Based on a False Story

I was just watching a movie. It claimed to be based on a "true story." I acknowledged this declaration, assumed that it lacked real meaning, and changed the channel.

While this may seem cynical, it bears remembering that very rarely do the words "based on a true story" actually carry any weight. Take Remember the Titans for example. Great movie, heartwarming message, truly a masterpiece. Unfortunately it is a masterpiece built upon questionable interpretations and dramatizations of historic events. When I first found this out, my heart was crushed and a little piece of my innocence was destroyed.

As a result, I developed a cynical attitude towards that phrase, "based on a true story." How could I not? After all, adaptations of fiction rarely hold true to their source, so why should adaptations of real events? Disrespectful as it may be, expediency, simplicity, and personal agenda will almost always take precedence over the truth, especially when money is involved.

That is the world in which we live, I suppose. It wasn't always that way; words once had meaning. By no means do I wish to return to the past. But, and here I paraphrase Peter Hitchens, I wish we had chosen a different future.

As I changed the channel, I found myself wanting to produce a movie. It will be a biopic of President Obama's tenure as Commander-In-Chief, and it will be titled "Fistful of Change." It will be directed by Clint Eastwood. The attention to detail will be like unto nothing previously seen in the history of cinema. No expense will be spared. No fact will be unchecked. It will be the most faithful adaptation of anything ever.

And the tagline? The tagline will be "Based on a False Story". It will appear at the end of every trailer in big, bold lettering, narrated by that guy with the charismatic voice who always narrates trailers.

People will question the meaning of those words. I will say nothing, and it will drive them nuts. Steadily, hype will build until the opening day, when the curious masses will flood into theaters across the world and fill the seats with uncertain anticipation.

They will leave the theater unable to speak and will have to process the experience for weeks. President Obama himself will leave the theater in a daze, having watched eight years of his life relayed back to him with more accuracy than his own memories could ever muster, and he will be filled with a sense of wonder and shame.

When people ask, "how did you do it?", I will turn over hours and hours of footage showing the meticulous process that the film crew endured to make sure every detail was correct, that ever blade of grass and lock of hair was in the right place, and that every word was spoken in the exact pitch and tone that it should have been.The critics and public will marvel and say, "There has never before been such a faithful adaptation of real events, and there never will be again."

But one thing will bug them. What does "Based on a False Story" mean? Why that? Is it some sort of damning indictment of the Obama years? Is it a secret code to activate an army of Russian sleeper agents? They will be desperate to know, and they will ask me again, "What does it mean?"

I will say, "Oh that? No reason. Why?"

And they will respond, "Well, that's false advertising, isn't it?", to which I will shrug my shoulders noncommittally and say no more. It will bug them for years and years. I will continue to make biopics over my lifetime, each one more astounding in its attention to detail and factual accuracy, each one emblazoned with the words "Based on a False Story."

 Long after I am dead, when each of my films are recognized as the definitive representations of the events they covered, networks will desperately try to have the words "Based on a False Story" stricken from the title sequence, but it will all be in vain.

They will go to their graves, asking "Why? It didn't reflect the contents of the movie at all. It was perfect, none of it was false! None of it!" And then, like a bolt of lightning out of the blue, the epiphany will strike. The irony will no longer be lost upon them. They will understand that "Based on a False Story" was a meaningless platitude all along, put there for the simple purpose of tormenting them, just as the meaningless tagline "Based on True Story" tormented me.

Perhaps, if only for a moment, they may be bewildered by the lengths to which I went to prove a relatively minor point, but that bewilderment will be replaced by horror. They will understand at last that this was the future they chose for themselves.

So what's the moral of this story? I don't know, but what I do know is that I have said my piece. Stay classy out there, folks.