Rarely do you see two polar opposite groups of people embrace one particular thing and claim it as their own … unless that object of worship is none other than Superman. Superman, like the rainbow, apparently is an icon to both homosexuals and Christians. I don’t know whether to laugh or shake my head in bewilderment over this one, though the notion of Superman being a Christ figure or a gay icon is somewhat understandable. That these two groups can latch onto him so easily says tons about us, too.The thing that brought this issue into the limelight was “Superman Returns,“ the movie Bryan Singer doomed the “X-Men“ franchise to make. And even though the trailers looked about as boring as a current Superman comic book, people almost immediately began making bold statements about homosexual icons and Christ symbolism. Did Singer or the studio intentionally market the film that way? Did they plant stories about it? I don’t know, but I do know that if there is one thing Hollywood does well it is marketing. Any film that’s got Superman in it will appeal to an audience beyond comic book readers, but the gay and Christian markets are not a guaranteed sell with this or any other comic book character, so a great way to secure their dollars would be to plant these types of stories. But let’s assume these groups really felt this way. What does that mean, and why is it important?

It’s odd that the assertions these two groups made are never really talked about on a mass scale when it comes to the comic book. Sure, there have been people tossing out similar theories for years, but the mainstream media never really invested much time into it (and nor had comicdom, for that matter). As soon as the movie hit, though, the media was all over the story, with the Associated Press (AP) putting out a particularly lengthy (for AP) piece that tried to cover all the bases. Why? Because people treat movies as something that are larger than life. They legitimize people, ideas and places. Combine the overwhelming influence of film with the one of the most recognizable figures in the modern world and the story almost writes itself.

Some people look at Superman as a Christ figure. Some homosexuals view him as a symbol of what it means to have a dual identity. Oddly enough, there are other superheroes out there who are far more spiritual (Daredevil is a Catholic, for those who don’t know), and while almost every hero has a secret identity, homosexuals never seem to flock to characters who truly are gay, like Northstar of Alpha Flight. No, these groups latch onto Superman because he’s something everyone recognizes, and — and this is the important one — he’s on film. (“Daredevil“ was a movie, too, but let’s be realistic. That character does not enjoy the same status as the blue boy scout, though he is a far more complex and dynamic hero.) So are these groups wrong in identifying with Superman? No, and the reason why is fairly simple.

Superman can represent Christ just as easily as he can symbolize homosexuality. He can be a projection of our ideal selves. He can be seen as an idealistic version of America that tops even Captain America in its symbolic power. He can also be a comic book character/marketing tool that is used to sell everything from milk to toys. He can actually be almost anything we desire to mold him into, and that’s what makes him an icon.

Symbolically gay or not. Christ-like or not. It doesn’t matter. Superman is huge. Movies are huge. And people are so desperate to find some kind of validity for their lives in fictions that they go out of their way to make the pieces fit. It makes them feel more real. That’s the power of icons, and that’s the power of movies. You can argue against them all you want, but like Superman, they are pretty much indestructible. That said, even though all these groups are quick to identify with the comic book hero, nobody seems to be doing more than scratching the surface because anything else is just too hard to deal with.

If we want to relate to Superman, let’s not look at his identity to justify our own. Instead, let’s do the one thing none of these groups have mentioned, but that which is key to the Superman myth. Let’s let him inspire us to actively try to prevent wrongs in the world — no matter who is behind them. Let’s make a difference for once, and instead of paying lip service to a myth, make the myth real in the only way one can — through actions.

See the movie. Read the comics. Buy the underwear. Just don’t try to make the square pegs fit the round holes unless you’re willing to do some work to make the pieces fit right. Doing any less is just ridiculous, and even a mental midget like Bizarro can see through that.

Bookmark to:
     

3 Comments »

While “Saturday Night Live” crawls on like the injured Chihuahua you’re about to run over the second time with your jeep, it’s spawned two new shows simultaneously spoofing and surpassing its original source in laughs.

Now, I enjoyed “Saturday Night Live” as a child, but when the new cast came on, we were given Horatio Sanz, Jimmy Fallon, and Fred Armisen. And now you know the rest of horrifying story.

Anyway, if you read Mr. Aronsky’s entry, he’s pretty much had it with Sorkin, and “Studio 60″ after giving it a fair shot. I on the other hand have viewed its sister “30 Rock” with optimism, patience, and my work is paying off to what is gradually becoming a funny show that will likely be cancelled, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Usually, when a show fails to keep me watching for four episodes, I drop it, and I hold no remorse, but like “Saturday Night Live,” I keep going back to it, hoping it gets better, and slowly the people at “30 Rock” are paying me off. SNL hasn’t.

After “The Girly Show” is past its prime, NBC hires a new executive to re-tool the show into a vehicle for a famous black comedian named Tracy Jordan played by the always unfunny Tracy Morgan. Morgan who denies it, is pretty much a Martin Lawrence spoof, and he’s never as funny as a talented comedian could be in his shoes.

I’ve found much of the interesting characters are with Fey, Baldwin, and Friedlander. Fey’s brainy but sexy vibe is palpable, and Fey’s talent for charm and comedy make her a new age Mary Tyler Moore. However I am also enjoying “Conan” castaway Jack McBrayer as the cheery tour guide Kenneth who ends up becoming much more of a threat at poker than everyone else realizes in the latest episode.

Featured also is an often uneven performance by the always scrumptious Jane Krakowski as the bubbly blond lead actress Jenna DeCarlo for “The Girly Show” who is pushed aside after Jordan comes on to claim the show.

Through its caveats, and failed gags, though, “30 Rock” can manage to hit when it wants to. Take for example the most recent episode, where the group engages in poker with Baldwin’s character Jack who insinuates himself in their weekly ritual, and Fey’s character Liz is set up with another woman by Jack who is convinced she’s a lesbian.

Though the episode did go on too long with Liz’s choking scenario (Just like SNLer’s to milk a funny joke until you’re begging for it to end), the entire episode had its share of sharp one-liners, and top notch acting.

In one scene, the always funny Judah Freidlander remarks:
“Are you sure you’re not gay? Because that chick is hot.”

To which Fey remarks:
“We’re just friends like Oprah and Gale.”

Granted, the show is very much a hit and miss affair. When the dialogue falls flat, it’s rather mediocre to painful to watch, because you can feel the writers trying to pull themselves out of water, but when the dialogue hits, it’s hysterical.

And Alec Baldwin, God bless you. If I believed in a god I’d pray for you to stick with “30 Rock,” and continue saving it from drowning in a muck of sub-par gags. Your husky wit, and shameless humor as a sort of Blake from “Glenngary Glenn Ross” who seemed to have lost his mind, is memorable.

As many people know, Baldwin, a constant guest on SNL, has graced audiences with his presence as a foil to the group of 30 Rock as this constant zany menace. He’s cold and calculating, is always one step ahead of Liz, and is so utterly eccentric and funny. The rivalry between Fey and Baldwin is engrossing.

You save this show, you steal scenes, and you chew the scenery with your deadpan delivery:
Mr. Donaghy: She said you looked like Jennifer Jason Leigh.
Liz: Really?
Mr. Donaghy: Yes, I asked her to repeat it because I thought she meant Jason Lee.

If not for your casting, mark my words, I’d have dropped this show at the pilot. Someone give Baldwin an Emmy, now and get it over with.

“30 Rock” is paying off slowly, but we’ll see if NBC gives it the axe soon. What with the pull Michaels has, I doubt this show will be off any time soon. I mean, if they can keep SNL on for such a long time, why not a funny show like “30 Rock”?

Bookmark to:
     

1 Comment »

So, I sat down at my computer chair, and stared at the blank screen. Normally, about this time, I go off on film websites, and try to find a topic. It usually comes to me at the last minute, and nine times out of ten stuff just pours out on the screen. But that night, it was that one time out of ten.

Nothing came to me. Nothing. For at least an hour, through the brainstorming, and scouring my room like Ray Bradbury at the opening of “Ray Bradbury Theater” when he’s gazing at his room of trinkets, and useless crap for inspiration. But alas, I’m not Ray Bradbury, and the stacks of magazines, and DVDs in my room weren’t screaming “inspiration” at that moment.

So I stopped trying and went off to read. Reading usually helps.

And suddenly it came to me twenty minutes later, like a ton of bricks. After I finished going to the bathroom, I decided to take another whack at the entry, and voila.

Thoughts of all sorts, thoughts that I felt warranted writing down were pouring out. Some controversial, some admittedly stupid, and some confusing. So, enjoy fair reader, and don’t be afraid to offer your own.

Why do people like “The Office”? I just don’t get it. It’s such a flat and mediocre cousin to the original. I mean, there’s rarely anything laugh out loud funny about it, and I just couldn’t understand why people went all orgasmic over Jim and Pam kissing. And now, the show’s been turned into a sitcom. No one looks at the camera anymore, we’re given more sweet moments than funny ones, there’s no sense of discomfort or awkwardness, and we don’t get the sense of monotony with this one. Why do people like it? It’s so unfunny and forced. Granted, I really enjoy Krasinski, Fischer, and Carrell, but they should be in better projects.

Why do people like “Last House on the Left”? Granted, it was an okay film, but not all what I’d heard of. Even then Wes Craven was afraid to show the blunt force of violence, and carnage. And that’s evident by the comedy relief throughout the film. We receive moments of merciless rage, and torture interrupted by two buffoons of cops stranded on a road, and THIS is the hardcore movie I’d heard of all these years? So disappointing.

I don’t know which commercials are worse, the “Gellin’” commercials, or the Geico commercials involving the celebrities. Who thought having Mini Me rapping beside a Hispanic man would be funny? I’m not laughing!

Why are movies about magicians popular all of a sudden? Was David Blaine correct? Will magicians rule the world by dumbfounding audiences with disappearing thumbs, and coins that appear from our ears as if from nowhere?

Why do people like “The Omen” remake? Are people that stupid? It’s a shot for shot remake, and people say this one is better but whenever it’s pointed out that saying the remake is better is essentially saying the original is good since they’re shot for shot, they basically just shrug it off never realizing how lame brained they sound. I mean, is Hollywood right? Are movie audiences as dumb as door nails?

Why did “Youtube” have to die? It’s like we had a video store of trinkets and treasures, and videos you’d never find on any normal shelf, and now it’s turning into Wal-Mart. Videos are being deleted, Google is taking over the internet, and now we’ll have safe videos of cats attacking babies, David Hasselhoff singing “Disco Duck,” and old women falling down stairs. And possibly be forced to pay to post, and or watch videos. That’s so depressing.

Why did “Runaway” have to get cancelled? I mean granted, the show probably wasn’t that good anyway, but Donnie Wahlberg needs the work, damn it. What’s he to do now? The last good role he had was in “Saw 2.” So, now what? Will he persuade Mark into starring alongside him in a cop movie? Why is life unfair?

Do you know they took away Habeas Corpus? Just throwing that out there.

Why does Hilary Duff look like a creepy clone of her sister now? Is she having facial reconstruction surgery to resemble her big sister? Is that what rich people do to emulate one another, or just the Duffs? Did they force her to look older, or is Haylie forcing all her family members to look like her? Did Duff die, and her sister rebuilt her from her DNA, and parts of her own?

I prefer David Tennant as Doctor Who over Christopher Eccleston. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge fan of Eccleston and his acting ability is unquestionable, but Tennant looks like he’s having a damn good time playing the doctor as this whacky, eccentric, zany, but utterly dashing fellow, unlike Eccleston who seemed just slightly ditzy and giddy. But, then again, I’d be giddy too if I was in a phone booth with Billy Piper all the time.

I find the more films I watch with Hope Davis, the more I’m madly in love with her. She is beyond gorgeous. And sexy as hell. It’s wild how this woman never leaked onto newspapers and men magazines. Nah, it’s a good thing she never did.

Why another “Santa Clause” movie? The first was so sweet, the second was a paycheck, so why do we need another one with Martin Short? And why does he look like a speed freak stalwart from an experimental off-Broadway show in the Village?

I have this wonderful dream where Shawnee Smith has me trapped in one of her devices in a “Saw” scenario, and the only way I can leave is if I pick cherries off her naked body with my lips while she counts down in her sexy Southern drawl. Most times I usually win, and she enjoys it. I need a cold shower, now.

Bookmark to:
     

3 Comments »

Dear Aaron,

I think I’ve been faithful enough to your two most distinguished achievements in television history to refer to you by your first name, and I’m sure that’s ok.

I was struck still and stunned by the first episode of “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip.” Judd Hirsch’s rant, the tension in the control room, trying to regroup the show-within-a-show so that it could continue on; I loved all of that and wanted to see more without having to wait until the following week. Heck, when Netflix and NBC jointly made the first episode available on DVD six weeks before it aired, I had that at the top of my queue the day before it was set for release to Netflix customers and watched it at least five times. I wanted to know more about these characters, I wanted to find out what lives they lived off the air.

I got that same exuberant feeling with “The West Wing.” Even when the start of season five saw John Wells assume command of the show, I still watched, with the hope that some of your spark remained. The show didn’t improve until late in that season when Glenn Close and William Fichtner guest-starred as two potential Supreme Court justice nominees, and that was only because writer Debora Cahn obviously had you as a teacher, but could also add her own zesty style to dialogue and storytelling, and it also helped that one of my favorite “West Wing” directors, Jessica Yu (responsible for one of my all-time favorite episodes, “Somebody’s Going to Emergency, Somebody’s Going to Jail,” from the second season) added her own artistic contributions.

But you see Aaron, that’s why “The West Wing” succeeded like it did. Yes you were at the head of the show, but just like “The American President,” other people were in charge, wanting the same vision you did, and adding their own talents to the process. It wasn’t just you. It was Rob Reiner and the last good movie he’d ever make. It was Michael Douglas getting into your dialogue, even to the point of seeming genuinely amused at what he got the chance to say. It was Martin Sheen, who obviously grasped your style enough and carried it over to “The West Wing” years later with the same grace and respect as President Jed Bartlet. And the actors on that show, from Rob Lowe, Bradley Whitford, Allison Janney, Richard Schiff, all the way to Kathryn Joosten as Mrs. Landingham and even Jorja Fox before she went to “CSI”, they all got what you were doing and they wanted to help make it even better. Without these actors, without the people who worked with you, your words were nothing more than black marks on sheets of paper.

And when I watched that first episode of “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip,” I got the impression that you were going to do the same with this cast. I saw nothing of Josh Lyman in Bradley Whitford’s performance as Danny Tripp and I liked that. I loved Matthew Perry’s approach to comedy in Matt Albie, which is sorely lacking at this point. I was glad to see Sarah Paulson, who finally got her chance to be good on last week’s episode, “The Long Lead Story,” where she told her life’s story to a reporter (guest star Christine Lahti), and there were such tones, such quiet, heartfelt moments. Finally, a character! A well-written character!

But I can’t watch any longer, sir. Not with what’s happened tonight, not with how you continue with your smug writing, continually referencing yourself, demanding that everyone see how great you are and bow down eternally. That young playwright who gave NBS the rights to his script “Nations”? That young playwright is you and “Nations” is a thinly-disguised reference to “The West Wing.” And all your talk about words. Dangling modifier joke? Yes, we get it. You have a full, knowledgeable grasp of the English language. I respect you even more for it because I sure as hell can’t write all that good anyway. I have no sense of grammar, I have no knowledge of writers past and present, I don’t even know if my writing has any particular style.

And then, to cover bad black comedians, a senile old men who just happened to have been associated at one time with the studio that “Studio 60″ is produced in, and to show the President of the network as a fumbling, stumbling, slightly tipsy lonely woman looking for friends? You told us at the beginning of the series that she saw to it that David Letterman’s ratings topped Jay Leno. You told us that she was once president of NBC, you told us that she took CBS’s Early Show from a 16 to a 19 share. All of this experience and she looks like she’s completely new to this industry.

But then, to push unseemly, ham-fisted drama into our eyes and ears. Tom Jeter’s (Nate Corddry) father doesn’t know the famous “Who’s On First” routine; he’s upset because while his son stands there shocked that his father doesn’t keep up on the history of comedy, he snaps back with the apparently little-known fact to Tom that his younger brother is in the middle of Afghanistan while he’s part of this show, making enough to buy his parent’s house four times over and “turn it into a ping-pong room,” according to him.

And then there’s the “black comedian” bit where you created a black comedian who represents all the cliches that obviously tick you off about bad black comedians, how they compare themselves to white people, how they like women with big butts, how they talk about having so many kids that “My next one’s going to be named Oops,” according to the actor who had to dance to your routine. Then, all of a sudden, while Simon Stiles (D.L. Hughley) rants and raves about this bad comedian, about how base he is, Matt hears another comedian who’s getting booed by the audience, but he’s genuine. He tries to make jokes, well-rounded jokes according to you, about being black. Matt believes he needs a little discipline in his writing, but yeah, this will fulfill Simon’s request to have at least one black writer on the staff. It’ll shut him up for a couple of years. I wonder which white writer around the writer’s room table they’ll fire in order to make room for this new guy.

And then the history lesson with Eli Wallach playing Eli Weinraub, a former writer for the Philco Comedy Hour which aired in the same “Studio 60″ studio around the time of the blacklist. You had to bring up the blacklist? You just had to stand up on what must be a soapbox on top of a pedestal and decide you want to lecture the American public on things you believe they know nothing about and shouldn’t know about unless it comes from you. So Clifford Odets named names. So most of this man’s fellow writers and friends were banned from ever working in Hollywood again. And nice anvil you dropped on top of us with Cal Shanley (Timothy Busfield) trying to figure out who this guy is and Cal finding out that the three names given to him by the man were actually six, six names that made up 60% of the Hollywood Ten.

I can’t do this anymore, Aaron. When Jordan laughed about how the word “unfathomable” is hard to say, I threw the remote at the couch and almost screamed, “Fuck this!” I can’t stand how you preach and preach and preach. You used to just let your characters breath. You used to allow other writers a chance to add more and more layers to your creations. But I guess since you probably created this show while riding on the relative success of “The West Wing,” you decided that you would do all the writing, you’d make sure that each character was yours and yours alone. These actors don’t even look like they’re having a good time which by extension, makes characters come to life. They merely look like they’ve arrived on set to live through yet another workday and believe me, I see enough of that in my own life. I don’t need to see it on my TV from people who get paid a hell of a lot more than I do.

As the old saying goes, Aaron, “Stick a fork in it, I’m done.” Because I don’t think you’re letting the reins go at least a little slack (i.e., letting other people work with you as they did on “The West Wing” and “Sports Night”), I don’t think you’re going to bring Debora Cahn on as part of the writing staff (she’s more suited for “Grey’s Anatomy” anyway, as proven by the October 5th episode), and I don’t think this show is going to improve. As I understand it, NBC isn’t so quick to cancel “Studio 60″ because it’s already been expensive enough, but I think it’s time. I know there will still be costs accrued if the show’s cancelled, but there’s nothing else that can be done.

My West Wing DVDs provide greater mental sustenance. Besides some of the books I read, I still use those DVDs to hear words treated like a kind of music. Your dialogue once flowed like that. It’s dead now.

You’ve done a great service to television, but I’ve given up. I wish you would let other people read your scripts and suggest things, rather than putting down whatever you believe will work and sending it before the cameras. If “Studio 60″ somehow becomes a collaborative effort and the show becomes better, then kudos. But I won’t be that struggling-to-be-faithful viewer anymore.

Bookmark to:
     

10 Comments »

While I planned to blog like a mofo, it just didn’t happen. But, in a half exhausted/half drunken stupor I will now attempt to replay my Austin Film Festival experience…

Firstly….I totally, totally slacked on screenings. Remember my last blog, when I said I saw “The TV Set.” That was, and that will be, the only movie I saw here. Things just got away from me as they usually do at film festivals but usually I’m unable to do fun stuff because I’m seeing and reviewing films. This time, I was trying to be social while also trying to maintain the fine line of constant drinking and being alert. It’s a fine line indeed. I will say, when you’re eating BBQ 2 of 3 meals, it makes the alcohol have a lesser effect. I hope.

Anyway…since we last spoke, I went to an incredible panel, best I’ve ever seen…since “Film Threat Sucks” at last years SXSW. It was a panel on adapting books to the bigscreen and the panel consisted of Brian Helgeland (!), Richard Linklater (!), Lawrence Kasdan (!!) and the dude who did “Lonesome Dove” and “The Black Stallion.” It was fun, insightful and very inspiring. After that I really started to feel sick about my screening. Either that or 2 days of drinking mixed with lack of sleep kicked in. I was incredibly nervous though.

I just felt funky. My wife was coming in as were my aunt, my mom and my partner John but at this point, I was flying solo. I felt antsy and barfy. When my family arrived, it helped but when my partner John Beck got in, I was at ease. The guy just don’t give a shit. He grabbed me and shook me and said “We’re fucking filmmakers at a fucking festival dude!” and I was set straight. He was right. Then we drank some beers, went to a great Festival BBQ (free food/free beer!) and headed into town for our screening.

STRINGERS played at The Hideout which is a tiny coffee shop that has a smallish sized screening room. I saw this great guy named Gabe who I met at the party I mentioned in the last blog and he said he was going to be the projectionist. Ahhh…whatta total relief. Someone I halfway know and trust is behnd the scenes. The shorts program rolled and I just sat back waiting for the all too familiar crackle of police scanners that signified STRINGERS. I really have to be honest, when our title page came up, I just started smiling uncontrollably. It was like I was on a roller coaster and we were climbing up and up to the point of showing. Then….WHHHHEheeeeeee!

The whole docs shorts program was great. Really diverse, fun and engaging. Programmer John Merriman deserves big props. He managed to watch hundreds of doc shorts and make an entertaining program from them. He’s a bad ass. After the screening, there was a party that me and John Beck went to. It was a bummer because my wife and sister couldn’t get in. I have a habit of getting snippy when I don’t get what I want and I snipped at the lady. Then, five mins later, I realized it was technically my birthday so I had a good excuse to exercise some executive power and it worked! But they were already halfway home. We hung out and I watched the amazing drunkard John go from Dos Equis to Bombay, back to Dos Equis and then finally, to two fisting it with one of each. Pretty BADASS! I tried to maintain as I had plans to meet up with FILM THREATS own Pete Vonder Haar and celebrate my bday and screening the next day.

We went to the BEST BBQ place in Austin for my bday…Iron Works. That was after I slept in and got roped into “Batman Begins” on HBO. After that I met John down on 6th street and we drank. Alot. Then I grabbed my wife and sister and headed to dinner at Magnolia Cafe and then, off to The Ginger Man for beers. Pete rolled in around 8 and we turned it up a notch. Pete’s the fucking man. Although he’s a better writer than me and has more useless info about shit films than I ever hope to, we connect on alot of stuff. Mostly music but also on how hot Mark Bells ass is. Oh, and how much Spielbergs “War of the Worlds” kicks ass. We had to call Mike Ferraro around 2 a.m. his time to remind him. Pussy didn’t pick up. At nights end Pete had dissaapeared and John, my wife, my sister and myself dragged ourselves back to the hotel.

John’s a big Tom Waits fan so during the 6 block walk home, we started singing like Tom Waits. Songs like…”Build me up Buttercup” or “Peggy Sue” and other non-Waits songs. I started singing Wilco as Waits and some random guy walking by goes, “Hey, are you singing Wilco!?!?” He and I locked arms and sang Wilco for a block or so until he turned. Then we got back to the hotel and headed upstairs. The elevator dings and we started stumbling to our room, laughing our asses off. Then, we caught a waft of something *funky* (if you know what I mean) and just as we got in front of the room across the hall…Michael Rappaport comes walking out! I go “Hey! You’re Michael Rappaport!” He goes, “Uhhh…yeah.” I say, “dude, you were fucking awesome in “Beautiful Girls” man!” He said thanks and then I chatted him up and said I really, really want to see his new indie flick “Special,” but that we here at Film Threat had already covered it. He brought me back to the room he came from and introduced me to either the director or the producer. I dunno. I’m going to try to set up an interview later in the month.

As we started going to sleep, my cell started ringing and my aunt and mom wanted to know why we hadn’t evacuated the hotel? We looked out the window and saw probably 200 people milling around! We called the front desk and they said it was a false alarm. ZZZZzzzzz.

Then Sunday we had another screening and the Q&A was lively. There was one guy at Fridays screening who was really into the film and asked alot of questions. Yet Sundays screening was alot better with all kinds of questions that were realy good and insightful. Nice to know people are paying attention. Plus, Nathan Zellner came! The Zellners rule! That night I had totally planned on seeing the new Werner Herzog/Christian Bale movie “Rescue Dawn” but awaiting our screenings, drinking, only eating beef and sausage for three days coupled with a generous heaping of laziness kept me out of it. Instead my family and I watched the bats leave from under the Town Lake bridge. There’s like….3 million bats that go out for food….pretty surreal. After that and after a stressful few days I retired to the room with my wife to watch the World Series. I was toast.

So that’s my festival. I did spend alot of time chatting people up, puttingup and handing out fliers and being gregarious. But I am bummed I didn’t see more, but what a great time. The festival staff here really, reaally takes care of the filmmakers and I think everyone in attendance was blown away. The Austin Film Fest is small, but it respects writers and treats everyone great. Now I’m off to Stubbs to see Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins and then tomorrow…back to reality. Reality sucks, expecially when your reality isn;t in Austin Texas…the greatest city in the States. Thanks for reading!

Bookmark to:
     

2 Comments »

OK. Saturday night. Arclight theater in Los Angeles. (A 15 dollar seat in a trendy pay-to-park theater with ginormous screens and beer for sale at the in-house cafe.)

Anyway, there’s Tom Hanks and his wife and two kids in front of us. Fucking Tom Hanks. Rita Wilson. A couple of young kids. Cute. Hey, I’m a new dad, I appreciate the chitlins. We oogled them and somewhere back in my mind, I imagined the day I took my little son to the movies secretly thinking about my two Oscars at home…

My wife and I had just left the parking lot minutes before where I cursed at a family of four for letting their kids watch DVD players installed in the back headrests of their GMC Yukon.

“I’ll never let my kids veg-out in the car like that… Bad parenting,” I comment a little too loudly. The angry mom looked at us, scowled and we turned away towards the cineplex.

We step up to get tickets. I’m still the guy who buys electronically from the ticket machine by the front because you can buy senior citizen tickets and slip by the uninterested teenage ushers. BAMN. Saved eight bucks. Hanks doesn’t need that kinda frugal activity. He’s got bank. Shit, he’s paying adult tickets for his kids just to boost the box office.

The conversation begins.

“What do you wanna see, guys?” Tom Terrific asks his young kids.

“Jackass!” They both chime in. (The film I’m going to see… of course.)

“Well, uhh, I dont know if that’s appropriate for you guys. How about something else?” Tom says, disappointing me a little bit. (Shit, my kid will be first in line for Jackass 3 when it comes out).

“How about “Open Season” or “The Guardian?” Mom asks. “Honey, you think Ashton Kutcher is cute…”

The girl blushes. Tom cringes. I get in line for popcorn and wait for them to enter the theater with tickets.

Five minutes later, Hanks and family are behind me. I overhear their discussion. Tom is taking the girl to see “Open Season,” and mom and son are going to see “The Magician…………”

My wife and I sigh and look at each other. This is it, we realize. There will be no more Jackass screenings when we take our little guy to the movies. No more South Park films for awhile. It’s all Pixar and magic, big summer fluff bullshit and Will Smith movies. King Kong shit. The fucking Hulk. I am not happy. We think it over. Should we see Jackass and enjoy one of our last nights together in a filthy, fun movie? Or should we prepare ourselves for the future by seeing a cartoon?

Realizing that we’ll probably never get another night together alone again in the near future, we scrap the movie idea and do something else. We go to the next door bar and drink our fears away, vowing to watch Jackass together as soon as it comes out on DVD…  Shit, our son can watch it in the back of the headrests in our car…

Bookmark to:
     

No Comments »

So I’m here in Austin and haven’t blogged once. I’m a bad blogger, what can I say. Then again, I got here Wednesday at 9:00 a.m. and the Austin Film Festival didn’t really kick off until yesterday. I spent all of Wednesday in a “Lost in Translation”-esque haze after flying all night. Then I got drunk while watching baseball so that really screwed me up for Thursday day. But I pulled it together, got some flyers and hit my favorite city.

There was an Opening Night party down the street so I hit that while putting my posters on every outhouse I walked past. It’s childish, but I got a kick out of it. The party was pretty sweet as both Dos Equis and Bombay gin are major sponsors of the festival. They had all these really cute girls in bright blue dresses handing out various Bombay drinks. If I were into gin, it would have been heaven. However since I’d been into beer all night the night before, I stuck to water. I met quite a few people and handed out bunches of flyers. The I headed over to the Paramount to see “The TV Set,” the new Jake Kasdan flick.

One thing that is super cool about the Austin Film Festival is that it’s really geared towards screenwriters. They’re all over the place and they’re like, giddy because people actually give a shit about them. It’s about time someone respected the screenwriters! I met a nice gal on the way to the Paramount who is a screenwriting semi-finalist here at the fest. We got to the theater about 30 minutes before showtime and they got us right in. Nicely done. The line moved incredibly fast and we were all in on time. To make things even more exciting Lawrence Kasdan was there! I was going to get a picture with him just to antagonize Gore and Bell, but alas, I’m not big into getting pictures with celebs. Unless they’re Gore or Bell.

“The TV Set” was really great! It stars David Duchovny as a TV writer and the whole movie is about his newest series navigating pilot season. Sigourney Weaver is in it as is Mr. Fantastic himself Ioan Gruffudd who I didn’t recognize because he was in a movie that wasn’t total, utter crap. I’ll likely do a full review soon so stay tuned.

After the flick I came back to my room to chill as there was another party at 11:00. It was then I realized I had left my ATM/credit card somewhere. Nice going, jackass. I quickly tracked it down but nearly had a heart attack anyway. Then I went to the party. It was fun and I had some of my favorite kind of beer: free. I met a really nice dude named Alex. He’s 20 and has finished 3 screenplays and got one of them into the festival. Holy crap. He’s a business major at UT Austin too…not even a film student. The party was fun until they booted us all out at 1:00 a.m. It was probably better for everyone that they did that.

I came back to my room and crashed out but was awakened at 3:00 a.m. after a nightmare that no one came to my screening. It was me, my mom and my sister, at my screening and my sister didn’t like my movie. Not only that, but they somehow had a bad copy of my film and it was an older, less good cut. People left. I fell asleep. It sucked! I woke up in a sweat and talked myself down and managed to fall back to sleep. That is until nightmare #2 kicked in. This one consisted of my friend Dan getting his fake ID taken and he was arrested. The thing is, Dan is way over 21 and in the dream, I was actually Dan. You know how that works. Yet in Freudian hindsight (and pairing it with the previous dream) I realized that this dream was symbolic of my fear of people thinking I’m a fraud. Good stuff! Whee. Being creative is fun.

My screening is at 9:45 tonight and hopefully a few people show up. If they don’t, then I didn’t actually have a nightmare and am actually able to see the future.

The Austin Film Festival runs October 19-26 so come see me!
More information at The Austin Film Festival Official Site

Bookmark to:
     

No Comments »

Growing up piss poor, you tend to basically appreciate luxuries almost as an awakening. When you can afford something you can’t have regularly, it makes it all the more valuable.

As trite as it sounds, those who have it all, don’t truly see how good they have it. And those who have nothing who can suddenly afford certain luxuries really discover the beauty behind it.

Growing up, we lived in a building with a higher crime rate than the entire borough. We suffered through a fire, no hot water, drug dealers, three robberies, and a landlord intent on killing his tenants. Seriously.

The primary luxury that we used to escape from the utter misery of starvation, poverty, and crime was television. Every Saturday we’d sit down with my mom to watch “Friday the 13th” and a slew of other horror oriented shows on WPIX Channel Eleven, and for a day we’d escape our misery.

My dad grew up just as poor, and suffering through a pretty terrible childhood, he learned how to appreciate his own children, and he always spoiled me and my little brother and sister. He worked literally four jobs every week and was always away.

And through all of it we couldn’t afford rent, or light, or even food, yet somehow we always had toys, and we always went to the movies. Going to the movies, for the poor, was an experience back then. It still is, I’d like to think.

Back then VHS tapes were still pretty pricey and we only had a few movies and a broken down VCR. Shit, we didn’t get a color television until 1990. So, every weekend my dad had to work, but he would always get off early, and off we’d go to the movies.

Nearly all of my first experiences with movie theaters involved my dad somehow. He took my brother and me to see “Masters of the Universe,” and even though I don’t remember it at all, he remembers it fondly. He also took us to “ET” and “The Abyss” which is a memory that’s very fond to me.

At the time, the image of the water entity extending to the group of people was amazing, and I was in sheer awe of this moment. It’s burned in my brain forever. As with most folks, obsession for film is fed by someone you know. It can be a friend, or a teacher, but most times I tend to hear of a film lover being turned on to film by a relative.

For me it was my mom and dad, and my uncle. For my horror obsession, my mom was instrumental. She’d always sit us down to watch semi-horror films like “Monster Squad” and “The Goonies,” and as I became older, she would feed us the hard stuff. But our introduction to films like “Friday the 13th” and “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” was due to my brother and me stealing my mom’s copies and watching them in secret. Suffice it to say, it was quite a jolt.

But the thing about my dad was, he was always busy, always working, and always under the mercy of trying to make ends meet, yet he was always making time for my brother and I. Every Halloween we’d go trick or treating, every Christmas we had presents up the ass, and every weekend, we’d go to the movies.

We watched “Home Alone” almost multiple times in the cold weather on Christmas, “The Gate 2,” “Power Rangers,” “Demolition Man,” and oh so much more. He was always gone during the day, and we’d barely ever see him come morning time, but he always made time, and that’s what made being poor a little less miserable. It’s what helped my pure obsession with films, and it’s a frame of reference when I become a father someday.

I don’t always remember where we went, how we got there, and what day of the week it was, but to this day I remember my dad rushing home from work, getting my brother and I dressed, riding in a taxi in the snow, and driving up to the Parkchester theater to dive into “Home Alone” for the tenth time.

That’s just the kind of guy he is.

Bookmark to:
     

No Comments »

Tomorrow night I leave for the Austin Film festival on a red eye flight. I’m still a little shocked that we were accepted into the fest. To be honest, I’ve been in an artistic funk that last few months and have really found it difficult to write anything other than reviews. I’ve just had this really apathetic view and couldn’t get my ass in gear. But having Austin want to show the film I made has turned all that around. I have a newfound spark and it feels great.

The past few weeks have been busy. My friend is just putting the final touches on our posters and they look killer. Then, my partner John and I were tossing around promotion ideas. He wanted to get little bottles of liquor and put a sticker on them to promote the film. Although it seems like a good, eye catching idea, I don’t think it’s legal. So instead, we’re handing out bubbles with our movie info on them.

Speaking of booze…I had a fundraiser/birthday party yesterday. I got over $1000! Just in time too as I plan on being as ubiquitous as I can in Austin. I’m not really a good schmoozer, but I do like to socialize.

Another good promo idea I had was to post my movie info on some of the music mailing lists I’m on. I’m a fan of bands like The Old 97’s, Drive by Truckers, Slobberbone and Wilco. Those bands all have a lot of mailing list folk who live in Austin. I hate to be the annoying, off-topic jackass who promotes himself on someone else’s list, but I also don’t want to be the only one in the theater. Another thing I did was I tricked out my myspace page by changing my name on it to STRINGERS AT THE AUSTIN FILM FESTIVAL. That way when I post messages on friends and bands myspace pages, they can see my info straight away.

Other than that, I’m ready to go! I will post more frequently now as the time is near so stay tuned true believers!

The Austin Film Festival runs October 19-26 so come see me!
More information at The Austin Film Festival Official Site

Bookmark to:
     

No Comments »

Get ready for one hell of a shocker, kids. Braced?

I’ve never driven a car in my life. I’m 22, never did so in my teen years. Yes, I actually had my parents drive me wherever I needed to go and back in South Florida, that was mostly publicity screenings of films during the week when I wrote for the South Florida Sun-Sentinel’s Teentime section. Nothing cooler than being able to sit in the roped-off press section with the daily newspaper and weekly alternative magazine critics. Some talked, some didn’t, but I loved being separate from that crowd waiting outside the theater’s entrance with passes won from a radio station contest.

Boy, that was one hell of a digression.

While I’ve not minded never driving before, I begrudgingly agreed to attend driving classes with my 17-year-old sister at an AAA facility in the Santa Clarita Valley of southern California. This also means I’m the oldest person in the room, with the exception of the instructor. So my Tuesday and Thursday nightlife from 6:30-8:30 p.m. is spent sitting in a classroom watching parts of a DVD on certain methods of driving, going through the questions and answers in the workbook and trying not to look completely bored. Truth is, I am. I know most of this is important but really, it doesn’t take me that long to absorb it. In Florida, the night before I took my permit test, I studied the guide they give you and I passed the test with only one answer wrong. Didn’t even bother to thumb through it many days prior. So when I glean something from this class, it only takes me one time and I know it.

Tonight was all about night driving and “emergency recovery,” i.e., how to recover from skidding. It was during the Emergency Recovery lesson that I spaced out for about two minutes. I’ve got a skill I’ve honed from years of sitting in my middle and high school classes. I can actually space out and make it look like I’m paying attention. I can still look at the teacher while he or she is talking (in this case, two “hes;” one on Tuesday and one on Thursday), let my eyes follow them if they’re prone to walking, and still not hear anything they’ve said.

So for those two minutes, I rummaged around in my mind and came up with a memory that would even shock John Larroquette.

I was 12 years old in 1996 and there was an episode of The John Larroquette Show where apparently, Betty White, Estelle Getty and Rue McClanahan guest-starred as themselves. This took some research on tv.com, but the episode was called “Here We Go Again,” and this was the plot:

“A parody of Sunset Boulevard, with Betty White as the Norma Desmond of TV who has written “Golden Girls: The Musical” and entices John into rewriting it, with Catherine as lyricist, and staging it in the bus terminal (with John press ganged into the role of Dorothy when Catherine (Alison La Placa) mysteriously goes missing).”

In the class tonight, I spaced out for two minutes over this, more specifically because of the only scene I remember where Betty White slowly descended the steps of the bus terminal saying, “I’m ready for my close-up…box,” obviously referencing TV Guide back then when they had a weekly close-up box on a performer with some information about them, or whatever they were up to. The other homages were obviously of Sunset Boulevard. But I didn’t know that at the time. I wasn’t as into movies then as I am now. I didn’t even know who Billy Wilder was.

But in thinking about that tonight, I was amused because now I understood the references, now I understood the homages and I may or may not have seen John Larroquette in drag in that episode. I’m not sure.

So now I ask you. Are there any memories you remember when you were young of shows you saw on TV that made reference to a movie or another aspect of pop culture that you didn’t “get” then but you do now?

Bookmark to:
     

6 Comments »