The title of this blog refers to the content contained within it,
though coincidentally it also alludes to the effect it will have on you if you
continue reading. Here are a few interesting interview questions I came across
and my less interesting answers.
Dream Film
Cast:
David Tennant plays a cop with a dark and ambiguous past. Leslie Neilsen plays his partner, a cop with an amusing past. Patrick Stewart is the wise old-guy who has seen it all. Chevy Chase plays Patrick Stewart's stoner brother. Karen Gillan plays Tennant's kooky love interest; while Leslie Neilsen's love interest is played by Mel Brooks dressed as the late Audrey Hepburn. Hugh Laurie appears in a double role as Tennant's American boss who regularly says "Damnit Tennant! You don't play by the book!" and Tennant's English butler who is basically George from Blackadder. Stephen Moyer and Anna Paquin play a brooding vampire king and a sexy telepathic waitress but in a bit of stunt casting not the way round you'd expect. The villain of the film is Rik Mayall - the insane head of the New York mafia and his inexplicably hot wife Francine from American Dad. Their posh daughter is played by Mila Kunnis who tries to seduce both Tennant and Neilsen to compromise their operation, but finds her soul through the help of her kindly confused old Butler played by Ronnie Barker with a lisp that's more cute than funny. Johnny Depp has a cameo as a homeless man who makes the audience go "wait, was that....? Nah." While Kings of Leon cameo as themselves in a scene which proves they have a sense of humour but is regarded by critics and fans alike as the worst part of the film. Damien Molony out of off TV's Being Human plays a man with learning difficulties in a subplot that has no impact on the rest of the film but I think Damien Molony deserves some top acting award. The whole thing is narrated by Greg Proops who has smoked a ton of weed and just improv's around the plot.
Dream Rock
Band:
On vocals and wordsmithery: Suggs from TV's Madness.
On Guitar and rock
n roll anecdotes: Pete Townsend from The Who. With Dave Gilmore from Pink Floyd
on weird guitar noises. Assuming he can stop fighting for one minute with the
bassist.
On bass: Roger
Waters out of Pink Floyd. It may become necessary to disguise both of
these people in order to get them to work together without knowing it. Disguise
Gilmore as Jed or Ward from Jedward and Waters as Greg Proops who has smoked a
lot of weed and just improv's around the plot.
Drummer: Dave
Grohl - coz he seems like a nice guy with a sense of humour and he can bang
those things pretty loudly.
Song Writers:
Alice Cooper, Suggs and Al Yankovic.
Backing and
support of: The Horne Section - I just really love this band and their simple
funny songs. Proper talented comedy musicians.
Triangle: Justin
Beiber, because I feel he should learn a bit of humility.
Dream Lover:
Personalitywise I'm after a Doctor Who companion: Someone loyal, clever (but not as clever as me, or clever in ways I'm not), who tells me I'm brilliant, wants to travel with me, helps me find my human side before I commit another genocide and knows exactly the right questions to ask for me to explain the plot.
The sexy
Scottishness of Karen Gillan would have been the obvious answer a few months
ago, but new kid on the block Jenna-Louise Coleman is very sexy. Not Scottish
though, so I'd be missing out on that beautiful accent. Let's just get Jenna
and Karen to fight it out and the winner wins me!
Unless they're
left hideously disfigured by the fight in which case I'm marrying Alison Brie
and her amazing Disney-princess eyes. Fuck it, I'm just going to marry Alison Brie.
Someone tell her this is happening so two beautiful and talented actresses
don't end up hurting each other. She's gotta agree to that, she seems so
lovely. Then again Katy Perry does love her funny Brit's doesn't she...no
Alison Brie it is.
Dream Project:
Anything involving writing comedy I would love to do. If I had the power I would love to be involved in creating and writing for the British version of the Daily Show, which is an American satire show and one of the ways in which their comedy is currently better than ours. A hit sitcom of my own would be nice or any cutting/gluing/colouring-in project would be great, I haven't had one of those since school and I bloody loved them. Always thought about doing a podcast too, I could talk at my laptop for ages about shit and two of my friends could pretend to listen and tell me they liked it and I'd feel special. An Edinburgh show too.
Dream
Alternative Career:
Well, I don't
really have a career at the moment. I'm a writer to pay the bills while I wait
for inspiration for my next big waiting job. Ideally, a writer of comedy. As a
child I wanted to be a window cleaner for a bit, but I think that dream is now
dead. There was once a window cleaner when I was five who seemed happy and I
thought he must have had a good life. But when I was six I saw Canary Wharf and
thought fuck that shit. Scared me off far too young. Since then it's been
comedy writer all the way. I'm kinda singularly focussed in career terms
actually. That might encourage some people to chase that option vigorously
but...seems like harder work than pint pouring doesn't it?
Dream Holiday:
Been on it all
ready. It's the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. If they could transport that to
somewhere where the weather is less fucked in August it'd be spot on. I could
quite happily spend the whole month there and would love to bankrupt
myself achieving that dream one day, seeing show after show for a
whole month. Plus late night drinking in a city where all the girls sound like
Karen Gillan! What's not too like? Plus I've bumped into all my favourite
people in bars in Edinburgh: Paul Merton, Suggs, Marcus Brigstocke, Thom
Debaere, Ben Goldsmith and Simon Amstell.
Dream Home:
That place the old
Pope's moved into looks pretty sweet doesn't it? Big old mansions and stately
homes on a modest budget are what I'm after, what have you got?
Actually, there's
a house between Welwyn North and Welwyn Garden City station and you can see the
huge garden from the viaduct. The river runs through both their back and front
garden. There are bridges and a little island and all sorts. Nosey people like
me would look down on me and Alison Brie sunbathing though so maybe not.
Nile's apartment in Frasier is beautifully pretentious. But then
if I feel uncomfortable about people looking down on us from the passing trains
the studio audience might be a drag. What I want is big house or swanky flat, a
reasonable walk from Tesco, a pub, CEX, Costa, a theatre, and one of those
adult soft play areas with the big ball pits that grown-ups can go in. If it's
in the Mediterranean too that would be a bonus.
Dream Cuisine:
Indian.
Move on, nothing
to debate here.
Dream Day Out:
Stay in bed most
of the morning. I find the notion of being awake before Channel 4 has finished
it's early morning Frasier repeats detestable. In fact since
the introduction of 4+1 I sleep a lot more each day. If I am up watch Frasier.
Meet my friends at
Joes Cafe in Cheltenham for a massive Belly Buster breakfast. Eat and read the
papers there, everyone laughs at my satirical remarks about the headlines (hey,
it's my fantasy, doesn't have to be credible).
Breakfast done,
head to the shops for a spot of elevenses: crisps, chocolate, a big bottle of
Vimto each.
Then helicopter
ride to London. The pilot lets me sit in the co-pilot's seat and fly for a bit,
until I angrily chase a pigeon for five minutes and nearly crash, then he turns
my controls off but doesn't tell me so I still think I'm flying it.
1PM: Lunch at
either the Ritz or the pasty shop at Kings Cross. We'll do a vote on the day,
but know that I'd personally prefer Kings Cross.
1:30: Go to Golden
Nugget Casino in Leicester Square. Win a fortune on Punto Banco so we can
afford the rest of the day's activity. Celebrate by throwing chips up into the
air and have them falling around us in slow motion like I've seen them do in
films. Have cocktails brought to the table on a little tray so people think we
must be someone important. Like the young people who do T4 or wanker bankers or
something.
Hit up Oxford
Street, all the boys go to HMV and buy awesome box-sets with our Punto Banco
winnings, and buy some of that delicious vodka I got from Selfridges once. Get
thrown out for complaining aggressively that they don't sell fridges. If they
do, complain more forcefully. Then head straight to the pub. The girls can go
clothes shopping in all the swanky London fashion stores, Primark, PDSA that
sort of place - to be honest I don't know much about fashion, they can go where
they like so long as it buys us more time in the pub.
Meet up with the
girls again. Have a few more drinks.
Visit a museum or
art gallery containing works of outstanding beauty. Enjoy the total silence as
people weep at the sheer majesty of the exhibits. Shout 'bollocks' loudly and
leave.
Punch Piers Morgan
in the face and walk away. As he clutches his face in pain, return and punch
him in the scrotum. We all do this, we form a queue.
Go to Fortnum and
Masons and buy something needlessly extravagant. An expensive coat each or
something. Our casino win covers it all. Spend about £60 on posh Fortnum
chocolates and scoff them all on the way to the Soho Theatre to see an
afternoon show or two if we can squeeze them in, which we can because it's my
dream.
Evening drawers
near. Time for a curry and some pints. Then it's off to the Comedy Store for a
show: Paul Merton, Stewart Lee, David Mitchell, Stephen Fry, and the recently
revived Morecambe and Wise perform.
Book into a hotel
for the night and get thrown out four minutes later for throwing the TV out the
window because I've always wanted to do that. It's one of the big old fashioned
TVs too, not a flat one.
Climb to the top
of the Shard, discarding clothes on the way up till we just have swimming
costumes on, because from the top of the Shard there is a slide like the one in
the Barclay’s advert that twists and turns all round London and lands us in Buckingham Palace. Get ready to go out. Boys whack out
an episode on one of our box sets and crack open the drinks. Girls continue
getting ready. Pre-drinks in the Queen's drawing room with our luxury Selfridge’s
vodka. Ring Of Fire, Polish Poker, and Gravy Train (TM) get us all nicely
wasted.
Head out to a
cocktail bar. Find £20 on the floor, we don't need it because of our Punto
Banco millions but it's always nice to find one.
Cocktails and
drunken antics. Hop between roofs to get to the clubs. End up in the biggest
club in the world with a VIP pass and free drinks. Most of us end up in the
room playing cheesy music, but whenever we leave the room we come back with an
amazing tale of what happened to us or who we bumped into in another room. At
one point we get the whole room to do the wanking-off-the-elephant dance in
perfect time.
At the end of the
night, we leave the club and the wind blows our expensive Fortnum and Mason's
coats dramatically, as the club explodes behind us. None of us flinch. Luke
captures the moment perfectly on his camera and it looks like a movie poster.
We all get given big canvass copies of it for our walls and use it as our cover
photos on Facebook.
We jump on a
roller coaster like in the other Barclays advert (this day is in no way
sponsored by Barclays, though their money would be gladly accepted to make it
come true) and it takes us to Turkish Delight in Cheltenham for kebabs.
Leaving Turkish we
bump into the cast of Community and
I propose to Alison Brie. Everything fades to black before she answers, because
who doesn't love an ambiguous ending?
The whole day is
narrated by a very high Greg Proops.
