Satire — Please stop making movies about me

Dallas Wiertella

Dear Mr. Hollywood,

It has come to my attention that, in the past decade or so, you may have used my likeness as an inspiration for some of the characters in your films. While flattered, I don’t remember signing any paperwork or even giving verbal consent for that matter — and my royalties are for sure not coming in as I have $24.75 in the bank as I write this letter. The most egregious part is that my name is not mentioned at any point within your films, and it is certainly not prominently displayed in the credits. 

It all started when “The Martian” was released and placed a witty, charming and intelligent Matt Damon on Mars where he is supposed to survive until he gets rescued. Throughout the movie, Damon was very sarcastic while showing off his intellectual prowess, much like how I am on the daily. I will admit that I have never been on Mars, but Damon acts just like me and how I would be on Mars, so you see the connection. 

In a similar case, the “John Wick” franchise hosts Keanu Reeves as a rogue and grizzled assassin performing feats of skill with weapon play and action-packed fight scenes. Now, I have never really been a fan of weapons and I think pinning me as an assassin is kind of a low blow, but I do see how you could have gotten that badassery from me and my life, so I thank you for that. Nevertheless, I can only see these films as my own life story but with extreme creative liberties to show off violence. 

Recently, in the movie “Spiderman: Far from Home,” Jake Gyllenhaal plays Mysterio, an egomaniacal, manipulative, narcissistic criminal who uses illusions and an attempt at charm to trick the world into thinking that he is way cooler than he actually is. My comparison here is that I look like Gyllenhaal just a little bit. 

At first, I was under the impression that you, Mr. Hollywood, were banking on me not figuring your scheme out, but you made one mistake that led me to be 100% certain of this taking of liberties.  

“Bullet Train” was an excellent movie in my opinion, maybe even one of my favorites. It has Brad Pitt as Ladybug, a hired hitman who has turned to a mantra of peace — which was literally my whole identity in 2021, but okay. He is charming, quick-witted and pretty adaptable to his environment. Already, the similarities were apparent, but I swallowed my pride in favor of Pitt’s career. 

Here is the kicker: the movie was released on August 5. What other iconic legend from your gallery of inspiration was born on August 5? Me. Did you really think I would not notice that cheeky little taunt? Did you think I was that clueless after studying my intellectual prowess and abilities for so long? I am embarrassed by your lack of skills, Mr. Hollywood, and ashamed that I am the one who has to call you out before you can even admit it.

My solution to this entire debacle is simple: hand over all of the rights to Hollywood. Although I will change it to Sallywood, I’ll keep you on as a producer or something. I won’t ask for compensation, and we really do not need to take this to court, so just hit my line and we will get this sorted.

Thank you,

Dallas “Sal” Wiertella

Editor’s Note: This piece is a satire column, not a news article. The information presented herein is not factual and is intended only for amusement. It is written by a non-staff contributing writer at the North Wind. As such, it expresses the personal opinions of the individual writer, and does not necessarily reflect the views of the North Wind.