Frank isn’t a screenwriter anymore than he is a painter or guitar player or sous chef (probably). Frank wants to finish what appears to be, yes, a big pile of misery about a boy named Dusty, his abusive father, and his absent mother. His screenplay, “A Big Pile of Misery” has stalled, several times, it seems, and he needs a new jolt of inspiration that’s where Bonnie and Inspicorp come in. He’s in a bad way from the jump and the gaping head wound is the least of his problems. But when you can quote Lou, you do it, and twice on a Sunday morning.īack to Frank. It’s a cheap trick to let an oft-repeated song lyric from a dead rock icon do the heavy lifting for something even as mundane as a comic book review. This is putting the plunger before the needle.
To borrow generously from a former Long Island local, “Frank is just speeding away / Thought he was Juli Epstein for a day / Then I guess he had to crash / valium would have helped that bash.” Any antidepressant would do for Frank, really, remember when Lou wrote that lyric in ’72, valium was about all that was in a doctor’s bag for what would later be diagnosed as “depression.” Lorazepam would have helped that bash better.įrank has a much bigger monkey on his back, he’s hooked on pure, uncut “inspiration” that comes from a needle housed in a dildo-shaped device supplied by a shady health & beauty company, “Inspicorp,” and administered by a “muse,” Bonnie, who delivers this encouragement directly into Frank’s frontal lobe. Especially for the story’s poor put-upon protagonist, Frank Fisher Jr., who’s bleeding from a weeping crater over his right eye.
Oh, there are drugs and drug-taking, for sure, that is if you consider cigarettes and coffee drugs – you should and they are – but the panoply of pharmacological interventions known to you and me thanks to modern-day psychotherapy are absent. There aren’t enough drugs in the world Eddie Wright and Dave Chisholm carve out in Tyranny of the Muse.
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