Happy New Year to everyone.
2008 is the year shit's gonna hit in earnest.
Be safe. Don't drive drunk like an asshole. I don't wanna lose anymore friends.
Cheers,
Mike
Friday, December 28, 2007
Shock Value
My friend JJ sent me a CD. It's a compilation of the demos we recorded when we were playing together in a band called Shock Value.
Good ol' JJ. If you're out there buddy, here's a big "thanks man" from me to you. Just in time for the holidays and everything.
Hearing these songs after a lotta years, I can't honestly say we were a great band or anything... it's pretty apparent why the whole rock star thing never happened for that group.
But there's also some cool stuff, too. With the music and songwriting, we were trying to do something a bit more ambitious than a lotta other bands gigging around at the time who were just playing Pearl Jam covers. Fuck those guys... even if we did cover Pearl Jam once or twice.
The recording is hissy and scratchy. We were probably the last generation of bands recording shit on analog. We were also probably from the last generation of bands ever to try to get our shit out there without a web presence, and songs cut on a Mac with Garage Band.
Do bands still pass out flyers? I'm not talking about label street teams, I'm talking bands. I've passed out flyers.
This CD -- what it lacks in musicality and recording quality, it more than makes up in memories. I vividly recall cutting all of these tracks, and playing them a bajllion times in front of empty rooms. Every once in a while we'd get in front of good-sized crowd and the shit would just ignite. It didn't happen much -- just often enough to keep me chasing that dragon for years.
When I came out to H'wood to make the film career happen, I made the conscious decision to leave music behind. I couldn't split my efforts. It was 100% or nothin', either music or film. And it's working out. I think mostly because I'm a better writer and producer than I ever was a bass player. :-P
Still, though... a part of me never left music behind. It's strange that NOW, at THIS stage in my life, I'm working as a music supervisor on a feature. You can take the dude off the stage, but you can't take the... that doesn't really make sense, forget it.
Come the day I have some disposable income, I'll probably pull together a basement set-up, record shit and stick it on the internets a la Liam Lynch and MC Lars.
Ultimately, the music thing paved the way for what I'm doing now. Most important, I spent years getting together with a bunch of people to create a single piece of work -- in this case, a song. Collaborative art for the sake of commerce. And film is that as well, just on a much bigger scale.
Which is why I totally understood from day one getting and applying notes to scripts, getting ideas from everyone, being one piece of the equation. When I started out working as a PA and grip, it was no big deal to haul around, set-up and breakdown equipment. It's what we did for every show.
Sometimes I run into writers and directors who get huffy about taking notes, or even listening to other ideas. They have the auteur thing in mind, where they imagine themselves going into a little room and spinning gold like Rumplestiltzkin and it's the job of everyone else in the world to fall down in worship of the genius and that's it.
Fuck those morons, it's obvious they never played in a band.
If music did anything for me, I learned how to take a dream and turn it into a goal. For most people, going to Hollywood and trying to start a career in the entertainment industry is this airy-fairy dream. Sometimes people come out and give it a shot, and run right back home. This is because they're still in dream land. They're disappointed when they get off the plane and someone isn't standing there with a Rich and Famous contract for them to sign.
Please.
The difference, of course, is goals involve work. Long hours of unending toil. Running up the side of that hill again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain.
On a side note, I'm totally all about Guitar Hero and Rock Band as party games. But, at the same time, I wonder how many fewer people we'll have in the world who pick up a real instrument and learn how to play. Are high scores on these games a replacement for playing guitar? Or a gateway?
Not to say I was ever a bass maestro. But I honestly feel that, for all the bullshit and heartache that went along with it, my life is better overall for having played in bands. While a lot of other people just fucked around, I was going to band practice, playing shows and hustling CDs.
These days, I'm going to development meetings, giving pitches and hustling scripts. Different court, same game.
Good times.
Good ol' JJ. If you're out there buddy, here's a big "thanks man" from me to you. Just in time for the holidays and everything.
Hearing these songs after a lotta years, I can't honestly say we were a great band or anything... it's pretty apparent why the whole rock star thing never happened for that group.
But there's also some cool stuff, too. With the music and songwriting, we were trying to do something a bit more ambitious than a lotta other bands gigging around at the time who were just playing Pearl Jam covers. Fuck those guys... even if we did cover Pearl Jam once or twice.
The recording is hissy and scratchy. We were probably the last generation of bands recording shit on analog. We were also probably from the last generation of bands ever to try to get our shit out there without a web presence, and songs cut on a Mac with Garage Band.
Do bands still pass out flyers? I'm not talking about label street teams, I'm talking bands. I've passed out flyers.
This CD -- what it lacks in musicality and recording quality, it more than makes up in memories. I vividly recall cutting all of these tracks, and playing them a bajllion times in front of empty rooms. Every once in a while we'd get in front of good-sized crowd and the shit would just ignite. It didn't happen much -- just often enough to keep me chasing that dragon for years.
When I came out to H'wood to make the film career happen, I made the conscious decision to leave music behind. I couldn't split my efforts. It was 100% or nothin', either music or film. And it's working out. I think mostly because I'm a better writer and producer than I ever was a bass player. :-P
Still, though... a part of me never left music behind. It's strange that NOW, at THIS stage in my life, I'm working as a music supervisor on a feature. You can take the dude off the stage, but you can't take the... that doesn't really make sense, forget it.
Come the day I have some disposable income, I'll probably pull together a basement set-up, record shit and stick it on the internets a la Liam Lynch and MC Lars.
Ultimately, the music thing paved the way for what I'm doing now. Most important, I spent years getting together with a bunch of people to create a single piece of work -- in this case, a song. Collaborative art for the sake of commerce. And film is that as well, just on a much bigger scale.
Which is why I totally understood from day one getting and applying notes to scripts, getting ideas from everyone, being one piece of the equation. When I started out working as a PA and grip, it was no big deal to haul around, set-up and breakdown equipment. It's what we did for every show.
Sometimes I run into writers and directors who get huffy about taking notes, or even listening to other ideas. They have the auteur thing in mind, where they imagine themselves going into a little room and spinning gold like Rumplestiltzkin and it's the job of everyone else in the world to fall down in worship of the genius and that's it.
Fuck those morons, it's obvious they never played in a band.
If music did anything for me, I learned how to take a dream and turn it into a goal. For most people, going to Hollywood and trying to start a career in the entertainment industry is this airy-fairy dream. Sometimes people come out and give it a shot, and run right back home. This is because they're still in dream land. They're disappointed when they get off the plane and someone isn't standing there with a Rich and Famous contract for them to sign.
Please.
The difference, of course, is goals involve work. Long hours of unending toil. Running up the side of that hill again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain.
On a side note, I'm totally all about Guitar Hero and Rock Band as party games. But, at the same time, I wonder how many fewer people we'll have in the world who pick up a real instrument and learn how to play. Are high scores on these games a replacement for playing guitar? Or a gateway?
Not to say I was ever a bass maestro. But I honestly feel that, for all the bullshit and heartache that went along with it, my life is better overall for having played in bands. While a lot of other people just fucked around, I was going to band practice, playing shows and hustling CDs.
These days, I'm going to development meetings, giving pitches and hustling scripts. Different court, same game.
Good times.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Query of the Day
My favorite part is the PS.
"Dear Mr. Agent.
Perhaps you would like to take a look at my recently completed
Screenplay called [title removed to protect the innocent].
It's a crime story -a young gangster joins the military to avoid jail time. After his
service he seek the truth through the priesthood, when his protégé get murdered by
The mafia' He forced against his will to return to the world of violence.
In addition to this screenplay, I've written another completed romantic
Comedy Screenplay.
If you are interested in reading [title removed to protect the innocent], contact me at the
Above e-mail\phone number and I'd be happy to forward you a copy.
p.s. let me show you what I worth."
"Dear Mr. Agent.
Perhaps you would like to take a look at my recently completed
Screenplay called [title removed to protect the innocent].
It's a crime story -a young gangster joins the military to avoid jail time. After his
service he seek the truth through the priesthood, when his protégé get murdered by
The mafia' He forced against his will to return to the world of violence.
In addition to this screenplay, I've written another completed romantic
Comedy Screenplay.
If you are interested in reading [title removed to protect the innocent], contact me at the
Above e-mail\phone number and I'd be happy to forward you a copy.
p.s. let me show you what I worth."
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Fun With Kidney Stones
I was heading into work Wednesday morning when I got a little twinge in my left side. I ignored it and kept going.
By the time I got to the office, the twinge had settled in to stay. It very swiftly amped up from "twinge" to "discomfort," and from "discomfort" to "pain." I drank a water and tried to walk it off. No dice. It got worse.
I called Chi-Li and said I was leaving, I had to get to a doctor or a hospital or something. She offered to drive me. Five minutes later, we're on our way to Ceder-Sinai, which is just a few blocks from the office.
I get to the ER and sign in. The pain crosses the threshold between "ouch" and "holy-fucking-shit." It feels like someone snapped an alligator clamp on the left side of my guts and started pulling. Damn, it hurt.
A nurse takes my temp and my blood pressure. They tell me to hang out until I'm called.
The waiting room is full of people just sitting and quietly hanging around. I'm the only person there in obvious distress. To their credit, the nurses keep the line moving. But this pain is getting out of control. They call this old man. "What's the matter, Mr. Johnson?" "Oh, I guess I feel a bit dizzy."
"A bit dizzy?!" Motherfucker! I run up to the nurses and yell, "I'm in some real trouble here!" They were about to admit this woman. They put her on hold and rushed me in. As Hagakure tells us, a lot of situations can be handled by just yelling at people.
"Will you be okay on a gurney in the hall?" I didn't care. Anything that got an IV in my arm. I yank off my shirt and they stick a needle in me. A doctor comes up. I give him the low-down.
"Sounds like a kidney stone."
Here's the thumbnail on kidney stones: your kidneys form these little stones made of calcium and acids and evil. They're so small that you piss them out without ever noticing. Sometimes, one gets big enough to give you hard time on its way out. Even then, you usually don't find out it's there until it has to turn a corner half-way down the tube. It bumps around and inflicts agony. Hence, what I had.
They ask me where the pain is, on a scale of 1-10. I was tempted to say, "ten." But this kid down the hall was screaming like he was getting vivisected. I felt weak in comparison, so I said, "seven."
They gave me a drug. The nurse came back. "Where's the pain?"
"Five."
Better, but I was still lying on this gurney, gritting my teeth and rolling around in pain. It fucking SUCKED.
They gave me more of the same. The doctor came back and asked the same question. I told him: "three." He asked if I wanted him to knock the pain out completely. I didn't bother telling him that was what I was hoping for in the first place.
He stuck some morphine in me. The pain went away. Everything was good. Until it ran out. The second that drip stopped, the pain screamed right back to a "five." I waved my arms.
They gave me more morphine. The doctor gave me an ultrasound. He wanted to look at my guts and make sure it was a kidney stone, and not something more serious. He muttered: "Your aorta's where it should be."
"That's always a plus." Him: "Yeah, a BIG plus."
This security guard kept wandering over and making sure I was cool. Did I need anything? Did I have enough drugs? Friendly guy, sure... but he wasn't asking anybody else.
He comes by and asks what I do.
"I've got a kidney stone."
"Nah, man, not what you have," he said, "what you do."
"I work in the film industry."
Mystery solved: I was wearing black shoes and dark blue slacks, so he thought I was a cop or an EMT. Even after he found out I wasn't part of the gang, he was cool. He told the nurse I was going to make him "the next Tom Cruise."
He asked if I wanted to switch for a while, with him lying on the gurney full of drugs, and me in the uniform watching the patients. I didn't tell him that I'd recently played a prison guard in a feature because I fit the uniform, and the director thought I look like a Nazi.
The nurse gave me two tabs of Percocet. Man, that stuff was the shit. Warm and fuzzy, feeling no pain. Why didn't I get that in the first place?
They kept me around on painkillers for a while, to see if the stone would pass. Of the many things I expected to do with my day when I woke up Wednesday morning, sitting around a hospital for six hours waiting for a little rock to shoot out of my dick wasn't one of them.
I asked the doctor if there was a pill or something I could take that would kill the stone. He said the only real cure was drinking lots of fluids, taking painkillers and time. The nurse gleefully told me patients frequently said it was the worst pain they'd ever felt. "It's like the child-birthing process for men," she said. The doctor said, "I've heard it feels like a razor blade when it comes out." Merry Christmas.
After it was obvious the stone wasn't coming out right away, they discharged me. Chi-li came and picked me up. They told me to ask her to drive slowly and carefully. The ER was filling up with car accident cases. It was raining in LA. For a city that deals with major disasters like forest fires and earthquakes, Los Angeles is a complete pushover when it comes to standard weather. They're so used to year-round sunshine that even a drizzle gets the reporters on the news for a "Storm Watch." No one knows how to drive in it. When I went to Best Buy to get some gift cards, I saw two car accidents in five minutes.
While I was sitting on the gurney in the hospital, I saw a British couple come in. The woman kept asking if she was in Los Angeles. She got banged on the head, had a cut over her eyebrow. They had been in a cab that hydroplaned through a red light and got broad-sided by a truck. Luckily, I watched them both walk outta there a bit later.
It was interesting to just sit around and watch the rhythms of the hospital: nurses leaving and coming onto shifts, the non-stop flow of patients, the cop who came by to get a report from the truck driver and cabbie, etc. The staff was fantastic, very friendly and professional. Dr. Sam Torbati took care of me. He was great. Gold star for Dr. Sam.
I got discharged. Chi-li dropped my off at the CVS by my place. I scored the generic version of Percocet. Total cost: eight bucks.
I went home and ate more drugs. I slept in two-hour increments. It was terrible. Ken called me the next morning and told me not to come in... I was laid up, and the town was dead because of the holidays and strike.
I went to Ralphs and bought a ton of lemons. I heard the citric acid dissolves the kidney stone, either killing it completely or at least making it easier to pass.
I hung around all day, drinking water with lemon juice in it, ate drugs, slept and fucking suffered.
Here is a public message to my kidney stone: FUCK YOU, KIDNEY STONE. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU.
Yesterday, I got on a plane and came to AZ to hang with my fam for Christmas. I felt like total shit by the time I got to my parents' house. But I ate more drugs, crashed out... and woke up today feeling great.
I don't know if the kidney stone passed or not. It feels like it's gone, but I don't wanna jinx it. I've got a bit of a twinge back there right now. But is that just because my kidney's been through the wringer? Or is it still complaining about the unwanted guest? We'll see.
Take my very sincere advice, and don't get a kidney stone.
By the time I got to the office, the twinge had settled in to stay. It very swiftly amped up from "twinge" to "discomfort," and from "discomfort" to "pain." I drank a water and tried to walk it off. No dice. It got worse.
I called Chi-Li and said I was leaving, I had to get to a doctor or a hospital or something. She offered to drive me. Five minutes later, we're on our way to Ceder-Sinai, which is just a few blocks from the office.
I get to the ER and sign in. The pain crosses the threshold between "ouch" and "holy-fucking-shit." It feels like someone snapped an alligator clamp on the left side of my guts and started pulling. Damn, it hurt.
A nurse takes my temp and my blood pressure. They tell me to hang out until I'm called.
The waiting room is full of people just sitting and quietly hanging around. I'm the only person there in obvious distress. To their credit, the nurses keep the line moving. But this pain is getting out of control. They call this old man. "What's the matter, Mr. Johnson?" "Oh, I guess I feel a bit dizzy."
"A bit dizzy?!" Motherfucker! I run up to the nurses and yell, "I'm in some real trouble here!" They were about to admit this woman. They put her on hold and rushed me in. As Hagakure tells us, a lot of situations can be handled by just yelling at people.
"Will you be okay on a gurney in the hall?" I didn't care. Anything that got an IV in my arm. I yank off my shirt and they stick a needle in me. A doctor comes up. I give him the low-down.
"Sounds like a kidney stone."
Here's the thumbnail on kidney stones: your kidneys form these little stones made of calcium and acids and evil. They're so small that you piss them out without ever noticing. Sometimes, one gets big enough to give you hard time on its way out. Even then, you usually don't find out it's there until it has to turn a corner half-way down the tube. It bumps around and inflicts agony. Hence, what I had.
They ask me where the pain is, on a scale of 1-10. I was tempted to say, "ten." But this kid down the hall was screaming like he was getting vivisected. I felt weak in comparison, so I said, "seven."
They gave me a drug. The nurse came back. "Where's the pain?"
"Five."
Better, but I was still lying on this gurney, gritting my teeth and rolling around in pain. It fucking SUCKED.
They gave me more of the same. The doctor came back and asked the same question. I told him: "three." He asked if I wanted him to knock the pain out completely. I didn't bother telling him that was what I was hoping for in the first place.
He stuck some morphine in me. The pain went away. Everything was good. Until it ran out. The second that drip stopped, the pain screamed right back to a "five." I waved my arms.
They gave me more morphine. The doctor gave me an ultrasound. He wanted to look at my guts and make sure it was a kidney stone, and not something more serious. He muttered: "Your aorta's where it should be."
"That's always a plus." Him: "Yeah, a BIG plus."
This security guard kept wandering over and making sure I was cool. Did I need anything? Did I have enough drugs? Friendly guy, sure... but he wasn't asking anybody else.
He comes by and asks what I do.
"I've got a kidney stone."
"Nah, man, not what you have," he said, "what you do."
"I work in the film industry."
Mystery solved: I was wearing black shoes and dark blue slacks, so he thought I was a cop or an EMT. Even after he found out I wasn't part of the gang, he was cool. He told the nurse I was going to make him "the next Tom Cruise."
He asked if I wanted to switch for a while, with him lying on the gurney full of drugs, and me in the uniform watching the patients. I didn't tell him that I'd recently played a prison guard in a feature because I fit the uniform, and the director thought I look like a Nazi.
The nurse gave me two tabs of Percocet. Man, that stuff was the shit. Warm and fuzzy, feeling no pain. Why didn't I get that in the first place?
They kept me around on painkillers for a while, to see if the stone would pass. Of the many things I expected to do with my day when I woke up Wednesday morning, sitting around a hospital for six hours waiting for a little rock to shoot out of my dick wasn't one of them.
I asked the doctor if there was a pill or something I could take that would kill the stone. He said the only real cure was drinking lots of fluids, taking painkillers and time. The nurse gleefully told me patients frequently said it was the worst pain they'd ever felt. "It's like the child-birthing process for men," she said. The doctor said, "I've heard it feels like a razor blade when it comes out." Merry Christmas.
After it was obvious the stone wasn't coming out right away, they discharged me. Chi-li came and picked me up. They told me to ask her to drive slowly and carefully. The ER was filling up with car accident cases. It was raining in LA. For a city that deals with major disasters like forest fires and earthquakes, Los Angeles is a complete pushover when it comes to standard weather. They're so used to year-round sunshine that even a drizzle gets the reporters on the news for a "Storm Watch." No one knows how to drive in it. When I went to Best Buy to get some gift cards, I saw two car accidents in five minutes.
While I was sitting on the gurney in the hospital, I saw a British couple come in. The woman kept asking if she was in Los Angeles. She got banged on the head, had a cut over her eyebrow. They had been in a cab that hydroplaned through a red light and got broad-sided by a truck. Luckily, I watched them both walk outta there a bit later.
It was interesting to just sit around and watch the rhythms of the hospital: nurses leaving and coming onto shifts, the non-stop flow of patients, the cop who came by to get a report from the truck driver and cabbie, etc. The staff was fantastic, very friendly and professional. Dr. Sam Torbati took care of me. He was great. Gold star for Dr. Sam.
I got discharged. Chi-li dropped my off at the CVS by my place. I scored the generic version of Percocet. Total cost: eight bucks.
I went home and ate more drugs. I slept in two-hour increments. It was terrible. Ken called me the next morning and told me not to come in... I was laid up, and the town was dead because of the holidays and strike.
I went to Ralphs and bought a ton of lemons. I heard the citric acid dissolves the kidney stone, either killing it completely or at least making it easier to pass.
I hung around all day, drinking water with lemon juice in it, ate drugs, slept and fucking suffered.
Here is a public message to my kidney stone: FUCK YOU, KIDNEY STONE. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU.
Yesterday, I got on a plane and came to AZ to hang with my fam for Christmas. I felt like total shit by the time I got to my parents' house. But I ate more drugs, crashed out... and woke up today feeling great.
I don't know if the kidney stone passed or not. It feels like it's gone, but I don't wanna jinx it. I've got a bit of a twinge back there right now. But is that just because my kidney's been through the wringer? Or is it still complaining about the unwanted guest? We'll see.
Take my very sincere advice, and don't get a kidney stone.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
McDonalds
Yesterday, totally out of nowhere, I got a hankerin' for McDonalds.
I thought I hadn't eaten at McDonalds in years. Then I remembered scoring some breakfast there when I helped Krister move. But it was such a hazy memory, and it wasn't the primary burger/lunchtime meal component which is the backbone of the franchise. So when lunchtime rolled around, I headed down the street to the one on Wilshire.
I ate a Big Mac and fries. I felt like complete shit the rest of the day. After work, I ran some holiday-themed errands and went home to write. I still felt like shit.
The moral of the story is: Morgan Spurlock wasn't lyin'.
It's not like I'll never eat at McDonalds again. I'm a fucking American, after all.
But it'll probably be after a long enough time that I've forgotten about how shitty I felt all day, and get another random hankerin'. Or help somebody move, either/or, I guess.
I thought I hadn't eaten at McDonalds in years. Then I remembered scoring some breakfast there when I helped Krister move. But it was such a hazy memory, and it wasn't the primary burger/lunchtime meal component which is the backbone of the franchise. So when lunchtime rolled around, I headed down the street to the one on Wilshire.
I ate a Big Mac and fries. I felt like complete shit the rest of the day. After work, I ran some holiday-themed errands and went home to write. I still felt like shit.
The moral of the story is: Morgan Spurlock wasn't lyin'.
It's not like I'll never eat at McDonalds again. I'm a fucking American, after all.
But it'll probably be after a long enough time that I've forgotten about how shitty I felt all day, and get another random hankerin'. Or help somebody move, either/or, I guess.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Bad Guys
This is a gang of hardcore thugz, badass g's straight from lockdown.Why am I putting this up on my blog? Because I'm in the picture.
No, really, it's true. I know it's hard to pick me out.
Here's a hint... I'm the second guy from the left.
The other three gentlemen played the bad guys in HITTING THE BRICKS: Celestin Cornielle (Rocco), Enrique Almeida (Tiburon) and Luis Moncada (Rudy). Set pic by Dave Lockard.
They were fantastic, very talented and professional.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Rhiannon Meier
According to this article in Variety, and this article in today's Reporter, Rhiannon Meier died in a car accident on Saturday.
I met Rhiannon when she was working at Blue Star. She took over the development position left vacant when Lauren Kisilevsky moved to Beacon. I pitched her a couple of horror projects. Nothing took, but she was cool and friendly and the door was wide open.
I had lunch with her in May '05. She was full of energy, very smart and bubbly and ambitious. She loved movies and loved what she was doing.
She loved a novel we have, THE FLY KING. Rhiannon couldn't get it set up at Blue Star without a screenwriter and a take, but she was absolutely interested, loved the novel and wanted to see it get done. We tried a few strategies but, again, it wasn't in the cards.
She said, "I totally want to work on a project with you! We just have to find the right one!" And she meant it. So I kept hunting and developing, sending her books and scripts.
Finally, in January '06, I got my hands on a Japanese horror video game called RULE OF ROSE. It hadn't been released in the U.S. yet, so I was a bit ahead of the curve. I pitched Rhiannon on doing a feature adaptation and she flipped for it.
I tracked down an executive who worked in licensing for Sony Computer Entertainment, the publisher. She happened to be in LA for E3. It seemed karmic. We set up a meeting with the executive at Blue Star's office.
She was just as optimistic, energetic, smart and fun in person. The meeting was fantastic. After it was done, we talked about hanging out sometime.
Over the next six months, Rhiannon and I tried to get RULE OF ROSE set up at Sony. We came up dry. It was disappointing, but you can't let stuff like that get to you. We just thought it wasn't meant to be on RULE OF ROSE. We'd keep looking and developing until we found the project we'd get set up together.
Meanwhile, we kept in touch. In June '07, I noticed a mention online that Rhiannon had a new gig, over at Red Wagon. I sent her an email congratulating her. She called me the next day and we caught up. She was just as happy and excited as I'd always known her. I told her I'd keep my eyes open for something that would fit with Red Wagon.
And this past Saturday some fuck killed her.
I was pretty rocked when Bob Clark died -- again, from a drunk driver who walked away from the wreck unscathed. But at least I could find solace in the fact that he'd lived a long and full life, that he'd have a lot of wonderful movies to leave behind as his epitaph.
This... just tears me in half.
My prayers go out to her family.
I met Rhiannon when she was working at Blue Star. She took over the development position left vacant when Lauren Kisilevsky moved to Beacon. I pitched her a couple of horror projects. Nothing took, but she was cool and friendly and the door was wide open.
I had lunch with her in May '05. She was full of energy, very smart and bubbly and ambitious. She loved movies and loved what she was doing.
She loved a novel we have, THE FLY KING. Rhiannon couldn't get it set up at Blue Star without a screenwriter and a take, but she was absolutely interested, loved the novel and wanted to see it get done. We tried a few strategies but, again, it wasn't in the cards.
She said, "I totally want to work on a project with you! We just have to find the right one!" And she meant it. So I kept hunting and developing, sending her books and scripts.
Finally, in January '06, I got my hands on a Japanese horror video game called RULE OF ROSE. It hadn't been released in the U.S. yet, so I was a bit ahead of the curve. I pitched Rhiannon on doing a feature adaptation and she flipped for it.
I tracked down an executive who worked in licensing for Sony Computer Entertainment, the publisher. She happened to be in LA for E3. It seemed karmic. We set up a meeting with the executive at Blue Star's office.
She was just as optimistic, energetic, smart and fun in person. The meeting was fantastic. After it was done, we talked about hanging out sometime.
Over the next six months, Rhiannon and I tried to get RULE OF ROSE set up at Sony. We came up dry. It was disappointing, but you can't let stuff like that get to you. We just thought it wasn't meant to be on RULE OF ROSE. We'd keep looking and developing until we found the project we'd get set up together.
Meanwhile, we kept in touch. In June '07, I noticed a mention online that Rhiannon had a new gig, over at Red Wagon. I sent her an email congratulating her. She called me the next day and we caught up. She was just as happy and excited as I'd always known her. I told her I'd keep my eyes open for something that would fit with Red Wagon.
And this past Saturday some fuck killed her.
I was pretty rocked when Bob Clark died -- again, from a drunk driver who walked away from the wreck unscathed. But at least I could find solace in the fact that he'd lived a long and full life, that he'd have a lot of wonderful movies to leave behind as his epitaph.
This... just tears me in half.
My prayers go out to her family.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Query of the Day
My favorite part is the fact that this is a script about a guy who finds Atlantis... but he spells "Atlantis" wrong.
"Mysterious disappearance of several military planes in area of the Bermuda Triangle entails a circuit of improbable and stunning events. One of pilots is John Mason at the last instant avoids fatal trap of the Bermuda Triangle, but he is immersed in a coma. Skilled doctor of reanimation is Richard Graffield decides to make experiment with revealing the reasons of a coma of John Mason who has survived in a mysterious trap of Bermuda Triangle. He invites professor Hedberg who is a progressive figure and the innovator in the field of electronic sensory-scanning and feelings diagnostics. Professor Hedberg agrees on experiment and comes to hospital. But at first use of the video-navigation scanner a participants of experiment make inconceivable jump in the time and a space, they becomes witnesses of the real events which happened in the Atlantes Civilization many thousands of years back; hardly later they also get to know the full reason of catastrophe of the Atlantis. Intrigued professor Hedberg decides to finish the research which now throws light not only on the reasons of a coma of John Mason, but also gives a certain caution off possible catastrophe... Professor Hedberg and girl assistant Jane comes to Tibet, where enshrined in their opinion the secret message of Atlantes to people of the future... After some extreme situations they find out this secret and receive a key for rescue off new planetary catastrophe, which can happen, as the strategic Network already is under threat of start of a nuclear arsenal... At the last moment all gist of human existence, secret of great Atlantes, and also their fatal mistake becomes clear and simple. And people of our Civilization should correct this mistake..."
"Mysterious disappearance of several military planes in area of the Bermuda Triangle entails a circuit of improbable and stunning events. One of pilots is John Mason at the last instant avoids fatal trap of the Bermuda Triangle, but he is immersed in a coma. Skilled doctor of reanimation is Richard Graffield decides to make experiment with revealing the reasons of a coma of John Mason who has survived in a mysterious trap of Bermuda Triangle. He invites professor Hedberg who is a progressive figure and the innovator in the field of electronic sensory-scanning and feelings diagnostics. Professor Hedberg agrees on experiment and comes to hospital. But at first use of the video-navigation scanner a participants of experiment make inconceivable jump in the time and a space, they becomes witnesses of the real events which happened in the Atlantes Civilization many thousands of years back; hardly later they also get to know the full reason of catastrophe of the Atlantis. Intrigued professor Hedberg decides to finish the research which now throws light not only on the reasons of a coma of John Mason, but also gives a certain caution off possible catastrophe... Professor Hedberg and girl assistant Jane comes to Tibet, where enshrined in their opinion the secret message of Atlantes to people of the future... After some extreme situations they find out this secret and receive a key for rescue off new planetary catastrophe, which can happen, as the strategic Network already is under threat of start of a nuclear arsenal... At the last moment all gist of human existence, secret of great Atlantes, and also their fatal mistake becomes clear and simple. And people of our Civilization should correct this mistake..."
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
HAPPY NINJA DAY!!!
Today is Ninja Day.
The Ninja from Ask a Ninja is having a live event.
Unfortunately, I shall not be in attendance.
I have a meeting tonight with a finance company I've been trying to crack for a couple of years, can't miss the opportunity.
But please, everyone enjoy Ninja Day.
Hopefully, I'll be able to do it up next year.
The Ninja from Ask a Ninja is having a live event.
Unfortunately, I shall not be in attendance.
I have a meeting tonight with a finance company I've been trying to crack for a couple of years, can't miss the opportunity.
But please, everyone enjoy Ninja Day.
Hopefully, I'll be able to do it up next year.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Query of the Day
My favorite line: "Will he stay sober enough to complete the task..."
I also like how the spelling of the main protagonist's name changes.
"Sawyer Barlet Drunk chavanist/racist Head of History Department and on the verge of divorce, discovers who he was in his previous lives.
Genre: Thriller/Horror
Location New York.Germany and Salem
Sawyer Barlett discovers that he is the Guardian of the Blue Crystal. It opens the door to his five previous lives.His x Girl friend discovers she must accompany Sawyer on these journeys as his Guardian. He must defeat the devil in each of his previous lives or the world is doomed. Will he stay sober enough to complete the task and does he have the strength to win."
I also like how the spelling of the main protagonist's name changes.
"Sawyer Barlet Drunk chavanist/racist Head of History Department and on the verge of divorce, discovers who he was in his previous lives.
Genre: Thriller/Horror
Location New York.Germany and Salem
Sawyer Barlett discovers that he is the Guardian of the Blue Crystal. It opens the door to his five previous lives.His x Girl friend discovers she must accompany Sawyer on these journeys as his Guardian. He must defeat the devil in each of his previous lives or the world is doomed. Will he stay sober enough to complete the task and does he have the strength to win."
Friday, November 30, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
A Very Special Query of the Day
"taco worked hard. he has a cell phone. and a dog. his name is vennis. vennis is a dog with ears and a long nouse. he sniffs ground and then he poops. taco picks up poop and has a collection of vennis poop in his garden. his garden is growing with fungus. and vennis poop. the cats go meow for vennis poop.
taco has a wife her name is maria. she is a cleaner. she cleans things. she no like vennis but SHE like TACO!!
did i win? :P"
Apparently, there's a rumor going around that the craziest query wins a free taco.
After deep reflection on the inner mysteries of the art of query writing, I've decided... YES, YOU WIN A FREE TACO.
If the completely anonymous writer of the above query would be so kind as to send me his/her mailing address, I'll hook you up with a gift certificate to the fast food taco joint of your choice. Taco Bell? Del Taco? Jack in the Box? You name it, you got it.
taco has a wife her name is maria. she is a cleaner. she cleans things. she no like vennis but SHE like TACO!!
did i win? :P"
Apparently, there's a rumor going around that the craziest query wins a free taco.
After deep reflection on the inner mysteries of the art of query writing, I've decided... YES, YOU WIN A FREE TACO.
If the completely anonymous writer of the above query would be so kind as to send me his/her mailing address, I'll hook you up with a gift certificate to the fast food taco joint of your choice. Taco Bell? Del Taco? Jack in the Box? You name it, you got it.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Kevin DuBrow Died!!!
Check it:
"Quiet Riot Lead Singer Kevin Dubrow Dies
LAS VEGAS (AP) — Kevin Dubrow, lead singer for the 1980s heavy metal band Quiet Riot that scored a hit with "Cum on Feel the Noize," was found dead in a Las Vegas home. He was 52. The cause was not immediately known.
A neighbor summoned police and paramedics Sunday to the house where he was pronounced dead, police and coroner's officials said.
There was no forced entry, and no suspicious circumstances were reported, police Officer Jose Montoya said Monday.
Quiet Riot was perhaps best known for its 1983 cover of "Cum on Feel the Noize." The song, featuring Dubrow's powerful, gravelly voice, appeared on the band's album "Metal Health" — which was the first by a metal band to reach No. 1 on the Billboard chart.
DuBrow recorded his first solo album in 2004, "In for the Kill," and the band's last studio CD, "Rehab," came out in October 2006.
"I can't even find words to say," Quiet Riot drummer Frank Banali wrote on his Web site. "Please respect my privacy as I mourn the passing and honor the memory of my dearest friend Kevin DuBrow."
Determination of the cause of death was pending an autopsy and toxicology results, Clark County coroner's spokeswoman Samantha Charles said."
When I was a freshman in high school, I thought Quiet Riot was the coolest band in the world (for a variety of contrarian reasons), followed closely by AC/DC.
Flash forward a bunch of years. I was playing a Joe Happy gig somewhere in the sticks (I think Deerfield), and there were fliers all over the place for the Quiet Riot show on the sked for the next weekend. I remember thinking: "So THAT'S what happened to Quiet Riot."
"Quiet Riot Lead Singer Kevin Dubrow Dies
LAS VEGAS (AP) — Kevin Dubrow, lead singer for the 1980s heavy metal band Quiet Riot that scored a hit with "Cum on Feel the Noize," was found dead in a Las Vegas home. He was 52. The cause was not immediately known.
A neighbor summoned police and paramedics Sunday to the house where he was pronounced dead, police and coroner's officials said.
There was no forced entry, and no suspicious circumstances were reported, police Officer Jose Montoya said Monday.
Quiet Riot was perhaps best known for its 1983 cover of "Cum on Feel the Noize." The song, featuring Dubrow's powerful, gravelly voice, appeared on the band's album "Metal Health" — which was the first by a metal band to reach No. 1 on the Billboard chart.
DuBrow recorded his first solo album in 2004, "In for the Kill," and the band's last studio CD, "Rehab," came out in October 2006.
"I can't even find words to say," Quiet Riot drummer Frank Banali wrote on his Web site. "Please respect my privacy as I mourn the passing and honor the memory of my dearest friend Kevin DuBrow."
Determination of the cause of death was pending an autopsy and toxicology results, Clark County coroner's spokeswoman Samantha Charles said."
When I was a freshman in high school, I thought Quiet Riot was the coolest band in the world (for a variety of contrarian reasons), followed closely by AC/DC.
Flash forward a bunch of years. I was playing a Joe Happy gig somewhere in the sticks (I think Deerfield), and there were fliers all over the place for the Quiet Riot show on the sked for the next weekend. I remember thinking: "So THAT'S what happened to Quiet Riot."
Query of the Day
"Normal boys, of our times, those continually attached to his/her own cellular video, even to see the last tape sent by a proper friend or a tape, even unloaded by Internet, to show with pride to his/her own friends…
Few cares if the images reproduce a puzzling scene as the decapitation of the soldier in Afghanistan or the tape of a violence indeed …are imagines, these unloaded under the name of amusing files…
Someone him sudden small director and it takes back our most sinister and iniquitous perverts…
This way, suddenly a high school student discovers this perverse fun and favored by his friends Dario, Viviana and Monia and from Sandro they form a gang …
With the same spirit of whom plays to the PlayStation and the same inexplicable state of mind of whom is having a good time even himself in the disco or with other boasts (these him of youth) they improvise actions of violence, actually to flow in violent physical attacks and to violence physical o come upon him in bloody struggles of district with other groups (the gangsters of quarters…come it happens to London and in America)
Yet they are all good boys!
Dario with instant output in school, the night is improvised escort for enjoy sexuality with contempt, almost a slash to himself; Luca, adored by his father (entrepreneur) that he doesn't lose occasion to adulate with pride his own child, he is for a long time by now enslaved of the cocaine, while Sandro Worker Building with the dream to become model but a boy that he works with the sweat of the forehead, serious and very responsible to the point to succeed in sustaining alone himself, its anger flows through carnal violence and physics
Boys as so many others, normal boys, to different social classes, that confuse in the endless sea of his own contemporaries, to the point to become to the eye of the law of the unknown emeritus…
The unbelievable success of their tapes, the in demand among the friends, the more unloaded in Internet, the continuous struggles among groups, expose over way the group, actually to end in the net of a Journalist that for a long time it follows this phenomenon and that, with the help of a young commissioner he/she will succeed in uncovering the group of friends overcoming that barrier of conspiracy of silence that covered them.
Only to that point the boys incredibly account that is not treated of a game make; and it is really this the most unbelievable and puzzling fact; them only protagonists of a virtual truth felt, of the protagonists of a video game their horrible video game….. "
Few cares if the images reproduce a puzzling scene as the decapitation of the soldier in Afghanistan or the tape of a violence indeed …are imagines, these unloaded under the name of amusing files…
Someone him sudden small director and it takes back our most sinister and iniquitous perverts…
This way, suddenly a high school student discovers this perverse fun and favored by his friends Dario, Viviana and Monia and from Sandro they form a gang …
With the same spirit of whom plays to the PlayStation and the same inexplicable state of mind of whom is having a good time even himself in the disco or with other boasts (these him of youth) they improvise actions of violence, actually to flow in violent physical attacks and to violence physical o come upon him in bloody struggles of district with other groups (the gangsters of quarters…come it happens to London and in America)
Yet they are all good boys!
Dario with instant output in school, the night is improvised escort for enjoy sexuality with contempt, almost a slash to himself; Luca, adored by his father (entrepreneur) that he doesn't lose occasion to adulate with pride his own child, he is for a long time by now enslaved of the cocaine, while Sandro Worker Building with the dream to become model but a boy that he works with the sweat of the forehead, serious and very responsible to the point to succeed in sustaining alone himself, its anger flows through carnal violence and physics
Boys as so many others, normal boys, to different social classes, that confuse in the endless sea of his own contemporaries, to the point to become to the eye of the law of the unknown emeritus…
The unbelievable success of their tapes, the in demand among the friends, the more unloaded in Internet, the continuous struggles among groups, expose over way the group, actually to end in the net of a Journalist that for a long time it follows this phenomenon and that, with the help of a young commissioner he/she will succeed in uncovering the group of friends overcoming that barrier of conspiracy of silence that covered them.
Only to that point the boys incredibly account that is not treated of a game make; and it is really this the most unbelievable and puzzling fact; them only protagonists of a virtual truth felt, of the protagonists of a video game their horrible video game….. "
Saturday, November 24, 2007
A Little Unexpected Lovecraft
I'm sitting on my ass in AZ, watching Food Network with the parents.
Good Eats, hosted by Alton Brown, starts up. The dish of the day: greenbean cassarole.
Alton starts by describing the awful, green, slimy greenbean cassarole his aunt made when he was a kid as "...something out of an H.P. Lovecraft story."
Sweet.
If I had a cooking show, I'd base every dish off something from a Robert E. Howard story or theme. "Wench Fries." "The God in the Soup Bowl." "Red Snails." "Flour of the Dragon."
Good Eats, hosted by Alton Brown, starts up. The dish of the day: greenbean cassarole.
Alton starts by describing the awful, green, slimy greenbean cassarole his aunt made when he was a kid as "...something out of an H.P. Lovecraft story."
Sweet.
If I had a cooking show, I'd base every dish off something from a Robert E. Howard story or theme. "Wench Fries." "The God in the Soup Bowl." "Red Snails." "Flour of the Dragon."
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Calling all G.I. Joe Geeks -- The Baroness Has Been Cast!
According to this article in Variety, Sienna Miller has been cast as The Baroness.
Variety actually says the character is "a raven-haired baroness." They don't use the character's specific name. But c'mon... this ain't Shipwreck we're talking about here.
I had a ton of G.I. Joe shit when I was a kid. Some kids had He-Man, some kids had Star Wars. I had G.I. Joe and Transformers. I watched the series every day after school. I collected the comics. One of my earliest Christmas memories is getting the first Grunt and VAMP from my parents.
Even though she was a villain, Baroness captured my young heart.
Skin-tight black leather outfit. Jet black hair. Red lips. Glasses. Sexy Eastern European accents. The chick carried guns and knew how to use them!
The Baroness is the ideal by which I judge all other women. So, here's an open message to Sienna Miller: please don't play her like a vampy cartoon. This ain't Natasha and Boris. This is the Baroness, most ass-kicking of all femme fatales. Bring your A game to this one, sister!
Query of the Day
This one takes purple prose to a whole new level.
I love "driftingly," and the "distraught" bats.
"Salem 17th Century - A bizarre and deadly detour in history!
The witch hunt hits feverish peak. Fear of the devil is as real as God. Witchcraft is a hideous crime a person could commit and is punishable by death at the Gallows Hill for the victims accused of sorcery.
Driftingly, a red-stained full moon streaked with ominous dark haunting clouds is witness to the strange forewarn of the vicious lashing of wind and of distraught flying bats, over dead bodies swinging precariously in the wind by the branches of the locust trees.
River reflections of Bridget's scantily clad youthful beauty with long, flowing, wild, red hair, is frozen in fear amidst the overture of the Banshee's foreboding and bloodcurdling wails of imminent death, that of her own.
[Title removed to protect the innocent] vengeful curse hastens chase for the innocent and is carried off by a whirl of ill-omened wind that transgress all natural laws of time and space.
The Salem Witch Hunt Curse unearthed from necromancy, violates the course of natural events in a modern day world. But love and forgiveness triumphs beyond the grave and a chance at love and life is bestowed upon the worthy, at midnight of the Autumnal Equinox. The Author, [Name removed to protect the innocent] is challenged by the conflicting complexities of the past and future. Undeterred, she strokes with pen the somber and bright hues of her visions. [Title removed to protect the innocent] is a Fiction Romance/Mystery/Horror/Drama/ History Screenplay .View the dramatic and mind captivating movie poster at YouTube.com, Crackle.com, yahoo.com, Aol.com & Facebook.com."
I love "driftingly," and the "distraught" bats.
"Salem 17th Century - A bizarre and deadly detour in history!
The witch hunt hits feverish peak. Fear of the devil is as real as God. Witchcraft is a hideous crime a person could commit and is punishable by death at the Gallows Hill for the victims accused of sorcery.
Driftingly, a red-stained full moon streaked with ominous dark haunting clouds is witness to the strange forewarn of the vicious lashing of wind and of distraught flying bats, over dead bodies swinging precariously in the wind by the branches of the locust trees.
River reflections of Bridget's scantily clad youthful beauty with long, flowing, wild, red hair, is frozen in fear amidst the overture of the Banshee's foreboding and bloodcurdling wails of imminent death, that of her own.
[Title removed to protect the innocent] vengeful curse hastens chase for the innocent and is carried off by a whirl of ill-omened wind that transgress all natural laws of time and space.
The Salem Witch Hunt Curse unearthed from necromancy, violates the course of natural events in a modern day world. But love and forgiveness triumphs beyond the grave and a chance at love and life is bestowed upon the worthy, at midnight of the Autumnal Equinox. The Author, [Name removed to protect the innocent] is challenged by the conflicting complexities of the past and future. Undeterred, she strokes with pen the somber and bright hues of her visions. [Title removed to protect the innocent] is a Fiction Romance/Mystery/Horror/Drama/ History Screenplay .View the dramatic and mind captivating movie poster at YouTube.com, Crackle.com, yahoo.com, Aol.com & Facebook.com."
Friday, November 16, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
PUNK ROCK!!!
Few possess the raw rock power necessary to play the world's largest guitar.As He-Man might say, I have the power.
Once a Grip, Always a Grip
Me on the Fox lot.I could be a studio head, and I'd still be putting up the lights...
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Query of the Day
This one's just... wow.
"Mady Wright is 18 and she's never seen a penis.
Mady's days are spent navigating the seedy underbelly of movie theater employment and surviving the hell that is high school. On the verge of a breakdown, she consults her friend Shelley, who assures her that the key to stress relief is to get her hymen-ripping over with. After some soul-searching, Mady decides to find a worthy guy with whom to knock boots.
Will Mady find some man candy? Will she go all the way?"
"Mady Wright is 18 and she's never seen a penis.
Mady's days are spent navigating the seedy underbelly of movie theater employment and surviving the hell that is high school. On the verge of a breakdown, she consults her friend Shelley, who assures her that the key to stress relief is to get her hymen-ripping over with. After some soul-searching, Mady decides to find a worthy guy with whom to knock boots.
Will Mady find some man candy? Will she go all the way?"
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Bearwatch
I'm starting a new feature in my blog called "Bearwatch."
This is in response to having seen Grizzly Man, one of the best movies ever made. Werner Herzog made a compelling case that bears want nothing more than to fuck your shit up. We should keep an eye on them.
It's also a double reference to the watch Timothy was wearing when a bear ate him. In Grizzly Man, a lawyer bequeaths the watch to his next-of-kin, and helpfully points out that it's "still ticking." I was really impressed. Man, that's a hell of a watch. It's my firm belief that, if any watch in the world deserves to have magical, bear-related powers, it's that motherfucker right there.
Hence: "Bearwatch."
I've reported here on bears in the past. Now I'm making it official.
That said...
Wild thief leaves candy wrapper trail
By Doyle Murphy
November 08, 2007
Vernon, N.J. - A brawny thief smashed through a minivan’s window yesterday, took the vehicle on a short ride and dumped it on the side of the road before fleeing on foot into the woods, township police said.
Police have described the suspect as a black bear.
About 2 a.m., Patrolman David Dehardt noticed the 2004 Mazda minivan parked on the side of the road in the Highland Lakes section of the township.
Dehardt investigated and took detailed notes to describe the crime scene: paw marks on the windshield, bear drool on the cloth interior, claw marks on torn-off door panels, black hair on the seats and countless candy wrappers in and out of the minivan.
Based on his investigation, Dehardt developed a theory. The bear broke the window to steal a bag of Halloween candy and dislodged the parking brake, sending the minivan about 40 feet down a driveway and onto the road.
Dehardt followed a trail of candy wrappers into the woods, but was unable to locate the suspect.
This is in response to having seen Grizzly Man, one of the best movies ever made. Werner Herzog made a compelling case that bears want nothing more than to fuck your shit up. We should keep an eye on them.
It's also a double reference to the watch Timothy was wearing when a bear ate him. In Grizzly Man, a lawyer bequeaths the watch to his next-of-kin, and helpfully points out that it's "still ticking." I was really impressed. Man, that's a hell of a watch. It's my firm belief that, if any watch in the world deserves to have magical, bear-related powers, it's that motherfucker right there.
Hence: "Bearwatch."
I've reported here on bears in the past. Now I'm making it official.
That said...
Wild thief leaves candy wrapper trail
By Doyle Murphy
November 08, 2007
Vernon, N.J. - A brawny thief smashed through a minivan’s window yesterday, took the vehicle on a short ride and dumped it on the side of the road before fleeing on foot into the woods, township police said.
Police have described the suspect as a black bear.
About 2 a.m., Patrolman David Dehardt noticed the 2004 Mazda minivan parked on the side of the road in the Highland Lakes section of the township.
Dehardt investigated and took detailed notes to describe the crime scene: paw marks on the windshield, bear drool on the cloth interior, claw marks on torn-off door panels, black hair on the seats and countless candy wrappers in and out of the minivan.
Based on his investigation, Dehardt developed a theory. The bear broke the window to steal a bag of Halloween candy and dislodged the parking brake, sending the minivan about 40 feet down a driveway and onto the road.
Dehardt followed a trail of candy wrappers into the woods, but was unable to locate the suspect.
Call of the Day II
A real estate agent just called me.
She asked me to refer her to any of my screenwriter clients in case the strike went on for a long time and they needed to sell their house.
In return, she'd give me a kickback.
It's like Dick Jones says, good business is where you find it...
She asked me to refer her to any of my screenwriter clients in case the strike went on for a long time and they needed to sell their house.
In return, she'd give me a kickback.
It's like Dick Jones says, good business is where you find it...
Call of the Day
An elderly woman called this morning. She told me the state from which she was calling, an immediate red flag that this was going to be a fun one.
"I sent a query letter, and I haven't heard back."
Following up on query letters is bone-headed in and of itself. But I cut her a little slack because she was an old lady.
She went on to explain that the post office returned the envelope as "undeliverable." (Possibly explaining why she hadn't heard back from us, but I digress). She read off the address. Long, confused story short...
... she just put the company name on the envelope, and that's it. Like we're the White House or Santa Claus.
I explained to her that Los Angeles is a big place with lots of people and, if she wanted us to get the query letter, she'd have to put the full address on the envelope.
She asked, "Is that how it's always been?"
"Yes, that's how it's always been."
The only similar call I can remember is from a couple of years ago, when a woman asked me to walk her through the steps of addressing an envelope so she could send her query letter.
It's a crazy world.
"I sent a query letter, and I haven't heard back."
Following up on query letters is bone-headed in and of itself. But I cut her a little slack because she was an old lady.
She went on to explain that the post office returned the envelope as "undeliverable." (Possibly explaining why she hadn't heard back from us, but I digress). She read off the address. Long, confused story short...
... she just put the company name on the envelope, and that's it. Like we're the White House or Santa Claus.
I explained to her that Los Angeles is a big place with lots of people and, if she wanted us to get the query letter, she'd have to put the full address on the envelope.
She asked, "Is that how it's always been?"
"Yes, that's how it's always been."
The only similar call I can remember is from a couple of years ago, when a woman asked me to walk her through the steps of addressing an envelope so she could send her query letter.
It's a crazy world.
Monday, November 12, 2007
To Protect and Serve... the Executive Producer
Me playing a guard and using my Glare of Authority while posing with Mark the E.P.
I AM THE LAW
I got drafted into playing a prison guard on BRICKS. The director was gonna play the part. But the uniform wardrobe had magically (and perfectly) fit me. And I'd just gotten my head shaved the day before, purely at random. I play this movie's version of the Frank Oz character in The Blues Brothers. But I don't say anything, I just clench my jaw (see above), give the hero a Nazi-like stare and have him sign out his shit.
Query of the Day
"A discrete alien invasion. The white house is contacted and experiments with humans start. The aliens have morphing technology, teleportation, evaporation and work at the speed of light. These entities also invent the afterlife in order to judge humans.
They 'abduct' Jack as he is a white house advisor. Jack's character shows many vibes. He ends up being wanted on earth for evaporating people at random.
Alien actions include covering up their experiments with movies.
They can xerox, clone buildings and humans...
The lead is Jack and a woman alien who can morph into a human. She ends up pregnant."
They 'abduct' Jack as he is a white house advisor. Jack's character shows many vibes. He ends up being wanted on earth for evaporating people at random.
Alien actions include covering up their experiments with movies.
They can xerox, clone buildings and humans...
The lead is Jack and a woman alien who can morph into a human. She ends up pregnant."
The Striking Strikers
I left the house a little bit later last Thursday, because we had a later call time on set. So I was able to see the strikers in front of Paramount. They wore red shirts and carried red 'n' black signs. They were pretty quiet.
To my pleasant surprise, they were already out this morning when I left for work. I guess they've changed their bankers hours, and are now striking at 6 a.m. They were pretty quiet again. I saw a woman pull up in a minivan and hand one of them a coffee.
To my pleasant surprise, they were already out this morning when I left for work. I guess they've changed their bankers hours, and are now striking at 6 a.m. They were pretty quiet again. I saw a woman pull up in a minivan and hand one of them a coffee.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
More Writers Strike Fun
Yesterday, an exec punched the gas to get through the picket line and ran over a writer. That's the exec's car, and the writer's shoe. The writer got a broken leg. The exec'll probably get two years in the gulag.
Unfortunately, even though I live right by Paramount, the writers are only striking from 9-to-5. I'm out the door by 7:30am and back home around 10pm usually. I'm missing out on all the fun chaos.
This shit's already getting outta hand. I'm hearing from people all over town that the studios and networks are just shutting down shows and producing deals. They're using this as an excuse to clear some house, citing force majeure.
Carrie
I've been catching up on old school horror lately. Partly because of all the remakes going on -- I want to keep the originals fresh in my head. And partly because I realized I just hadn't seen some of these movies since I was a kid.
I watched Prom Night last week. I loved it. Prom Night is every late-70s/early-80s slasher trope combined. It even has the obvious red herring, a kooky gardener who gives high school kids the fish eye while he trims the bushes.
And I watched Carrie last night. This is Brian DePalma at the height of his abilities, adapting a Stephen King novel (his first bestseller, if that puts a date on this picture) with horror sensibilities of the period in full effect. This ain't chocolate and peanut butter. This is chocolate and peanut butter and blowjob.
Carrie also gives us the feature film debut of a young TV actor named John Travolta, whom you may recall from his role as Vinnie Barbarino on Welcome Back Kotter.
This is of interest because, according to the special features, George Lucas and Brian DePalma cast for Star Wars and Carrie on the same day. Actors would come in and audition. Lucas took the people he liked, and DePalma took the rest for Carrie. So there is an alternate universe in which John Travolta would have played Han Solo.
The movie opens with a girls' volleyball game. Carrie (Sissy Spacek) is immediately tagged as a pariah and a klutz. Then we go into the girls' locker room, a scene involving copious nudity. But it's not played for exploitation. The tone is "nymphs in the garden," very slow and steamy and dreamlike. And then we get this horrible scene in which Carrie's persecuted. It's a perfect example of the inherent cruelty of high school girls.
She's rescued by a kindly gym teacher. One of the girls feels bad, and tries to make up for it by getting her boyfriend Tommy to take Carrie to the prom as a way to make up for her part in everything.
(The guy who plays Tommy was originally up for Luke Skywalker. He didn't get Luke. He got Tommy. He relays this fact with a distinct, what-the-fuck undertone of karmic THAT COULD'VE BEEN ME!!!)
These characters reminded me that, despite all the death and horror, King frequently loads his stories with multiple "good guys." His world is dark, but not without lights.
Most of the movie is a high school drama. The acting is excellent. The writing's great. I loved the directing -- there are some seriously awesome shots in this thing. Even simple stuff has an added layer, like the kid on his bike weaving between trees. Just fucking cool.
And then you get the prom, which is still in everyone's collective consciousness.
This may sound like a huge "duh," but it wasn't until that scene when, purely at random, I'd decided to watch two classic horror movies that revolve around bad proms. I wonder if there are any others, so I can make a trilogy out of it.
I also watched the original trailer. According to the trailer, Carrie is adapted from the bestselling novel by "Steven King." Good times.
I watched Prom Night last week. I loved it. Prom Night is every late-70s/early-80s slasher trope combined. It even has the obvious red herring, a kooky gardener who gives high school kids the fish eye while he trims the bushes.
And I watched Carrie last night. This is Brian DePalma at the height of his abilities, adapting a Stephen King novel (his first bestseller, if that puts a date on this picture) with horror sensibilities of the period in full effect. This ain't chocolate and peanut butter. This is chocolate and peanut butter and blowjob.
Carrie also gives us the feature film debut of a young TV actor named John Travolta, whom you may recall from his role as Vinnie Barbarino on Welcome Back Kotter.
This is of interest because, according to the special features, George Lucas and Brian DePalma cast for Star Wars and Carrie on the same day. Actors would come in and audition. Lucas took the people he liked, and DePalma took the rest for Carrie. So there is an alternate universe in which John Travolta would have played Han Solo.
The movie opens with a girls' volleyball game. Carrie (Sissy Spacek) is immediately tagged as a pariah and a klutz. Then we go into the girls' locker room, a scene involving copious nudity. But it's not played for exploitation. The tone is "nymphs in the garden," very slow and steamy and dreamlike. And then we get this horrible scene in which Carrie's persecuted. It's a perfect example of the inherent cruelty of high school girls.
She's rescued by a kindly gym teacher. One of the girls feels bad, and tries to make up for it by getting her boyfriend Tommy to take Carrie to the prom as a way to make up for her part in everything.
(The guy who plays Tommy was originally up for Luke Skywalker. He didn't get Luke. He got Tommy. He relays this fact with a distinct, what-the-fuck undertone of karmic THAT COULD'VE BEEN ME!!!)
These characters reminded me that, despite all the death and horror, King frequently loads his stories with multiple "good guys." His world is dark, but not without lights.
Most of the movie is a high school drama. The acting is excellent. The writing's great. I loved the directing -- there are some seriously awesome shots in this thing. Even simple stuff has an added layer, like the kid on his bike weaving between trees. Just fucking cool.
And then you get the prom, which is still in everyone's collective consciousness.
This may sound like a huge "duh," but it wasn't until that scene when, purely at random, I'd decided to watch two classic horror movies that revolve around bad proms. I wonder if there are any others, so I can make a trilogy out of it.
I also watched the original trailer. According to the trailer, Carrie is adapted from the bestselling novel by "Steven King." Good times.
Query of the Day
"I wrote a screenplay called [title removed to protect the innocent; includes two typos] It is about a pimp name Ryan. Ryan is the main character in the sccreenplay. Ryan works for another pimp name Lanady. Ryan brings all the money that he gets from his hoes back to Lanady. Ryan has problems with another pimp because Ryan got his hoes working on the pimps block. Ryan then has problems with the american mob because the american mob wanna sell drugs on Ryan block. Ryan then falls in love with his main hoe. Ryan gets involve with a strip club and becomes partners with the strip club owner. Ryan bumps into a crookied cop and starts paying off the cop to stay out of jail."
Monday, November 5, 2007
Train of the Dead
This dude fell asleep on a train on Halloween. He was made up as a zombie. The other passengers thought he was really dead and called the cops.
Good thing they didn't shoot him in the head.
Good thing they didn't shoot him in the head.
Writers Strike
I live close to Paramount. As left for work, I passed the studio. I saw a bunch of security guards, but no one was picketing.
I work down the block from the WGA building. As I came into work, I saw one camera crew doing a report.
In my little corner of the town, it seems pretty quiet for the moment.
I was on set all this past weekend. Warner Bros Saturday, Fox Sunday. I was pleasantly surprised to find out base camp was in the parking lot next to the Fox 2000 building. Almost every time I've been on the Fox lot this past year, it was for a meeting w/ Fox 2000 re: DK. Whenever I go, I take a little stroll on their New York street set because I think it's neato. Yesterday, I was on the New York street for the first time for its original purpose of shooting a scene set in New York. Too much fun.
I bailed early yesterday so I could make it into the office today and get the music nailed down.
Time to work...
I work down the block from the WGA building. As I came into work, I saw one camera crew doing a report.
In my little corner of the town, it seems pretty quiet for the moment.
I was on set all this past weekend. Warner Bros Saturday, Fox Sunday. I was pleasantly surprised to find out base camp was in the parking lot next to the Fox 2000 building. Almost every time I've been on the Fox lot this past year, it was for a meeting w/ Fox 2000 re: DK. Whenever I go, I take a little stroll on their New York street set because I think it's neato. Yesterday, I was on the New York street for the first time for its original purpose of shooting a scene set in New York. Too much fun.
I bailed early yesterday so I could make it into the office today and get the music nailed down.
Time to work...
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Annie Hall
I finally watched Annie Hall. I liked it.
There are people who would read the above lines and smack their foreheads in horror at my obliviousness, much in the way I might react to someone telling me they ran across this movie The Exorcist on HBO and, know what? It was actually pretty good!
But, what the hell. Annie Hall swept the Oscars at the same time Star Wars was coming out. Being I was still in the low single-digits, age-wise, you see where this is going.
Long/short, Annie Hall is the kinda movie that is massively influential without my ever knowing. The whole time I was watching this flick, I was ticking off all the later movies and shows that borrow from it: When Harry Met Sally, Ferris Bueller, The Wedding Crashers, Curb Your Enthusiasm and Seinfeld, any given romcom set in NYC, etc.
Woody Allen plays a version of himself. He runs across this sweet girl from the Midwest named Annie Hall. They dig each other and start dating. She likes how smart he is. He likes her golly-gee innocence, which is so different from his own smarmy, neurotic, uber-intellectual Manhattan pretentious bullshit.
So, naturally, he does everything in his power -- by financing her "adult education courses" and analysis to "get in touch with her feelings" and pounding his bullshit craziness into her -- to turn Annie Hall into one of the tribe. Once she's just like Woody and all of his awful friends, they begin hating each other. And Woody hates himself.
It's also a really funny movie, very brash and sexy. The writing's amazing.
I'll be honest -- I've never had much interest in Woody Allen. But I realized one day I was judging this guy's entire career from face value, just like the knuckleheads who think every horror movie in the world is like Friday the 13th Part V.
Annie Hall is my first Woody Allen film. We're off to a good start. There's still that whole pretentious Manhattanite thing going on that fills my mouth with bile and my mind with images of attacking Hansen brothers. But, like Larry David's stuff, I can deal with it because, like Larry David, Woody Allen is using these characters to show just how wretched the entire scene is. I can get behind that.
Maybe next I'll figure out who this Fellini fella is I've heard so much about...
There are people who would read the above lines and smack their foreheads in horror at my obliviousness, much in the way I might react to someone telling me they ran across this movie The Exorcist on HBO and, know what? It was actually pretty good!
But, what the hell. Annie Hall swept the Oscars at the same time Star Wars was coming out. Being I was still in the low single-digits, age-wise, you see where this is going.
Long/short, Annie Hall is the kinda movie that is massively influential without my ever knowing. The whole time I was watching this flick, I was ticking off all the later movies and shows that borrow from it: When Harry Met Sally, Ferris Bueller, The Wedding Crashers, Curb Your Enthusiasm and Seinfeld, any given romcom set in NYC, etc.
Woody Allen plays a version of himself. He runs across this sweet girl from the Midwest named Annie Hall. They dig each other and start dating. She likes how smart he is. He likes her golly-gee innocence, which is so different from his own smarmy, neurotic, uber-intellectual Manhattan pretentious bullshit.
So, naturally, he does everything in his power -- by financing her "adult education courses" and analysis to "get in touch with her feelings" and pounding his bullshit craziness into her -- to turn Annie Hall into one of the tribe. Once she's just like Woody and all of his awful friends, they begin hating each other. And Woody hates himself.
It's also a really funny movie, very brash and sexy. The writing's amazing.
I'll be honest -- I've never had much interest in Woody Allen. But I realized one day I was judging this guy's entire career from face value, just like the knuckleheads who think every horror movie in the world is like Friday the 13th Part V.
Annie Hall is my first Woody Allen film. We're off to a good start. There's still that whole pretentious Manhattanite thing going on that fills my mouth with bile and my mind with images of attacking Hansen brothers. But, like Larry David's stuff, I can deal with it because, like Larry David, Woody Allen is using these characters to show just how wretched the entire scene is. I can get behind that.
Maybe next I'll figure out who this Fellini fella is I've heard so much about...
On Set
Yesterday was a 24-hour shoot day.
We got there at dawn of Halloween, and worked through to the dawn of the new day.
It was a lot of frantic mayhem on my end for the first 13 hours or so. Movies are born of chaos; they don't want to be made. But it's that same energy that makes them powerful. So all you can do is fight the inevitable chaos and hope you come within the 90th percentile.
I'm in the office today, catching up on the work I haven't been able to swing while in production. Back on set this weekend.
So far, so mostly-good...
We got there at dawn of Halloween, and worked through to the dawn of the new day.
It was a lot of frantic mayhem on my end for the first 13 hours or so. Movies are born of chaos; they don't want to be made. But it's that same energy that makes them powerful. So all you can do is fight the inevitable chaos and hope you come within the 90th percentile.
I'm in the office today, catching up on the work I haven't been able to swing while in production. Back on set this weekend.
So far, so mostly-good...
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Coffee and Cigarettes
I really dig Jim Jarmusch. Ghost Dog and Dead Man especially are two of my favorite films of all time. I like Jim Jarmusch a lot more than most... people have made fun of me for liking Jarmusch's films as much as I do. (coughJandeBontcough).
I missed Coffee and Cigarettes when it was in the theater. I finally caught up with it on Netflix.
It's really, really, really boring.
I missed Coffee and Cigarettes when it was in the theater. I finally caught up with it on Netflix.
It's really, really, really boring.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Screamfest LA
I know, I know... I'm, oh-so-busy, but I'm posting a ton of shit on my blog. Fuck it, I'm eating lunch, fuckin' Subway Club on wheat, G. I'm "taking five," as they say in the working world.
Speaking of "fives," Screamfest LA chose five horror screenplay finalists, and HOUSE OF DOORS was not one of them.
Between this, and my quarterfinalist placings for PAR FOR COURSE in Slamdance and the Nicholl, let me sum up my reaction with... "What the fuck?"
I've got scripts with honest-to-goodness stars (the dude who's gonna play Bones!) and directors (the dude who directed Die Hard!) attached, in the pre-production pipeline (sometime in March), and yet I still can't get past the second round in screenwriting contests.
What's the disconnect?
Maybe I need to write something artier. Unfortunately, somebody already got to gay cowboys eating pudding.
I dunno... I like writing scripts with martial arts and car chases and beheadings and making with the big wacky laff-comedy. It's hard to wrap my mind around a story about some weirdo being sad. Whenever I see movies like that (i.e. Requiem for a Dream), I always imagine the Hansen Brothers pummeling the characters with hockey sticks.
Is it wrong? Am I a bad person? Am I too shallow to deal with the high art of the films of cinema? Am I indicative of everything that's wrong with Hollywood, and I'm only placing at all due to some inherent level of craft?
Man, I hope so. Fuck that art shit. This country needs more car chase movies.
Speaking of "fives," Screamfest LA chose five horror screenplay finalists, and HOUSE OF DOORS was not one of them.
Between this, and my quarterfinalist placings for PAR FOR COURSE in Slamdance and the Nicholl, let me sum up my reaction with... "What the fuck?"
I've got scripts with honest-to-goodness stars (the dude who's gonna play Bones!) and directors (the dude who directed Die Hard!) attached, in the pre-production pipeline (sometime in March), and yet I still can't get past the second round in screenwriting contests.
What's the disconnect?
Maybe I need to write something artier. Unfortunately, somebody already got to gay cowboys eating pudding.
I dunno... I like writing scripts with martial arts and car chases and beheadings and making with the big wacky laff-comedy. It's hard to wrap my mind around a story about some weirdo being sad. Whenever I see movies like that (i.e. Requiem for a Dream), I always imagine the Hansen Brothers pummeling the characters with hockey sticks.
Is it wrong? Am I a bad person? Am I too shallow to deal with the high art of the films of cinema? Am I indicative of everything that's wrong with Hollywood, and I'm only placing at all due to some inherent level of craft?
Man, I hope so. Fuck that art shit. This country needs more car chase movies.
Who's Running this Monkey Farm?!
The best part of this article, in my own humble, is...
"This is not the first case of monkey attack on the city's denizens."
When a man can't even enjoy a morning hookah on his balcony without getting attacked by monkeys, the world is truly flying apart at the seams.
"This is not the first case of monkey attack on the city's denizens."
When a man can't even enjoy a morning hookah on his balcony without getting attacked by monkeys, the world is truly flying apart at the seams.
Flaming Squirrel Ignites Car
Check this out.
I think it was a suicide. I think the squirrel was despondent and decided to go out in a blaze of glory.
I think it was a suicide. I think the squirrel was despondent and decided to go out in a blaze of glory.
CRAZED!!!
I have never been so busy at my day job. I'm still pulling together this cast, and we're going into production next fuckin' week. I'm not just learning casting... I'm learning while I'm doing it, working a two-man job, making offers and negotiating and pulling together meetings and auditions and reads.
Trial by fire, man.
Oh yeah, and I'm doing the rest of the shit I usually do all day on top of that.
This is all while the whole town is in chaos because the WGA is on the brink of going on strike on Halloween. And the worst forest fire in years is tearing across the north county. People had to leave the office to go home, pack their shit into cars and sit in their driveways, waiting for the word to evacuate. And the guy who's on board to direct RUN is going to prison.
It's chaos, straight from the universal tap.
In a weird way, I'm uniquely acclimated to this shit. My life has been on a storm-tossed sea for so long that I've accepted the insanity as normal. I don't look for or create chaos, I'm not one of those lunatics. But I can deal with it and thrive.
Not saying I'm this bulletproof motherfucker. But I'm not crawling under my bed to hide. All you can do is take it and move on. Like Hagakure tells us: "Seven times down, eight times up."
Back to the rock 'n' roll...
Trial by fire, man.
Oh yeah, and I'm doing the rest of the shit I usually do all day on top of that.
This is all while the whole town is in chaos because the WGA is on the brink of going on strike on Halloween. And the worst forest fire in years is tearing across the north county. People had to leave the office to go home, pack their shit into cars and sit in their driveways, waiting for the word to evacuate. And the guy who's on board to direct RUN is going to prison.
It's chaos, straight from the universal tap.
In a weird way, I'm uniquely acclimated to this shit. My life has been on a storm-tossed sea for so long that I've accepted the insanity as normal. I don't look for or create chaos, I'm not one of those lunatics. But I can deal with it and thrive.
Not saying I'm this bulletproof motherfucker. But I'm not crawling under my bed to hide. All you can do is take it and move on. Like Hagakure tells us: "Seven times down, eight times up."
Back to the rock 'n' roll...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Karl Urban's Gonna Play Bones in Star Trek
Which, even though it's slated to go into production in June, apparently isn't going to affect RUN. (According to the man himself).
WHEW.
Every day's another screech around the corner...
WHEW.
Every day's another screech around the corner...
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Let's Remake Hellraiser!
Why the fuck not?
I think we all have to swallow the bitter truth that the clock's ticking on an EXORCIST remake.
It fits the paradigm of all the other horror classics: brilliant first movie, vast cultural awareness, shitty sequels... boom, remake.
(Though I should mention I really like EXORCIST III).
From today's Variety:
French duo to remake 'Hellraiser'
Clive Barker to produce for Dimension
By MICHAEL FLEMING
French filmmakers Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo have scared up the job of writing and directing a remake of Clive Barker's 1987 horror film "Hellraiser" for Dimension Films. Barker will produce.
Dimension, which scored a hit with a redo of "Halloween," has the same hopes for "Hellraiser," the film that hatched a franchise around the pasty-faced Pinhead.
The original film revolved around a couple who move into an old house inhabited by the man's eviscerated half-brother, who escaped hellish torture from the Cenobites but returned shorn of his skin. The Cenobites, who are triggered by a Rubik's Cube-like puzzle device that unlocks the gates of hell, would like another meeting with the man.
Maury and Bustillo most recently directed the French fright film "Inside," released last summer in France.
"Julien and Alex showed their incredible creative talent on 'Inside,' and I'm excited to have them at the helm, working with Clive Barker, to create a fresh, suspenseful and scary reimagining of the classic tale," said Weinstein Co. co-chairman Bob Weinstein.
TWC picked up distribution rights to "Inside," a thriller about a pregnant woman who loses her boyfriend in a car crash and is subsequently haunted violently by a mysterious woman.
I think we all have to swallow the bitter truth that the clock's ticking on an EXORCIST remake.
It fits the paradigm of all the other horror classics: brilliant first movie, vast cultural awareness, shitty sequels... boom, remake.
(Though I should mention I really like EXORCIST III).
From today's Variety:
French duo to remake 'Hellraiser'
Clive Barker to produce for Dimension
By MICHAEL FLEMING
French filmmakers Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo have scared up the job of writing and directing a remake of Clive Barker's 1987 horror film "Hellraiser" for Dimension Films. Barker will produce.
Dimension, which scored a hit with a redo of "Halloween," has the same hopes for "Hellraiser," the film that hatched a franchise around the pasty-faced Pinhead.
The original film revolved around a couple who move into an old house inhabited by the man's eviscerated half-brother, who escaped hellish torture from the Cenobites but returned shorn of his skin. The Cenobites, who are triggered by a Rubik's Cube-like puzzle device that unlocks the gates of hell, would like another meeting with the man.
Maury and Bustillo most recently directed the French fright film "Inside," released last summer in France.
"Julien and Alex showed their incredible creative talent on 'Inside,' and I'm excited to have them at the helm, working with Clive Barker, to create a fresh, suspenseful and scary reimagining of the classic tale," said Weinstein Co. co-chairman Bob Weinstein.
TWC picked up distribution rights to "Inside," a thriller about a pregnant woman who loses her boyfriend in a car crash and is subsequently haunted violently by a mysterious woman.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Romero
Gotta keep this short. I'm busy as fuck, but I have to get this out there...
I went to go see DIARY OF THE DEAD on Friday. It has a great concept and the reviews have been positive.
With the deepest regret, I have to say this movie is 75% awful.
Romero's lost all sense of subtlety. Like all of his movies, he wants to get a theme across. In DIARY, he's not just banging a drum... he's banging a drum in front of bullhorn that's pointed at a microphone that's linked to System of a Down's amp set-up.
Worse yet, it didn't seem like he even knew what the fuck he was trying to relay. Okay, mainstream media is dishonest and bad, got it. But when the mainstream media goes off-line and it's just the "bloggers and hackers," he condemns that, too.
There's a terrible voice-over throughout that never shuts the fuck up, constantly banging your head against Romero's "theme."
The characters are the lowest cliches. The dialogue is excruciating. I was never scared. The only saving grace for me was the cool Amish guy who throws dynamite at zombies.
I could maybe blame my expectations. It's a brilliant idea for a horror movie. The reviews were solid. It's fucking ROMERO. But I don't think so... it's just a bad movie.
Even LAND, I watched and thought, "Eh, it's okay." When I rewatched it, I liked it a lot more. This one, I have no intention of wasting two hours on again.
I really, really, really, really wanted to love this movie. I didn't. It was painful to watch. And afterwards, the more I thought about the movie, the worse it seemed.
Dammit!
I went to go see DIARY OF THE DEAD on Friday. It has a great concept and the reviews have been positive.
With the deepest regret, I have to say this movie is 75% awful.
Romero's lost all sense of subtlety. Like all of his movies, he wants to get a theme across. In DIARY, he's not just banging a drum... he's banging a drum in front of bullhorn that's pointed at a microphone that's linked to System of a Down's amp set-up.
Worse yet, it didn't seem like he even knew what the fuck he was trying to relay. Okay, mainstream media is dishonest and bad, got it. But when the mainstream media goes off-line and it's just the "bloggers and hackers," he condemns that, too.
There's a terrible voice-over throughout that never shuts the fuck up, constantly banging your head against Romero's "theme."
The characters are the lowest cliches. The dialogue is excruciating. I was never scared. The only saving grace for me was the cool Amish guy who throws dynamite at zombies.
I could maybe blame my expectations. It's a brilliant idea for a horror movie. The reviews were solid. It's fucking ROMERO. But I don't think so... it's just a bad movie.
Even LAND, I watched and thought, "Eh, it's okay." When I rewatched it, I liked it a lot more. This one, I have no intention of wasting two hours on again.
I really, really, really, really wanted to love this movie. I didn't. It was painful to watch. And afterwards, the more I thought about the movie, the worse it seemed.
Dammit!
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Screamfest
I'm going to Screamfest tomorrow night. Two reasons:
1) DIARY OF THE DEAD is playing. I have tickets pre-ordered. Punk rock.
2) My script HOUSE OF DOORS is a semi-finalist. Out of 25 scripts, they'll pick five as finalists.
I'm feeling good about HOD. I recently did a couple of rewrites for a financer. The gig didn't pan out, but I think the script's a lot tighter from the development work.
After the lack of love I got for PAR FOR COURSE (only a quarterfinalist in the Nicholl and Slamdance), it'd be sweet to get another contender in there swingin'.
Meanwhile, it's just a lot of handwringing over all of this strike bullshit...
1) DIARY OF THE DEAD is playing. I have tickets pre-ordered. Punk rock.
2) My script HOUSE OF DOORS is a semi-finalist. Out of 25 scripts, they'll pick five as finalists.
I'm feeling good about HOD. I recently did a couple of rewrites for a financer. The gig didn't pan out, but I think the script's a lot tighter from the development work.
After the lack of love I got for PAR FOR COURSE (only a quarterfinalist in the Nicholl and Slamdance), it'd be sweet to get another contender in there swingin'.
Meanwhile, it's just a lot of handwringing over all of this strike bullshit...
Where the Great Old Ones Are
Need I say more...?On a side note, I heard from a financer today that they're working with Stuart Gordon on not one, but TWO, new HPL adaptations.
How sweet it is.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Yet Another Awesome Nightmare
I'm a TA at a dorm that looks surprisingly like Bailey Hall, where I lived when I was going to SIU. But instead of college students, it's kids maybe 10-years-old.
Two of the kids keep coming over and telling me there's a dead boy in their room. I'm like: "Yeah, right." They say he's bothering them. He sits in the corner and cries and says stuff that scares them.
Finally, I'm like... fine. I head down the hall. The kids are afraid to go in their room. I say, "If there's a dead kid in your room, tell him to come on out." One of the boys stick his head in the room and says, "He wants to you come out."
And -- swear to God -- at that EXACT moment my cell phone rang and I woke up.
Pretty sweet, huh?
Two of the kids keep coming over and telling me there's a dead boy in their room. I'm like: "Yeah, right." They say he's bothering them. He sits in the corner and cries and says stuff that scares them.
Finally, I'm like... fine. I head down the hall. The kids are afraid to go in their room. I say, "If there's a dead kid in your room, tell him to come on out." One of the boys stick his head in the room and says, "He wants to you come out."
And -- swear to God -- at that EXACT moment my cell phone rang and I woke up.
Pretty sweet, huh?
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
At the Mountains of Madness
Latino Review says Guillermo del Toro is, at long last, moving toward his adaptation of At the Mountains of Madness.
YES-YES-YES-YES-YES-YES!!!
YES-YES-YES-YES-YES-YES!!!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Solomon Kane
Here's an article on aintitcool about the forthcoming adaptation of SOLOMON KANE.
As well you know, I'm a hardcore Howard geek. Conan's stil the first and best, but even his secondary characters are a big fuckin' slice of awesome.
He's the kinda guy who carries a sword, two flinklock pistols and a fetish stick he got from an African sorceror. He wears a cool hat. In one story, he fights pirates. In another, he fights vampires.
(Hey B-Boy, remember Captain Gerard?)
Conan doesn't really care about good and evil. He tends to ruin the shit of bad guys, only because they have a greater habit of getting in his way.
Not so Solomon Kane. If there is an evil ass that needs kicking, he's God's big, buckled boot. Here's hoping this flick's gonna be all kinds of righteous.
As well you know, I'm a hardcore Howard geek. Conan's stil the first and best, but even his secondary characters are a big fuckin' slice of awesome.
He's the kinda guy who carries a sword, two flinklock pistols and a fetish stick he got from an African sorceror. He wears a cool hat. In one story, he fights pirates. In another, he fights vampires.
(Hey B-Boy, remember Captain Gerard?)
Conan doesn't really care about good and evil. He tends to ruin the shit of bad guys, only because they have a greater habit of getting in his way.
Not so Solomon Kane. If there is an evil ass that needs kicking, he's God's big, buckled boot. Here's hoping this flick's gonna be all kinds of righteous.
Monday, October 1, 2007
It's Like Grizzly Man in Reverse
Have you ever seen a bear attempt suicide?
Neither have I.
By the way, if you haven't seen Grizzly Man yet, your life is just a little bit unhappier.
Neither have I.
By the way, if you haven't seen Grizzly Man yet, your life is just a little bit unhappier.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Kung Fu Fuck You
Spoofs of kung-fu movies have been kinda done to death by now. (Sometimes the voices are out of sync -- oh ZING! The acting isn't very good -- DOUBLE ZING!)
But Kung Fu Fuck You has some fresh goodness.
And that title rocks. It perfectly sums up about 86% of my philosophy in life.
But Kung Fu Fuck You has some fresh goodness.
And that title rocks. It perfectly sums up about 86% of my philosophy in life.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
McTiernan in Prison
According to Nikki Finke, John McTiernan has been sentenced to four months in prison.
And here's the Variety article.
And the Reporter.
I'm pleased to see they mentioned RUN in the last paragraph of both articles.
I remain ever the optimist, but I think the imprisonment of the director might have an adverse affect on RUN.
And here's the Variety article.
And the Reporter.
I'm pleased to see they mentioned RUN in the last paragraph of both articles.
I remain ever the optimist, but I think the imprisonment of the director might have an adverse affect on RUN.
The Ruins, and Some Story Hypothesis
When I wasn't rewriting DR or slugging champagne with the A-bomb, I spent my weekend reading The Ruins, by Scott Smith.
This book is awesome.
Here's the set-up: four college friends (two couples) decide to spend a couple of weeks in Cancun. It's the summer between college graduation and the real world, their last chance to just relax and fuck around like college students before they have to grow up. They get to hanging with a German guy named Mathias, who's bent out of shape because he got into an argument with his brother over a girl he'd met. The brother hasn't been heard from since he set off into the jungle to profess his love. (The chick's an archaeologist). Sitting around on the beach is getting boring, so the four Americans decide to go with Mathias to look for his brother. It sounds like a fun, day-long romantic adventure, a story they can tell about their time in Cancun besides, "Got drunk, fucked and swam for two weeks."
At the last minute, they're joined by a Greek guy they got drunk with the night before. He doesn't speak a word of English, but he's a fun guy, so they bring him along. He doesn't even tell them his real name. The Greek guy says he's "Pablo."
The six ride a bus to a little town. From the town, they hire a "taxi" -- this dude with a pickup truck. The guy drives them down a long, twisting path, following the hand-drawn map Mathias's brother left behind. When the driver realizes where they're going, he does everything he can to talk them out of it. But only one guy among their crew speaks Spanish, and he's determined to help Mathias. They ignore the "taxi driver."
Our heroes find a tiny Mayan village. They try to get some information: have you seen an archaeological dig around here? Have you seen a German guy looking for his girlfriend? But they only get blank stares. The Mayans only speak Mayan.
Just as they're about to turn back, one of the group happens upon a carefully-hidden path leading into the jungle. This must be the way to the dig. But why has it been hidden? No matter. They didn't come all the way out here just to give up. The crew forges ahead...
And that's where I'll leave off, because I don't want to spoil anything about this incredible novel. I can easily say it has one of the most evil villains I've seen in anything in a long time. In a word: malevolent. What these six people trip over is the worst news in the world.
It's a story about miscommunication. The novel's written in third-person, trading active POV between the four American characters. We never see the story through the eyes of Mathias or the Greek guy. Mathias is fluent in German and English, but the Greek guy speaks no English, the Americans and Mathias speak no Greek, only one American speaks Spanish, no one speaks Mayan, and the Mayans only know their native language. And the Americans constantly miscommunicate, misinterpret and ignore each other. Instead of working together to save their asses, they spend most of the time bickering and fucking around. The only two relatively sane characters are the only multi-lingual characters. I don't think this is a coincidence.
The Ruins is also a "DON'T GO THERE" story. I have a hypothesis that most stories have their deepest roots in the earliest days of our species. And I believe DON'T GO THERE is the earliest and simplest horror story.
Imagine two cave men happening across a valley they haven't seen before. They check it out. A sabre-toothed tiger pounces on one of them. His buddy hauls ass back to the cave where his tribe lives and yells "Ooga-ooga-ooga!" Which translates to: "Me and Ug found a valley. A tiger ate Ug. If you don't want to get eaten, too... DON'T GO THERE."
The tribe passes down the story. As a rule, they DON'T GO THERE. The story continues from one generation to the next. Long after the tigers are gone, the valley is still considered taboo. Maybe now it's haunted by Ug's ghost.
I think story is the basic unit of currency in human communication. Story serves a lot of purposes, including the earliest versions of survival instruction. DON'T GO THERE is just a sub-genre of DON'T DO THAT, this being a list of things you shouldn't do if you want to stay alive in a hostile world. There's a rich tradition of DON'T DO THAT horror stories.
All haunted house-type horror stories are derivations on DON'T GO THERE. (For example, the fake trailer Edgar Wright did for Grindhouse, simply called Don't). The characters always get a warning, which they always ignore. Because it's been a long time since we've lived in caves and had to worry about silly shit like sabre-toothed tigers living in a certain valley. Right...?
That's why The Ring and Ju-On freaked the shit out of me. They're DON'T GO THERE stories without any warning. How are you supposed to know not to watch this unmarked video tape? How are you supposed to avoid going into this innocuous suburban house? It's not like the Ju-On house has bats and lightning bolts and an organ playing. They're movies that say we live in a malevolent world, where you can lose the game without even knowing you're playing until it's over. Psycho plays on this, too. The Bates motel is creepy and all, but it's not like Janet Leigh's been warned that people who stay there have a habit of not coming back out. (Spoiler).
The Ruins is also in the tradition of horror stories where the characters think they're going to just do something fun off the beaten path, and end up in a world of shit. This seems to be the core of a lot of psycho family-type movies. In The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, they're just stopping to visit a house where a couple of the characters used to spend summers. The Hills Have Eyes has the family detouring to see an silver mine they inherited. There's kind of a warning, in that the characters always realize the trip might be a bit of a pain in the ass, there's a slight chance things could go south. But it's so minor that (as in The Ruins) anybody who complains gets voted down as a worrier.
American Werewolf in London is an interesting variation. The two guys are on vacation. They get tons of warning. As they leave the pub, they're told very clearly to STAY ON THE ROAD. Naturally, they lose the road in the fog...
These aren't quite DON'T GO THERE stories. I'm tempted to call them STAY ON THE ROAD stories. But I think the roots are deeper, going back before we had roads. Since trouble always befalls people who wander off, STAY ON THE ROAD is likely a derivation of the base story STAY NEAR THE CAMPFIRE. (And, if leaving the campfire is the triggering action, we see the true base of the story is DON'T DO THAT).
Seeing as these dooms befall characters when they go out into the wilderness, it seems in our contemporary consciences that cities and urban centers have replaced the campfire. It's the core fear of leaving the city and facing danger in the country.
STAY ON THE ROAD stories aren't necessarily horror movies; we get a lot of thrillers, too: Duel, Joy Ride, Breakdown, The Hitcher, Deliverance, etc. Any movie that uses an empty gas tank or pissing off rednecks as a plot element is a STAY ON THE ROAD movie.
My own script Desert Run is a STAY ON THE ROAD. After a magazine photo shoot, the crew and models jump in some Land Rovers and drive around the Tabernas Desert. It's supposed to just be something fun they do for the extra day off before everyone packs up and goes back to New York. Of course, plot point one shows them the error of their ways.
The Ruins is a combination of DON'T GO THERE and STAY ON THE ROAD. It's a fast read, creepy and tense and laden with doom. On a side note, it's by the same guy who wrote A Simple Plan. I can see the similarities: both are about well-meaning people who get dragged down to hell by their own choices. I've seen the movie, which is brilliant. I didn't intend to read the book until now.
I always read the acknowledgements and thank yous in books. This is mostly because my name sometimes appears in these things, and I like the idea that someone besides me and the author and my mom 'n' dad will see it.
I noticed Ben Stiller and Stuart Cornfeld (Ben Stiller's producing partner) get thanks from Scott Smith for their input. Their company, Red Hour, is producing the film adaptation of The Ruins. Huh. It's not unusual for a producer to adapt a novel, perhaps even optioning it at the galley stage. It's rare for a film producer to get involved so early in the process that they have input on the actual novel. (Unless, of course, it's a novel written by a client of a management/production company --I did a lot of development work on Demonkeeper and Forecast, for instance, but had nothing to do with the writing of Three Men Seeking Monsters).
I'd be interested to learn how Red Hour came to be involved...
Friday, September 21, 2007
Biker's Penis Hit By Lightning
This from Fortean Times, the greatest magazine in history:
"A Croatian motorbiker's penis was zapped by lightning as he stopped beside the road to take a leak.
Ante Djindjic, 29, from Zagreb, said: "I don't remember what happened. One minute I was taking a leak and the next thing I knew I was in hospital.
"Doctors said the lightning went through my body and because I was wearing rubber boots it earthed itself through my penis."
Djindjic, who suffered light burns to his chest and arms, added: "Thankfully, the doctors said that there would be no lasting effects, and my penis will function normally eventually."'
If this ever happened to me, I'd legally rename myself "Kid Lightning Dick Kuciak." I mean, really... after you walk away from lightning hitting your dick, what else can the world throw at you?
"A Croatian motorbiker's penis was zapped by lightning as he stopped beside the road to take a leak.
Ante Djindjic, 29, from Zagreb, said: "I don't remember what happened. One minute I was taking a leak and the next thing I knew I was in hospital.
"Doctors said the lightning went through my body and because I was wearing rubber boots it earthed itself through my penis."
Djindjic, who suffered light burns to his chest and arms, added: "Thankfully, the doctors said that there would be no lasting effects, and my penis will function normally eventually."'
If this ever happened to me, I'd legally rename myself "Kid Lightning Dick Kuciak." I mean, really... after you walk away from lightning hitting your dick, what else can the world throw at you?
George Miller's Gonna Direct Justice League
According to Variety, George Miller (Road-Motherfuckin'-Warrior) is gonna direct the film adaptation of the Justice League for Warner.
Anybody who knew me from my hardcore comic days knows I was always more of Marvel dude than a DC guy. I had some DC favorites: Doom Patrol, Suicide Squad and JLA. There are some issues of Justice League of America that are the most entertaining comics I've ever read. The boxing match with Guy Gardner and Blue Beetle? Classic.
But, one-by-one, that things that made those titles special fell away. JLA suddenly turned not-funny. (I think that issue was entitled "Art Attack," the goddamn piece of shit). Suicide Squad lost all of the characters I thought were interesting. The Vertigo titles drifted from "cutting edge" to "pretentious and boring."
Even the Marvel titles started going downhill. I gave less and less of a shit about what the X-Men were up to. But, for all the Marvel comics I followed, it was a DC title that ended me. When Grant Morrison left Doom Patrol, I just gave up and stopped collecting.
I've come back around. These days I pick up a graphic novel every once in a while. But no comics. After I read them, they just lie around. So... nah.
I was never really into the core DC canon. I knew guys who were CRAZY about Batman. I could almost see that... I never bought Batman comics, but like a lot of guys I'd score Arkham Asylum and Year One and all of that.
But otherwise, I never gave a shit about Superman outside of the Donner movies. Characters like Wonder Woman and Green Lantern just seemed like silly '60s-era holdovers compared to Wolverine.
However: when I was little, I fuckin' WORSHIPPED Challenge of the Super-Friends. I didn't get to see a lot of Saturday morning cartoons when I was a kid; I was always at CCD. The few episodes I caught just seemed like the coolest things in the world.
I tripped over an ep on Cartoon Network a couple of years ago. Most things you love from childhood don't age well. But I loved Challenge all over again, for different reasons. There is not a SINGLE dull moment in this show. It's non-stop story and action, to a completely ridiculous extent. It would be like taking a year's worth of comics and jamming all of that story into 22-minutes.
Every character is in massive jeopardy in every scene. The only exceptions are the opening scene (which sets up the action), and the last scene (when everyone laughs at Gleek 'cause he has a flower pot on his head).
Point being: I think Miller's one of our greatest living filmmakers. And, despite my mixed emotional reaction, you fuckin' KNOW I'm gonna be in the theater for a Justice League movie.
There's some crying in the article about how Christian Bale and Brandon Routh likely wouldn't appear to play Batman and Superman, respectively. That doesn't bother me at all. It's just like reading the same comic characters drawn by different artists. For instance, I've seen some artists totally get Wolverine and depict him as a cool, dangerous guy on the page. And I've read other comics where he looks like a dopey clown.
Not saying whoever Miller casts as Batman in Justice League will be a dopey clown. Just that different people playing the same character doesn't bother me at all. I mean, what the fuck? There have already been at least five live-action Batmans, and even more counting the voiceover guys. So who cares? Bale's a brilliant actor -- go check out Harsh Times if you think I'm wrong -- but he isn't necessary to see this movie happen.
Now let's hold our breaths in the hopes they get someone of Miller's level on Conan.
Who would you vote for?
Anybody who knew me from my hardcore comic days knows I was always more of Marvel dude than a DC guy. I had some DC favorites: Doom Patrol, Suicide Squad and JLA. There are some issues of Justice League of America that are the most entertaining comics I've ever read. The boxing match with Guy Gardner and Blue Beetle? Classic.
But, one-by-one, that things that made those titles special fell away. JLA suddenly turned not-funny. (I think that issue was entitled "Art Attack," the goddamn piece of shit). Suicide Squad lost all of the characters I thought were interesting. The Vertigo titles drifted from "cutting edge" to "pretentious and boring."
Even the Marvel titles started going downhill. I gave less and less of a shit about what the X-Men were up to. But, for all the Marvel comics I followed, it was a DC title that ended me. When Grant Morrison left Doom Patrol, I just gave up and stopped collecting.
I've come back around. These days I pick up a graphic novel every once in a while. But no comics. After I read them, they just lie around. So... nah.
I was never really into the core DC canon. I knew guys who were CRAZY about Batman. I could almost see that... I never bought Batman comics, but like a lot of guys I'd score Arkham Asylum and Year One and all of that.
But otherwise, I never gave a shit about Superman outside of the Donner movies. Characters like Wonder Woman and Green Lantern just seemed like silly '60s-era holdovers compared to Wolverine.
However: when I was little, I fuckin' WORSHIPPED Challenge of the Super-Friends. I didn't get to see a lot of Saturday morning cartoons when I was a kid; I was always at CCD. The few episodes I caught just seemed like the coolest things in the world.
I tripped over an ep on Cartoon Network a couple of years ago. Most things you love from childhood don't age well. But I loved Challenge all over again, for different reasons. There is not a SINGLE dull moment in this show. It's non-stop story and action, to a completely ridiculous extent. It would be like taking a year's worth of comics and jamming all of that story into 22-minutes.
Every character is in massive jeopardy in every scene. The only exceptions are the opening scene (which sets up the action), and the last scene (when everyone laughs at Gleek 'cause he has a flower pot on his head).
Point being: I think Miller's one of our greatest living filmmakers. And, despite my mixed emotional reaction, you fuckin' KNOW I'm gonna be in the theater for a Justice League movie.
There's some crying in the article about how Christian Bale and Brandon Routh likely wouldn't appear to play Batman and Superman, respectively. That doesn't bother me at all. It's just like reading the same comic characters drawn by different artists. For instance, I've seen some artists totally get Wolverine and depict him as a cool, dangerous guy on the page. And I've read other comics where he looks like a dopey clown.
Not saying whoever Miller casts as Batman in Justice League will be a dopey clown. Just that different people playing the same character doesn't bother me at all. I mean, what the fuck? There have already been at least five live-action Batmans, and even more counting the voiceover guys. So who cares? Bale's a brilliant actor -- go check out Harsh Times if you think I'm wrong -- but he isn't necessary to see this movie happen.
Now let's hold our breaths in the hopes they get someone of Miller's level on Conan.
Who would you vote for?
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Django
Last night, I watched Django.If you have already seen and love Django -- for to see this movie is to love it -- you're probably shaking your head in dismay and muttering, "Mike, Mike, Mike..."
However, if you have not seen Django, allow me to introduce you to this fine piece of cinema. This is the Hard-Boiled of Spaghetti Westerns, directed by Sergio Corbucci in 1966.
(By now you're also probably thinking: "The same Sergio Corbucci who in 1980 gave us Super Fuzz, the movie about the super-cop who lost his powers whenever he saw the color yellow?" If so, you're correct. I have a very distinct memory of loving Super Fuzz when I was a kid. No relation to Hot Fuzz, by the way).
It has the look and feel of a Sergio Leone picture. But when Django gets into fights, dozens of guys die. They're like the action scenes with Chow Yun-Fat in The Killer. But it's a Western.
In the opening scene, we see Django dragging a coffin across a dusty plain while a song called "Django," about Django, plays over credits. Which brings to mind the lost art of the theme song being actually about the hero and his adventures. I think the only contemporary holdover of this lost art is the James Bond series. Come the day I'm directing my first action picture, guaranted I'm gonna have a song about the hero over credits.
Django sees three Mexican bandits chase down a beautiful saloon gal. They tie her up. One bandit whips her, while the other dudes laugh. (There's a lot of whipping in Italian pictures, I've noticed). You think this is where Django's gonna step in... but no. He just stands around and watches.
Then five cowboy-looking white guys show up and gun down the Mexicans. The cowboys all wear bright red scarves. They untie the saloon gal. And now you think: "Here are the good guys. They rescued the girl, and now Django's gonna introduce himself."
Nope. They re-tie her up, this time to a wooden cross, and prepare to burn her alive! This time Django steps in. He shoots all the guys and rescues the girl.
Django takes her to a small town, which is a battleground between the Mexican bandits and the evil red scarf guys. In Tombstone, guys like this were called the Cowboys. But in this movie, they're just called "the Racists."
Again, I thought I knew where this was going: another Yojimbo redux. And again, Django kicked my expectations right in the goddamn prostate.
Pretty soon, Django's gunning down dozens of bad guys at a time. He's planning heists. Very shades of gray, this guy. Django keeps getting the drop on the main bad guy, Jackson. And he keeps letting Jackson go, because Django knows Jackson will just come back with more minions for him to gun down. Why hunt down the bad guys, when Jackson will bring them to Django?
I won't ruin anything about this picture, since half the fun is in the surprises it keeps throwing out. I loved it.
This is one of those movies I walked past a thousand times in Blockbuster. Sometimes I'd pick up the box, but I never rented it. Now I'm kicking myself. I was finally prompted to Netflix it when I heard Miike's doing a remake. Oh man... I'm counting the seconds.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Play Dungeons & Dragons... or DIE
This from News of the Weird:
"In June, addiction experts at an American Medical Association meeting discussed whether to consider "video game addiction" as a distinct mental illness (ultimately deciding to await further study), but one month later, in Reno, Nev., a couple in their early 20s were arrested and charged with abusing their two toddlers by ignoring them for long stretches of time while playing the game Dungeons & Dragons. According to prosecutors, Michael and Iana Straw had plenty of food in their house, but both babies were found severely malnourished and ill in a home marked by squalor except for the expensive computer equipment that occupied the couple nearly all their waking moments."
My guess is the children foolishly refused to roll up characters, and thus were left to fend for themselves.
"In June, addiction experts at an American Medical Association meeting discussed whether to consider "video game addiction" as a distinct mental illness (ultimately deciding to await further study), but one month later, in Reno, Nev., a couple in their early 20s were arrested and charged with abusing their two toddlers by ignoring them for long stretches of time while playing the game Dungeons & Dragons. According to prosecutors, Michael and Iana Straw had plenty of food in their house, but both babies were found severely malnourished and ill in a home marked by squalor except for the expensive computer equipment that occupied the couple nearly all their waking moments."
My guess is the children foolishly refused to roll up characters, and thus were left to fend for themselves.
Blatantly Shilling for Dropkick Murphys
The new Dropkick Murphys comes out today, The Meanest of Times.
I can't even begin to express how much I love this band. I love the early oi stuff. Is there any more perfect album than Do or Die? And I love the Celtic/Drovers-type direction they've taken since then.
If you're not familiar, their song "I'm Shipping Up to Boston" played about a thousand times in the course of The Departed, and was also the song playing during the commercials and trailers.
Here is their MySpace page, which cranks sweet DKM classics 24/7.
For a long time, Dead Kennedys were my all-time favorite punk rock band. I still have deep love, but they're not who I'm constantly listening to anymore. When I'm writing, it's DKM and Bad Religion a big percentage of the time. I was working on this DR rewrite Sunday afternoon. Tunes-wise, I just kept it simple and went through the whole Murphys library.
There isn't a single song on any album of theirs that I don't thoroughly enjoy. How many bands can you say that about?
Thus, this weekend I'm shipping up to Amoeba to pick up the new DKM.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Awesome
This pretty much sums up what I'm thinking about every minute of every day.
What song do you think they're playing?
My vote's for "Freebird."
Adria's in the New Kelly Video
Brillant writing client Adria Lang is in the new Kelly video, "Let Me Borrow that Top."
She cracks a bullship around a woman's neck in ending scene.
To the surprise of no one, may I add.
She cracks a bullship around a woman's neck in ending scene.
To the surprise of no one, may I add.
Friday, September 14, 2007
The Town's Totally Dead
The Toronto International Film Festival and Rosh Hashanah have teamed up like the Wonder Twins to kill H'wood. I'm at work -- OF COURSE -- but I'm like the last guy watching the radar at Ice Station Zebra.
But nothing goes to waste. I'm frequently way behind in my script reading. Now's a good time to catch up. I'm banging from one screenplay and novel to the next.
I got a set of really good notes on DESERT RUN from the director and financer. Very thoughtful, very cogent. I agreed whole-heartedly with everything they brought up. I'll hit those this weekend. The basic gist: more character. Fine by me.
It's sounding like we're rounding the bend on IMPLANT. Now it's time to start developing the next projects down the road. Likely won't be ISLAND RUN at this stage... I beat my head against the wall on it, nothing jumped out at me. We'll try other stuff, and I'll leave IR to my subconscious to work out in the meanwhile.
Okay, back to readin'...
But nothing goes to waste. I'm frequently way behind in my script reading. Now's a good time to catch up. I'm banging from one screenplay and novel to the next.
I got a set of really good notes on DESERT RUN from the director and financer. Very thoughtful, very cogent. I agreed whole-heartedly with everything they brought up. I'll hit those this weekend. The basic gist: more character. Fine by me.
It's sounding like we're rounding the bend on IMPLANT. Now it's time to start developing the next projects down the road. Likely won't be ISLAND RUN at this stage... I beat my head against the wall on it, nothing jumped out at me. We'll try other stuff, and I'll leave IR to my subconscious to work out in the meanwhile.
Okay, back to readin'...
It's Not Just Me Who Gets Attacked By Birds
A guy got attacked by an owl.
Some of you may recall I was menaced by a hawk a couple of years ago. If you don't, it's a long and bizarre story. The short version is: for a couple of days, every time I left the office a hawk would swoop down and strike my head. I started wearing a baseball cap, and it went away. I can only guess that, from its Hawkvision (TM) POV, the top of my head looked like a small animal it could carry away. Repeated failed attempts to kill and eat me didn't stop it from trying.
There were two epilogues to the story.
One: I came into the office that weekend to catch up on script reading, and it was sitting in the grass with two other hawks. I'm not exactly an ornithologist, but I'm pretty sure birds of prey don't usually sit in the grass. They saw me and flew away. I ran to the office, but they didn't hassle me.
Two: About a year later, I was struck again. But it was a one-time episode. It hasn't happened since. Or, I should say "lately." You never know, it's a crazy world.
Birds have eerie powers.
Some of you may recall I was menaced by a hawk a couple of years ago. If you don't, it's a long and bizarre story. The short version is: for a couple of days, every time I left the office a hawk would swoop down and strike my head. I started wearing a baseball cap, and it went away. I can only guess that, from its Hawkvision (TM) POV, the top of my head looked like a small animal it could carry away. Repeated failed attempts to kill and eat me didn't stop it from trying.
There were two epilogues to the story.
One: I came into the office that weekend to catch up on script reading, and it was sitting in the grass with two other hawks. I'm not exactly an ornithologist, but I'm pretty sure birds of prey don't usually sit in the grass. They saw me and flew away. I ran to the office, but they didn't hassle me.
Two: About a year later, I was struck again. But it was a one-time episode. It hasn't happened since. Or, I should say "lately." You never know, it's a crazy world.
Birds have eerie powers.
Do You Have a Psychic Dog?
These people are offering a cash money reward for proof that your dog is psychic.
By the way, this shit is true... dogs know when you're coming home, even if it's unexpected.
I saw a TV show where a crew stuck around the house to tape a dog while the show's host took the woman who owned the dog out shopping. The woman wouldn't know when she was coming home. At a random time, the host said, "Let's head back." At home, the dog jumped up and watched the windows.
Dogs have eerie powers.
By the way, this shit is true... dogs know when you're coming home, even if it's unexpected.
I saw a TV show where a crew stuck around the house to tape a dog while the show's host took the woman who owned the dog out shopping. The woman wouldn't know when she was coming home. At a random time, the host said, "Let's head back." At home, the dog jumped up and watched the windows.
Dogs have eerie powers.
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