afterlife.
Oscar was furiously scrawling comments the entire time, barely touching his Melón Pomelo. In the episode, he’s going to have a lot to say. He’s known to spar with his guests when it comes to stringent opinions, and even though I have a bachelor’s degree, I don’t measure up.
What I lack in experience, though, I make up for in personal anecdotes. Surprisingly, Alice wrote on her list of approved topicsThe Real Tammy Wilson. Alice isn’t only ready to reshare the movie, she’s interested in having her story told.
“I’m stunned,” I say.
“It has a grindhouse hook, so that B-movie drive-in appeal, but art house sensibilities, and yet the camerawork is so commercial. How she blended all those styles is masterful. I’d be remiss if I didn’t say thank you for bringing this to me,” Oscar says. “This is a big deal for movie lovers. It’s not every day a film of this much mystery gets let out of the vault.” Pride mixes with nauseating excitement in my belly. Derick grips my forearm as if to sayI knew it.
“We can get the podcast episode recorded and edited before August fourteenth, right? We really need this exposure to help keep Wiley’s afloat.”
Oscar’s nod is enthusiastic. “Yes. As I said in my email, I want to help the lot. Drive-ins are so important to the ecosystem and economy of movies. Not to mention their historical significance. Wiley’s is one of the oldest continuously operating drive-ins in the country. It’d be a shame to see it go.”
“Maybe we could release a week and a half ahead of time. That should drive enough traffic to our socials, right?” I ask, looking to Derick. He’s gone stoic yet still nods. “I convinced Earl to approve an online preorder window in the last week of July. He hates internet reservations, but it’s necessary. Once that sells out, we can advertise a drive-up price.” My words are falling out over one another. “We can add all that to your cool campaign posts.”
“Sure,” Derick murmurs. I didn’t run all this by him, but I’m on the fast track to success. I can’t stall at a crossroads waiting for the permission gates to go up. Sometimes, when you’re in charge, you have to make the hard and fast decision to floor it.
“I love it,” Oscar says. “I think it’s all very doable. We’ll meet back here tomorrow. We have a small soundproofed studio in the office next door where we can record. Tonight I’ll send you my thoughts to help you collect your own. It’ll be like a loose script that we follow so we make sure to hit all the important points. My editor, Elissa, can make anything flow, but it’s best we have a solid through line to make her job easier and our conversation more fruitful.” He taps the end of his pen on his leather iPad case. “I’ll also send the film negative out to the lab Priority Mail first thing in the morning, so we can get the digitization process moving. We want a good quality file to show at the screening.”
We shake on it all, and I’m stoked beyond belief.
Back out on the simmering pavement, Derick suggests we get some dinner. Twilight is blanketing the city. Businesspeople emerge from buildings, phones in hand, walking home with loosened ties and sneakers swapped in for dress shoes. I grow sheepish as Derick swivels into me, and I stop him from heading back in the direction we came from.
“I had another idea, actually, if you’re up for it,” I say. A smile climbs up onto his face.
It’s showtime for:
Wren Pulls Off a Grand Gesture.
I want Derick to know that I’m serious about making up for the Fourth of July. And about him.
Time is of the essence as we race to catch the 4 Train downtown. A half hour later we emerge near the southernmost tip of Manhattan and snake our way over to the South Street Seaport where the asphalt fades into old-timey cobblestones. Tourists and trendy hipsters are flocking over to Pier 17. Every group and pair clutch rectangular papers, and a growing number of them wear Leonardo DiCaprio merchandise.
The confusion on Derick’s face smolders only for a second. Then he reads the large sign that waves overhead:
One Night Only! The South Street Seaport Museum Presents Movies under the Stars: Titanic aboard the Wavertree.
