Post by Dunwik on Apr 10, 2022 19:49:19 GMT
Anthony "Big Tony" Platt was a large, often smiling, ruddy-faced man in a white suit and massive hat to cover his shining bald head. The owner of numerous art museums and schools and one of the wealthiest men in Dunwik, he was an early and ardent adopter of film - considering it to be a high art form still in its infancy. He sat across from his underling and employee, the more traditionally minded, lean, and gaunt Philip Unger.
"I tell you, this new film fad is a passing fancy and nothing more," Unger said, "I fail to understand why you're going so far as to host annual film award shows. It's all just a silly little trend, every generation has some gadget they obsess over. You're tossing far too much making your filmhouses - it'll never pay off."
Tony lit his cigar and puffed on it, blowing smoke in Unger's face. "I'm telling you, boy, this is the future. One day, they's gonna make film that talks. Not they, we are. Aye, and it'll be so real one day a mick'll walk into the theater and he won't know where the seats end and the movie begins, right. When the first bastard picked up a pencil, it probably didn't look too hot neither, you get me? When the people go to my houses, and buy my food, and look at my paintings on the walls and hear my musicians perform, they pay for it. Soon, they'll be coming in droves to see my movies too - and when they talk, they'll all be talking about my talkies, from ex-Rodina all the way to Caudia. There's no pineapples, Unger, just a mountain of dosh higher than a Lengan citadel."
"We'll see, Tony," Unger said, "we'll see."
"I tell you, this new film fad is a passing fancy and nothing more," Unger said, "I fail to understand why you're going so far as to host annual film award shows. It's all just a silly little trend, every generation has some gadget they obsess over. You're tossing far too much making your filmhouses - it'll never pay off."
Tony lit his cigar and puffed on it, blowing smoke in Unger's face. "I'm telling you, boy, this is the future. One day, they's gonna make film that talks. Not they, we are. Aye, and it'll be so real one day a mick'll walk into the theater and he won't know where the seats end and the movie begins, right. When the first bastard picked up a pencil, it probably didn't look too hot neither, you get me? When the people go to my houses, and buy my food, and look at my paintings on the walls and hear my musicians perform, they pay for it. Soon, they'll be coming in droves to see my movies too - and when they talk, they'll all be talking about my talkies, from ex-Rodina all the way to Caudia. There's no pineapples, Unger, just a mountain of dosh higher than a Lengan citadel."
"We'll see, Tony," Unger said, "we'll see."