They Told Me Not to Ask How They Eat and Breathe

Had kind of an epic Mystery Science Theatre 3000 dream last night. I dreamt I was watching a sort of prequel TV movie, sort of like Caprica, detailing the surprisingly complicated social and political realities that led to Doctor Forrester sending a man into space to watch bad movies. The TV movie had the whole MST3k cast credited, from both the early Joel and late Mike eras, but only J. Elvis Weinstein appeared in the half I saw in my dream, and it was the sort of appearance that felt very much like he was there because he only appeared in the first two seasons of the show. Sort of to help give the feeling that this was indeed early in the MST3k mythos, though his character, Doctor Erhardt, was augmented by modern cgi effects to be strangely short and round. He looked sort of like a smoother, hairless version of the Baron Harkonnen from the David Lynch adaptation of Dune. He was in a space station with some goons hatching plans of some kind without directly mentioning The Satellite of Love.

Most of the action, though, took place on Earth and the lead actors were Johnny Depp, Bill Pullman, and a young, pretty blond woman who might have been Amanda Seyfried. I remember two scenes--the young woman showing up at a dimly lit tavern, looking for the Johnny Depp character who was wearing a straw trilby with a purple band and small glasses with round lenses. He was drinking straight from a bottle and angrily told her to leave, that he wouldn't help her. She left, but was coaxed to return by Bill Pullman, who was wearing a bald cap for the role. He convinced her to wait awhile, that Depp's anger would cool as he sobered up.

In a later scene, Depp speaks to her about how difficult it is for people to acknowledge certain things. He laughs and seems like he has the tiniest inkling of interest in her and explains how the world can't look at things directly anymore, how it needs a filter. Then there's a cut to a shot of The Satellite of Love drifting ominously through open space.

Twitter Sonnet #319

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An anaemic Neptune marble bouquet?