New Release

FADE TO ZILCH, A Motion Picture Screenplay by F. Lewis Hall,

based on the novel “The Unbearable Sadness of Zilch” by Konrad Ventana.

Dr. Joseph Metropolis calls himself a philosophical counselor, and he is looking for a paying client with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His latest client is none other than Zero Vaynilovich, aka Zilch, a famous Motion Picture Tycoon who comes to him demanding assistance in finding the missing love of his life. Although private detective work isn’t his usual employment, Dr. Metropolis agrees to help the lovelorn tycoon, realizing that this time it is not the usual hard-boiled Private Detective who is called upon to find some hidden Truth, it is the philosophical practitioner or “Perspicuous Eye” who is called upon to find the lost Beauty.

Thus begins a riveting narrative that shines a light into the darkest reaches of the human mind, taking us behind the curtains into the fabulous theatrical world of Hollywood, where celebrities and movie moguls strive to embrace the sources of their creativity while struggling with their own psychological demons. A compelling script of social criticism, Fade to Zilch, is a commentary on existentialism, modernism, and the emergence of a radical new brand of feminism: the feminist provocateur, amidst the twilight of an empire that has become devoid of artistic inspiration. Not since Nathanael West’s The Day of the Locust & F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Love of the Last Tycoon has Hollywood and the motion picture industry been shown in such a bold and illuminating light.


No one is innocent … not in this town. In this town, the apocalypse has come and gone, lifting the veil of innocence like a great velvet curtain in an old movie house, where the only victims that don’t return for the sequel are the gods themselves, struck out long ago by the big blue pencil …

In this town, every man, woman, and child takes the limits of his or her own field of vision to be the limits of the world …

Without the lamplights of fate that flicker in a constant state of anxiety through yonder movie reels, the collective vision would be blacker than the slate of a director’s clapboard.

No one is pure … not in this town. Sadly, that immortal instinct that senses the beautiful as it aspires to the divine is viewed nowadays as the desire of the moth for the star …

In this town, the boundaries that separate real life from mere living death are, at best, shadowy and vague. No longer is there any wild effort to reach that elusive beauty above, only a cool satisfaction with the garish beauty that is flashed before us.