By David Poland poland@moviecitynews.com
‘Twas the Night Before The End of The Business
‘Twas the End of The Business
(with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the town
ticket buyers weren’t stirring, from Fockers on down.
The product was hung in the theaters with care,
in hopes that the next surprise cash cow soon would be there.
The execs were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of Scar-Jo freed, giving them head.
And Indie in ‘disarray, and VOD crap,
had just settled their brains praying for new mousetraps.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their beds to see if Cher’s face had shattered.
Away to the window they flew like a Flash,
Their iPads were useless, and where was their stash?
The moon shined so bright, the execs were afraid
their ceo bosses would see the mistakes they had made,
when, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
but a Powerpoint slide show and the eight points they feared.
With a little old driver, such an excellent flack,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Jack.
More rapid than eagles, his rhetoric came,
and Valenti shouted and called them by name:
“Now Windows! Now Sell-Thru!
Now, Front-loaded and Pricing!
On, 9-Figures! On, 3D!
On, Shared Costs and Blitzgreed!
To the top of the mountain!
To the MGM fall!
Now think away! Think away!
You’ve all lost your balls!”
As dry heaves that before wide releases fly,
When contracts call for big P&A, losses mount to the sky
so to a darkened conference room the execs they flew,
with the sleigh full of problems, and Valenti’s ghost too.
And then, in a twinkling, no longer aloof
the prancing and preening of each of these goofs.
As they sat in their seats and each turned around,
Into the room Jack’s Spirit came with a bound.
He was dressed in his suit, perfect from head to foot,
and his rage was apparent with each step he took.
A stack full of memos he had flung on the desk,
and he looked like a cop about to make an arrest.
“Windows – dumping one for another! You’re throwing out money!
Spent DVD sell-thru cash, every dime like some dummies!
Theatrical dollars drawn too tight like a bow,
And price points keep dropping, and down they will go.
Nine figures each film is insane behavior,
And you’re smoking the crack if you think 3D’s your savior.
You sell off your risk… profits too, what a trick!
And Wall Street laughs at your stocks, while buying Netflix.
He was tiny but mighty, the angriest elf,
and some laughed when they saw him, they were fooling themselves.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon let them all know he still knew more than them.
They spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and checked out their spread sheets, and felt like some jerks.
The blueprint they’d built with its day-n-date flows,
Would turn movies to TV, once differentiation goes.
Jack sprang to his car, to his team gave a whistle,
And for a moment they thought that they’d avoided a missle.
But He heard them exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“But folks want it now. If they want it, it’s right!”
