Ahhh, the life of Harry Knowles... the luckiest son of a beeeetch this side of... Well... Moriarty. The following is one of the adventures I've had... in fact, it all began Monday night after the GOAT ON FIRE & SMILING FISH screening. Let me paint the scene for ya.
The ancient one and I had just come out of the Century Theater at the Orleans Casino. The Penguins Caffeinated Peppermints had me vibratingly awake, when suddenly... from out of nowhere came Dusty Bottoms, Lucky Day and Ned Nederlander. Dressed in very strange mariachi wares, they did this strange line dance and said to us that we were to go with them to the O.G.
Moriarty and I, being the good God-fearing children and geeks that we were, naturally assumed that O.G. was the codename for a secret George Burns unreleased OH GOD movie that was probably going to be banned in Idaho and Utah. Being the advocates that we were... and feeling that this would be good material to discuss with Jack Valenti in the morning, we set forth in the motorized carriage bound for the O.G.
The carriage attendent began talking about Johnny Russo killing a man in Vegas for some sort of perceived ill-will given to a stripper with a pair of tits that this town was founded around. (This is when Moriarty and I began looking at each other wondering why there was 'stripper talk' in the carriage) He went on telling us about the days when Telly Sevalas used to hop in this steel horse driven machine and roam the strip looking for lollypops. We had entered the right carriage.
Suddenly we were at a place called Olympic Gardens, and Moriarty and I began to suspect that this was no mere George Burns film, but we were absolutely adamant about pursuing any perceived level of censorship to it's full conclusion.
Upon entering this place, suddenly from my fat full lips, and the cracked aged lips of the dear professor escaped the words, "Oh Gee!"
We were looking at the retirement home for Steve Buscemi's ROCKHOUND from ARMAGEDDON. A haven for strippers from around the world. Greece, Zimbabwe, Russia, Czech (spelling impaired), Korea, Japan and just about every country on this fair globe of ours.
There were nearly flat titties, fake silicone mountain titties, medium champagne glasses topped with ripe cherries titties and then swinging titties. Having just read the OCEAN'S ELEVEN script, and seeing a sensitive man movie like GOAT ON FIRE AND SMILING FISH we thought this to be the perfect locale to discuss the wide varied world of cinema.
For the next four hours Ned, Dusty, Lucky, James G and me sat in our corner booth surrounded by 80 plus nude women humping men, women, tables and chairs while we discussed F.W. Murnau and the release schedule of SHADOW OF THE VAMPIRE, The Birth of Edison Cinema, Automan, Tron, the fine art of fighting with fake lightsabers and of course.... SPIDER-MAN, LORD OF THE RINGS, EPISODE II and III, X-MEN and so on. At one point this entertainer with GIGANTIC FLESHY BREASTS came up and asked these five men (including me) why we were all leaning on a table discussing something and paying no mind to the wild world of God's Creations.
The old man began giggling while I said... "Admittedly our values are shot, but we are discussing the world of film and it's ancilary products," then I blinked twice in innocent doe fashion. Her response was to unsheath her tits, place her leg against the unused flacid noodle of Moriarty and humped twice, "Wouldn't you rather get your hands on these?" Again with the evil giggles as the half blind evil genius grinned his missing tooth filled mouth and coughed up half a lung.
It was as if an angel had come down from up on high and said... "Gentlemen, movies are crap, Pussy rules!" This instantly sent Ned to the cabs out front riddled with guilt, while Dusty Bottoms headed to the tables for a facial massage alongside the professor, while Lucky and I began discussing Genome Technologies and the developing genetic engineering to extend life.
About an hour further drifted by, till Lucky Day was suddenly cornered by a loving progeny of SuperFly from across 110th street. Understandably, Lucky Day began to drift from the conversation. Suddenly, Dusty and Moriarty returned with the goofiest smiles you ever did see on a 200 year old evil genius and an inept gringo mariachi player. As they sat down, this couple that had been having many many lapdances, leans over and says,
"ARE YOU HARRY KNOWLES?"
Suddenly I realized that 1)I have some very liberal readers that enjoy a very interesting alternative lifestyle, 2)I need to lose 200 lbs and cut my hair and bleach it blonde and 3)I was forced to now come forward and fully discuss this with all of you... lest it be turned into some strange sexcapade involving a 200 year old fugitive, 2 mariachi players, Superflyette and 80 nude writhing women. Although the relative damage from this seemingly hallucinatory rambling would hardly be taken as seriously as such adventures as working a Burger King to infiltrate CHICKEN RUN and the various Time Machine jaunts.
Having downed approximately 7 Shirley (ahem) Temples with a Charlie Horse chaser, my bladder needed emptying, so I told the crew I was headed to the bathroom.
The next thing I knew I was in my hotel typing my review of GOAT ON FIRE AND SMILING FISH, while Moriarty was screaming about blue balls and the inexcusable breach of cock teasing involved with a lady named Viagra that fondled his unworking block and tackle to move the flesh that never moves.
Upon finishing my column I fell asleep to have visions of a blank period of my life that seemed to involve a 32 year old Catholic School girl with the cutest pair of glasses I ever did see and a weird (was it Catholic) ritual involving all sorts of sordid animalistic rites that (in my dream mind you) I enjoyed thoroughly.
After three hours of sleep I awoke with the sudden realization that I needed to shower and get ready to see... LORD OF THE RINGS footage! Moriarty, covered in lipstick and sounding like some sort of dying beaver, slept like most 200 year old evil geniuses covered in lipstick. Upon entering the bathroom... I noticed lipstick all over me. What had Moriarty done?
Grabbing toilet paper and making like Baby Jane, I started rubbing upon my jowls. Leaving the restroom I looked at Moriarty. That lipstick was a different shade. What was this? I searched his bags. No lipstick. I searched my bags. No lipstick. This is still a mystery that I am deadly serious to getting in the bottom of.
Showered, dressed and still just a hint of Jasmine upon... every inch of me, (strange... this isn't the scent of Moriarty? Where did this come from?) Ahhh... more important things to put our minds to... Showest needed our attention. Only the powerful superminds of two well serviced geniuses... one a force for good the other of evil... must be put into the system to reveal to all the future of NEW LINE...
Folks, Moriarty is going to take over now... As we are each taking turns with the computer and various work. Photography engineering, scribing, time management details, etc. One last thing till I turn it over... The scheme for the photography that I took for the various Showesteers is to take the pictures that the 'typical' photojournalist does not take. Close-ups and character shots. That chandelier above... the press corp line and photo corp lines. This is to document what this circus is like. Since Moriarty has the tape recorder and I the camera... our tag team duties were clearly labelled. I only got to talk to one star... Jon Favreau, who came up to thank me for the review of LOVE & SEX that an AICNer wrote at Sundance this year and claimed that it was responsible for the film getting distribution. Disclaimer... it is my belief that making a film that earns the sort of review that LOVE & SEX obtained from an AICNer is why the film got distribution. But enough from me... onto Moriarty...
9:30. I never realized exactly how early that hour could seem until Tuesday morning rolled around. The alarm clock kicked in with that annoying bzzzzt only a few inches from my ear. I slapped the snooze button, determined to sneak in at least ten more minutes. "Hey, fucker, it's 9:30." Oh, god. Knowles sounded awake, even chipper. I opened one eye to halfmast and peered over at him sitting on the edge of his bed. Yep. Big smile on his face, all showered and dressed in a Technicolor Hawaiian shirt and those epilepsy-inducing neon lime green shoes of his. "LORD OF THE RINGS footage, old man. Get your ass up."
Admittedly, the threat of seeing actual moving images from Peter Jackson's bet-it's-gonna-be-a masterpiece would normally be enough to make me jump out of bed and sprint to the shower. However, I could still smell dancer all over me, and Knowles and his infernal giggling suggested that there was lipstick all over my ears and neck. I tried to shake off all thoughts of the hyper-talented Viagra and her Two Towers. Wake up. Wake up! Four hours and change just didn't feel like enough sleep. I'm not the spring chicken I was at, say, 90 years old. Still, I have my priorities straight, and I knew there would be worthwhile coolness to impart. I dragged myself into the bathroom, shutting the door on Harry's cruel, taunting laughter as I tried to pull myself together for the day ahead.
A half hour and one miraculous recovery later, we were walking into the press room at the Paris. We were early, something you faithful readers know I have little experience with, so I basically raided their Arrowhead cooler, trying to replace the precious fluids I had been robbed of the previous night. Finally, one of the many elfin ShoWest press staff (you should see their amazing green sweaters) led Harry and I to the area where the New Line press area would be. We were split up, Harry being taken to the photographers line, me being left standing on an AICN sign with the other people authorized to ask questions.
I'll give New Line this: they sure know how to build the suspense. The 11:00 start time for the event came, then went. Still nobody to photograph or question. 11:15. 11:20. All there was around me were reporters, all trading gossip or taking about what junkets are the best free rides. You guys may complain that we've sold out by taking press badges to this show, but we're here on our own dime. We came because we had to.
Finally, at about 11:40, the first celeb was escorted in, but I almost missed him at first. We all did, actually. It was Verne Troyer, the one and only Mini-Me, dressed in a sharp Armani outfit. Now, let me try to explain the whole procedure. Harry was roped off in the photographer's pen, the first thing the celebs saw as they entered. New Line didn't want anyone from that section asking any questions... a traffic concern, I'm guessing.
Instead, the rest of us were each assigned a space to stand and ask questions as each person made their way down the line. Nice, neat, and orderly, right? Guess again. I was wedged in between USA TODAY's Andy Seiler and the lovely Hollywood.com nymphet and her crew, both of whom were far more aggressive about asking Verne Troyer various SHASTA MCNASTY related questions than I was. Since I don't have some editor to whom I have to justify this whole trip, I was free to cover only what I really wanted to cover. Instead of frantically waving to Verne and his dwarf manager and shouting his name over and over, I stood back to watch everyone else. The typical exchange went something like this:
"Hey, Verne! How are you?!"
"Good. ShoWest is crazy."
"Great! How's ShoWest so far?!"
"Great! Do you like ShoWest?!"
"Yep. It's crazy."
"Great! What are you working on?!"
"I'm doing TV shows and movies and personal appearances, like the one at ShoWest. Have I mentioned that it's crazy?"
As the heated exchange of ideas continued, one thing became clear. Verne Troyer has (no pun intended) a short temper when it comes to stupidity. After mentioning how miserable the four-hour makeup process was for THE GRINCH and dropping vague threats about another sitcom with Jake Busey, Verne walked away. By that time, Devon Sawa and Ali Larter had already been ushered in and were starting to walk the line. I noticed that every one of the various celebs had publicists with them, monitoring each conversation and pimping their stars to each successive reporter. I've been around for a long time, and if there's one thing I have no patience for, it's being handled by publicists. I avoided the reptilian gaze of each one as they oozed past.
To be perfectly honest, I didn't have anything to ask the people they were bringing out. "Devon, does FINAL DESTINATION suck as much as IDLE HANDS?" "Ali, did you mean for your sweater to keep accidentally flashing me?" It's not like I could have gotten any sort of real answer out of either one of them anyway. They were obviously pre-programmed backstage with a stock set of things they could say. Devon kept insisting that he's a real actor who would never lower himself to do crap like AMERICAN PIE, while Ali kept insisting with maximum perk that FINAL DESTINATION features the coolest death scenes ever in the history of cinema bar none no really!
Other celebs were being ushered in now, and the feeding frenzy was seriously ramping up. Jon Seda shadowboxed for anyone who even glanced at him. Omar Epps hung back, sullen and bored. Melina Kanakaredes, pregnant and pretty, worked the line like an old pro, outclassed only by Jimmy Smits. Sanaa Lathan, Epps' stunning co-star in the upcoming LOVE AND BASKETBALL, was here and gone before I got more than a glimpse. Jon Favreau, who wasn't promoting anything at all, stayed close to his friend Vince Vaughn, who looked like I felt.
Actually, the best exchange of the day was between Vaughn and a reporter near me. As Vaughn walked up, the reporter pointed at him and Favreau. "Hey, it's the SWINGERS guys! And we're in Vegas! Hey! That's money, baby!"
Vince flashed the most insincere smile I've ever seen on a person and said, "Yeah, that's great. I think I'll kill the next person who says that to me." The mere hint of discontent in his voice brought his unreasonably hot publicist into closer orbit.
The oblivious journo gave a wicked donkey laugh and continued, "So, how does it feel to be in Vegas together again?"
Without even blinking, Vince shot back, "It feels like we've become everything we used to hate."
Just like that, the publicist went into panic mode, repeating the emphatic mantra, "Vince didn't say that! Vince didn't say that!" Within seconds, he'd been hustled away while the damage control unit kicked in.
By this point, the actual New Line luncheon was beginning. We could hear it through the doors of the Grand Paris Ballroom. Realizing that we could (A)stay in the press line to see what Tommy Davidson had to say, or (B) get our asses into the room where the LORD OF THE RINGS footage was going to be shown, we opted for (B) after a surprisingly close vote. Harry and I sprinted for the Grand Ballroom entrance, leaping over various NATO delegates and trampling anyone in our way. We made it inside just as the intro to the product reel was ending.
According to Thomas Schuetze, a German journo I met last year who ended up seated next to us today, the intro was set at the ShoWest of Tomorrow on a floating space station retirement home for all the beloved New Line characters. Rollergirl with a walker, Freddy and Jason with grey hair, a decrepit Austin Powers, and The Mask with a cancer kazoo were just a few of the characters shown before a 60 year old Ice Cube came on to reminisce about the good ol' days in the year 2000. He waxed rhapsodic about the success of NEXT FRIDAY, then mentioned that a few other good films came out as well. That led into the spring trailer ring. Let me give you my quick impressions of what we saw:
FINAL DESTINATION. You've all seen this trailer by now. I personally think it's ridiculous, but it seems to have rubbed some people the right way. I know the lovely Marla Singer in LA refuses to believe all the negative test screening reports we've gotten in, convinced this is going to be a wild thrill ride. I'm not convinced myself, but there's just a couple of week 'till we get a chance to find out for ourselves.
Harry's take: Trailer is one of those.... Ew... Teenagers die things. Nothing particularly special. This trailer has been everywhere. Ho hum.
THE CUP. What a strange little trailer. Tibetan monks and soccer games, satellite dishes in ancient monastaries. It looks like the kind of film that Miramax used to know how to turn into a hit. We'll see what Fine Line can do with it.
Harry's Take: Hey folks, it's a soccer playing monk flick. So ya got red robed Curlys shuffling about minus the "heh Moes" and "nyuck nyuck nyucks". About as weird as they come.
PRICE OF GLORY. Boxing. Jimmy Smits. Jon Seda. It went in one ear and out the other, sorry to say. Could be brilliant, but it left no impression on me.
Harry's Take: It's L.A. LAW but with a lot more physical contact and sweating. Actually... this looks interesting. Jon Seda looks like someone that's been punched alot. And Smits is just always someone cool to watch. I like boxing movies, and from that side of things it looks a degree or two more interesting than ROCKY V from the trailer.
LOVE & BASKETBALL. The early word on this film is very good, and I liked the trailer a lot. It looks like a real glimpse inside the world of sacrifice that professional athletes face, particularly women. The last exchange of the trailer ("One game, one-on-one." "For what?" "Your heart.") really flies with these two charismatic young actors. I'm interested.
Harry's Take: Like the old man says, very strong word of mouth... and I'll add that I really like the trailer for the film... but this was the same trailer that all these theater owners already have in their theaters. Which, again, made me go... Oh yeah... that trailer. Omar Epps looks cool in this film. By International Law it has to be waaaaay better than MOD SQUAD.
TOWN & COUNTRY. Hey, didn't we see this one last year? Oh, yeah... this is that $75 million light romp with Warren Beatty, Garry Shandling, Goldie Hawn, Diane Keaton, Buck Henry, Natassia Kinski, and more that has been stuck in reshoot hell for a while now. Michael Fleming had a nice bit about the film and its cast in his DISH column on Tuesday. All I know is, the trailer made me laugh last year, and it still does. Peter Chesolm has made two really great little underrated films in a row (FUNNY BONES and THE MIGHTY), so I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt here. Still, he wouldn't be the first guy to get Beatty'd to death. It's a shame if he did. A SHAMPOO for the new decade would be lovely.
Harry's Take: I refuse to believe that a movie that seems to be about every woman on the planet seemingly wanting to have spontaneous sex with Warren Beatty... whether he be Grandpa age or wearing a Polar Bear suit on a wet golf course... could possibly cost as much as Moriarty professes. That being said, Peter Chesolm is a God, and nothing in the trailer makes it look like it won't be a bit funny. My god, look at what Chesolm has accomplished in the past with... OLIVER PLATT and a Culkin kid. It's gotta be good... right?
FREQUENCY. You've seen this one, too, I'll bet. It's been playing for a while, and I still don't know what I think. It's a bizarre premise: a guy gets to talk to his long-dead father on a ham radio because of sunspots that cause some time loop, only to have to prevent the murder of his own mother using the strange time stutter. Dennis Quaid and Jim Caviezial are both talented guys, and Gregory Holbit made the efficient, entertaining PRIMAL FEAR a few years back. But still... Renny Harlin and Sylvester Stallone dropped out of the film. If even they don't like a script, what does that say?
Harry's Take: Dammit.. I really wish New Line had brought this movie with them. I've got one of those feelings about the film. I like the trailer... though wish they had shown us something we don't all have on the computers. At this stage, other than TOWN & COUNTRY I was like... What the? This is like E!'s trailer park. I believe FREQUENCY is going to be a very good movie. Of course I also thought that about END OF DAYS and you people keep telling me I was wrong about that. See... I'm always right.
The 60 year old Ice Cube came back at that point to tell us there would be a break for lunch since he had to "take a wicked piss." New Line then proceeded to serve us something that loosely resembled a hamburger, only inedible. It didn't matter, though. We knew what was after lunch. All the stars from the press line (as well as Adam Sandler, Patricia Arquette, Harvey Keitel, and Quaid and Caviezial) were ushered into the center of the room so they could eat lunch while a wall of bodyguards glowered out at the rest of us. Again, it didn't matter. We knew what was coming. By the time they cleared our plates and the lights went down again, I could barely stay in my seat. Ice Cube came back on and the next batch of trailers began:
THE CELL. This is the film that Mike De Luca keeps calling "New Line's MATRIX." Personally, I don't see it. It's got a distinct look, courtesy of Tarsem, the video director behind REM's "Losing My Religion" and other clips, but I've read the Protosevich script, and it's a mess. Think VIRTUOSITY mixed with NBC's short-lived SLEEPWALKERS TV series. A serial killer (Vincent D'Onofrio) is killing women by using this bizarre torture chamber that fills with water and drowns them while he watches. Jennifer Lopez and Vince Vaughn use high-tech toys to go into D'Onofrio's dreams and chase him around. Really. There's some striking individual images here, but if this thing works, I will be stunned. I think it's going to be too deeply nasty for most viewers, offensive to most women, and I think that it will ultimately collapse under the weight of its own pretension.
The trailer strikes me as a cross between Barker's cenobytes with the photographic style of IN DREAMS mixed with the extravagant costume designings of Bram Stoker's DRACULA and after the trailer I can say it's a bit like waking up after a 4 day ether binge. A bit disorientating. Interesting... No judgements. Haven't been given enough info. Intriguing looking.
LOST SOULS. Hey, didn't we see this one last year? This still looks like a good creepy little exorcism thriller with Winona Ryder and Ben Chaplin starring. I liked the script when I reviewed it during my Supernatural Week script round-up the week before ShoWest last year, and I hope that they really do finally release it this fall. It's about time.
Harry Note: I was ready to see this movie last September. Let's get it out sooner rather than later.
13 DAYS. Kick ass. This is how you cut a trailer. This is the story of the Cuban Missile Crisis as told from inside the White House. Kevin Costner plays Kenny O'Donnell, our eyes and ears in the crisis, and the trailer unfolds with a series of intense confrontations as things heat up. Bruce Greenwood's truly spooky JFK performance is front and center here, and just when you're sure you've seen the whole movie, with cross-cutting aerial action and generals plotting and Kennedys conferring, a single title comes up -- "That's just the first day." Looks like they nailed the tone of the script, and they sure know how to sell it. Best of luck, boys.
Harry Note: Great fucking trailer, for a screenplay that if shot as David Self brilliantly wrote it... It alongside William Broyles' Robert Zemeckis directed CASTAWAY will be in the final 5 for the OSCARS this time next year when we're all saying... 9 months to LORD OF THE RINGS! Everything about the trailer works wonderfully. Spy Planes, political trauma, notable americana and no Oliver Stone brick impressions on my temple. This movie could rock so hard you're left saying... THAT'S FILMMAKING! Please dear God, make Roger Donaldson make his perfect film!
BONES. I have no idea what this is. There was no footage, just a title and some mumbling about "the new face of horror" and "the dawning of a new franchise." Harry swears he heard Snoop Dogg's name in the trailer. I don't know what the hell he's talking about.
Harry Note: Scary eyeball man and trailer voice. me no know what think about scary people trauma. Be afraid...
SAVING GRACE. This film played at Sundance, and it appears to be a sweet little comedy about a woman played by Brenda (SECRETS & LIES) Blethyn who has to save her farm by growing marijuana. It's a pretty funny little trailer, mild mannered and unoffensive.
Harry Note: Looks good, though TWO FAMILY HOUSE won this year's Audience Award at Sundance... not this
BAMBOOZLED! Spike Lee's name in on this thing, and that's the only reason people didn't recoil in shock as some truly startling imagery raced by. This seems to be about a TV show that trades in black stereotypes, set in a world in which all those stereotypes are true. Strange, high-concept, and sure to be controversial.
Harry Note: Excellent teaser. Dying to see.
15 MINUTES. This looks pretty damn good, I must say, even if I do resent Ed Burns for all the times he's put his hands on my future wife. The trailer sells it as a tense, thrilling commentary on the lengths people will go to in an effort to be famous. Positioned as a dark action piece like SE7EN, this could work if everyone in it is at the top of their game, and Burns and De Niro both appear to be. The film's got a great one-sheet, a gun that's colored like an American flag, with the tagline, "Some people will kill to get their 15 MINUTES." I know they've sold me.
Harry Note: Kickass trailer.
LITTLE NICKY. The beginning of this one is cut like it's a horror film, and it just might be. Adam Sandler looks bizarre in the trailer, and his Little Nicky voice is basically just another riff on Canteen Boy's retarded voice. There's not really any laughs in the trailer, but it's just a teaser, so maybe they're holding back the good stuff. Please, New Line... tell me you're just holding back the good stuff. I noticed there wasn't even a glimpse of Tarantino or Keitel or... well, or anyone, for that matter. It's just Sandler in a weird coat, with weird hair, as he gets hit by a bus.
Harry note: Me no like Adam Sandler. I'm tone death to his comedy. Bring me ME MYSELF AND IRENE.
LORD OF THE RINGS. All sins are forgiven. I loved the hamburger. I thought the press line was lovely. Whatever New Line wants, New Line gets. All they have to do is give me another injection of this pure movie-geek heroin, this beautiful, magnificent, damn-fool experiment of theirs. I've looked into the CGI eyes of Gollum, and I've found a soul. I've seen the Ringwraiths as they thunder through the woods. I've seen the silhouettes of our beloved Fellowship as they cut across the horizon. I literally started shaking as they showed quick glimpses of Orcs and goblins in full makeup. Was that Gandalf? Oh, shit, look, it's Samwise! Wow, Frodo looks cool, and Sting seems a mighty blade. Through the entire two minutes, Peter Jackson kept appearing, radiating that quiet confidence of his. I love this guy and his movies, and the faith this footage instills in me is unshakable. Bring it on. Let me see more. Let me get a better look at Aragorn. Please, please, please, take me back to Helm's Deep. It's really bizarre when they're talking about the influence of the books and we see STAR WARS posters and Frank Frazetta art and a Led Zeppelin album cover all go by, but it's also entirely true. We're finally getting a film version of one of the most influential pieces of literature in history. We're finally going to Middle Earth. 2001, 2002, and 2003, eh? Fine. I'm up for it. I can wait. Any time Peter Jackson and his crew of magicians needs, they should take. It will be worth it.
Harry Note: Rocked so hard it neutered the front half of the audience while leaving Moriarty sounding like a shrill little girl.
And then, just like that, it was over. The lights came on, some shit in the rafters exploded unceremoniously, and we were herded out the door to collect our LITTLE NICKY sweatshirts while AC/DC's "Highway To Hell" played very, very loudly.
So how did you spend your morning?
I've got to get some sleep now so we can repeat the whole process at the Sony event tomorrow. Looks like they're bringing some monster stars like Arnold and Mel and Bill Murray, who is apparently doing CHARLIE'S ANGELS after all. We should be seeing stuff from THE PATRIOT, THE HOLLOW MAN, and FINAL FANTASY. Expect reports on all that, along with the Miramax evening and Fox's screening of WHERE THE HEART IS. Until then...