Most Recent Temptation of ‘Ol Ernie Fosselius

My friend Ernie Fosselius has finally popped his remaining fuse. To anyone who ever worked around him in Marin County--much less anyone who even saw his office--it’s been a long time coming.

Fosselius, when I knew him, made funny short films. He’d begun by making a certain name for himself with a Star Wars parody called “Hardware Wars” in which all the threads holding the special effects kept getting caught by the camera lights; the space ships were represented by steam irons and the Princess Leia look-alike had raisin snail buns curled over her ears. It was swifter, cheaper by a few million dollars, and a whole lot funnier than Mel Brooks’ “Spaceballs” that limped onto the screen 10 years later.

My own favorite was an under-three-minute whiz-bang called “Armageddon Crowd Scene, Take 1.” He began with footage of an average day’s crowd aimlessly wandering back and forth at Fisherman’s Wharf. Over this, he added the voice of a harried director, or maybe second unit director, cueing each of the cars, boats, passers-by and even seagulls, an instant before they moved.

They were milling around, presumably, before a colossal special effects explosion being readied in the distance. You could hear far-flung units crackling in on walkie-talkies to report that they were set for this mega-event.

The dramatic countdown began at 10, got to 3, to 2. When the life-changing “1!” occurred, of course, the amblers, the Chevvies and the sea gulls continued doing exactly what they’d been doing. Only the voice-over director exploded. As I remember, none of the entire bunch would ever work again--including the sea gull.

Fosselius’ office was like walking into a Filmic Fun House. No surface was left uncrammed, no memorabilia was too large or too grotty to go ignored by the Maestro. I still have the going-away key chain he made me: A tiny slide-viewer with 10 tiny scenic views of L.A., including the very same observatory where they shot “Rebel Without a Cause,” a wind-up hand buzzer and a lucky rabbit’s foot.

Now I see Ernie has spilled over from films to books. What hit my desk this week was a “Hollywood Gift Catalogue” chock full of “Reel Values,” written and (sob!) illustrated by one Ernie Fosselius. Printed on cheesy paper, illustrated with tacky sketches, it’s an illustrated guide to hundreds of Hollywood insider gadgets. In it, you can see the accumulated observations of what is clearly becoming an unhinged mind. Details taken down on countless movie sets or during a youth misspent in hundreds of shabby movie palaces.

It begins innocently enough with a “$2.98 jar of Producer’s Lip Balm. Specially formulated to sooth those tired lips after a long script-reading session. Each jar is good for about 5 feature-length screenplays.”

Then there’s the P. A. Phone Pager, “Hey, Mr. Production Assistant,” runs the text, “ruined any audio takes lately?” This device is guaranteed to do the trick. It “emits a loud piercing beep at random intervals, simulating incoming phone calls to you. It’s guaranteed to cause expensive retakes and extra pay for you!” There is no off switch with this device, modestly priced at $42.95.

Stacked up, pyramid-style in another postage-stamp-sized drawing, are a set of real bargains: second-hand megaphones. “Used by famous and infamous directors alike,” they come stenciled with names, Mr. Griffith, Mr. Coppola and, simply, DeMille. (Fosselius tips his prejudices occasionally.) At “12 for $24 they come sterilized for your protection.” Taking its clue from ecologically sensitive catalogues, this one offers the Log-Matic Fire Log Maker, which makes slow-burning fireplace logs from scripts. “Not just economical, it’s EnviroSafe!” and just $42.67.

And on the modest side there are Status Stickers, self adhesive labels with which you can “Transform drab ordinary object like matchbook covers . . . into attention-getting souvenirs.” (I suspect this was a remaindered item: the name guaranteed to Impress Others! is Ma Maison.)

Keeping an eye on the Hollywood auction scene is Item SM258, “Rosebud, the Sled.” At $50,000, and illustrated with flames consuming the Citizen Kane icon, it announces modestly that “This is the real thing! A rare once-in-a-lifetime deal on a one-of-a-kind museum piece! Certified 100% genuine by experts in the know. Comes with complete documentation.”

For the budget minded, there’s the Filmmaker’s Break Reminder, a dial which “snaps onto any watch for quick and E-Z reference. Never miss another meal penalty or other pay-enhancing union infraction. Calculates double and triple Golden Time. Water resistant, it’s also IATSE compatible and only $19.95. There is the spray can of “LawyerOff! Repellent. Keeps most attorneys at a safe distance.” It’s only $4.98, and with only a slight change in the order number, you can get AgentOff. It, however, costs 10% of the gross.

For those in the studio system, there are the “ ‘Magic Slate’ Studio Parking Spaces, a device which makes names disappear as fast as studio executives do. Full-size parking space surfaces, they operate on the same lift-to-erase principle as junior’s Magic Slate. They are $200 per unit, and as the drawing suggests, require a crane to lift off the magic surface.” Whether--like batteries--the crane is included, Mr. Fosselius does not state.

But it edges him up to the catalogue’s pricier items like the “Power Lunch,” which looks like a metal lunch box, equipped with an off-on switch at one end and a pair of plugs on the side. “Generates 110 volts A.C. Plugs in up to two appliances, like a Cuisinart and an electric carving knife, for those Al Fresco picnics in the Hollywood Hills. ‘Do lunch’ in electrifying style!”

Finally, there’s the catalogue’s two-page piece de resistance, the Home Theater Simulator, which seems aimed straight for where couch potato/yuppies live. Cozying up to its reader, it purrs, “You prefer watching movies on tape at home where you’re safe from muggers and there isn’t a parking problem, but you’re beginning to miss that unique theater-going experience.” Well, “Simply insert any videocassette and $6 worth of quarters,” enter the room-like chamber and enjoy a few of its 10 inviting features:

PICTURE is OUT OF FOCUS and excessively DARK.

Vertical SCRATCHES are electronically superimposed.

LOOP LOSS device replicates an annoyance unique to theatrical film projection.

SOUND is electronically DISTORTED to reproduce familiar blown speaker effect.

And: The FLOOR is coated with ShmutzStik , a concentrated synthetic sugar-based adhesive, guaranteed to glue your shoes down.

This environment-in-a-box goes for $11,999.95, however it comes fully assembled. (Installation, utility and service charges separate.)

I put my copy of the catalogue down the other morning at breakfast, the better to make a point with both hands.

An executive, power breakfasting at the next table, began leafing through it, a puzzled look on his face. “A solar Rolodex,” he read. “complete with INSTA-JECT CARD EJECTOR to remove names of those no longer in favor.” Then he brightened: “You know, I could use one of those.”

Ernie, Ernie, you plucky devil, how can I break it to you? It’s just not possible to satirize Hollywood. Someone’s bound to think you’re not kidding.