The Immortal is really a story that starts from my frustration. All the stories that we’re doing come from my head, and this one is really deeply personal, because it started two years ago when my kids were getting ready for Christmas, and all they could talk about was presents, toys, and Santa and elves.
And I kept trying to come up with some way to work Christ into it. You know, can we stop with the, you know, fat magic fairy that gives you everything you want for Christmas? Let’s actually talk about what it is. Now, I don’t want to be the guy who complains about the giant corporations. I don’t want to be the guy who’s complaining about Santa. I don’t want to be that dad, because I remember growing up Santa was important. That was cool. It’s magic. It’s magic.
Santa is an important part of Christmas, but it’s become nothing more than a racket. If the kids just think that Santa just shows up and just dumps a whole bunch of presents, and you don’t even know why we’re getting gifts anymore, is that the lesson you want to teach your children? Because it’s not mine. And so it bothered me and bothered me all through Thanksgiving and all through Christmas, and I started writing a story called the Immortal.
It’s coming out as a book, not this Christmas but next Christmas, and then it will be a film. The premise behind it was how can I take a guy, Santa, and completely reshape him and make him into something even more magical than what we already think. How can I tell the story of Santa and place him into the actual first Christmas story without damaging the actual Christmas story? I can’t do any damage to that. I can’t have kids go yeah, well, that was Santa that was feeding the sheep. I can’t do that.
So how do I place this figure there so he is forever pointing to that moment? It wasn’t easy, but this story started to download, and I wrote it over the Christmas vacation. And we have been working on it now ever since, and we have come up with something that I think is game changing. Clement Moore was the guy who did ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, and he was the first guy that really changed the look of Santa
And then Coca-Cola did it, changed the look of Santa. And then Montgomery Ward did it with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and then we’ve been off to the races and off to the malls ever since. How can we reshape? My Santa, the Immortal is a very different guy. He starts out right before the birth of Christ, and he is up in the mountains. And he is a warrior. He has lost his wife, and he’s a sad individual. And he’s got a son who loves dearly, and he lives up in the mountains, and he hunts for food.
But what’s interesting about him is he’s also good with his hands, and the way he hunts is completely different. He actually goes up in the mountains, and he makes these giant puppets that he actually gets inside. And he is trying to kill these wild boars by being inside one of these puppets, if you will, of a boar. And he roots around as the boars come in. That way he’s close enough to kill them.
And he takes his son and leaves him in his sledge up on the mountaintop and tells him to be careful. You know, he has taught him to be smart and wise, but as Agios, the main character, comes down, and he is hunting for these wild boar, he hears a scream up by the sledge, and the wolves have come and dragged his boy away. Let me just give you a little bit.
This is from the book:
Agios is now trying to go hunt the wolves because he has seen that his son has been dragged away. “The ridge led downward and beneath a rocky overhang. He spotted two wolves, huge animals, snarling as they fought over something they were devouring. Agios leapt from the sledge before the animals could react, spear in one hand, knife in another. The startled wolves whirled and snarled. Both ran at him like gray ghosts speeding from the gathering gloom.
Agios leaned back on the spear, planting the spear deep inside the lead wolf as it leapt. The blade lodged between the shoulder muscles. The wolf jerked the knife from his hand. In blind fury, Agios grabbed the savage creature, held her muzzle in one hand, lower jaw in the other, and wrenched. Bone and sinew cracked, and the wolf fell…and retrieved the knife as he sank it into the animal’s heart.
He saw the male, mortally wounded, on its belly, making its way towards him. He saw the fallen mate dragging the spear, spilling its own blood. He gave no thanks. Sobbing, cursing himself, he scrambled to the small ripped body beneath the overhang. “Alec,” he moaned, and then he screamed, “My son!” But no living thing could hear. Night enclosed him. The pines creaked in sudden gusts. The mountain storm did not care. Agios screamed again a wordless sound of agony, guilt, and grief. The wind whipped his anguished cry into the darkness.”
That’s how our story begins. That’s Santa? Yes, because what does a man do when he’s in that position where he has no hope, no resurrection, nothing? What does he do? He goes on an amazing journey as a hunter, as a gatherer. He eventually is hired by three wise men because he can negotiate, because nobody is going to rip them off, and he knows how to get the very best gifts. And so he negotiates with gold, frankincense, and myrrh and then has to go protect that gold, frankincense, and myrrh and then through a series of events is left there to protect the Christ child, never interacting, just watching.
He doesn’t know who he is, and he goes darker and darker in his whole life as he watches this boy grow, but he’s always touched by him, but he doesn’t realize it until the Sermon on the Mount. As this now 75-year-old man who has spent 30 years just following this little boy, as he’s listening to the Sermon on the Mount, he finally breaks. He knows who he is, and he falls to his knees, and he says Lord, let me serve him. Let me protect him. Let me point the way towards him until his mission is finished.
He makes a pact. Little does he know in that pact he has now become immortal, because as he watches the crucifixion from afar and cannot get close to it, cannot stop it, he feels he fails again. He runs off before the resurrection. A thousand years pass until he meets another little boy, a little boy that happens to grow up to be what we know as Saint Nicholas.
I’m going to leave it there.
He starts off with some good points. For the first couple paragraphs, he's actually making sense. Theeeen it starts getting a bit, uhhhh, whatever, yadda yadda, sure Glenn Beck. You're losing me here.
But then paragraph seven, sentence two hits, and holy shit, things get AWESOME.
Thank you for that, Lurchi.
"It wasn’t easy, but this story started to download, and I wrote it over the Christmas vacation."
What does this mean? Does he think the ideas in his head are "downloaded" from somewhere? Kolob? Heaven? Reagan's brain in a tank?
Wait, I missed the part of the Nativity where Santa pilots a mech to fight boars.
|infinite zest |
Rare Exports is probably more fun, but admit it. You WILL watch this movie, poeTV.
Yeah that's gotta be tough. Without getting into Madea Saves Christmas Again Pt. II or whatever, it's been a while since the heyday of terrible Christmas movies, which I think reached its highest echelon in the 90s with Santa Clause and Jingle All the Way. Rare Exports is pretty bad but in an awesome way if you're watching it with someone else, preferably not 100% sober.
Unfortunately I just noticed the "15.." :( Besides the new Star Wars announcements I can't think of another movie that had a trailer out over a year in advance.
I really liked Rare Exports. I saw it the same night as a Dutch movie about a killer Santa.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around how you go from the usual Christian persecution, self-important "PUT JESUS BACK IN XMAS" nonsense to something like......this. This.
After that first "Daddy?" I half expected Sweat Loaf.
|Maggot Brain |
Maybe a story about the guy who brought Christianity to Scandinavia (or what ever he did) could be cool but this, Uhg....
How about we make Santa a smack addicted cop who travels back in time to see the birth of Christ. We'll call "The Redeemer" or "The Walker" or something like that.
Turkey? I dunno, sounds kinda Muslim to me.
There can be…only ONE!
|Rodents of Unusual Size |
Was the floating head Jesus? Because WTF floating head.
|Monkey Napoleon |
Anyone else kinda wish he just went 100% and wrote a story about how Santa is actually Jesus, watching and helping children in disguise, waiting for the rapture?
I would have bet you a shot of whatever liquor you like that was exactly what he did had Lurchi not posted the above.
Looks fucking badass.
You know, I'm really starting to believe Beck's claim that he has a brain disease.
No no. He was cured by a neurological chiropractor with a giant gyroscope. And prayer.
Thank you for that timely edit. We wouldn't want to disgrace the honourable and totally real art of chiropractic neurology!
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