I'm probably way too pumped to learn that Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick are crafting a Zombieland pilot for Amazon, which is scheduled to "air" in mid-April and could then go to series. Not that I feel guilty about liking the 2009 film version of Zombieland (likewise written by Reese and Wernick) - who doesn't? - yet I can't help wondering if it is truly deserving of all the adulation with which I regard it. No matter how many times I've seen Zombieland, I'm always up for another viewing.
This latest Zombieland news got me thinking (never a pleasant thing): What other semi-guilty pleasures would I like to see adapted into television or Internet-based series?
Hence, this list (which also includes projected scenarios):
1) Pitch Black (2000): Stardom is a double-edged sword, as we know from watching Vin Diesel transmogrify into one (a star, that is). Before The Pacifier (2005) there was Pitch Black (2000), a neat little deep-space thriller in which Diesel portrays Richard D. Riddick, a big, bad wolf en route to the hoosegow when his transport ship crash-lands on a desert planet inhabited by predatory aliens. This film has already spawned one sequel - The Chronicles of Riddick, released in 2004 - with another in the works. But it's time to abandon these pointless little theatrical endeavors and convert Pitch Black into what was really the obvious choice from the get-go: a television series. Since Diesel is way busy these days (think of all those Fast and the Furious sequels still crying to be made), the role of Riddick is offered first to Telly Savalas, who is resurrected through the magic of computer graphics, but holds out (virtually) for an ungodly sum, and the job goes instead to Terry O'Quinn, who is pretty good at this stranded stuff anyway.
2) The Usual Suspects (1995): SPOILER ALERT!!! Boogeyman Keyser Söze, an established master of disguise, was last seen riding into the sunset with good buddy Kobayashi; here he resurfaces in Washington, D.C., as a devious Southern congressman who not only strangles a dying dog with his bare hands, but also hatches an elaborate plan of revenge after being skipped over for secretary of state, managing to outsmart the president of the United States and every other political shark in the nation's capital with a series of mindbogglingly transparent schemes, in the process forgetting to employ his Southern accent about fifty percent of the time. Devil's greatest trick indeed.
3) Manhattan Murder Mystery (1993): I love most Woody Allen films (and not just the early, funny ones), though I do admit to experiencing suicidal impulses sitting through September. Not many of Woody's admirers would join me in identifying this riotous little film as among their favorites. MMM, immediately succeeding Husbands and Wives and all of its attendant unpleasantness, paired Allen with onetime flame Diane Keaton and co-scripter Marshall Brickman for the first time in fourteen years (not including Keaton's brief appearance in Radio Days), and certainly evokes Allen's earlier, less complicated work. The premise - Keaton and Allen as amateur middle-aged sleuths investigating the mysterious death of an elderly neighbor (he very reluctantly) - is a perfect setup for a CBS crime series, no? Keaton reprises her role; Allen exec produces, returning to weekly television for the first time in six decades, but declines to co-star, so the part goes instead to Alan Alda, who appears in the film as well, though in a different role. Alternately we see a CW reimagining, starring Blake Lively and Chace Crawford, who are bound to show up in a Woody Allen film one of these days anyway.
4) End of Days (1999): This one I'll admit is purely guilty pleasure, but it's beyond me how anyone can resist Arnold Schwarzenegger as Christ figure/former cop Jericho Cane (JC, get it?), who - God help us - is our last line of defense against Lucifer himself, in the embodiment of a Wall Street banker portrayed by Gabriel Byrne. Satanists abound! (Would be interesting to stage a contest between the devil in this film and Joe Carroll in The Following, to see who boasts more apostles.) The ending - SPOILER ALERT!!! - in which Cane fends off Satan by impaling himself on a sword protruding from the statue of an archangel - would have to be tossed, but so what? It's not like it made any sense anyway. Assuming that Schwarzennger is unavailable - and given The Last Stand I'm not sure he will be - I'm recommending Josh Holloway, formerly Lost's Sawyer, for the role.
5) Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992): This almost universally panned David Lynch film - its entire universe of supporters meets every Wednesday night for pickup basketball, and the best we can do is three-on-three - ends with the corpse of comely high school coed Laura Palmer washing ashore in the fictitious Pacific Northwest mill town after which the film is named - a blatantly obvious launching point for a television series. We envision a mild-mannered man named, say, Pete Martell, happening upon the body while out on a morning fishing trip, and summoning investigators to the scene. Kyle MacLachlan returns in the role of FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, who sets out to unmask Laura's killer with the help of a local sheriff named after a U.S. president (TBD). If, like us, you are reminded here of the Woody Allen joke in which Gertrude Stein counsels Ernest Hemingway against writing Great Expectations because Charles Dickens already wrote it, all we can say is: "Bring Back Twin Peaks!"