Some People

February 4th, 2010


There are some folks who just are NOT interested in the moving image. They must be all about the web or chocolate or sex or their butts or lubeOilFilter, because when I talk to them and say, “I was on this or that TV show,” or “I worked on this or that film,” they don’t even respond. Not even, “How cool,” or “How’d you get that gig?”


It’s like:

Me: A film in which I played a crook got into the Sundance Film Fest.

Friend: My cat got a new collar.

Hummmm, yeah, alrighty, then.

purple cat

Directors

January 31st, 2010


By-the-book directors yell, “Action,” even if there isn’t much action in the scene, even if it’s a contemplative scene, or a love scene, or a quiet conversation, or just an ECU of a reaction.

The more sensitive directors, respectful of the actor’s instrument, say, “When you’re ready.”

Cat Shit Attitude

January 27th, 2010


You know how your dog eats cat “candies” out of the litter box and then gets Cat Shit Breath?

Well, today I have Cat Shit Attitude.

So, I thought I’d re-publish this column from last year which sums up how I have been feeling this month.


Some people say you don’t have to be a depressed, starving artist.  You don’t have to suffer.  You don’t have to cut off your ear or live in a garret or die of syphilis contracted while having obligatory sex with your patron.   You don’t have to drink yourself to death or drug yourself to death.  You don’t have to be tortured by demons that pierce your eyes, entering your brain, causing confusion and compelling you to paint microscopic landscapes on lima beans.

These commentators say the creative spirit can flourish in happy times.  They tell us the creative spirit can exist in a well-balanced human: centered, grounded, cheery, sociable, fulfilled.  First chakra in harmony.  The bottom 5 rungs of Maslow’s hierarchy solidified.  Financially stable.

So they claim.

These cheerleaders for artists write happy self-help books and make lots of money lecturing on how to be a happy artist.  How to overcome your own inner blocks.  How to re-write the movies in your mind.

The people who make these pronouncements are overly medicated.

They take too much Prozac.

They are not in touch with reality.

In high probability, anyone who espouses the happy artist theory is nuts.  They could possibly be right, but…

…but…

…but I must say to you that since I have gotten breast cancer, uterine cancer, a life-threatening breathing disorder, cataracts, a huge (expensive) abscess in my jaw…all this without health insurance; and since I  filed for bankruptcy, my house went into foreclosure, my unemployment benefits ran out after being out of work for 36 months…

…I sure have been doing a heck of a lot of creative writing!

Producing, Oy Vey

January 23rd, 2010

A series of phone conversations with two friends.  Druide is producing her first independent short (a 3-minute teaser with a $3000 budget) in a small city and Anil is producing a celebrity benefit concert extravaganza (probably will cost $800,000 to produce) with Hollywood folks.

Druide is two weeks away from her shoot date.  Being a melancholy type (in her script, all the lead characters die at the end) she started with the depressing news.  She’s worried sick that prep is such a bumpy road. She’s depressed.  She’s up all night with stomach pains.

  • The director has not spoken to her all week.
  • The Production Designer quit.
  • She has no AD.
  • The sound “department,” which consists of one guy, might not be able to make the dates because his wife wants him to get a paying job.
  • There is not one Makeup in town who wants to work for nothing that week.
  • The caterer has no car.
  • The extras coordinator has not been able to find anybody to play dozens of Chinese engineers.
  • The office building is not pretty.
  • The Mayor’s Film Office wants to limit the shoot at City Hall to 1 hour; though the line producer said it would take at least 4 hours.
  • The video game parlor changed ownership yesterday (!!!) and the new owner doesn’t know
    from a hole in the ground and doesn’t want to have a film crew in his place of business.
  • She might not have a gaffer and she damn sure doesn’t have enough lights.
  • The lovely mountain location is too far away. Gas=money=time=more logistics=might not be able to do it.

Lastly she sobs, “I am too fat.”


Anil, by contrast, is an ever-perpetual-bubbling brook of optimism.  He has a year before the concert date.  He starts the conversation with his list of wonderful stuff.

  • Whoopi Goldberg has agreed to host
  • Bruce Springsteen will play and donate his fee to the benefit
  • Bon Jovi ditto
  • The Philadelphia Eagles will donate the use of their stadium
  • Bob Dylan’s son will produce PSAs for the event
  • The White House wants to be involved because they love the idea of doing something good for kids
  • One of the PR firms that worked on the Obama campaign will run the advertising

Wow, Anil, I’m bowled over by your reach and influence!  Way to go, dude!


Later in the week, Druide has bucked up.  She calls to exult that her project now is in great shape.

  • She has a fabulous composer who will work for “credit”
  • She got a critical location, an office building, that will let them not only shoot an indie film, but one with a herd of dwarf goats roaming the office building.
  • She has a caterer who will bring a full steam table on set every day and cook Thai, vegan, Moroccan, seafood and CHOCOLATE gourmet, served on linen napkins and Waterford.  Druide only has to pay for the raw food cost.
  • She has the best extras wrangler in town who has obtained geeky-looking Chinese engineers in large quantities.
  • A police officer volunteered to be the on-set armorer, will bring his own shotgun and will train the actors and the camera crew about safety before the shoot.
  • She found an AD.
  • The most sought-after theater costume designer in town has nothing scheduled for the next 2 weeks and wants to get into film; she will work for the experience.
  • Another great location fell into place, thanks to a theater director slash actor slash juggler slash screenwriter sneaking the production into his kid’s schoolyard.
  • The Mayor’s Film Office relented on City Hall and will let her shoot for 4 hours.
  • The Land Conservancy offered to let the production use their lovely property in the mountains; so she only has to move the crew 20 miles instead of 140.


Druide shot her short and-although it took 5 months-got it edited and released on streaming sites.

Around the time I saw the final cut of Druide’s film, I spoke to Anil.

  • He doesn’t really have a cause, an organization, a recipient of the benefit from the benefit concert. He just has a vague idea that he wants to help kids.
  • There was a huge fight about the first donation that came in. Several people wanted to be paid for their efforts to date. Some of them quit. Some of them don’t even speak to Anil any more.
  • Anil was invited, on the strength of this concert effort, to speak at various conferences; and he accepted every invitation to the detriment of further fundraising. To date, the first donation is the only donation.
  • He has no written plans, no interim targets, no deliverables assigned to individuals, for what needs to be done by when.
  • The only person Anil had on the team who had produced a concert of this magnitude quit, citing “incompetence.”
  • None of the talent will promote the concert on their respective web pages because it’s so disorganized.
  • No additional talent has signed on.
  • Three different PR firms either were fired or quit. With 4 months to go, there has been no buzz about this event.

Is there a lesson in this tale?  Nope.  It’s just interesting.

Restrictions

January 19th, 2010

Phoenix

Sometimes restrictions are just falsely restricting.  Maybe that’s why spoken word artists want to break free of rhyme and meter and go with other forms of tonal beauty-alliteration, onomatopoeia, beat, the visual aspects of the performance.

Something you can get very formal and it can become an exercise in structure rather than meaning.

Like my resistance to being given line readings, PARTICULARLY by Shakespeare’s supposed punctuation.

But I found something interesting when I examined how Twitter be used as  a new artistic format/medium.  Twitter sang to me.  The song was, “HAIKU.”   In addition to the haiku restriction of 17 syllables in 3 phrases of 5-7-5, there is also the additional Twitter restriction of 140 characters.  For some reason, it exploded my creativity.  In one night I wrote over 200 of them haikus, many of them good.

Maybe this is masturbatory.  Maybe everybody blogs about the nature of creativity and nobody is interested and it’s boring.

Sometimes structure IS the meaning.  Lack of structure, that is.  A la Rhinoceros, The Chairs.  Def Poets?

There is something about restriction/repression.


Everyone Wants a Piece of Me

January 15th, 2010

An entertainment lawyer hooked me up with a film sales agent who handles Europe.  The sales agent read my treatment and said he could sell it into distribution overseas.   He could even give me pre-sales numbers to show my investors.  It’s important to show potential investors some indication that your film will actually sell.


I looked him up: he seems moderately legit.  Teaches the business of film at a University.  Has worked for a major studio.  Has his name attached as producer to a half-dozen films, but i couldn’t find revenue numbers on any of them.  It seemed strange to me that he would say he could sell my film into overseas territories  based solely on the treatment.  Asked him what the commission arrangement would be.  He didn’t answer.  Several phone calls and email exchanges later, he writes to say that my biz plan needs a lot of work and he can help me fix it up for a consulting fee.

“Okay, leave aside the biz plan for a moment; i already have a business advisor.  What would the commission arrangement be if you sold this into foreign distribution?”

“I can help you rewrite your business plan, get attachments, guarantee distribution, give you sales estimates, do the distribution, help you rewrite the script to attract my buyers…for a consulting fee.”

Okay, we’ll see.  Can’t think about that now; my head is exploding.


Co-Producers of the Indie Persuasion

January 11th, 2010

After the read-through,it’s clear that Act 2 is too long and by Act 3 the protag hasn’t taken enough of a journey.


I try to get my co-writer/co-producer to work on the rewrite.


“When can we rewrite?”


“I’m in Poopoo’s film; I’m in Doodoo’s film; I’m acting in the 24 hour film challenge; I’m trying to get cast in the 48 hour play challenge; I’m auditioning for Coocoo’s film; I’m in a film in (goddam far away) Portland; I’m trying to get cast in the 36 hour film challenge and the 72 hour theater challenge and by the way I’m cast in the Stupid Let’s Make a Home Movie Film Film, Stupid Film and I’m doing three play readings and directing a comedy sketch for Booboo.”


“Okay, how about on a weeknight, then?”

“Oh, I’m writing a short.  Oh, I’m writing another short.  Oh, I’m shooting my short.  Can you (me) be the casting director for my short?”

Me: “When can we work on Act 2?  I want to finish re-writing this feature so we actually have a shot at distribution. Shorts are a money-suck.”

“Oh, by the way, I’m done shooting my short.”

“When can we rewrite?”

“Weekends are family time and weeknights I take all sorts of acting classes.  Can you come to my house on a weekday?”

“No!  I have a fucking day job and did you forget that my car was stolen?”

“Okay, how about Sunday for an hour?  I really appreciate your patience and you doing all the re-writing while I’m so busy.”

Sunday, i show up, pencil and yellow sticky-notes.

“Let’s go to Froufrou’s audition.”

“No, I’m begging you: let’s rewrite.”

“I am going to Froufrou’s audition; you can do what you want.”

So, six months later, I demanded either real participation in the rewriting and producing of this film or dropping out therefrom.

“It’s not fair for me to spend 40-50 hours a week on this film and you spend none and you are supposed to be the co-lazy-writer, co-do-nothing-producer and co-diva-star.”

My Co-Co-Co chose to drop out.  Too much work to do something professionally…like actually FINISH a 120 page screenplay.


You take the short road.


Shorts are easy–you pay for them yourself.  No high standards are required. Shorts get put on a compilation DVD and you tell everyone you got “distribution.”


Features are hard.  They suck duck’s eggs.  They suck billiard balls.  I love feature films and I want to make real films, so I struggle on.

Meanwhile, I get lots of fun bitching about co-producers.

Curating as Art

January 7th, 2010

What artists of various types do, as they post collections of links on FaceBook, is CURATING. A new type of curating. I see the collection of your posts as a curated show, reflecting your taste in art.

My Favorite Lines from Films Both Good and Bad

January 3rd, 2010


1. Doody!

2. I projected myself to the end of my life in some vague rendition of my old man self.  I imagined looking back with a tremendous hole of regret in my heart.

3. Nobody calls Dugan a turd.

4. — she’s my daughter. — she’s my sister —- she’s my daughter. — my sister. My daughter, my sister –She’s my sister and my daughter!

5. Let me just ask you a serious question first.  Aren’t you worried you could die a virgin?

  • Yeah. I’m extremely worried about that. It’s right up there with global warming.

6. Now don’t you understand that if Bonnie comes home and finds a dead body in her house, I’m gonna get divorced.  No marriage counselor, no trial separation — fuckin’ divorced.

7. I’ll follow you. I want to see the chimes.

8. Well, I don’t mean to get up on my high horse, but why shouldn’t we look at ourselves up there?  Who cares about the Fifth Earl of Bastrop and Lady Higginbottom and - and - and who killed Nigel Grinch-Gibbons?

9.        I’m not in the mood to see a four-hour documentary on Nazis.

10.   The doorman tells him that she hasn’t worked there for quite a while.  He asks for a cigarette even though he knows smoking is suicide for a man with TB.

11.   He’s not my Dad; he’s my pony.

12.   Nice Beaver.

  • Thanks; I had it stuffed last week.

13.   “Doody”

14.   “Don’t call me Shirley.”

15.   “Dave’s not here.”

16.   “Food fight!”


The Artist Doesn’t Always Know

December 30th, 2009


One of the characteristics of great art is that it can evoke emotions in the viewer of which the artist had no awareness when she created the piece. My friend Stephanie Golino, an amazing playwright, always thinks her pieces are musically & balletically lighthearted; yet I and other audience members often find sadness and separation underneath the gaiety; Stephanie is always surprised at what her viewers see.  In a story of a man whose first love ran off and joined the convent,

Stephanie describes the ending, where the man finds a new satisfying career and the nun is happy, as a feel-good ending.  I sat through all the rehearsals of this show and most of the run, and I cried every time-maybe 97 times I cried.  For I saw the ending being about the most enduring kind of loss: the loss of a first love, with no chance for a sequel, no chance to retrieve the love.