Old Wine, New Bottles

[Meljo]

Percentages and Office Supplies

Show tonight!

I just handed out the last of my flyers. The response I've gotten from people has been positive so far: "Free? Kickass! I'm there!" or "I can't make it, but I'll pass the flyer to someone who can!". These are the responses that make me happy.

I love the idea of showing the city and the general UArts population what I mean when I say "kickass longform improv" -- because me trying to explain to people what this is all along has been quite trying. Like any show, you have to be there to enjoy it to its full potential, and saying things like "oh man! then Delaney and Dave were horses and they had british accents and it kicked my ass!" is fine for me, but to the people I'm telling this to, I'm sure I appear crazy.

SO. That having been said, Dillinger, you rock my world. I love that you're all so willing to help me - I love that you say hi when you see me in the theater glowing like an idiot, or in McManus acting like an idiot. I love how supportive and enthusiastic you all are, both onstage and off -- and I can't wait to scream like a little girl tonight when you wow me yet again with your ass kicking-ness. :love:

I can't wait to see how far my Rare Birds have come tonight. They rocked in December, and since then, I know they've gotten better, so I'm excited, to say the least. They'll be one bird short, though. :wishy:

If I had known in September when I met you what you were going to introduce me to, I wouldn't have let things get as screwed up as they did. Needless to say, I wish you could be here tonight to see what you had a hand in creating -- Philadelphia has you to thank.

I don't care how cold it is tonight, I'm wearing a fucking skirt. And I'll be damn cute doing it.

 

[Meljo]

I'll follow the sun

Philadelphia was a rocking place to be on Friday night. Dillinger was sweet and wonderful and came down to headline the CENTER CITY SHOCK TREATMENT! Which also consisted of The Throng from Haverford and the ever-ass kicking Rare Bird Show. I got to host. It ruled!

I was really surprised (and relieved) at how great the turnout was. Every seat was filled, people were standing all around, and I don't think one person in there had a bad time. I even had "professional" improvisers (her word... not mine) come up and ask me to plug their $15 show. That's how big this crowd was.

There's nothing in the world quite like seeing the result of something awesome that you've created. Sitting off to the side during the show and watching everyone in the audience have an amazing time was really a trip for me. Feed your need to create, I guess. You know, I say that a lot, feed your need to create. Dave Blumenfeld said it to me when I interviewed the Swarm this time last year, and it stuck with me -- I guess it's sort of a motto now. High five, Dave.

Class on Saturday was super. We learned the format for our graduation show, which sort of resembles the beginnings of an Armando -- suggestion, then monologue opening, then scenes. Jackie started us off with just doing three scenes derived from the monologue, and I don't know if that's how our show is going to be or not... I'm not quite sure. We have two more weeks to iron things out, though, and I think we're going to be okay. While practicing the format, we stumbled upon a group game, and surprised ourselves and Jackie by not letting it turn into a total clusterfuck. The scene was four kids, a mother, a drunken father and a sack of potatoes. We were hungry Irish children being yelled at by our extremely pregnant mother who later gave birth to twins. We all adopted irish accents, which was awesome, and what we were doing actually made sense and was a lot of fun.

After class, I got to play UCB intern for a day with my new best friend, Angela DeManti. Angela had a friend visiting from California who she was forcing into doing slave labor, and having noplace else to go, I offered to help build set pieces for the midnight pop culture show. It was a blast, really. I've only been in the greenroom at UCB once before, and it was a madhouse, so it was different to see it empty. I got to meet Julie Brister after her class was done, and wanted to say something about her journal that I never miss an entry of, but didn't want to seem like a dork.

After many horrible adventures on the subway, Angela, Sandeep and I ended up at McManus where we split a pitcher and talked about boys. Hey -- it's what girls do. Watch out. Girls also eat Oreos and popcorn and have slumber parties.

Sunday morning, we went to the Met by way of delicious New York brunch. I fucking love the met. I love art, specifically impressionist paintings, and ESPECIALLY Monet. I realized that the things I can talk about for hours and hours without slowing down are Impresionism, the history of Television and NBC, and improv. I love that I always feel at home when I'm around impressionist paintings. I think that might be because everything I know about them was taught to me by my mother -- what kind of brush strokes each artist has, what subjects they most liked to paint, where to stand in relation to the painting to see what the artist intended you to see, etc. She's a smart lady, that mother of mine.

At 2, I left the met to haul ass back downtown to meet some people from my class at a rehearsal at the Producer's Club (second stage this year for your Del Close Marathon, in fact). We were coached by the IRC's own qnarf, aka Dave, who taught us an awesome trick for coming up with possibilities of scene topics from a suggestion - the A -> C method. Instead of doing a scene based on A, the suggestion, make a word-association type link in your head, and build a scene off of C. For example, if A were "popcorn", B would be "movies" and C could be "Disney," so instead of having a scene about popcorn, you'd have one about they horrible, horrible Disney corporation. Why am I writing this down? You guys know all this already.
Something Dave mentioned which I am really glad he did is the Ian Roberts idea "if this, then what else?" which is a kickass tool for finding the game of the scene, which we all have trouble with in class. Yay improv!

I have to take the time now to vent a little bit. Is it normal to have a black sheep in your class? Because we definately have one. He's... the weirdest freaking kid in the whole world. And, while weird is fine, and more power to him, he's the kind of person who insists on being jokey in improv and destroying any chance of a successful scene. He also dresses, acts and smells like a hobo, and insists on doing improv with a toothpick in his mouth.
So, yesterday when he showed up to our rehearsal at 3PM drinking beer, I knew we were all in for a ride. He took the suggestion "Superman" and turned it into a "Soup or Man" gag, and then tried to take it back, totally apologizing. His scene partner, Erik, made him commit to his initiation though, which I was really glad to see. It was as if Erik forced this guy to see that when you're jokey, your scene blows.
What's worst of all about this guy is that he feels the need to touch me whenever he has the opportunity. For example, he always waits until I'm in a scene or singing during hot spot to participate so that he can tag me out. At first, I thought I was being paranoid, but after 6 weeks and 7 rehearsals, it's true.
I thought I was the only one who is bothered by this individual, but as it turns out, I am not. In fact, when asked if I was annoyed by him by another classmate, it was revealed that everyone is bothered by him, and everyone avoids doing scenes with him.

He really makes me uncomfortable. It's very VERY hard for me to do scenes with people I don't particularly like -- I learned that back in September when I was practicing with the delightful people that now make up Rare Bird Show (plus one). It's a definate weakness, and I need to get over it. However, I think it might be easier to just learn to like everybody.

Feel better, Matt Pack!

 

[Meljo]

Here I Dreamt I was an Improviser

I just started thinking about my graduation show that's coming up (Sunday! April 4! 2:30PM! I'd love to see you there!), and my heart sank. Don't get me wrong -- I'm excited to be completing level 1. I'm excited to be able to ask Jackie for general notes and to make a recommendation for what teacher she thinks I'd do best with for level 2; I'm THRILLED to not have to live out of my suitcase anymore; and now that the weather is getting nice, I'm excited not to have to spend my Saturdays on a train. However, when I think about saying goodbye to the people in my class, I get kind of upset.

I didn't expect to have this kind of rapport with them. They're all spectacular people. Some of them will go on to higher levels in the UCB school, but some of them will blend back into the New York City oblivion that they came out of, and I'll likely never see them again. It's weird to think that our schedules won't ever line up again for us to all take another class together.

I didn't realize how special our class relationship was until recently. We had a very lovely gentleman named Mike join us to make up a class this past weekend, and he gaped at us in wide eyed wonderment as we laughed and joked, maintaining that for three hours every week for the past two months, we were best friends. He told us that his class wasn't like that at all, and that he thought about skipping HIS last class this week so that he could make up another class with us.

It's really easy to learn when you completely trust the people you're learning with. I only hope I feel as comfortable around whatever group of people I take levels 2, 3 and 3b with.

So, that's why I'm bummed. I love them all, they rock. I'm excited for this weekend, but I can't help but feel like I'm saying goodbye something special.

We should all take Jackie out for a beer. Because nothing says thanks like beer... or a stripper.

 

[Meljo]

I took his picture, but i missed and got the floor.

So that's that. I'm officially a graduate of UCB Level 1.

When I look back on the past 9 weeks, it feels like a much shorter period of time, but when I think about how far I've come, both in my improv and my life, it seems like it's been years since this whole adventure began.

I feel like the show went really well. I set one goal for myself, which was to get out of my head, and I feel like I did that. That's been my goal for the past week or so, really... ever since I really determined that to be the root of all my problems. Gethard and I were talking about this on Thursday afternoon, and he gave me some of the best advice I think i could have gotten at that point. He told me to go out with a "fuck the audience" mentality, and just do this for me. Thursday when I went out to Haverford to practice, I did just that. While there was no audience, I went out and did scenes for myself. I didn't care what anybody else in the group thought of my scenework, and in doing that, I was able to listen to what was going on and contribute better things. It's amazing what the words "fuck you" and "don't think" can really accomplish if you understand their meaning.

The show! Was fun! We did an Armando type thing. The first group made a callback to a really early class and called themselves "Triscutuwitz" (yes, like the cracker), and were really great. I was oblivious to the fact that we were just level one kids trying to graduate while they were performing -- I was watching my friends up there having an awesome time, and I was really proud.

The second group, of which I was a part, dubbed ourselves "The Random Hookups," as suggested by Jonathan and seconded by Joe, both of whom should make out with me (what? who said that?). Seriously, though. That was our name. I was nervous at first, but when Jackie said our name, and we walked through the backstage and appeared from behind that curtain... I don't know, it just felt really right... like I'd been waiting to do this for a long time and was finally getting to. Oh, wait. That's what actually happened.

Our suggestion was "jungle love," and for the life of me, I couldn't think of a monologue to start with, and was glad that i couldn't, becuase all the stories that I have to tell are LAME! Observe:

When I played youth soccer in the first grade, I was at practice one day, and we decided to have a little scrimmage. We had a co-ed team, as little kids don't even really need genders, because they don't know what's going on. So, we played our scrimmage shirts vs. skins. By default, all the girls had to be on the shirts team, plus some of the boys. I was outraged, and wanted to be on the other team (basically just becuase i was told that i couldn't be), so I took my shirt off and went to join the skins team. Mr. Hanson, our coach, told me to go ask my mom, who was sitting in her car in the parking lot with all the other moms if it was okay for me to be on the skins team. I went over and asked her, at which point she began cracking up and made me put my shirt back on. If only I were as comfortable with my body today. *

My favorite scene that I was in was one where Jonathan was a doctor and I was a paitent, and he diagnosed me with three terrible diseases: Montazuma's revenge, Napoleon's Scourge, and Stalin's Rage. The symptoms of the latter two diseases included being banished to a small island and killing a man at the bus station. In a later scene, Xavier and Elaine were a couple that was breaking up becuase Xavier was cheating on her with Montazuma (Joe). That's when the most amazing thing happened in my head. The scene went on for a few seconds, and then, I said to myself "man, I wish Napoleon would walk in and confess that he'd been cheating with Elaine." Then I remembered that this magical art before me was, in fact, improvised, and that I, Mel Johnson, could for one moment in time, be Napoleon. SO, I said to myself "oh my god, that's the game! I see the game!" SO I DID IT.

Let me tell you: I was so proud of myself. I CAN NEVER SEE THE GAME! AND I SAW IT! The scene was swept after I entered as Napoleon and said to Elaine in a french accent "Zees is zee perfect time to tell zem about us!", after which Jonathan made my day by looking at me on the back line and saying "yeah, you did, Mel. that was awesome." And that's when it hit me.

I'm actually an improviser now.

After that, I was officially out of my head. I floated through those scenes happily and stress free, like I was a morbidly obese shut-in eating a whole cake. I don't even remember a lot of the following scenes, but I do remember the last one. Elaine had told a monologue about standing in the TKTS line and getting bothered by the people around her, so I initiated a scene where I was in line shouting at people about how wonderful it was that the plant in "little shop of horrors" on broadway was being operated by the guy who did it in the rick moranis movie all those years ago. I was speaking in this horrible obnoxious voice, and Tevis, whom I was bothering in line, asked me what was wrong with my voice, to which I replied "I'm a smoker!" and that was the black out line.

And then, just as quickly as it started, it was done. And I was sad, and a little jealous of the people starting level 2 with Brian Huskey on Monday (Rebecca, Jonathan, Ethan and Kevin).

After the show, we were all invited to join Jackie at McManus for a beer and some good times, which was awesome. I exchanged phone numbers with everybody and promised myself that those numbers would actually get dialed in the future. I love those guys, I don't ever want to lose touch.

I was really surprised at how ALL of us are planning on progressing to higher levels. I expected a few people to keep going, but not everyone... and everyone IS continuing, with the exception of three or four people. Jonathan even expressed to me that he'd love to teach level 1 one day. I think that's wonderful... I think it's wonderful that we all love this enough to come back as much as we can, and take as many classes as we can fit into our busy lives.

We have Jackie to thank for that. :up:

Wow, this entry is almost as sappy as the last one. If you've made it this far, PM me and let me know, and I'll buy you a beer next time I'm in the city.

Rebecca is organizing a dinner party for us to have once the weather gets nice -- a reunion of sorts. I like them apples.

*sorry.... worst story ever.

 

[Meljo]

Thank you to everyone who congratulated me on my level 1 happiness. It really means a lot to me.

If i were to count the wonderful people in my life, I'd be up all night.

I really reccomend being happy. It's quite super.

Goodnight.

 

[Meljo]

This isn't going to be a very long entry (I know you're all very sad about that) because I have to run to class in a second. I just wanted to say this, because I'm extremely excited, and I can pretend you care by forcing you to read it in my journal, whereas if I were to IM people, they'd probably just close the box on my sorry ass.

Dear Community of Improvisers that almost all own iPods,

I have joined you! That's right - after FOUR MONTHS of agonizing order problems, I am now the proud owner of my very own 15GB iPod. When I opened the box, I couldn't stop smiling, and when I plugged it into my firewire port in my iMac and read the part of the instruction manual that said "if you have a Mac, plugging it in automatically charges it" I almost peed in my pants.

Hooray for everything! Now I can carry my early to mid 90's girl pop and Led Zeppelin with me wherever I go!

:love: :love: :love:

------------------------

This was the first weekend in THREE MONTHS that I haven't gone to NY or UCB for that matter. Yes, I missed it, and yes, I was more than a little bored... but on the bright side, I ate an ENTIRE HAM with my family yesterday. Okay, maybe not an entire ham, but a lot of ham. I love Easter. We listened to a homily about zombies in church. I just wish it hadn't been raining.

 

[Meljo]

More than just iPods to celebrate

Today is an anniversary of sorts. Today, April 12, is the anniversary of me deciding once and for all that giving up was not an option.

I was going to transfer. I had been accepted to the University of Tennessee, where I was going to go major in music, because up until then, music was all I knew how to do with my life. I had the sweatshirt; I had my bags packed. All that was left to do was to go to New York to have one last hurrah before leaving the northeast for quite some time. And, I had to go see the new UCBT. A friend had told me that the new theater was supposed to open on April 1, so I’d go, then say goodbye for a while, and be back in the summer for the marathon, then start at UT in the fall, and live out my days as the eternal queen of marching band. For someone who knew what she wanted to do with her life at the age of 12, giving up and retreating to the south with my tail between my legs was a terrible and unexpected thing, and if it hadn’t been for that rainy night last year, I would have done it.

“Good Grief, Meljo! Spit it out! What HAPPENED?”

Why, I saw the Swarm, of course. I’d seen them many times before, and admired from afar, but never before had I spoken to them.

After the show was over, my adrenaline pumping all the way, I headed an unsuspecting Andy Secunda off at the door. I introduced myself, and was surprised to hear that he remembered me from our brief online encounters (during which I often drilled him with a sea of questions about my ideal goal in life, which also happened to be his then occupation – writer for Late Night with Conan O’Brien). We made polite conversation, as we often do, during which he said something along the lines of “it’s great that you know what you want to do and how to get there at this age.”

CUT TO:

An excerpt from the second entry ever of Old Wine, New Bottles:

“All these feelings I'd had where I'd doubted myself entirely melted away, leaving my former ambitious self behind. It ruled. If you've never had an epiphany, I totally recommend it. It's a memorable event.”

There it was. My brain twisted itself around in my head and right there, in front of my improv hero, who said something else, but I didn’t hear it. He gave me a hug and said goodbye, after which my friend and I left. I remember walking through the subway station later wondering why my face was wet. Apparently, it was pouring down rain on the Manhattan streets above, but I was oblivious to it. I was myself again. And it was incredible.

It’s amazing how something can be one sentence of speech to one person, and to another, it can be earth shattering and life changing. I bet if I asked him about it, Andy wouldn’t remember any of this.

SO. When I got back to Philadelphia, I had a goal. Improvise, or die trying. I almost died several times, I’ll admit. But, here I am today, happy and healthy with improv in my life where there was none before. I am part of a practice group that meets once a week, I have UCB 1 under my belt, I’m part of a group that’s submitting to the DCM this summer, and I have some kickass friends in both the UCB and nationwide improvising communities. And it’s all because of a good, swift kick in the pants.

Gethard said something really beautiful when I spoke to him the other day. He said that there were more than enough people stepping in other people’s footprints in the snow, and not enough people making fresh ones. Everyone’s goal in improv should be to give back as much to the art form as it has given to you. After it has given me so much, I look forward to paying improv back.

And this is only the beginning.

Thank you, Andy.

 

[Meljo]

Resurrected!

As of Saturday, October 23, I have the pleasure of being a student of Kevin Mullaney. I'm taking level 2 with no one I've ever met before, although the people that I am taking class with seem entertaining and sweet. My class is from 3-6pm, so this means that I spend the majority of my day on the NEW JERSEY TRANSIT between New York and Philadelphia, having nothing to keep me sane but a cell phone, a notebook, and my ipod.

There are certain songs that can entirely change your mood and the way you feel about the world at any given moment. I'm always amazed by this, how certain beats and guitar rifts and melodies can get your blood flowing in such a way that you are invincible. Saturday, I started my day in a foul mood. I was depressed (probably about some stupid boy in my acting and directing for writers class), anxious, and, to be quite honest, scared. Of what? Of a lot of things. First off, it's been over 6 months since I've taken an 8 week improv course, with only the occasional workshop here and there to keep me sane. When I was taking said 8 week improv course, I knew I was learning things, but I didn't really feel.... I don't know, like I was making progress. But it's level 1, right? A lot of those people are just there to take a class, and don't really know what they're getting themselves into. A lot of those people try to be funny every time they step out from the back line because they want to impress Jackie in her cute little pants that I wish I owned. A lot of those people were hilarious people: people that I wish I knew what they were up to. [Jonathan Hefter, where are you?].

So there I sat. Scared. Anxious. Sticky from NJT residue, clutching my ipod for sanity. The song that changed my mood at that moment was Army by the Ben Folds Five. While that song played, nothing could touch me. I danced, I lip synched along, and I related when he shouted "But my redneck past is nipping at my heels." And, when I stepped off the train and walked as quickly as my stubby little legs would carry me to 39th St for my first ever Level 2 class, I was happy, and not afraid.

Class was.... I can't think of a descriptive enough adjective. It opened doors in my head that I didn't know were locked, or there, or something. Let's just say that I now know why all of you have nothing but the utmost respect for Kevin Mullaney.

I'm not going to lie to you -- class wasn't perfect for me. I'd like to tell you that I got up there and didn't do anything wrong, and didn't say stupid things and make stupid choices. I did all of those things. BUT. I didn't feel bad about them. I embraced my mistakes for the first time in my improv life and didn't beat myself up about them. I learned from them. In fact, I welcome more mistakes to be corrected by Mullaney so I can learn more.

But I'm crazy, you know.

Three hours was over in a flash. I was more at ease than ever I have been after improvising, and I couldn't wait to get back on the NJ Transit to throw open my eager-nerdbook and write down everything that just happened. I look forward to next week [I was going to miss class, thereby choosing an event that has to do with my past over improv, which has to do with the progression of my future, but now I'm not. I'm about to choose future over past once and for all].

I've been thinking a lot today....

 

[Meljo]

I was robbed yesterday.

I'm okay, but I am without money, or debit card, so i have no way of getting any. I was sitting at starbucks with my bag slung over the chair behind me, and someone reached into my bag and took my debit card and my mom's visa... which blows. A lot. Luckily, I noticed this before he could make any outstanding charges.

I hate society. Oh, and Philadelphia. Philadelphia sucks, too.

 

[Meljo]

All I really wanna say is you're the reason I want to stay

When you're a screenwriter, as I am, you start to break parts of your life down into three act structure. I don't know what chapter I am currently on, or how many sequels there have been, or how many actresses have played Meljo on the big screen of life. I do know, however, that last Saturday was my low point, and the week to follow was my climax, and here I am at the end of a resolution.

That made sense to me, so now I suppose I should break it down for people who aren't inside my head.

Last friday was bad. It was cold, and pouring down rain, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die, and everyone I interacted with that day affirmed that. SO, I said to myself, the Swarm will help! But, certain social interactions with people I didn't expect to see before the show prevented me from letting the Swarm carry me to my happy place.
[a little side note: the Swarm was represented by Delaney, Dave and Billy, who asked Geth and Zach Woods to sit in with them, which was a joy to watch.]
I stayed with Ange on Staten Island, which was the highlight of my trip, despite the NOVEMBER SNOW FLURRY. We bitched, and things got a little better from said bitching, but then it was time for DEPRESSED SLEEP, where I had ANXIETY FILLED DREAMS. I awoke at noon on Saturday with four hours of restless sleep under my belt, desperate hunger for a muffin of some kind, and the desire for the first time in my entire life to get on the next bus back to Philadelphia without attending my class and never second guessing my decision.

So, that's exactly what I did, right after I CRIED ON THE STATEN ISLAND FERRY. After the crying [which was my actual lowpoint] I went on a little soul search to 30 Rock, the building and the surrounding dreamscape that began this whole journey for me 8 long years ago. And I'll be damned. It worked.

Thirty Rock makes me think of a lot of things, but on that particular day, it reminded me that everyone has their own individual New York that they have carved out just for them, while everyone shares a collective idea of the city they call home. For example: our individual New Yorks consist of favorite bars and diners, and that one bagel place that is just THE BEST, and the homeless people who become familiar along your walk home each day, comforting sounds of neighbors through the walls, smells, friends, improv classes; and everyone's collective New York is the New York that Woody Allen paints so beautifully in all of his films. Thirty Rock is part of that New York, as is Macy's, the naked cowboy, the entire christmas season, socks with taxicabs on them, artwork along the edges of central park for sale, a favorite painting inside the Met, horse drawn carriages.

I guess the most depressing thing was realizing that I don't yet have my own new york. I hop from one person's individual idea of this place to another, never really having the chance to settle on my own. Every trip I get better, every walk down those streets teaches me something new about myself.

And so, I let myself soul search in the warm environment of a collective New York, newly decorated for Christmas.

Saturday night, I returned to Philadelphia into the open arms of some of my dearest friends in the world who threw a birthday party just for me. And I loved every minute of it, especially the minutes where I was drinking out of the box of wine that Luke bought me. CLASSY.

Tuesday, I turned 20. There, I said it. I'm done being ashamed of my age.

Today, I returned to class from my "crazy hiatus" different than I've ever been. I wasn't in my head, I wasn't concerned. I honestly came to class today with a clean slate intending to have FUN. And I did just that. Hell, I even made Mullaney laugh. It was the best class I've ever had -- and I didn't always make the best choices, but I *did* learn how to make better ones next time. And because of that, I've never felt better.

And so, with our protagonist's resolution, we await the beginning of a new chapter. Another inciting incident is just around the corner.

:love:

 

[Meljo]

I Am Improv.

Thou art a new bottle in which old wine is kept.
Thou art the next generation.

I graduated from Mullaney's level 2 today. We were missing some people, so one of my classmates, Mike and I, got to play in both harolds. I had a wonderful time.

I was once told that when you get to the door of your rehearsal, if you have something on your mind or you're mentally in a bad place that you shouldn't go inside -- you should turn around and leave, and clear your head. What I have learned, is that theory doesn't apply to me. Improv is not therapy. It is, however, a constant in my life. Wherever I go, whatever I do, this will always be one thing that I know will make me happy. That's good to know.

Commuting three hours each way every week is a bitch, but hey, it's worth it.

I had a fairly horrible semester. I'm writing a movie that is marketable, yes, but I dislike it's uncanny resemblance to EVERY FILM I'VE EVER ENJOYED. My teachers encourage us to stunt our creative growth by assuring us that the only thing studios want to produce have already been done. This proves more and more true these days with the crap we see in the theaters, or, as I like to call it , a SEQUEL EXTRAVAGANZA!

Anticipated Sequels that I'm considering writing:

Legally Blonde 3: Mugged on the Subway
The Breakfast Club 2005
Johnny Dangerously 2
It's NOT a Wonderful Life: The Uncle Billy Story
Ernest Goes to Communist China [most of this film would have to be made up of outtakes from other films since, you know, he's dead]
Weekend at Bernie's 3: He's Starting to Stink

Merry Christmas, everybody.