As many of you know, I have been held hostage in the deep south for a few weeks now, unable to do much more than eat fried food and watch cable TV, until my long lost love rescued me from my bitter and callus custody.
It was not all dangerous and unhealthy. One day I did go shoe shopping. That said, it was both sad and embarrassing because a person I presumed to be a shoe salesman asked me, in a deeply flawed Mississippi accent something that sounded like “flotsum flinglen clotsu flink?” which I thought must mean “can I help you find some shoes,” but could have indeed meant almost anything. As you can imagine, I left the store, damn near shoeless and wondering what the hell had just happened.
That’s when it hit me, these chains that have bound me to this life of constant fear and entitlement have got be to removed. Which is how I came up with the title for my new movie, Hymie Unchained, a story of a Jew in Mississippi, wandering the hurricane ravaged countryside, looking not so much for a better life, but a decent pair of shoes and a non-fried meal, only to discover an unknowable language and an awful lot of very large people who could care less about one Jews personal journey.
I know a movie about Jews will not find a willing audience with those liberal elitists in Hollywood, but this is a project I feel passionate about, not as passionate as I feel about fried chicken, but still somewhat passionate about none the less. With any luck, Hymie Unchained could be in a downloadable version on your digital movie magic box sometime in the next few weeks, if everything comes together, which they hardly ever do.
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