For you, Damien…

23 01 2007

Amazing how I am able to get so darn obsessive about things that are none of my bedarned business. The Omen, for example. I have never seen the movie. Either movie. Any movie. Yet since it became my new perseveration–nay, since before then–I seem to have a lot of emotional energy invested in people and circumstances I have no reason (let alone means) to be involved in.

For a bit of background: As a branch of my horror movie obsession, I began researching anything that would give me insights to help me give my characters the desired levels of creepiness or non-creepiness. After satisfying my curiosity over the slashers and subsequently panicking over the possibility of plagiarism, I moved on to the that-kid-ain’t-right subgenre and, uh, subsequently panicked over the possibility of plagiarism. But something more happened in between juggling my guilt over such interest in often sacreligious works of fiction and compulsively digging up every bit of information on them I could find: I had a weird dream that colored the characterization of my own fiction and also increased my focus on one specific film (much to my good-girl vexation).

I really wish I could find that stupid page in the digital landfill, because I described the dream in full there. I am currentlly searching through it, but this might take awhile. (Also, I have a reading and writing assignment for school that I should be attending to. If only my attention span were longer–nay, more diversely applicable, so I could use my intense focus on things other people actually care about!)

Ooh, snap! I think I found it.

Yep, here it is, dozens of pages deep in the site.

Dear Diary, Several nights ago, I had an odd dream in which I was basically wandering around an academic sort of building full of labyrinthine-yet-straight white hallways and formally-dressed adults who seemed in quite a rush to get around and attend to their business, whatever it was, and I was talking to my friend. My friend was a nine-year-old boy whose life would at some point in the near future overlap with the plotline of a movie but (in the continuity of my dream) had not yet done so. That movie was The Omen. Yep, Damien Thorn the Antichrist. I know that the movie starts off much earlier than that, but I guess my dream was completely different in that respect–some of my dreams involve doors that never open to the same place twice and my having unreliable magical powers, so I can accept a dream where a movie starts off in a different place than its real-world counterpart, right? Anyway, I thought that it would be unfair to hold somebody accountable for something that had not yet happened, so I continued being friendly to him. And you know what? I felt darn lucky to have a friend. Normally I sit around in my dormitory all day except for classes when I am occasionally forced to muddle through an awkward exchange in Japanese with somebody whose name I was supposed to have learned at the beginning of the semester. Then I talk to my sister on instant messenger IF she happens to be online, and after a few LOLs and ROFLs she logs off, leaving me in my isolated little hole to wither alone and unnoticed. Yeah, my roommate…uh…sits about three feet away from me, and I never have any compulsion to talk to her, so I know I have no right to complain. Sorry about all that. I will be moving back to the original topic now. *deep breath* ANYWAY…except for a rather unexpected episode of Damien climbing some white lattice thingy that was situated in the middle of one of the building’s few open spaces for no apparent reason, feverishly reciting out of a dusty old book in a foreign language while all the normal folks looked on in wonder and in some cases concern, he seemed pretty normal. Actually, he reminded me of my father’s girlfriend’s son, a nice but attention-starved twelve-year-old who loves anime, video games, and anime video games. Yeeaahh. Anyaway, I heard that there was going to be a showing of The Omen somewhere in that odd building, so naturally I was quite curious. I navigated my way through those corridors–always perpendicular but still managing to be quite a mess–until I found a little goldish room with a projector focused on one wall and several adults standing around to watch. Naturally I thought my new friend should accompany me, but it turned out he was underaged and was not allowed in. (The irony–being forbidden to see a movie about himself!) I thought it would be quite rude if I ditched him for a movie, so I left and joined him in the adjacent room. I think there was popcorn and candy available, but I do not remember if it was permissible for anyone to touch it; consequently I do not remember if we made any attempt to obtain it. The…um…end, I guess. Gosh, that was weird. I suppose the consequence of perseverating on a movie before having seen it is dreams with distortions of plot and character…such as the time years ago when chibi Jason Voorhees appeared in my dream and chainsawed me to death. Chibi Jason…haha. (That instance with Jason, by the way, marked the second time I have died in one of my dreams, thus disproving the old urban myth that if you die in your dreams, you die in real life. The first time was when I was little and I dreamed I fell into an open sewer and drowned while the lion in charge [and all its happy animial friends] lay around doing nothing. Maybe should have told my findings to Freddy, who also used to make his share of dream cameos around the same time as the Jason incident. Additionally–please excuse my tangent.) I am sooooooo weird. The inner workings of my mind really belong in a landfill. Nobody reads it anyway, right? RIGHT? Love always, Violet Black

The number on that entry is 061107, which I assume from the other dates translates to November 11, 2006. Not sure if that is relevant to my present rant or not.

Anyway, what this entry is about is that I finally found a real-life connection to the dream. The kid who played Damien, Seamus Davey-Fitzpatrick (and do not dare to ask me to articulate that correctly at a conversational cadence), was never told exactly what was going on in the movie he was acting in. Nothing about the devil, nothing about the death scenes: they gave him only as much information as was needed to play his role. He is too young to watch the darn thing! They say they plan on letting him watch the movie when he is old enough. In how many years is that? What if he does not like what they got him into? In nonfiction there is no retconning.

Everyone says he is a normal, nice little kid. Now, if a normal, nice little seven-year-old (now older, I suppose, but still to my knowledge unaware of the plot of the movie) would not be able to handle the knowledge that he is playing the Antichrist/son of Satan, why would that same normal, nice teenager be thrilled to learn that he had played such a character in the past, especially without being informed of it all? I am bothered by this. And I am angry at his parents for being so mercenary with their little baby. And it is none of my business. And I should be working on reading/responding to that darn boring globalization article thingy. Here lies the root of much of my procrastination, I believe: passionate interest in things that are so far removed from me as to have no bearing on my academic/financial/personal well-being, and things against which commonplace assignments cannot compare in their level of emotional gravity.

God bless thee, Seamus.

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One response

24 01 2007
Gibbermad

I presume the URL is of your OWN blog.

As to Damien, I agree, child actors and parents (more the parents really) are kinda weird… Anyway, as to not being told about the other parts, i have my doubts that it was out of any concern for the child’s welfare, this is Hollywood after all, but rather it’s much easier to get a believable performance out of a child if they only know a little. Even in High School my director (I was in several theatrical productions in HS) would encourage us not to watch parts of the show that we wouldn’t know about, because that knowledge can negatively influence your character, because things you don’t know can cause your acting to alter in very ‘unrealistic’ ways. Damien was probably kept in the dark because the directors feared that if he knew he was supposed to be the Antichrist than he would try and act like a seven year old thinks that the Antichrist should act, potentially ruining the performance.

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