Friday, October 14, 2022

Hallmark of quality dreaming.

So, to continue the theme of dreaming from yesterday, I beg you to be patient while I relate a dream I had. It actually had a plot that came to a reasonable resolution. That's because it followed the logic of a Hallmark Christmas movie, albeit one that could never be made. 

Why a Hallmark movie? Maybe because the Christmas is already starting to elbow Halloween out of the stores.

Christmas is coming.
It's practically here. 

And I'm not ready for any of the holidays. 

But here's the plot -- and just take it as read that throughout the dream I was sometimes the protagonist, sometimes just a viewer. 


A guy (we'll call him Jack) is in town as the local family-owned department store is gearing up for its famous Christmas season displays. Jack owns a shop that repairs and renovates old machines; good blue-collar man with handy skills. He's happy to see the store is in full swing, but when he goes in to browse through its comic book section (it has an excellent book department), a girl of about ten (Suzie) tells him this is the last Christmas. A woman pops up -- the girl's aunt; she works in the store and is also trying to watch her sister's kids for the day. The woman (Alice? Why not) tells Jack that COVID sent the store into heavy debt and also killed two of the older members of the family that own it. Online shopping has also wrecked its finances. The store has been sold to a venture capitalist, who is considered likely to tear it down and build a Walgreens or a CVS or both on the spot, along with other chain stuff. Jack also meets Suzie's little sister, Sweets, who is six and doesn't speak because of her terrible shyness. However, she is going to appear in the store's pageant, and is dressed like a little clown (the cute type) complete with rainbow wig. She carries a Harpo Marx type bike horn, with which she does communicate -- short blasts, sad moans, and so on -- throughout the movie. 

Word gets out that the venture capitalist is going to give a speech in the town square with the mayor. Everyone is furious at this guy, so when the mayor, a genial old lady named Gwen, introduces him, they boo him off the stage. It's an ugly scene; the man (looked a little like young Bill Clinton from afar) is hounded into his limo and all the way to the little county airport, where he flies off in his private plane. 

After a commercial break, and probably a good deal of time-wasting with drama and romance, Jack and Alice and the girls speak to the elderly accountant who handles the store's finances. He dresses all in white -- suit, shirt, tie, shoes, hat, even carries a white stick. He gives them the facts of life -- the townsfolk have probably ruined the only chance they had to have something remain on this spot with economic viability. If he were that investor, he'd sell the store at a loss to someone who would promise to build a parking lot out of it, or he'd just hold on to the property while the store closed and fell into a wreck. (Lileks readers may see the influence of his sorrowful Main Street feature here.) Their only hope is to apologize to the investor and try to get him back on board.

Jack loads them all into his van -- Mayor Gwen, the accountant, Alice, Suzie, and even Sweets (still dressed as a clown) -- and they drive all the way to the Big City to try to find the guy. After some bonding adventures along the way, they get to his office. Only Suzie's little-girl earnestness gets the admin to help, as she tells them the investor has gone to spend the Christmas season alone in his cabin. He's out of contact... but they get the address. 

More seriocomic adventures follow as they go into the mountains. At last they meet the venture capitalist again (now played by Kelsey Grammer). He allows them in but only will speak with the adults, so the sisters stay outside the room. However, while Jack and Alice beg forgiveness and plead for the store, we see, from Kelsey's vantage point, the door slowly open, and then a little rainbow wig start to rise next to Alice from behind the desk. Sweets toots her horn and breaks the tension. 

Kelsey gets down to brass tacks -- if they can show him that the store can at least make a profit over the next two years, he will keep it afloat. Gwen and the accountant get to work with him, with numbers and municipal promises, and after some time they all come to an agreement. Then everybody loads up back in the van to go to the store and announce that it has been saved. 

Happy ending. Sweets finally speaks -- telling Jack she loves him -- and Alice does the same. Jack reciprocates. Cue snow, crane shot, the end.

🎄🎅🤶⛄❆

So that's my screenplay, and it would never be made. Too many Christmas advertisers are online vendors like Amazon, who are the unseen villains of the piece. COVID is still too hot-button an issue, and may remind viewers that Made In China not only refers to most of the stuff they will buy for the holidays but also the Wuhan Mystery Flu that has killed close to 7 million people. 

The point I wanted to make is, that unlike my typical dreams, the plot made sense, and rather than trail off into nonsense it ended in the right place, and I woke up. Very unusual for dreams. So now I wonder what I was eating the night before. If I could can it, I could sell it as Fred's Special Writer's Block Busting Eats. Made in the USA, of course. 

1 comment:

Dan said...

I used to have dreams that were quite like movies --- opening credits, closing credits, the works. I never remembered the content, just those peripherals. Of course I've never been able to read printed words in my dreams, I just remembered the style and format.