A MBC Production; TROLLS: The Myth of the Monster
Created | Updated Jan 14, 2005
(OPEN out onto: A museum- a waxworks where in central shot stands a brutish barbarian creature adorned with horns, tusks, green skin brandishing an evil-looking axe. Then from the side of the creature appears an eccentrically dressed man.)
Subtitle: Doctor Henry Williams.
I am Henry Williams and I am here to discuss the darker sides of human nature, the beasts of mankind's dark dreams- "trolls", yes that might sound like a history of a creature that would usually be found under a bridge in a child's fairytale but that would be wrong. Trolls have been a part of human culture for approximately a long time, possibly several thousand years.
Creatures sub-categorised as goblins and hobgoblins have been known to follow the examples of these hideous creatures, however one thing has always remained whether they have been found in "The Three Billy-Goat gruffs" or digitally rendered in the Lord of the Rings' films. Trolls are fundamentally stupid creatures, a lumbering hunter brandishing a club usually with a dazed expression upon their faces. They are know for hiding, lying in wait much like the trapdoor spider.
(Cut To: a dramatisation of three goats crossing a rickety bridge wobbling in the breeze when from its underside there crawls a creature looking remarkably like the statue- an actor wearing prosthetics and make up. The first goat backs off, the troll wearing a hood swings its club, growling...)
These lumbering creatures may collapse into moments of hibernation whilst awaiting a potential prey or even rarer still- a mate. There is one certainty though; that there are only male trolls- no, no that sounds a bit harsh and chauvinistic but this is the case. A troll usually cares not about its own appearance; it's widely believed that these creatures attempted to mould their forms to match the terrain so that they could continue their hunt.
(Suddenly a stock-used animal roar resounding through a cavernous darkness. Squelching of the underfoot, a torch is brandished revealling Henry Williams looking to the camera.)
I'm standing now in a long abandoned troll dwelling some many feet below the surface, lets go in.
(He walks in slowly, the torchbeam wandering over the rancid blistered walls, dripping from the ceiling.)
The first thing you notice is the smell, it creeps over your nostrils and down into your lungs making one feel very sickly. Just as I am but needs must to uncover the truth. This cavern, this dwelling appears to be composed of a crude mud-like substance pasted against the sides of the wall, there appears to be a roughness, many clumps uneven, so as you can see they had no use for tools using only their basic hands to smear the mud into a wall. Presumably with their elongated fingernails.
(The camera stops to look at the offending walls, then it changes to look over Henry Williams crouching over a pile of dusty looking rocks.)
Here, is what some historians believe could be the dining area, as you can clearly see the lack of remnants present indicate that the troll occupant failed to capture food to sustain its form.
Therefore it must have moved on, we can estimate that this place has been alone and unused for approximately one and half thousand years.
(He picks up several rocky, then flinches as slimey muscous comes with it.)
Ugh... yes, you can see this was how it tried to carve its name, using these primitive tools and what appears to be bile. From what I can see this creature managed a word, it's a bit mushed up but I'll try and decipher its meaning;
"L-ORTT"
The first indications of a troll's preying tactic. Unlike most predators using stealth, the Troll instead preferred to hide in his dwelling, carving scrapings into being as to be used as pseudonyms. So that they might attempt to converse their prey into a false sense of security. Wait a moment, there appears to be other words down here...
(The camera angle focusses on the dusty covered words; "I
AM NOTT A L-ORTT, HONEST")
Clearly this action failed and so the creature had to move on. However in its place with the end of all mythical creatures passing into story to be taken up by Tolkien and the like, the troll has returned to walk into the twenty-first century...
CUT TO:
(Henry Williams walking into a Cyber-cafe.)
This is a Cyber-cafe, a cafe, diner or coffee shop with an attached cache of computers linked to the information superhighway commonly known as the internet. These people, surfing the net are conversing, though not in a vocal capacity but with their hands.
(He crosses behind someone typing at a screen, the Camera looks at them and then at the screen.)
These people are communicating with others, not just adjacent to themselves but to other people across the globe. It is a communal of intellectual meeting, the socialising event that links us to the great majority that is the human race! But what does this have to do with trolls.. you may well ask?
(CUT TO: A darkly-lit room, curtains are drawn.)
This is, believe it or not the modern-day equivalent of a troll den. Already there is the smell, foul creeping into the lungs, the room is dark because light can conflict with these beings. Not unlike the same condition of severe light sensitivity, these beings follow suit, for them light is a reminder of the outside world- it is dull, dreary whilst online, on the internet he can be anything...
(Cut to: a shadowy form leering before a computer monitor, slimey hands cross the keyboard.)
This individual is using technology, of course anyone can use it,
an evolutionary leap for the trolls. This person is in everything but biologically a troll. Already waiting on a potential trap for a hapless victim to pounce upon. A messageboard for intelligent persons communicating.
(CUT TO: Cyber-cafe)
Here, these people are being constantly leered at, insulted and jested by the very same individual and just like the cave dweller fifteen hundred years before him, he is failing. This generation of persons are wary, recognising the tell-tale signs that Trollo Sapien employs.
Getting things wrong when attempting to imitate another person's identity or adding sarcastic commentary to other people's lives. As you can find yourselves asking- why do they do it?
(CUT TO: Climbing the stairs to a large wooden-panelled door.)
It is widely believed that their singular purpose is a contradiction in terms resulting with a catch 22 situation; they appear with the sole intention of causing havoc on a messageboard that that they have no reason to appear on.
These troll descendants have abolished simple clubs and have
acquired new arsenal in their "work". There and this is a known fact- no weapon that can be used that will disuade a troll from its action. It was however easier several thousand years ago when the use of fire or a mob brandishing bars of soap could be deployed to hunt down the beast until daylight whereupon nature would take its course...
(He emerges into a room, a pottery room where he stops before a clay sculpture of a beast- set and dry the rays of light touching its form.)
And they would turn into stone statues forever. However this brand of trolls cannot so easily be swayed. Violent verbal abuse cannot be used, no threat or insults only fuel the furnaces of these egos. Instead and this might sound very stupid but- if you see one, ignore it. The logic is cribbed off Douglas Adams Bug blatter beast of Trall but the principal is just the same.
(Cut to: The museum- waxworks- Henry Williams standing before the "ferocious-looking" troll statue.)
If you cannot see the troll then it cannot see you. Effectively there is no troll statue behind me, it might stand there but I have chosen to ignore it. Perhaps this is the new soap- ignorance is bliss- so when you're walking along; through the woods, over a bridge or just surfing the net- always keep soap handy!
(Holds aloft a bar of soap!)
You never know when you'll need to use it again!
(Closes eyes, puts a hand over his eyes and then sneaks past the statue slowly. Focus camera on the troll's face for a second then... its eyes glow red!!!)
Subtitle: Doctor Henry Williams.
I am Henry Williams and I am here to discuss the darker sides of human nature, the beasts of mankind's dark dreams- "trolls", yes that might sound like a history of a creature that would usually be found under a bridge in a child's fairytale but that would be wrong. Trolls have been a part of human culture for approximately a long time, possibly several thousand years.
Creatures sub-categorised as goblins and hobgoblins have been known to follow the examples of these hideous creatures, however one thing has always remained whether they have been found in "The Three Billy-Goat gruffs" or digitally rendered in the Lord of the Rings' films. Trolls are fundamentally stupid creatures, a lumbering hunter brandishing a club usually with a dazed expression upon their faces. They are know for hiding, lying in wait much like the trapdoor spider.
(Cut To: a dramatisation of three goats crossing a rickety bridge wobbling in the breeze when from its underside there crawls a creature looking remarkably like the statue- an actor wearing prosthetics and make up. The first goat backs off, the troll wearing a hood swings its club, growling...)
These lumbering creatures may collapse into moments of hibernation whilst awaiting a potential prey or even rarer still- a mate. There is one certainty though; that there are only male trolls- no, no that sounds a bit harsh and chauvinistic but this is the case. A troll usually cares not about its own appearance; it's widely believed that these creatures attempted to mould their forms to match the terrain so that they could continue their hunt.
(Suddenly a stock-used animal roar resounding through a cavernous darkness. Squelching of the underfoot, a torch is brandished revealling Henry Williams looking to the camera.)
I'm standing now in a long abandoned troll dwelling some many feet below the surface, lets go in.
(He walks in slowly, the torchbeam wandering over the rancid blistered walls, dripping from the ceiling.)
The first thing you notice is the smell, it creeps over your nostrils and down into your lungs making one feel very sickly. Just as I am but needs must to uncover the truth. This cavern, this dwelling appears to be composed of a crude mud-like substance pasted against the sides of the wall, there appears to be a roughness, many clumps uneven, so as you can see they had no use for tools using only their basic hands to smear the mud into a wall. Presumably with their elongated fingernails.
(The camera stops to look at the offending walls, then it changes to look over Henry Williams crouching over a pile of dusty looking rocks.)
Here, is what some historians believe could be the dining area, as you can clearly see the lack of remnants present indicate that the troll occupant failed to capture food to sustain its form.
Therefore it must have moved on, we can estimate that this place has been alone and unused for approximately one and half thousand years.
(He picks up several rocky, then flinches as slimey muscous comes with it.)
Ugh... yes, you can see this was how it tried to carve its name, using these primitive tools and what appears to be bile. From what I can see this creature managed a word, it's a bit mushed up but I'll try and decipher its meaning;
"L-ORTT"
The first indications of a troll's preying tactic. Unlike most predators using stealth, the Troll instead preferred to hide in his dwelling, carving scrapings into being as to be used as pseudonyms. So that they might attempt to converse their prey into a false sense of security. Wait a moment, there appears to be other words down here...
(The camera angle focusses on the dusty covered words; "I
AM NOTT A L-ORTT, HONEST")
Clearly this action failed and so the creature had to move on. However in its place with the end of all mythical creatures passing into story to be taken up by Tolkien and the like, the troll has returned to walk into the twenty-first century...
CUT TO:
(Henry Williams walking into a Cyber-cafe.)
This is a Cyber-cafe, a cafe, diner or coffee shop with an attached cache of computers linked to the information superhighway commonly known as the internet. These people, surfing the net are conversing, though not in a vocal capacity but with their hands.
(He crosses behind someone typing at a screen, the Camera looks at them and then at the screen.)
These people are communicating with others, not just adjacent to themselves but to other people across the globe. It is a communal of intellectual meeting, the socialising event that links us to the great majority that is the human race! But what does this have to do with trolls.. you may well ask?
(CUT TO: A darkly-lit room, curtains are drawn.)
This is, believe it or not the modern-day equivalent of a troll den. Already there is the smell, foul creeping into the lungs, the room is dark because light can conflict with these beings. Not unlike the same condition of severe light sensitivity, these beings follow suit, for them light is a reminder of the outside world- it is dull, dreary whilst online, on the internet he can be anything...
(Cut to: a shadowy form leering before a computer monitor, slimey hands cross the keyboard.)
This individual is using technology, of course anyone can use it,
an evolutionary leap for the trolls. This person is in everything but biologically a troll. Already waiting on a potential trap for a hapless victim to pounce upon. A messageboard for intelligent persons communicating.
(CUT TO: Cyber-cafe)
Here, these people are being constantly leered at, insulted and jested by the very same individual and just like the cave dweller fifteen hundred years before him, he is failing. This generation of persons are wary, recognising the tell-tale signs that Trollo Sapien employs.
Getting things wrong when attempting to imitate another person's identity or adding sarcastic commentary to other people's lives. As you can find yourselves asking- why do they do it?
(CUT TO: Climbing the stairs to a large wooden-panelled door.)
It is widely believed that their singular purpose is a contradiction in terms resulting with a catch 22 situation; they appear with the sole intention of causing havoc on a messageboard that that they have no reason to appear on.
These troll descendants have abolished simple clubs and have
acquired new arsenal in their "work". There and this is a known fact- no weapon that can be used that will disuade a troll from its action. It was however easier several thousand years ago when the use of fire or a mob brandishing bars of soap could be deployed to hunt down the beast until daylight whereupon nature would take its course...
(He emerges into a room, a pottery room where he stops before a clay sculpture of a beast- set and dry the rays of light touching its form.)
And they would turn into stone statues forever. However this brand of trolls cannot so easily be swayed. Violent verbal abuse cannot be used, no threat or insults only fuel the furnaces of these egos. Instead and this might sound very stupid but- if you see one, ignore it. The logic is cribbed off Douglas Adams Bug blatter beast of Trall but the principal is just the same.
(Cut to: The museum- waxworks- Henry Williams standing before the "ferocious-looking" troll statue.)
If you cannot see the troll then it cannot see you. Effectively there is no troll statue behind me, it might stand there but I have chosen to ignore it. Perhaps this is the new soap- ignorance is bliss- so when you're walking along; through the woods, over a bridge or just surfing the net- always keep soap handy!
(Holds aloft a bar of soap!)
You never know when you'll need to use it again!
(Closes eyes, puts a hand over his eyes and then sneaks past the statue slowly. Focus camera on the troll's face for a second then... its eyes glow red!!!)
