Since the actor has narrated nearly every piece of film since The Shawshank Redemption, and he has played everything from a convict to God himself, I figure he should hold a contest to cement his status as the world's most popular go-to guy for voiceovers. How should the contest roll? That's a detail I'll let some young, eager intern figure out.
But the winner gets a small film crew to follow him around for a week. Some hollywood editor-types shrink it down to a manageable hour or hour and a half suitable for the web. I write the copy. Morgan narrates.
Boom!
A couple of excerpts from my example pitch (in Mr. Freeman's world-famous tone, of course):
"Jason woke to the screams of a toddler. It was five past five. A full hour and forty minutes before his alarm clock should have woken him. He rolled over and slammed his fist on the clock for spite, rolled out of bed and stepped barefoot onto the large peg of a wooden train car..."
"Now, when Jason was a boy, he dreamed of writing. Of waking up eager to get his thoughts down on paper and share his insight with the world. Not drinking himself to sleep with a cheap box of wine after an evening of not writing a single word. That's right. Not. One. Word."
The name for the contest? "MorganMe". Double boom.
You can thank me with cash, Mr. Freeman's Publicist.
Write a blurb that Mr. Freeman could narrate about YOUR life and post it in the comments below. Everyone with a solid effort gets a copy of my ebook, "On The Gathering Storm".
ha! Morgan ME! The best part is hitting the alarm clock "out of spite"!
ReplyDelete"What? Zombies? You're kidding. No one wants to hear about zombies, much less read love stories about the nasty things." Two stories and a book proposal a year later, changed Stacey's mind about how popular culture works in America.
ReplyDeleteYes! Morgan Freeman voicing a zombie flick! I can dig that!
ReplyDeleteHey, you stole my opening, since my morning was very similar (kid woke up, which woke up the cat and I had to get up, chase the cat, throw him in the garage and couldn't get back to sleep- all one hour before I was supposed to be up).
ReplyDeleteSo how about this?
Cyndi's husband reminds her to stop at the bank on her way to work. She assures him she will, then pulls out of the driveway.
Listening to the radio, she starts obsessing about the damn book again, how editing sucks, why it couldn't have just been perfect to start with, should she even be a writer, and what does it all matter anyway.
She parks in the garage at work, gets out and a coworker says hello, startling her out of her thoughts. She doesn't even know how she got to work and, dammit all anyway, she forgot to stop at the frickin' bank.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I can hear Freeman narrating it -- all his intonations and pauses. It's perfect, Cyndi!
ReplyDeleteYou can tell a lot about a woman by what she keeps in her nightstand.
ReplyDeleteAs he cleaned out the overstuffed drawer, Jerry wondered about this lady he was married to, and what the real meaning was behind each of the odd items he unearthed during his unsupervised attempt to de-clutter their bedroom.
Not one, but two sewing kits, a blue light, eleven different candles, a handful of outdated fitness magazines, five expired massage oil type products in various scents, a can of pepper spray and a bottle of Tile-X Mold remover…
Funny, Mauri, I'm simply certain that the least regular thing in that nightstand is actually the mold remover.
ReplyDeleteI wonder how many takes Mr. Freeman would use in his narration of your life story. A great many I would imagine... He would be spoiling them with his own laughter-- and I mean that in a good way. You are hilarious. :)