Easter eggs are usually kind of a bum deal. Sure, when you finally find one it's like having a secret conversation with your favorite director ... but he's kind of a jerk, the conversation is one-sided and it's usually all about how much of a loser you are for spending a hundred hours sifting through the special features on your Firefly DVD just to find something Joss Whedon slapped together in five minutes.
What follows are the direct opposite of that: These are seven instances where the creators poured their blood, sweat and several other more unsavory fluids into creating something and put it right in front of your face ... and you didn't even notice.
Now who's the jerk, huh?
Note: In a time of bad movies birthed by a sick congress of stupidity and laziness, it's easy to forget that film can be great, can be chock-full of secrets, and can truly mean something to us. Like, in our hearts. So while you're waiting for the next great movie, we hope you'll use this Cracked Classic to remind yourself that good movies are even possible -- all it takes is for the creator to be completely out of their minds. -Cracked
When making Se7en, David Fincher knew that the movie's strength relied on "John Doe" being as deeply unsettling as possible. He couldn't just be a character (since he doesn't even appear on screen until the final minutes); he had to be a presence that was felt not only in the pertinent dialogue during his screen time, but also in the very air itself.
There's something unsettling about that word scrawled in blood on the floor, but we can't put our finger on it.
No, John Doe wasn't originally a serial-killing Hawkman, no matter how much better the movie clearly would have been; we mean his presence had to be largely atmospheric. So Fincher hired designer John Sable to "crazy that bitch up." And crazy a bitch up he did: Sable spent $15,000 on old journals, ripped them up and sewed them back together by hand, then baked them to release that delicious tattered journal flavor. Sable found as many pictures of "mutilated limbs, decapitated people, [and] people whose fingers had been sawn off" as he could, and then he started writing like a maniac.
No, seriously, like a total goddamn maniac.
Your sanity is grateful these aren't high resolution.
And you don't stop ...
'Cause you can't stop ...
Because you have mental problems.
Kyle Cooper, who created the film's title sequence, compared Sable to Dustin Hoffman's character in Rain Man. There were thousands upon thousands of pages of this stuff, almost all of which didn't the make the movie, beyond being scattered about in the background of John Doe's apartment. The most screen time this work saw was an eight-minute montage pocketed away on the DVD. But when Se7en ran out of money and couldn't shoot the title sequence they originally wanted, Kyle Cooper finally suggested using it.
"OK, jeez, I'll do it. Just stop trying to lick my eyeballs."
So sure, it all ultimately served some kind of purpose, but you could just as easily have outsourced the journal writing to heartbroken teenage girls and called it a day. Most fans would never have noticed the difference. It took a truly dedicated artisan to look all this crazy in the eye and say, "I want you inside me."
6The Thief and the Cobbler
The Thief and the Cobbler is the most ambitious cartoon you've never heard of. Just take a look at this clip. That is some seriously impressive CGI, right? Isn't it amazing that they could do all that way back in the '70s?
Oh wait, they couldn't.
That was all drawn by hand, every frame of it. Due to creator Richard Williams' crazy attention to detail, legal issues and the fact that every scene has at least twice as many hand-drawn frames per second as any other cartoon you've ever seen, Thief holds the world record for longest production ... at more than 30 years.
To be fair, 29 of those years were spent chaining mescaline, PCP and drain cleaner.
So why didn't this movie change the world, spit right in Disney's eye and kick start Pixar three decades in advance? Why, Hollywood bullshit, of course! With his movie nearly 85 percent complete, some of Williams' investors suddenly got scared, took the rights away from him and replaced every animator involved in the project. He could only watch as his 24-year labor of love was hurriedly completed by a bunch of scabs with a harsh deadline and no budget. In the end, Williams' film was mangled into an incomprehensible mess and released right around the same time as Aladdin, where it was widely regarded as a cheap rip-off, because the two were so damn similar ...
Disney's contribution to the villain character: "Make him browner."
Except the opposite is true, of course: Williams did it decades earlier, all by hand, and uphill -- both ways.