I
took Spanish for my foreign language requirement in high school.
Students could take four years of the foreign language of their
choosing, but we were only required to take three years and pass the
state exam to fulfill the requirement. Naturally, once I'd aced the
state Spanish exam after my third year, I celebrated my new-found
fluency in a second language by never speaking it again and taking
some photography course the following year instead. I had brief
aspirations to pursue a career in photography, but that was a passing
ambition at best. Looking back, I can't help but think at least part
of my plan had been to become a licensed photographer as an excuse to
stare at swimsuit models all day. If I'm completely honest, that
still sounds like a great fallback plan now.
Although
I do wish I had retained more than a little Spanish, I stand by the
decision to take the photography course. It was fun and interesting,
and it gave me the opportunity to work with Mike again. He and I had
been in Spanish together our third year, along with Matt whom I'd
been friends and classmates with for years. Matt and I worked
together as fake 1930s radio hosts for a history class project in
middle school. His jovial personality and larger-than-life radio
voice were quite a complement to my meek and reserved self. He was
believable as a radio persona. I probably would have fit better as
the technician.
I
didn't know Mike prior to that Spanish class, but Matt did, so the
three of us teamed up for a group project for that class. It was a
video project. The assignment was to demonstrate our mastery of the
Spanish language by creating a commercial advertising a fictional
project spoken entirely in Spanish.
I'm
not sure how common video projects are in most schools, but I can
think of at least one other I had done before. It was in middle
school, and I was supposed to make a video for health class that
would be a sort of PSA about the dangers of smoking. What I actually
made was a poorly-edited hackjob in which I and my best friend at the
time Dave improvised sketches parodying Superman and Star Wars with a
few smoking statistics peppered in. The guidelines for the assignment
were technically met, but I doubt anyone picked up any useful
information amid my terrible acting and stumbling over my words,
shots of my sister and cousin staring blankly into the distance
because somebody forgot to call “Action”, everyone's ridiculous
costumes, and me accidentally whacking Dave in the nose with a
plastic light saber.
Spanish
class, however, was much different. Four or five years of life
experience had granted me enough common sense to actually write a
complete script before we began shooting. Add to this Matt's natural
on-screen charisma, and Mike's experience editing video, and we had a
formula for success from the get-go. All we needed was a great
product to advertise.
We
only kicked around ideas for a few minutes before someone made the
most obvious suggestion for a product that would warrant an
infomercial: a robotic housekeeper. So cliche, I know, but once it
had been brought up, we were too keen on the idea to settle for
anything else. Besides, Mike already had a robot costume made of
cardboard boxes, so clearly this had to happen.
The
script was basically just a parody of every silly infomercial ever
made at first, but as we started shooting, it quickly took on a life
of its own. We were constantly adding little ideas along the whole
way, so few of which made any sense whatsoever. It's difficult to
encapsulate just what a tremendously exquisite thing we had given
birth to, but I'll do my best to paint the picture for you.
The
infomercial was set to open with Matt doing the usual infomercial
voice-over routine, saying things in Spanish like “Aren't you tired
of cooking and cleaning? It can be such a hassle!” As he spoke, I
would play the stereotypical hapless maroon who couldn't handle the
simplest of household tasks. However, when we recorded the
voice-over, Matt decided to do his lines in a comically deep, ominous
voice, as if he were doing voice-over for the trailer to a summer
blockbuster action movie. It was utterly out of place and had no
reason being in the commercial, and I loved him for it.
Other
than that, my opening scenes went more or less as planned. We opened
on a black-and-white shot of something on the stove burning while I
ran up to it shouting “Ai-ai-ai!” That was my first line in the
video: “Ai-ai-ai!” You know, like a horrible Mexican stereotype,
or the robot from Power Rangers. I remind you, this was done for a
grade, in Spanish class.
After
my additional displays of inadequacy, I sat at the kitchen table, and
the following exchange took place (translated from Spanish):
Me:
“I sure wish somebody could do my chores for me.”
Matt,
leaping into the frame in an exaggerated superhero pose: “Well,
wish no more!”
Me:
“Who are you?”
Matt:
“Allow me to present-”
Me:
“Who are you?! Get out of my house!”
Matt,
placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder: “Please, don't
interrupt.”
At
this point, Matt would introduce the robot housekeeper, El Criado
Bionico Dos Mil (The Bionic Servant 2000). As simple as that sounds,
we had to do at least five takes of him saying that one line. The
reason for this is that, being brilliant as he is, Matt decided to
deliver the line as if he were a ring announcer introducing the
heavyweight champion of the world to a capacity crowd at a
pay-per-view event, chest puffed out, arm sweeping widely toward the
doorway, shouting boldly.
“Te
presenta... al... Criado... Bionico... Dos Mil!”
We
had to keep re-shooting the scene because every time he started doing
that line, I would die laughing. Each time I promised to get it
together, and each time I failed. On our final take, as he starts
delivering his big line, if you look closely at the video, you can
see me biting my lip, turning my head slowly away from the camera and
inching out of frame. I could not keep a straight face no matter how
hard I tried. It was too glorious.
From
there, Mike was introduced wearing the silver-painted cardboard robot
costume. He proceeded to pantomime cooking and sweeping up, and Matt
demonstrated how to make the robot wash my clothes by feeding him a
dirty shirt, at which point he'd shake around making washing machine
noises and drop a clean shirt out on the floor. Very efficient.
Then,
of course, Matt declares, “He's even a surgeon!” Mike the robot
then holds up a knife menacingly and I scream bloody murder. It was a
flimsy excuse to reference the famous scene from Psycho, complete
with the dramatic music sting and jerky black-and-white camera shots.
The knife never touched my flesh of course, because I immediately ran
out the front door and down the street with a knife-wielding
cardboard robot hot on my heels. In hindsight, we probably should
have warned the family across the street whose little children were
playing outside before doing that scene. They seemed very
understanding about the whole thing, so no harm done I suppose.
From
there, we transitioned into a montage of cardboard robot activities,
expertly cut together by Mike, which of course was set to the song
Spanish Bombs by The Clash, because hey, it has Spanish in it. Among
other things, the robot washes my car, goes shopping with me at
Goodwill, and hits a triumphant home run in baseball.
For
the baseball scene, we went to a public park to shoot it, and a
little league team was using the baseball diamond. When we asked them
if we could borrow the diamond for a few seconds to shoot the scene,
they did us one better and offered to be in the scene with the robot.
Why the robot would be playing baseball against a random team of
small children was a question I left up to the audience's
imagination. It worked out even better than expected. As Mike rounded
the bases, arms raised in victory, the kids all stood around looking
seriously dejected by the fictional home run. One boy actually made
an exasperated gesture and threw his glove on the ground in dismay.
I'm lucky I didn't start cracking up again.
Just
as the montage ended and the infomercial should have been wrapping
up, we instead cut to Matt declaring, “Also, he dances really
well.” We then showed about 20 seconds of Mike in the robot
costume, doing the robot. This was set to the song Mr. Roboto by
Styx. Yes, of course it was.
Matt
proclaimed proudly that other robotic servants cost more than $1000,
but you could have El Criado Bionico Dos Mil for only four easy
payments of $499. By watching the reactions of our classmates, I
could tell not everyone noticed something odd about that statement.
Thus, it was easy to tell which students had been falling behind,
either in Spanish or in Math. The viewer was then urged to pick up
the phone and call 1-800-555-SCAM. That one was a bit more obvious.
Furthermore,
Matt urged, if you called right this moment, you would receive El
Criado Bionico Dos Mil security system for free. The video then cut
to myself and my robot in the park. We were walking along minding our
business, and wouldn't you know it? A ninja appeared to assassinate
me. Yes, of course he did. Fortunately, my loyal robot assumed a
kung-fu stance, held out his hand with palm facing up, and beckoned
with his fingers: the universal gesture for “Bring it on, sucka.”
The ninja charged, and quick as a flash, was soundly walloped by the
mighty robot, who stood over his unconscious form in triumph.
As
the infomercial drew to a close, Matt declared, “El Criado Bionico
Dos Mil: te alegraras que tu obteniste uno!” (You'll be glad you
got one) The camera cut back to the fallen ninja, who raised his head
and gave an inexplicably cheery thumbs-up to the camera, just as the
baseball from earlier finally came down from the sky and bonked him
on the head, knocking him out once again.
From
there, the credits rolled over brief clips of outtakes, including me
fidgeting with the camera and making odd faces, and Mike as the robot
unmasked. As you can likely imagine, the presentation was met with
thunderous applause from the class. We received an A+ grade. People
stood and cheered. A few wept with joy. A girl screamed that she
wanted to have my babies. Some of the aforementioned things actually
happened, among them the A+ grade from the teacher.
As
much delight as we all derived from this project, it did not end
there. Some two years later, I was informed by my younger cousin that
she was taking Spanish as well, and received the same video
assignment. To give the class ideas of the levels of excellence they
should strive for, the teacher showed them old videos that had been
exceptionally well done. Naturally, my cousin was delighted, but not
altogether surprised, to see me being a complete ham on the
television. Knowing that another generation of students got to enjoy
that spectacular production made me proud of our fine work all over
again.
That
legendary infomercial premiered in 2004. At this time, I'm unsure if
there are any surviving copies. The teacher would have had one VHS,
and there were three others belonging to the group members involved.
I'm not sure where my copy is, if it hasn't just been lost to the
sands of time. If I'm lucky, I might find it in time for our high
school reunion. It would be a great memory to relive. Other folks'
fondest memories from high school might involve their first loves, or
being valedictorian, or a great play they made on the football team.
My moment of glory involved calling safe as a cardboard robot rounded
home plate after passing an outfield full of distraught kids.
Dressing
up as rapper Lil' Jon on the last day of senior year still makes a
close second, though.
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