#also fucking stellar job to the director the casting director the writers and producers

[eternallovers65]

The Bear s2ep6 is what succession is but for poor people

[nettvnow-blog]

All For One Has Something For Everyone

All For One is yet another Canadian web series. I’m mostly very sick of them, and most of them are bad. Luckily, this one is not. Produced by Cherrydale Productions, distributed by KindaTV, and written by Sarah Shelson  and RJ Lackie (Inhuman Condition), All For One invites inevitable comparison to Kinda’s most famous property by manifesting as a queer-tinted modern-day remake of a classic literary work captured entirely by webcam. I originally planned to write this review without acknowledging that comparison, partly because doing so would be a pain in the ass, but moreso because A4O does not have the same problem with being compared to Carmilla most other web series might: it doesn’t pale in comparison. It’s not really fair to either show to say one is better than the other (A4O has one season, Carmilla has three), but for those of you who keep fandom power rankings, I’d take A4O’s first season over Carm’s, which is the only apples-to-apples comparison to be made. Inevitable comparison over with, let’s talk about the actual show now. It’s The Three Musketeers, but about sororities and super queer. You wanna know more about the plot than that, go watch the damn thing; this is a review, not a summary. Structurally, the show revolves around nominal main character Dorothy’s webcam, with her never-seen-except-as-IMs crew of internet besties (“the Inseparables”) serving as a modern day Greek chorus, chirping away in the margins. This is a very smart creative decision for a few reasons*. First, it allows the writers to manipulate tone and pace on the fly by injecting comic relief, self-awareness, and/or cheap pathos whenever the fuck they feel like it without eating up that most precious of web series resources: screentime. Second, it allows them to multi-task; one plot line may be advancing on-screen while a second plays out quietly among the Inseparables (occasionally joined by whichever lead characters aren’t appearing in a given episode). Third, it gives the writing team (Lackie/Shelson) an easy counter to one of Lackie’s writerly crutches; almost all of Lackie’s characters are prone to bouts of plot-centric myopia, and in the past his shows have allowed, if not downright enabled, them to get away it, but with an ever-present jury firing off incisive running commentary, characters are generally (and effectively) called out when they start to go down that road. Not all of them course correct, but once the issue’s been dragged into the narrative, that becomes a feature, not a bug. Speaking of writing…

*Worth noting is that many, maybe even all, of the Inseparables are characters from other shows. I only caught two of them myself, but I’m assured that there are others. One is from Carmilla, making me feel better about giving in to the cheap comparison above, and the best of the bunch is from Lackie’s older web series, Santiago. It’s likewise worth noting that neither Lackie nor Shelson has (to my knowledge) ever admitted to either of those, but I’m not an idiot and hopefully neither are you, dear reader, so let’s call a cameo a cameo and move on with the review.

A4O is an excellently written show, and not just by the admittedly low bar set by web series. I haven’t seen any of Shelson’s other work, so I can’t speak to how the partnership affects her, but what I can say is that she seems to have a knack for allowing Lackie to be Lackie (which, my own pot shots at his previous monomaniacal characters non-withstanding, is a very good thing) while subtly steering him away from his bad habits and injecting her own high-energy voice and full-auto black market machine-gun pacing. A4O does an exceptional job of serving a way over-sized cast (five main characters, at least three major supporting roles, a few off-screen-but-still-developed side characters, plus the Inseparables) in a relatively brisk three hours or so; not only does every major player in the show have an arc (or several, in some cases), even the off-screen ghosts and most of the text-only Inseparables are gifted with pathos, progression, and payoff. It’s an absolute masterclass in using every available bit of narrative real-estate to build your characters and tell your story*. *Bringing up the vampiric elephant in the room one (hopefully) last time, this is something that even Carmilla never totally figured out in its three seasons, largely punting on giving its supporting players any real meat in exchange for more time with its leads. That was probably the right play for that specific show (they were really great leads), but it’s refreshing to see a web series have its cakes and eat it too in a kitchen where most of its peers, far from either having or eating cake, accidentally added salt instead of sugar to the batter and have long-since retreated to the vomitorium. For that matter, even most twenty-minute TV sitcoms with more than five or six characters generally can’t serve them all nearly as consistently/artfully as A4O**, either. ** Footnote to a footnote! Brooklyn Nine-Nine is probably the current show that comes the closest, with seven principles, two consistently present supporting players, and a large tertiary library who usually get strong, character-driven notes to play, though of course Brooklyn has roughly quadruple the screentime to work with that A4O does.  

Beyond that big-picture high-concept goodness, Lackie/Shelson also have a strong ear for banter (though both clearly watched way too much Buffy in highschool); A4O has a comedic batting average that hangs with all but the strongest of its TV brethren. They may be shorter on A+ knock-you-off-the-couch laugh grenades, but they’re firing off laugh bullets near-constantly and score at least a glancing blow with most of them. Their dramatic beats also mostly land, and they generally obey one the most oft-broken cardinal rules of good writing: thou shalt not sell-out thy characters* for either plot convenience or lazy comic beats. The writing isn’t perfect—as great as the overall pacing is, there are a couple conversations that overstay their welcome long past the point of narrative utility (occasionally to the point of undercutting what had up till then been a home-run scene), and Shelson/Lackie have never written a conversation they felt couldn’t be improved by an awkward pause or seven—but I can count on my thumbs the number of web series pilot seasons that get closer. *There’s one major exception to this, and I’ll bitch about it later when I get to the part of the review where I’m hateful jerk who ruins things I like.

Given the size of the cast, I don’t have the ink to spill to cover everybody individually, either as a character or an actor, but top-to-bottom the cast is stellar, and every single one of them should be proud of the work they did. The worst performance in the show is probably still in the B+ to A- range. Gun to my head, I’d shout out Alejandra Simmons (Alex) as the MVP of the leads and Denise Yuen (Treville) as the top dog among the supporting players, but sincerely, I’ve got nothing bad to say about the cast as a whole in twenty-nine out of thirty episodes*. *We’re almost there, pessimists. I have nothing terribly interesting to say about the direction. The cast act in front of a stationary webcam. The blocking is functional. They mostly use the setup to their advantage, cutting off scenes that work just fine implied (except as noted above). Solid, functional work that does the job, but doesn’t exactly leave you racing to the director’s IMDB. Alright, before I get into the higher-concept thematic stuff, let’s get the part where I piss all over something I really like out of the way (we all knew this was coming and when I do alone we’ll all understand why).

The show does have two major warts, and one begets the other. The first is the live episode, coming in right around the 2/3s mark of the season. It’s by far the show’s longest episode, and neither the writers nor the actors are up to the sudden formula shift, the unscripted environment, or the awkward necessity of combining what probably should have been three or four separate major sequences into one clunky stationary set-piece. One conceit of this…look, I like the cast and crew a lot here, but calling this episode anything kinder than a tire fire is being a disingenuous reviewer so… one conceit of this tire fire is that, as it aired, fans were able to masquerade as Inseparables and ask the cast live questions in-character. I’m sure it was great fun for the fans involved, but the fans involved had nothing interesting to say, and the actresses were stuck and-yessing responses without either the help of the writing staff or the freedom to really riff (as I assume the rest of the season was already pretty thoroughly structured or maybe even filmed and they couldn’t risk contradicting or redirecting anything with a careless opinion or anecdote). Oh, also, the single-set-for-twenty-minutes-and-also-they-all-need-to-get-their-turn-talking-to-the-fans setup necessitates a whole lot of contrived entering, exiting, and maneuvering that does nothing for the story and everything to remind you that you’re watching a manufactured production, and could only feel less authentic if accompanied by flashing text to the effect of “fuck your suspension of disbelief, loser.”

The episode is an amazing technical achievement in that they did it at all, but to paraphrase one of the least annoying iterations of Jeff Goldblum, they were so excited to see if they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should. While I’m sure the episode was effective as a gimmick to goose the fanbase, removed from the context of the twenty minutes where it was accomplishing that goal, it mostly just saps the narrative momentum of the show right as it was cresting, takes its actresses away from doing what they do best, and introduces the single biggest creative misstep (in this not-so-humble reviewers estimation, anyhow) of the season in Alex’s sudden, dramatic, and inorganic character shift.

…which brings us to wart number two, wherein the show’s strongest character, fed up with being the responsible one, suddenly morphs from nuanced character into a party-girl pastiche that seems more at home on MadTV than KindaTV. While the idea behind the change is a decent one (Alex lashes out against her role as “Mom”) it scans totally false for the character we’ve been given, doesn’t fit the tone of the show, and doesn’t serve much narrative purpose beyond forcing one of the other leads into the leadership role (there were better ways to get there), and letting actress Simmons show off her comic chops (which, granted, are sharp). It’s also completely devoid of the nuance and verisimilitude that otherwise permeates not only Simmons’ work but the show’s character-writing in general. In a world where every other character is consistently, painfully, beautifully themselves at their own expense, turning the best of the bunch into a cartoonish punchline for three episodes or so fucks up the emotional feng shui something fierce. I suspect the writers might even agree with me, as the gimmick is quietly dropped a few episodes later with no lasting consequences.

Now, that was a negative couple paragraphs, but let’s put it all in perspective: ultimately, A4O has one bad episode out of thirty. Show me another show with a better batting average and I’ll show you Banshee, which I’ve previously described as “the best show on television*”. *And as “The Ballad of Sheriff Punch,” though that’s neither here nor there. Beyond that, the show’s only real creative misfire happens to its best character and isn’t bad enough to keep her from staying its best character. I’m picking nits here, and I’m using some very precise tweezers and a microscope to pick them. I’m also done doing it. Onto the abstraction! One of the most incredible things about A4O is how many hats it manages to wear. It’s a comedy and a drama, sure, but it’s also a character study… scratch that, six or seven character studies. It’s also The Three Musketeers and sometimes it’s Animal House. It’s a virtuoso performance of an increasingly well-traveled formula, but thanks to its Inseparable gimmickry, it’s also the only show of its kind. It’s about persistence, and friendship, and admitting when you’re wrong, but it’s also about ambition, and narrative, and perspective, and bikini fund-raisers that end when one of the show’s stronger supporting players marches in cheerfully proclaiming “Hi. I’m here to ruin everything.” This is a show that tries to do about three-hundred* more things than any other web series out there**, and somehow feels less rushed, crowded, or inept than any of its competitors. * Estimated. I’m not a math person, I swear on my thirteenth finger. ** Well, beside Next Time On Lonny, I guess, but the whole point of that show was that it did everything. All that narrative ambition and versatility feeds back into the show’s characters, allowing them to exist in more dimensions than their screentime ought to allow. Pay attention to Yuen’s Treville, and note how much we learn about her simply from the things she owns or the way her eyes react to a certain name or an unexpected offer. I doubt she’s on-screen more than seven or eight minutes in the whole show, but she’s got more depth and nuance than anyone outside of the two leads on that apparently inescapable point of comparison*. This is something Lackie’s shown before in flashes (the bodyguard from Inhuman Condition is arguably its most interesting character and might not have ten lines), but here its displayed consistently. Almost all of the Inseparables have at least two or three layers to them, and that’s without the benefit of an performer to embody them or any capacity to meaningfully interact with the A-plot. *Last time, I swear. For the record, I do *really* like Carmilla, and it’s because I like it so much (and because it’s so much better than web series have any right to be**) that it’s such a useful measuring stick to show exactly how impressive A4O is at its best. ** I’ve previously compared its second season favorably and mostly sincerely to Shakespeare.

That’s not to say the leads are underdeveloped, either; in contrast to, say, Parks and Rec, where every character seems to exist solely to populate the Parks Department, all of A4Os feel lived in, with rich personal histories and plenty of implicit relationships and interests we don’t need to see or even hear about to take as read. Shelson & Lackie do an excellent job of letting the things they do reveal or spend time on imply a thousand more they don’t, and it’s the sort of expansive and elegant world-building you never get from web series* and rarely get from anything.  *Credit where its due, Inhuman Condition was similarly economical at building its world, but not nearly as adept at bread-crumbing the personal histories of its principles. More than all that, though, at the end of the day, A4O is just fucking fun. The heroes have Sepinwall’s oft-discussed but rarely attained “I don’t even care if they’re not being funny right now, I like them and I just wanna hang out with them,” vibe, the villains are enthusiastic and memorable without succumbing to camp, and even the damn theme music is smiley. The emotional moments (mostly) feel earned and make you feel feelings, and they’re paced properly to do it without burning you out or risking diminishing returns.

Since it’s nominally a KindaTV show and I didn’t spend any time on the gender politics, I’ll awkwardly pause here to quickly note that A4O is pleasantly open-minded and inclusive. These people care about telling these stories respectfully and for as many people as possible, and it shows.

End of day, A4O is television in microcosm. It’s funny and cute and sad and angry and it’s still got time for both nerf gun duels and planted meth. It’s got close friends and bitter rivals, will-they-won’t-they’s and wish-they-wouldn’ts. It’s a pleasant place to escape to when you’re feeling shitty, and it’s a great neighborhood to show your friends around when you’re feeling good. It’s inventive and ambitious and yet familiar and comfortable. It’s great actresses (and actors) giving strong performances of sharp lines equally charged with uniquely subtle character biases and peppy Lackie-banter, all done at Shelson’s bullet-train pace that somehow never feels rushed and always gets you to exactly where you need to be. It’s fearless but rarely reckless, smart but never condescending, and sweet without ever veering into twee-town. It’s got all your favorite things from classic literature and modern television, and yet it’s something you’ve never quite seen before. It’s one of a kind, for now, and that’s a shame. Incidentally, it’s also currently fundraising to make another season. How’s that old Musketeer mantra go again?  All for one and whatever amount you feel comfortable donating for All For One…  

Written by Nick Feldman.  

[viralhottopics]

6 Hilariously Improbable Events That Resulted In Huge Movies

Hey, remember that Final Destination franchise from all the way back in 2011? You know, it’s the one where a clowder of hapless teens get hunted by Death through a series of overly elaborate, Rube Goldberg-style horrors. Well, it turns out that sometimes this same over-the-top domino effect can be applied to how films get made (including Final Destination, which started as an X-Files spec script). A butterfly flaps its wings in Beijing, and Jeff Goldblum ends up shirtless on a table in Hollywood, basically.

Some films end up creating a gigantic ripple of success and artistic inspiration … all from a single unassuming start. Here are such times when the road to the cinematic immortality was paved with random nobodies, stupid coincidences, and just plain dumb luck…

6

The Alien Franchise Exists Because Of Literal Nightmares

From the creature design to the directing, the first Alien has always been a poster child for the unspeakable horrors you can accomplish through collaborative effort. With that in mind, none of it would have been possible without writers Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett first coming up with the story. They are the face-huggers to Alien‘s uh… alien. This was O’Bannon’s second film as a screenwriter, one that would have never existed without the frustrating failure of his first.

Dark Star was a John Carpenter sci-fi comedy about people exploding planets in space, and O’Bannon hadn’t simply written it, but also designed and supervised the special effects. It was this (not his writing) that got the attention of weirdo director Alejandro Jodorowsky, who at the time was working on an ultimately shelved Dune film. O’Bannon was brought on Dune‘s production where he met a creepy Swiss artist working on the film’s set and character design. His name was H.R. Giger, and you might find his work on Dune a bit familiar.

To put this guy in perspective — upon their initial introduction, H.R. Giger immediately offered O’Bannon opium. And when asked why he himself took it, Giger bleakly responded “I am afraid of my visions.” If Werner Herzog had night terrors, it would be personified in H.R. Giger’s ghastly Scandinavian gaze. His paintings are what Satan uses to get an erection.

Dune was sci-fi failure #2, and after production was closed down O’Bannon found himself running out of work, and consequently money (which is commonly a thing you get in exchange for work). In what was no doubt an act of pre-hooking desperation, he and Shusett dug up yet another old failure — a story about monsters attacking a WWII bomber (which later became a segment in the 1981 animated “film” Heavy Metal — a series of events we’ve previously discussed).

Like some kind of mad scientist, O’Bannon spliced this story with another failed horror script about bug monsters, added a re-written scene from Dark Star, and somehow churned out Alien. Meanwhile, H.R. Giger was developing a terrifying artistic portfolio based on his childhood nightmares — one example being a painting called “Necronom IV.”

That’s one of two nightmares that will come into play, this first fruition appearing in an H.R. Giger art book that O’Bannon gave to Ridley Scott while developing Alien. Nightmare number two came from Shusett who, after a day of writing, woke up in the middle of the night with the idea that the alien could impregnate a crew member through their throat — meaning that nearly every aspect of these creatures was quite literally the stuff of nightmares.

5

You Can Thank The 2003 California Gubernatorial Recall Election For HBO’s Westworld

In the early 2000s, California underwent an energy crisis, presumably after everyone left their tanning bed on overnight. As bills tripled and the anger grew, a representative named Darrell Issa donated two million dollars to a small group collecting signatures for a gubernatorial recall. It was this money that boosted their efforts in a historic moment for the United States: a new Westworld TV show.

We should probably explain.

HBO “Yes, please. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on in this show.” — Anthony Hopkins

See, after successfully reaching enough signatures, it was the actually historic recall of Governor Gray Davis that sparked one of the weirdest elections ever — eventually boiling down to this veiny cup of whatever Austrians drink instead of water:

Playboy And by “ever” we mean “before 2016,” of course.

Arnold Schwarzenegger threw his hat into the governor ring and came out with a whopping 48.6 percent of the vote. This was in October of 2003, and along with shaping the future of California, it panicked a butt-ton of producers who had previously attached the hulky destroyer to upcoming films. One such producer was Jerry Weintraub, who had cast Arnold as the Yul Brynner role in an upcoming remake of that enduring ’70s sci-fi cowboy classic, Westworld. As we’re sure you can guess, this did not end up happening, and the project was shelved indefinitely — or in producer-speak, “until someone big enough shows interest in it.” That took two years.

Variety “We’ll begin shooting in 2008 with Heath Ledger, Bernie Mac, Anna Nicole Smith, and President Gerald Ford.”

In 2005, Weintraub once again set his sights on this ridiculous film — this time with the director of The Cell attached. This, unsurprisingly, did not make Westworld the exciting filmmaking opportunity that studios were scrambling over, and so Jerry moved on to another project while letting his baby degrade on the back burner. That project was a little TV movie about Liberace starring Michael Douglas, Matt Damon, and Matt Damon’s glittery thong.

In the biggest plot twist yet, the HBO-made Douglas/Damon smooch-fest was a hit… causing Weintraub to turn to the network for a Westworld series. The rest is excessively naked history. And hey, Schwarzenegger is finally available now, so maybe they can throw him a bone and cast him as a background extra or something.

4

We Wouldn’t Have The Entire Marvel Cinematic Universe If It Wasn’t For Superman: The Movie

It turns out a DC Comics movie is responsible for Marvel’s current cinematic dominance, but not in the way you’re probably thinking. This long goddamn journey starts with a producer named Lauren Shuler Donner, whose husband you might recognize as Richard Donner — director of such insanely diverse hits as The Goonies, The Omen, and of course, 1978’s Superman: The Movie.

Superman was a hit, but this didn’t instantly result in every single over-pantsed defender getting his own movie — remember, it would take over a decade for even Batman to get one. However, the Donner flick did nab the attention of a five-year-old named Kevin who, like five-year-olds tend to do, became enamored with this genre of mighty punchers. His fandom eventually turned into a job at the Donners’ Company as Lauren’s assistant. As she puts it, “one of the main reasons Kevin managed to get himself an intern position at our company was because of Superman: The Movie, [that freaking nerd].”

Lauren went on to make a few disaster films, like Volcano and the harrowing You’ve Got Mail, before becoming inspired by her husband’s action background and buying the rights to the X-Men franchise in 1994. Feeling his intense ray of nerdiness, she gave her then-assistant Kevin a producing role on the first X-film, where he instantly became “a walking encyclopedia of Marvel.” Usually that just makes you very good at internet message board arguments, but in Kevin’s case, it led him to this:

That’s right. It’s Kevin Feige — not Bacon as you were all no doubt guessing. Having been inspired by that first Superman film, Feige beelined directly to the Donners before getting thrown into X-Men and scooped up by Marvel. It was there that he continued to read an endless number of comics and work closely with directors making Spider-Man, X2, and Daredevil until 2005, when Marvel decided to make their own studio. In 2007, Kevin was named the chief of that studio and began to develop what would go on to be this jumbled mess of media:

The Marvel Cinematic Universe gave way to an entirely new method for making movies, now being applied to Star Wars, Lego, and even the goddamn The Mummy. It’s completely changed franchises and made a once-bankrupt Marvel Studios the hottest goddamn game in town… all ironically thanks to a fucking DC Comics movie. Thanks a bunch, you sulky jerks!

3

A Mailing Error By A Fresno Librarian Kicked Off The “Brat Pack” Era

All you Val-speaking, Atari-playing, AIDS-epidemic-ignoring ’80s kids no doubt perk up at the mention of the “Brat Pack,” but in case you’re scratching your supple 20-something heads, we’re referring to a group of young actors who swarmed Hollywood around the early 1980s. Luminaries like Rob Lowe, Tom Cruise, Demi Moore, and all those The Breakfast Club motherfuckers were birthed from this era. The phrase “Brat Pack” was coined in a New York article, and became the soil in which a lot of pretty careers were cultivated.

Also, it was started by this lady:

Her name is Jo Ellen Misakian, and back in 1972 she was hired as a librarian aide at the Lone Star School in Fresno, California. While there, she noticed that the naturally reading-averse students all loved the same book, so she helped them start a petition to turn it into a movie. After attempting (and failing) to contact the author, Jo Ellen decided to just take a shot in the dark and mail the book to a known director instead. The book, by the way, was The Outsiders — the basis for the very first of the Brat Pack films, which kicked off the stellar careers of actors like Cruise, Lowe, Emilio Estevez, Patrick Swayze, Matt Dillon, Ralph Macchio, that other guy, and that other other guy.

And this never would have existed as a film if it wasn’t for Mrs. Misakian, her plucky kid pals, and the fact that she totally fucked up mailing their petition.

You see, after deciding Francis Ford Coppola should direct the movie, Misakian found his New York address in the reference section of the Fresno library and mailed a copy of the petition there — but Coppola was living in Los Angeles at the time. The New York address was outdated and unused… and, consequently, got very little mail. However, it just so happened that Coppola was in New York that week, and was able to personally see the letter for that reason.

According to a producer there at the time, “It was lucky for the kids that we were in New York when it was sent over.” Eventually, Coppola read the attached book, optioned it, and then began production on the film, all while maintaining a correspondence with the librarian who first sent it to him.

In the end, the film was attributed to Misakian and her class — the closing credits saying, “The film The Outsiders is dedicated to the people who first suggested that it be made — librarian Jo Ellen Misakian and the students of The Lone Star School in Fresno, California.” The Brat Pack was born, and like a thousand careers started… all because a librarian sucked at tracking down someone’s more-current address.

2

Jurassic World And The New Star Wars Got Their Director From A Silly ’90s Magazine Ad

After culturally blue-balling us with talking raptors, the Jurassic Park franchise re-exploded the box office with Jurassic World‘s $1.6 billion dollars in ticket sales. World will go on to get a sequel (obviously), and the director is now working on Episode IX of Star Wars. And oddly enough, it was back in the decade when the first Jurassic Park became a hit (and we all thought Star Wars prequels would be, like, the raddest shit ever) that an author named John Silveira was inadvertently shaping all these events, like a secret John Hammond.

Back in the ’90s, Silveira would occasionally submit content for Backwoods Home Magazine. His job was to fill in gaps of the magazine’s classified section with whatever joke bullshit that came into his head. It was a fun gig with a specific and sparse readership, by definition.

Then, one day in 1997, Silveira was asked to contribute right before a deadline (what kind of backwoods magazi– oh, right). Without any prepared jokes, he remembered the opening lines to an old unfinished novel he had been working on years back. With the clock ticking, John spun the words into a fake classified ad and submitted the following:

Yes. That ad. Silveira had created what would later become a meme that would inspire Colin Trevorrow to make an indie film called Safety Not Guaranteed, about a dude looking for a time-travel partner. Not long after, director Brad Bird was being approached by Disney and Lucasfilm to direct the next Star Wars film — and in turning it down for Tomorrowland (yikes), Bird recommended they watch Trevorrow’s little movie.

In short, two major sci-fi franchises ended up being completely dependent on an indie comedy director who was inspired by some joke-writing weirdo in Southern California. And speaking of stuff Spielberg once touched…

1

Like Schindler’s List And The Coen Brothers? You Can Thank The Evil Dead For That

It’s not exactly controversial to say that the Coen Brothers are two of the most influential and iconic directors of this era. We also probably won’t get any hate mail for praising Liam Neeson’s performance in Schindler’s List, or really any of his subsequent roles. What will sound insane, however, is that all of these things are of direct result of the 1981 horror film The Evil Dead. You know, the one where a woman gets fucked by trees before turning into a Kandarian basement demon.

It was on this film that a young Joel Coen was working as an assistant editor while trying to make his debut with a script he co-wrote with his brother. While there, director Sam Raimi convinced the Coens to shoot a fake trailer for their script, which subsequently led to them finding investors for the movie — eventually called Blood Simple. You might recognize this as the pivotal moment leading to decades of amazing films like The Big Lebowski, No Country For Old Men, The Hudsucker Proxy, and certainly not Garfield (common mistake).

Meanwhile, while casting Blood Simple, the brothers went to see a play called Crimes Of The Heart. It featured Holly Hunter, who they immediately wanted to cast… but couldn’t, for scheduling reasons. However, Hunter went home from the audition and mentioned the film to her roommate: Frances McDormand. Frances, of course, would go on to kick ass in the role, marry Joel Coen, and play one of the most badass baby-ovens to ever point a gun at Peter Stormare.

And it gets weirder. Because while Holly didn’t get the role in Blood Simple, she would later move into a Silverlake home with both Coen brothers, McDormand, and Raimi — who at the time was writing Evil Dead II on the porch. Cut to a few years later, and a young actor named Bill Paxton got a phone call from his friend James Cameron asking if he had heard of Evil Dead II. When Paxton said no, Mr. Titanic rushed him to a local showing, as any loyal friend would. After falling in love with Raimi’s slapstick horror style, B-Pax auditioned for the director’s follow-up, Darkman. You with us so far?

According to Paxton (who later worked with Raimi on A Simple Plan), while he got super close to landing the role, he “made the mistake” of informing another friend about the movie as well. It was Liam Neeson.

Neeson got the role and killed it as the titular rubber-faced rage goon in Darkman, which was then seen by a stage actress named Natasha Richardson. At the time, Richardson was putting together a production of Anna Christie, and thanks to Darkman, she pursued Neeson to play a role. Not only would his performance in the show end in a marriage with Richardson, but it would grab the attention of a director in the audience… who at the time was casting an upcoming film called Schindler‘s Fucking List.

YEP. Liam Neeson’s entire career exploded because Bill Paxton was dragged to a screening of Evil Dead II and fell in love. Consider this yet another reason he’s going to be deeply missed. RIP, you ultimate badass.

David is an editor and columnist for Cracked. Please direct all your goddamn “hellos” to his Twitter account.

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