Confused Views: How to become the subject of a biopic

I am so sick of going to see films about other people! When is Hollywood going to get round to making a film about me?
When watching The Social Network at my local cinema I noticed something interesting about the main character. He was a moody dick. Now I’m feeling a bit confused. If they were looking to make film about a moody dick, particularly a pale one who spends all of his time on a computer, where was my call?

Of course, in the instance of Mark Zuckerberg, I think the reason he was the subject of a film was that he invented Internet despair-generator, Facebook. That does seem to be the key to getting a film made about your life - you have to do something of note. Even if it’s negative, like inventing a website which makes you feel obliged to talk to boring people you kind of knew 15 years ago about how fulfilling their increasingly bland lives have become, and how remarkable their unsightly, unremarkable offspring are, or composing your own DIY guide to exhuming bodies and making clothing from them, as in the case of Ed Gein.

Gein is the inspiration behind basically every horror film ever made. Perhaps the two most noteworthy examples are The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Silence Of The Lambs (certainly more noteworthy than any of the films that feature his name in the title, a sure sign that a film is going to be unwatchable tossamanonsense).

However, as much as I’m desperate to see myself represented on the big screen, I simply don’t want it enough to dress in human flesh and run around in the woods pretending to be a lady. I get enough abuse about how I dress as it is. Plus, I’m no man of nature. I’ve found ways of slipping in dog shit in the most urbanised, animal-unfriendly cityscapes known to man. The chances of me surviving a trek through the woods, wrapped in a carefully designed cloak of female human flesh complete with nipple-broaches, without bungling into a pool of wild-animal faeces, seem low.

Of course, Gein isn’t the only figure of crime I should be looking to. I think a Goodfellas-style rise through the mob might be out of the question, as I feel a bit uncomfortable wearing a suit, and even more uncomfortable in the company of people who would happily shoot me in the face. Incidentally, that’s why I never socialise with the readers of this site. (Zing!)

Amanda Knox, though, has found herself the subject of a biopic recently, and all she had to do was be involved in a murder and look good. That, and having such a pun-friendly surname can’t have done her any harm.

What am I supposed to do with the surname Edwards? I’d have to commit my crimes amongst the trees, and I think I’ve made my thoughts on nature quite, quite clear.

Of course, Knox probably won’t get to see the movie about her as she’s in jail, so this won’t work for me either. This is a flaw that comes up in all of the crime related plans - you miss the film because you’re in prison as a result of doing the thing that makes them want to make a film about you.

I wouldn’t last in prison. I’m too pretty, polite, and health and safety conscious. I would feel obliged to pick up any dropped bars of soap so that no one slips on them.

So I’m left looking at what I can achieve for the subject of this cinematic masterpiece, and the view is bleak. It’s difficult to imagine anyone rushing out to see a film based on me dancing around the isles of my local Iceland supermarket, like a sober Kerry Katona with better career prospects.

I don’t think there are enough computers in the world to create a suitable amount of CG to make an interesting feature film of me sitting in my lounge eating snacks (product placement opportunity!) whilst staring open-mouthed at the TV like a lethargic zombie, only getting up and shuffling to the door occasionally to check for the post.

Has anyone seen the film Stuck? It’s directed by Stuart Gordon, it's bloody good and is based on a true story, so naturally I took note. In Stuck, some careless div drives their car into a homeless man and, when he becomes lodged in her windscreen, she parks up in her garage and leaves him there. That guy had a film made about him! All I need to do is be involved in a horrible accident or be the victim of some stomach-churningly cruel incident and then I get a film. It’s as easy as that.

It’s important here to note that I don’t want just any accident. I do not want to be the subject of any film that is about a man who has his genitals torn off by the pearly white teeth of a ferocious lion that has escaped a local zoo and snuck into his apartment, presumably disguised as the post. Nothing involving the groin. Or the eyes. Or the head. Or anything that will leave any kind of lasting mark. Or anything that hurts or looks like it would hurt. Or anything that will cause me any anxiety. Or anything that will make me look stupid. Or anything. Sorry, the film’s off. I’m just too important for me to be willing to risk me.

Anyway, the point to this column is this: I’ve got the script for Matt Edwards: Balls Of An Angel just sitting here gathering dust. It’s the inspirational tale of a heroic everyman who makes Super Noodles and then sneers at X Factor. Hollywood, you can reach me by telephone. For goodness sake, let’s give the people what they want and get this franchise off the ground.

Also, I would like to be rich so all offers will have to be big $$$ amounts.

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