Seemingly confirming that the tyrannical hold of Tim Burton over Johnny Depp works on some kind of Cabinet of Dr. Caligari close-proximity hypnosis basis (Burton’s Frankenweenie, currently in cinemas, is his first film since 2003’s Big Fish not to feature Depp in some capacity), the erstwhile Edward Scissorhands has revealed he is using the time away from his sinister overlord to launch his own publishing imprint with HarperCollins US. Talks are presumably underway on just how much money it would take to 1) retrieve the ashes of Hunter S. Thompson from the atmosphere 2) reconstitute them into some corporeal form that could type, or at least dictate, and 3) lock said ash being into a five book deal.
Sharing an almost painfully Goth name with Depp’s already existent film production company – which bears responsibility for such Depp vehicles as The Rum Diary and Dark Shadows – Infinitum Nihil (translation: Nothing Is Forever) has announced as its first signing no less than Bob Dylan, who, no, still isn’t bringing out Volume Two of Chronicles, but is credited as co-author on The Unraveled Tales of Bob Dylan, based around a series of interviews carried out with Dylan by historian Douglas Brinkley.
Now that they’re totez BFFs, all ending their text messages to each other with kisses and <3s, Dylan and Brinkley will also stick around with Depp long enough to edit House of Earth, a recently discovered novel written by Dylan idol Woody Guthrie in 1947. Has Depp mentioned before that he’s deeply inspired by musicians? I feel like it may have come up one or two or three or four times.
Anyway, Depp also released a statement on the formation of the imprint:
I pledge, on behalf of Infinitum Nihil, that we will do our best to deliver publications worthy of peoples’ time, of peoples’ concern, publications that might ordinarily never have breached the parapet. For this dream realized, we would like to salute HarperCollins for their faith in us and look forward to a long and fruitful relationship together.
Yes, lord knows, it’s not like a book about Bob Dylan would have a chance of breaching the parapet were it not for Johnny Depp.