Then again, said trailer looks more like an ad for Louis XIII cognac, which is a partner in the movie (it also takes 100 years to age the brandy).
Does the movie even exist? Malkovich started opening up about the "terrific, emotionally charged" film to People back in November, so maybe it does. "If you act in a play you never see it," he explained. "I've certainly acted in a lot of movies I've never seen and a number of them I wouldn't particularly be tempted to."
In any case, 1,000 people received invitations to the November 2115 premiere, which they can pass down to their offspring.
It got us thinking about other pieces of pop culture that pique a curiosity that can never be sated, as they're shielded from public view. Here are some of them:
These days we take Leonardo DiCaprio seriously, because he's an Oscar-winning member of the Hollywood elite. Sure he vapes and dates supermodels, but he's also practically killing himself for his art. That wasn't the case back in the mid-1990s when he was filming "Don's Plum," a raunchy, Gen-X response to "Diner." The film takes place during a single night, with DiCaprio and buddies Tobey Maguire, Kevin Connolly and others hanging out at an L.A. dive chatting about masturbation and ridiculing anyone who wanders by. Most of the improvised dialogue made the guys look like the pervy man-children they were at the time, if the infamous 1998 profile of DiCaprio in New York magazine is to be believed. After the film was completed, Maguire and DiCaprio had second thoughts, so they managed to block the movie's release in the United States and Canada.
It premiered abroad, at least — and is no doubt findable with some Internet sleuthing. In January, one of the movie's producers, Dale Wheatley, posted the full movie to the website freedonsplum.com, but after DiCaprio and Maguire got wind of the development, the movie came down.
'The Day the Clown Cried'
If you think "Don's Plum" sounds bad, wait till you hear the premise for the 1972 disaster Jerry Lewis directed and headlined. The comedian played Helmut Doork, a German clown who's overheard by some Nazis denigrating Hitler. His punishment: Go to Auschwitz and lighten the mood for the kids, then escort them into the gas chambers.
Comedian Harry Shearer, one of the few people who has seen the drama, told Spy magazine: "The movie is so drastically wrong, its pathos and comedy so wildly misplaced, that you could not, in your fantasy, improve on what it really is. . . . 'Oh my God!' — that's all you can say."
Lewis realized his misstep and opted not to release it. Some making-of-the-movie footage ended up online a few years ago:
'Once Upon a Time in Shaolin'
Wu-Tang Clan spent six years working on their latest album but made only one copy. In 2015, the group auctioned it off to the highest bidder and made the buyer promise not to profit from it until 2103 — though the person could choose to let people hear it for free.
The winning $2 million bid came from "Pharma Bro" Martin Shkreli, the same guy who jacked up the price of a drug for AIDS-related infections. During an interview with Bloomberg in December, Shkreli indicated that he bought the album so that he could get a chance to meet and hang out with famous people.
As of the article, Shkreli hadn't yet listened to the album, though he said he could be persuaded to if "Taylor Swift wants to hear it or something like that." Of course, since then, Shkreli has had more pressing things to worry about, like charges of securities fraud.
Basically, the good news is it might be possible to hear the music. The bad news is you'd have to hang out with Shkreli.
'Autobiography of Mark Twain'
Anyone can read the writer's three-part memoir now, but the books were only authorized for release 100 years after Twain's death in 1910. Of course, the great self-promoter couldn't bear to keep it entirely under wraps, so some of the stories were published in North American Review even before Twain died.
When the first volume was finally released, in 2010, not everyone thought it was worth the wait. Garrison Keillor wrote in the New York Times that the book was "a ragbag of scraps, some of interest, most of them not."
With the debut of the third volume last year, we at least got some indication why Twain wanted to wait so long: He spent time trashing Teddy Roosevelt and Andrew Carnegie. Even so, the book was "of a piece with the other two," Dennis Drabelle wrote for The Washington Post, "rambling; charming; vitriolic; confessional ('I am fond of pomp and display'); shot through with wit, lyricism and regret."
Margaret Atwood's latest book
Atwood is also waiting a century to release a novel, and she's not alone. In 2114, the Future Library will be open for business, revealing never-before-read manuscripts from 100 writers. Each year between now and then, another author will contribute work.
Atwood's agreement to be the inaugural donor must have given an eccentric idea some credibility, as "Cloud Atlas" writer David Mitchell signed on to be the second annual contributor.
A really, really, really long piece of music
You can listen to Jem Finer's appropriately titled "Longplayer" now at a few listening posts around the globe, but you won't be able to hear all of it. That's because the piece is 1,000 years long, so it won't be available to download until the year 3000.
The composition, performed using Tibetan singing bowls and gongs, started on Jan. 1, 2000, and uses an algorithm to find new variations on a 20-minute theme. If that sounds intriguing, well, you've got plenty of time to seek it out.