Titling something I’ve Always Wanted to Title Something
The Forest of Sadness is one thing but titling
something I’ve Always Wanted to Title Something
I’ve Always Wanted to Title Something
The Forest of Sadness is just too much.
In the film based on the musical titled The Forest
of Sadness which is based on the book I’ve Always Wanted
to Title Something The Forest of Sadness, a group
of sex-crazed teenagers descend upon the forest
to document the existence of Bigfoot for their science
project and hopefully have sex with each other.
The forest is sad because of mosquitoes and because
it’s on fire and bears are frightened and running away
and I do something so ridiculously selfish
to the girl I love that I’m not going to tell you
what it is I do. This is what we talk about
when we talk about an artist who doesn’t always
respect his own medium. I’ve always wanted
to title something I’ve Always Wanted to Title
Something I’ve Always Wanted to Title Something
The Forest of Sadness, but is the forest ever really sad?
Hell yeah it is! Chipmunks and raccoons
die like the rest of us and that makes me sad!
And I think that’s enough to say, yes, a forest
can be sad. In the film based on the musical
titled The Forest of Sadness which is based on the book
I’ve Always Wanted to Title Something The Forest
of Sadness which is titled Hotpants Party
Forest of Spring Break Sadness, the screenwriter took a lot
of liberties with the original because the producer,
Jerry Bruckheimer, thought the original wouldn’t appeal
to a mass audience. Not that I’m saying the forest has to be
sad, or is always sad, not at all.
For instance, trying to portage an aluminum canoe
can lead to some pretty comical dialogue, as can having
a lizard slap you in the face with his tail or a chickling
squirrel throw a bunch of nuts at your head.
I’m just saying I couldn’t care less
about a teenage keg party in the middle of a forest.
I want to see teenagers interact with Bigfoot in ways
I’ve never imagined! We all know having oral sex
on top of the grave of a dead Bigfoot is only going to lead
to problems. And sure enough, Spencer goes missing.
And sure enough, Ben Affleck finds Spencer
impaled atop a fir tree thirty minutes later.
In the original The Forest of Sadness, all these wonderful
things happen to the characters but the audience knows
things the characters don’t, so while you may
hear a loon in the distance, you don’t hear
one teenager breaking another teenager’s heart.
I mean, yeah, he did have a weird thing
about knowing a little too much about Bigfoot to be normal,
but was that a reason to break his heart?
Is there a reason to break someone’s heart?
I remember walking in circles through the forest of sadness
with the girl I love, mostly because the trails
were poorly marked and I stupidly left the map
and mosquito repellant in the car, and yeah, things
got heated because we were lost and my chest
was bleeding which is too complicated to explain why
but my favorite shirt was ruined. If Hotpants Party
Forest of Spring Break Sadness has taught me
anything, it’s to not have oral sex
on the grave of a dead Bigfoot, because a living Bigfoot
will not like that, it’s disrespectful,
and the living Bigfoot will probably impale you on a fir tree,
and Ben Affleck will probably find you and drop
to his knees crying, but if you don’t have sex
on the grave of a dead Bigfoot, the living Bigfoot
will allow you to videotape him for your science project,
which you’ll later use to frame your science teacher
because he thought your Bigfoot stories were childish
and inane. If the forest of sadness has taught me anything,
it’s that the oak of insurrection grows from the acorn
of treachery. I’m kidding, that’s something I saw
in a Viking documentary. If the forest of sadness
has taught me anything, it’s that broken hearts may
be mended, even if you don’t go to the casino afterwards.
An action news team may arrive and a frazzled
teenager may yell something into a crowded auditorium,
but yes, broken hearts may be mended and ruined t-shirts
may be replaced the following week at Sears.
by Jason Bredle
published by poemeleon