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            Hooray! My writer’s block has lifted and I am working on a new magnus opus screenplay, “I Am Uninterested… the Pink Version” (in Swedish, Jag är ointresserad… den rosa versionen).

            Synopsis: Lars, who has an identity crisis, wonders if he might secretly be Bjorn. As Bjorn, he is dating Camilla and building a major chateau in the countryside of Luxembourg. Easy to film, there are many castles in the countryside of Luxembourg. Meanwhile, as Lars, he is in a dead-end job as loading dock manager for a big box hardware retailer on Route 9 in Howell, New Jersey. Lots of “Fast and Furious” type action among the strip malls along Route 9.

            Cynthia, extremely sexy in a Dragon Tattoo way, has no reason to be in this movie, but breaks into Lars’ apartment, which in itself is amazing since there are, like, no apartment houses anywhere near Route 9 in Howell, New Jersey! OMG! Mile after mile of suburban developments, it’s all single-family dwellings. Go figure.

            For reasons of plot, Cynthia breaks into the apartment to steal the keys to Lars’ Lamborghini, a gift from Lars’ inanely rich and successful father (think of a character played by Christopher Plummer). Never mind whether the story line is credible, this gives us the op to show a luxury mansion, a Lamborghini, adult cigarette smoking and babes swimming in an indoor pool—all great for high-end product placement.

            Love those bikinis!

            Hans, friend to Lars (is the Swedish influence coming through here?), spirits him away on a mountain-climbing expedition up Mount Rainier. Ice axes firmly in hand, this adds suspense; think “Cliffhanger” or the slide scene in “Batman Begins.”

            Hans: (balancing one-handed on icy ledge)  “True story. In college, I had a girlfriend from West Virginia. I told her, ‘The British make fun of the French, the French make fun of the Italians, the Swedes make fun of the Norwegians, the Minnesotans make fun of the Wisconsonites and the Virginians make fun of the West Virginians. Who do the West Virginians make fun of?’ And she replied, ‘What?’”

          Eventually, they make it down from the mountain.

          Camilla announces she is preggies. Are we veering toward situation comedy? These couch-potato sequences of endless dialogue, clever repartee and a pet monkey alternate with “Boardwalk Empire” style activity—violent, garishly lit, clumsy—on the loading dock.

           Rich Monte Carlo gambling sojourn via father’s private Learjet adds James Bond spice to dragging middle of film.

            So far, so good. Enter the U.S. Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services. Since Lars originally came to the U.S.A. on a 3-month tourist visa and has been living in this country illegally for umpteen years, he is given a choice: Flack for the C.I.A. as a planted informer à la The Democratic Terrorist (Jan Guillou’s Den demokratiske terroristen) or get deported. Lars chooses deportation.

           Bitter, he joins a madrassa in Brandbergen, Sweden and becomes a Muslim fanatic. Also, at 34 years of age, he finds it embarrassing to be studying Arabic and Islam with 12-year-old boys.

            His very first mission is to blow himself up on the train to Uppsala, Sweden, demonstrating once again to the West the implacable fanaticism and determination of the Muslim people, etc. On the train, his explosive vest strapped securely beneath his flowing robe, Lars comes face-to-face with Camilla and his infant son. She has come to Sweden looking for him and to take a two-year course in gynecological nursing at the University of Uppsala, etc.

            Should Lars blow up the three of them or not? Or is he secretly Bjorn? This is a very Swedish predicament. Talk about a cliffhanger ending! 

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            This screenplay is currently available for option on a first-come or highest-bidder basis.

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