A filmmaker set out to make a horror movie. Strange things happened.
I promise to continue the timeline from the making of the movie Thursday. Tomorrow I have a meeting at Lionsgate regarding a TV project I created, that I have to prepare for today. Wish me luck.
In the meantime, here is a pivotal moment in the book, where the filmmaker J.D. Loveless and his actress Charlotte Rae are in LA screening an unfinished version of the movie for an independent movie distributor named Bob and his young wife and business partner Shatari.
Check out what happens.
EXCERPT:
When the movie reached the crucial point where Charlotte's character played the record backwards and the unholy lyrics began to issue forth with an otherworldly echo effect, Shatari's nose began to bleed.
"Oh," the Hindu woman said in mild surprise as she cupped the blood that was running out of her nose. Seconds later, it began to gush out.
"Shatari? Shatari, are you alright?" Bob was alarmed.
The woman was nodding as she got up and rushed out to a nearby restroom. Bob excused himself and went off after her. The technician pressed pause on the movie. Loveless, Charlotte, and the tech sat there uncomfortably. They heard muffled sounds of arguing. Two minutes later, Bob came back into the room.
"Her nose just won't stop bleeding. She's losing a lot of blood. I'm going to take her to the emergency room."
"Jesus! Has anything like this ever happened before?" Loveless asked as he got up.
"Never." Bob seemed weirded out.
"Is there anything we can do?" Charlotte asked with genuine concern.
"No. No. We're gonna have to postpone seeing the rest of the movie."
Shatari came back into the room. She had a white towel to her nose. The towel was a sopping crimson. In her eyes was a look, a look of accusation when she looked at Loveless and Charlotte. She said something in Hindi that no one else in the room understood. The Hindu culture was very old. As old as any. They had a history with magic, the supernatural.
"Don't worry. We can come back. You can look at the movie later." Loveless smiled.
Shatari's eyes flashed. In them was loathing and hatred. The Hindu woman tried to bury these feelings, but she couldn't. While Loveless had missed it, the actress had not. Charlotte saw the emotions. There would be no deal with these distributors. The woman was spooked and her husband was going to do whatever his trophy wife said.
"Her nose just won't stop bleeding. She's losing a lot of blood. I'm going to take her to the emergency room."
"Jesus! Has anything like this ever happened before?" Loveless asked as he got up.
"Never." Bob seemed weirded out.
"Is there anything we can do?" Charlotte asked with genuine concern.
"No. No. We're gonna have to postpone seeing the rest of the movie."
Shatari came back into the room. She had a white towel to her nose. The towel was a sopping crimson. In her eyes was a look, a look of accusation when she looked at Loveless and Charlotte. She said something in Hindi that no one else in the room understood. The Hindu culture was very old. As old as any. They had a history with magic, the supernatural.
"Don't worry. We can come back. You can look at the movie later." Loveless smiled.
Shatari's eyes flashed. In them was loathing and hatred. The Hindu woman tried to bury these feelings, but she couldn't. While Loveless had missed it, the actress had not. Charlotte saw the emotions. There would be no deal with these distributors. The woman was spooked and her husband was going to do whatever his trophy wife said.
Images courtesy of "The Black Album"
The scariest movie you'll never see
Hope you enjoyed the excerpt.
Yours Truly,
Carlton Kenneth Holder
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