June 16, 2004

I've really been slacking off on the screenwriting this past week because I've (finally) gotten around to reading Peter Biskind's Down And Dirty Pictures. I finished it earlier today. It has all the same faults as 'Easy Riders, Raging Bulls;' one of the things I don't like about his writing style are the little jabs he makes (Billy Bob Thornton is particularly victimized, for no apparent reason); he'll slight a movie or a person based on his personal opinion, which frequently cheapens the journalistic integrity of the piece, and thereby the reading experience.

As before, much of the book seems based on carefully sculpted hearsay, but it's an expose, so what are you going to do? It's still a great read -- unputdownable, as Nick described after he read it last month -- and for someone in my position, I might call it essential. Unlike the seventies, I've been around for the era this volume covers, which technically is still progressing. My absorption with the independent world began shortly before Pulp Fiction was released; I didn't begin to follow the industry until the very end of the nineties; and even up to last year, I was trying to piece together how Focus evolved from October and USA. Biskind in fills in all the blanks in great detail, leaving me with the odd feeling that I'd taken a trip down memory lane from someone else's perspective.

Particularly satisfying was finding out exactly what happened to Stephen Soderbergh after sex, lies and videtope won the Palme D'Or, which is where his classic and out-of print making-of journal (Yen would concur with me on how vital and inspiring a read that is, if you can find it) leaves off. Reminder to myself: read this soon.

Miramax and Sundance are, of course, the two poles upon which the axis of 'Down And Dirty Pictures' turns, with the October/USA/Focus entity constantly floating between them. The Weinsteins are portrayed as monsters, as you'd probably expect, but they get their dues; a lot of people despise them with good reason, but there's no denying the good they've done as well. I stopped being a Miramax fan years ago, and although a few of the horror stories were news to me, it didn't really change my opinion of them, or make me like them and their company any more or less. Well, that's not completely true; just this morning, I watched the trailer for Marc Forster's unfortunately retitled Finding Neverland, and I felt like I had a new degree of insight as to what's been going on in the two years since the film finished production. It's a story full of potentially disturbing subject matter, but you'd never know that from the trailer, and, if Harvey Scissorhands did any work on it, you might not know it from the finished film, either.

Back to the book. Forget the Weinsteins and the hole they're constantly digging themsleves out of, Robert Redford is the one who gets bludgeoned. Biskind has nothing nice to say about Sundance. He paints a picture of a hopelessly timid, increasingly corporate mess, supported by a micromanaging idealist. Aside from the festival, the entire institute seems to be a failure.

Of course, the Weinsteins reluctantly agreed to be interviewed for the book; Redford, who holds a longstanding grudge against Biskind, refused, and no one else has apparently had any interest in countering all the negative comments. And now, more than ever, I'm pretty sure this has something to do with Primer winning the Grand Prize this past January. Geoff Gilmore says it would have been accepted to the festival even if an agent hadn't recommended it to him; yeah, and they rejected George Washington? Whatever.

From the perspective of an independent filmmaker: the book makes the whole game seem incredibly hopeless (at least financially, but that's because it focuses on the business far more than the art, which I can't really fault it for). It presents an industry that doesn't want to call itself an industry, and one that is as increasingly hard to survive in as it is to get into. Personally, I'd ask whither the tiny, artsy boutiques like Thousand Words, Lot 47, ThinkFilm and InDigent? Are they dirt free, ineffective? I suppose they came into the game too late to warrant inclusion. The book is certianly a biased primer, but it's also an effective one, and for that reason I recommend it; maybe it'll save a few people the trouble of getting into something they don't have the determination to do. At the very least, I'd recommmend reading the postscript at the end, which sums everything up where the independent scene is now, and which reads like a warning, if not an outright deterrent.

It didn't work on me.

And now back to that script.

June 16, 2004

I've never watched a reality show, but I was willing to break that habit to catch our friend Mae Moreno's small screen debut in 'Next Action Star.' I guess I got the nights or the time mixed up, though, because I missed it. Maybe I'll catch the next epsiode. Or maybe not; the reviews have been terrible, even for reality TV, and seeing as how the show was shot over a year ago, there's not much suspense anymore as to whether or not she wins.

Mae and I both share credits in, among other things, the work of another Dallas-to-LA migrant, Ramzi Abed, who has since started his own blog in which he recently detailed the first major day of shooting on his underground HD feature, Black Dahlia. When will the second day of shooting occur? Who knows, but at least he's getting it off the ground...

June 14, 2004

You're too much for me, Ennis, you son of a whore-son bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you.

I read Anne Proulx's 'Brokeback Mountain' last night. It's a sparse story, cold and sad, set in the sixties and the decades afterwards but feeling like something lost in time. Its a love story, and it deals heavily in intolerance, but both issues are sketched with negative space, never mentioned explicitly.

There's sex in it too; the two cowboys scarcely know how to express their feelings otherwise, at least at first. There's been some controversy over reports that Ang Lee, who is currently directing the film version with Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger, from an adaptation by Larry McMurtry, has chosen to take a non gratuitous approach to the love scenes; chickening out, in other words. There's a point there, except that this isn't a mainstream movie we're talking about; this isn't about audiences wanting Jennifer Aniston to end up with the gay guy. I'd wager that if a consummate artist like Lee makes a choice to be nonexplicit, then it's a tasteful one, for the good of the film, and the finished product will be no less honest or powerful because of it. And if the page of screenplay that's surfaced online, containing the first sex scene between the characters and written almost verbatim from the tex in the book, is accurate, then it's all a moot point anyway: Lee's going to merely be staying true to the source material, which is entirely appropriate. I have confidence that Lee will make an amazing film out of this (as opposed to the hope, not quite met, that I had for Hulk), and that it might even break down some barriers; I hope people can think outside of the box and trust him to make a great movie without worrying about whether the two movie stars will get it on.

Although if they do, it'll be pretty sexy. Gyllenhall and Ledger as gay cowboys? Come on, don't tell that doesn't sound attractive. Now I'm going to take this opportunity to take the high road and not make the obvious South Park reference.

Also last night, I spent some time trying to find a store that had a copy of Linklater's Before Sunrise, which I'd never seen, so that I could spend the next twelve hours forming some approximation of the attachment my friends who have seen it feel to it. No one had it, although I only went to three retail locations and refused to step foot into Blockbuster.

So I went ahead and watched the sequel, Before Sunset, this morning, and I loved it. Truly loved it. It felt like a conversation I want to have with someone. That I've wanted to have many times before, and that I'll probably still want to have in ten years. It's been a long time since I felt that a movie was stealing words from my head before I could say them myself.

The entire movie is a real-time conversation, but there's one physical moment that Julie Delpy has, a gesture she makes, that almost made me break down on cue.

I'll have to wait until I see the first film, which I imagine will now hold no ambiguity for me, before I write my review. Hopefully I can dig up a copy.

I had another moment recently where I felt intrinsically linked to some piece of art; the night of the screening, or morning actually, since I didn't get home until almost six, I was laying in bed and drifting off to Morrissey's new album. The best song, Come Back To Camden, was playing, and suddenly I got that feeling, the one I used to have all the time before my body isolated my romantic streak and started to form a cynical shell around it, that this song was about me. I was in a particular mood, and it just hit me, and maybe that's what left me so open to Before Sunrise. Or maybe, and more likely, it's just because it (the movie) is so well made, in all regards. That's what great art does, and that it can do that is what makes art so great.

June 13, 2004

Baadasssss was as great as I had hoped it would be. I felt a few feet higher when I left the theater; it made me feel really proud of being independent. Granted, I'm not making anything that's culturally and socially important, but it still inspired a little bit of a revolutionary spirit in me, and considering where we are in our careers at this point, where there's no turning back, I think that's a pretty important and necessary thing to feel.

It's also the best looking HD movie I've seen yet (at least until its producer's new film comes out at the end of the summer). It's not riddled with CGI (a la Lucas) or semi-sloppy photography (a la Rodriguez) that offer tell-tale video artifacts when transferred to film (I'm not counting the presence of actual cheesy video effects, since they were an artistic decision).

I think Sony's HDW-F900 is still the 24p camera of choice, but it seems that Panavision and Sony are now teaming up to raise the bar. I can't wait to see what sort of imaging power this thing has, what with the CCD being the same size as 35mm frame. Also, the mag-style VTR is a nice aesthetic touch.

June 12, 2004

Well, that all went down quite nicely last night. I wasn't nervous at all until the movie had started and I went down from the projection booth and sat in the back of the theater; it was then that, on its own accord, my heartbeat jumped up to quadruple time. The best part ot the evening was James's statement in his opening speech -- something along the lines of "to like this movie, you need to have an IQ that's at least higher than that of our commander in chief." Actually, that wasn't the best part, but it was still awesome.

Watching it and listening to the audience's reactions, I felt reassured that this is a movie that people might pay to see and feel that they've got their money's worth. Honestly, it felt like a real movie and not something that we'd made, which made the fact that we did make it all the more satisfying. People really seemed to like it. Of course, although I didn't know most of the people who were there, I think it was still a largely biased audience, but at the same time, I don't think anyone really knew what to expect from it either, including the people who worked on it.

But thanks to everyone who came out for doing so; to the cast and crew members who couldn't make it, we missed you, and you'd have been proud to see your great work get such a great response.

My bar tab at the after party: 21 dollars. I couldn't drive home, but it wasn't my fault.

Although we generally eschewed any press for this screening, we decided to let The Dallas Voice, our local Gay and Lesbian newspaper which has done a few articles on Yen in the past, mention it in their 'Things To Do' column. We were surprised when we opened it up yesterday to find almost a full page devoted to it, complete with what I guess is the first review of the movie. It's quite positive, but poorly written (they cribbed the plot description straight from the website) and rife with spoilers and some odd insinuations, and since it's not online, I have an excuse not to link to it. But still, that's our first bit of printed press (but definitely not the last, and I know that for a fact).

And now, I'm off to see Baadaasssss.

June 10, 2004

So if you're in Dallas tomorrow night and you want to go see a movie and you think you might want to see Deadroom but are torn between that and all the other new releases, here's a handy breakdown of your options.

1. The Chronicles Of Riddick. I know, I know, Pitch Black was awesome, but believe me, you're better off seeing Deadroom. I saw Pitch Black while we were shooting Lullaby and have a sentimental fondness for it, and really wanted this to be good, but it ain't.

2. Garfield. What?

3. Saved. Finally going into wide release. It's great, but seeing it instead of Deadroom is kinda like playing it safe, and who wants to be safe? See it on Saturday instead. Plus, if you want Christian themes, James' room has got you covered.

4. Napoleon Dynamite. Actually, I don't know if this opens in Dallas tomorrow, but if it does, consider: would you rather see a $200,000 indie film based on a short film that premiered at the Deep Ellum Film Festival, or an under-$20,000 indie film made by filmmakers consistently ignored by the Deep Ellum Film Festival? I think the answer is clear. See it on Saturday, after Saved.

5. The Stepford Wives. I haven't seen this, and am in no hurry to do so. See Deadroom instead, in which there are at least two actresses and one actor who might be the next Nicole Kidman.

6. Baadasssss. I keep missing the screenings of this one too, but frankly, I think it looks awesome, and for all I know, it's probably better than Deadroom. So if you decided to go see Baadasssss instead of our movie, I wouldn't hold it against you. In fact, if our screening was at a movie theater showing Baadasssss rather than a museum, I'd probably join you.

Me, I'm seeing the re-release of the original Gojira tomorrow. Top that, sucka.

June 9, 2004

I think I'm in love. Head over to AICN to see the first image from Tim Burton's Corpse Bride, which feels like its been in development for almost a decade now, and which, based purely on the title alone, will be one of the greatest movies ever. And the photo certainly helps.

Last minute work has been resumed on the opening shot of my room. Below, on the top, is the opening shot as it is right now. Below that is the entirely CGI version, in its current incarnation.

The CGI version is obviously sharper, as it should be, since it's an actual environment and not just a video image of one. I put some Photoshop filters and grain on this screen grab to approximate how it might eventually look; I think I'll probably have to degrade it to get it to match the rest of the miniDV footage. My original plan was to dolly into the room from the right, but now I think I'm going to start in close at the table and pull out. My brother's finishing up the Layton model right now, and then it'll be time to start rendering...at the rate of about ten minutes per frame. The shot is about eight seconds long, and if you do some quick calculations, you'll realize, as I have, that it probably won't be done in time for the screening on Friday.

I still don't have the knack for modelling anything that's not made up of basic gemoetry -- my best creation yet is an Ed Wood style UFO. I can animate the stuff, though, so I think I might take that model of the room and use it to create some shots specifically for the trailer.

I really sympathize with George Lucas when I'm thinking about the possibilities of CGI; hopefully, though, I'll still have some iota of restraint in twenty years. On that note, I can't wait to see THX-1138 on the big screen; the new trailer is awesome, except for that awful robot factory, and the box for the subsequent DVD release is quite becoming as well. I've only seen the film on VHS, and that was ages ago, but if I remember correctly, it's beautifully experimental. I love all that white, and I imagine seeing it in 2:35:1 will make quite a difference.

That robot factory, by the way, is still not as bad as the additions to the original Star Wars trilogy. But I guess it's pointless to protest anymore; the most one could do is just not buy them.

June 8, 2004

I walked through the rain this morning to get the new PJ Harvey album; I've listened to it about three times so far, and I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon. There's a sole dedication in the liner notes that says 'The End' for Vincent Gallo. So far, that particular song is one of my favorites.

My friend Mateo Zeske (2nd AD on 'Deadroom') sponsored my participation in a photographic scavenger hunt he was holding for a friend's birthday party this past Saturday; he called me on Friday night and berated me for not participating, so I spent the evening taking pictures that might somehow fit the categories he'd come up with (stuff like Someone You've Made Out With, Nude With Inanimate Object, Compassion, Bodily Fluid, etc).

Still photography -- the non-digital kind -- is something I've been meaning to learn more about for ages. As it was, I was guessing on all the exposures, based on what I know about cinematography; most of them turned out okay. I've put the majority of them online, but before I provide the link, a few disclaimers: No animals were harmed in the taking of these photos; I just have a knack for finding dead things. Also, no digital alteration was done, except to correct the black levels in three of the darker pictures. Also, I will never again use 1 hour processing because they just screw everything up, but until then I'm just saying that the streaks in the pictures are supposed to be there (and they do kinda look cool in some of them). Maybe I'll take some classes and then build a dark room in my closet so I can have total control. Unfortunately, I don't actually have a closet.

Anyway, here they are.

I was out biking this evening and wondering if there any snakes in the wooded riverside I was riding alongside. At that moment, I came across a huge cottonmouth, lying fully extended at the edge of the path, waiting patiently for a chance to cross. That's about all there is to that anecdote. Shortly thereafter, I returned home to watch some movies. James lent me his Netflixed copy of 'I Am Cuba,' so that I could finally know what PTA was talking about when describing how he ripped it off for the pool scene in 'Boogie Nights.' It blew my mind -- I'd hold it up next to 'Battleship Potemkin' as grand examples of brilliantly innovative political filmmaking ( I need to see 'Triumph Of The Will' now), although Kalatozov's film lacks the subtetly of Eisenstein's. The last segment is so heavy with propaganda that it borders on self-parody, but the chapters that come before it (particularly the first and third), while still very pointed, are self-involved enough that they work as personal, human stories, rather than commercials for Castro's revolution. The filmmaking used to tell these stories is breathtaking; everything's shot with an extremely wide lens, and nearly every shot seems to last the maximum length of the magazine. There's the famous pool that PTA mentioned, and then the one that moves out the window and over the parade -- it's the kind of shot that, even with all the technology available today, would seem impossible. I couldn't believe my eyes when it (that shot) occurred; I was wondering how far it would go, and I imagined how amazing it would be if it went as far as it looked like it might go, and then I realized that it was going that far, and by then I was experiencing one of those spine tingling, elevated sensations that is one of those incommunicable reasons for my love of all cinema.

June 6, 2004

I went to The Modern today to see the Pierre Huyghe video installation. I'd already seen one portion of it, The Third Memory, which is a recreation of the actual events (by way of memory) depicted in 'Dog Day Afternoon,' at the Guggenheim, but the real standout was 'Les Grands Ensemble.' This 8 minute film depicts two 60s-era Parisian apartment buildings on a misty, wintry street facing off in a battle for domination, represented by the arrays of lit windows on their facades. Each building reaches a state of electrical frenzy that is almost nerve wracking; one eventually wins out, but by that point their struggle has become pointless, their purposes lost. The whole thing is accompanied by an effective ambient soundtrack that pulses along with the lights. It's a stunning piece of work, and it got me thinking....

...if we ever get that 'Deadroom' installation off the ground in the way that we (or at least I) envision it, an interesting solution to the sound would be to not have any sound at all, and let the effect of the installation be storytelling solely through the human face.

Shortly after that ocurred to me, I realized that it was a great idea and that I should probably just make it an entity unto itself, something specifically designed for that intention, rather than try to fit our film into it.

Anyway, the Huyghe installation runs throughout the summer, and I highly recommend checking it out if you're in the area.

I'm making good progress on the 'Henry Lee' rewrite, nearing the sixty page mark. My intention with it was to cut the fat and strengthen the spine of the story, which I'm definitely doing -- entire scenes have fallen by the wayside more than once. I try to always remember the notion that films should not contain too many comings and goings; that you can often enter a scene in progress and leave before it's over, and the audience will fill in the blanks (conversely, it's said that a boring film is marked by too many doors opening and closing), and making cuts of this nature has become something of a game to me.

And yet this new version is already six pages longer than the last...but I ain't worrying about that.

June 4, 2004

I haven't managed to watch the 'Farenheit 9/11' trailer yet -- apparently, its web presence is still rather spotty, but I imagine Apple will have a better QT version on their site soon. In the meantime, in anticipation of its release three weeks from today, here are a few choice links I've recently been made aware of, by people on both sides of the political spectrum, the spirit of which are somewhat attuned to Moore's approach. Check out this, this, and, if those are too subtle for you, this one too.

UPDATE: Saw the trailer. That's some good marketing; it made me feel proud and upstanding -- like, yeah! We're making a stand! Then I felt a little guilty for letting a manipulative trailer get to me so quickly. All of Moore's usual (questionable) tactics seem to present and accounted for, but that doesn't mean the movie doesn't look fantastic and important, or that I won't be there to buy my ticket for the first show on opening day, even if I've already seen it in a press screening.

June 4, 2004

Shortly after that early morning 'Harry Potter' screening the day before yesterday, Curtis and I met up with Nick and Kara and we headed out for another camping trip, in spite of the many people warning us that a tornado-riddled storm was heading our way. It hit shortly after we set up our tent, and so we go to fall asleep to the beautiful sounds of a torrential downpour and heavy illumination from the interrupted bursts of lightining. In the morning we rented a canoe and set out over a lake; an hour in, for reasons we never quite figured out, we tipped over and almost lost our boat. So that was a lot of fun. Later we went rock climbing, which I actually used to be somewhat adept at, leading me to believe that I could scale some precipices without rope or harness. Which I did, although I had several moments of severe doubt, all at very high and precarious points. I was thinking about how my Eagle Scout brother, a died in the wool outdoorsman, would be terribly unimpressed by this so-called adventure, but consider it on a curve: for a bunch of urban vegetarian art fags to camp in a thunderstorm and capsize a boat and climb sheer cliffs is pretty impressive. Isn't it?

After the rock climbing, Curtis and I hightailed it back to Dallas to meet up with Yen and James for a technical test for our screening next week. The great news: it looks really good. Something must have been wrong with the projection we did at the Magnolia last month, because we were all quite pleased with how it looked and were relieved that we wouldn't have to apologize to peopleabout the image quality. The slightly less great news is that the museum's auditorium doesn't have the best accoustics; there's a tad bit too much echo. But I guess if it was good enough for Matthew Barney, then it's good enough for me.

I keep forgetting about the screening, actually, and I don't think I've posted the details here yet; so here's the e-mail invite we sent out:

~DEADROOM~ Hello friends, Without further ado, you are all cordially invited to the first public screening of the feature motion picture Deadroom on June 11 (the 5 month anniversary of our first day of principal photography) at 9:30pm. Make no misgivings, this is an art film. Thus, fittingly, the screening will occur at the Dallas Museum Of Art, in the Horchow Auditorium. JUNE 11 9:30 PM DALLAS MUSEUM OF ART (HORCHOW AUDITORIUM) www.deadroommovie.com This is not an official premiere, nor is it a gala event of any sort (feel free to dress down). Rather, the screening is being conducted for two reasons: to let the cast and crew see what they worked so hard on, and for us, the producers, to see what an objective audience thinks of the film. Consider it a test screening of sorts. What will it look like on a big screen? How will it sound? Will people fall laugh, cry, fall asleep? That's what we want to find out, and that's what we need your help in determining. Thus: feel free to pass on this invitation to anyone who you feel may be interested. We've got 300 seats to fill. Worried about ticket prices? Never fear, the event is free (although donations to our sponsor, the Asian Film Festival of Dallas, will be accepted at the door). Need more information on the film? Visit our website, www.deadroommovie.com. Will it be worth your while? We can guarantee only this: this is an independent film different from any you've seen before. Whether that's good or bad...well, that's up to you to decide. RSVP if you like, or simply show up. We hope to see you there!

Yen's pretty sure we'll have a packed house. We've got about 75 cast and crew members who may or may not come, and the othe 225 seats in the auditorium will be filled with objective viewers. We'll be handing out comment cards to those lucky individuals, although their comments will likely hold no sway over the film itself. As James has said many times, if people don't like it, it's probably because they're just ignorant.

June 2, 2004

All the lights just came on, after a six hour blackout. It was almost frightening to hear, after getting used to a silence so heavy and complete that it started to sound like something in its own right. I'd quickly become used to it, and to the darkness that was equally enveloping; reading by candelight, and knowing that there was little else to do than that, felt almost like a luxury, a subtle pleasure rarely affordable. Later, hearing the low hum of all my various devices come back to life was almost disappointing.

Hearing the fresh passage of air through the vents, however, was a relief, and had this blackout occurred during the day, you'd never hear me wax romantically about it.

Five hours until 'Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban.'

May 29, 2004

Some rough drafts. I had this concept in my head of a Francis Bacon-ish promotional image. It's getting there.

May 28, 2004

After a few more sessions of resyncing mixed-down dialogue last night and this afternoon, I finally (I'm very slow witted, you see) came to the realization that the drifts only occurred in particularly lengthy shots, and that they're approximately two frames off. Which reminded me of when I was batch capturing all the footage, and how all the digitized audio (none of which we used, so I didn't pay attention to it then) would fall out of sync by about two frames after a certain duration of time. Which, incidentally, is the same length of delay between the computer and whatever display device my Firewire cable is connected to, meaning that if I listened to that audio on my stereo system and watch the footage on my computer, it all matches up perfectly. I think there's some sort of corrolation between all of this, and perhaps it ties in somehow to the way that you lose sync when you're shooting film without a crystal-sync camera. In the future, I plan to either learn more about audio, or hold on no shots for longer than thirty seconds (or if someone knows the solution, feel free to e-mail me).

I'm relaying all of this incredibly boring information in lieu of other, more interesting things. There's some frustrating drama, some good things, some annoying things, something somewhat cool that's 99.9% bound to happen -- but of course, my lips are sealed.

Movies I saw today: 'The Day After Tomorrow' has cool effects, and it was fun seeing it with a primarily Hispanic audience, who must have felt some sort of vindication at a certain point, but it's ultimately forgettable. 'Shrek 2' is notable for its contributions to the financial well-being of Tom Waits and Nick Cave, whose songs grace the soundtrack (and, on screen, issue forth from the mouth of a balladeering Captain Hook), but is also forgettable. 'How To Draw A Bunny,' however, is not in any way forgettable. It's a documentary about the underground artist Ray Johnson, who killed himself in 1995 as the grand finale to his performance art career. Johnson is a fascinating, amazing, intriguing, mystifying subject: the type of guy, says on of his peers, that everyone else took mass amounts of drugs to reach the level of. His work, too, is quite stunning, particularly his series of 27 portraits of one man whose silhouette provided the foundation for a fascinating process of both construction and deconstruction. And in this day and age of e-mail, it was almost shocking -- and quite inspiring -- to see how he Johnson used the postal service to distribute his artwork. Wonderful, too, were the glimpses of the bohemian artist lifestyle in NYC in the fifties and early sixties. It seemed too good to be true -- spending fifty bucks a month for rent, not worrying about food or any other amenities, and just creating art, day in and day out.

May 27, 2004

It's been exactly one month since I put 'Looking For Love' on Triggerstreet. So far, it's been viewed 116 times and 15 reviews have been written, most of them raves and none of them negative. I figure that's pretty good; that people are seeing it and enjoying it so much is enough to make me happy. In addition, a gentleman named Josh Smith in NYC wrote to ask if he could screen it as part of a horror anthology in which his own film, 'A Feast Of Souls' (which I've seen the trailer for, and which looks sufficiently creepy as hell), will be premiering. Thus, next week, you can see 'LFL' on the big screen in the heart of Manhattan. The details:

To extinguish the bad mood I was in last night, which mass amounts of exercise did not dispel (going running at 2am and imagining that zombies are chasing you is actually pretty scary, though), I watched 'Reality Bites,' which I've had sitting on my shelf for ages but had never seen; I wish I had seen it eight years ago, when I would have inevitably developed some sort of deep connection to it and not immediately seen through it. But it did raise my spirits enough so that when I fell asleep, I had a totally awesome dream about seeing an advance copy of'Star Wars: Episode III.'

May 26, 2004

Indiewire, in providing a recap of the films that didn't get as much attention at Cannes, provides the first review (that I've found, at least) of David Gordon Green's new movie, 'Undertow.'

Also, this conversation reported by Roger Ebert concerning Irma P. Hall's special jury prize for acting in 'The Ladykillers' is too good not mention. I imagine its indicative of something, too.

"We were thinking of just going ahead and titling the prize the Force of Nature Award," said actress Tilda Swinton, a jury member.

"I left my wallet in El Segundo!" Tarantino declared, in a passable Irma P. Hall imitation.

"He's been talking in her voice for the last three days," said Swinton.

May 25, 2004

James and Amy and I went to see a screening of the Slamdance/SXSW hit 'Dear Pillow.' It was a really good movie; its very difficult subject matter (remember L.I.E.?) was handled with both sensitivity and surprising humor, and the acting was top notch. It was shot on the Panasonic DVX-100 (24p miniDV), and it looked great on the big screen (digitally projected). The writer/director, Bryan Poyser, was there, and he broke the rules and revealed in the Q & A that the film cost under ten thousand to make. They hadn't even finished making it this time last year, and now, judging by the website and the director's blog, it's slowly but surely getting out there. Bryan said he's even considering following Greg Pak's example and releasing it across the country himself. So if it plays near you, I'd highly recommend seeing it. It's not perfect (what film made for under ten thousand is?), but it's definitely worth your time (unless you have no tolerance for blue language, in which case you won't last past the first minute).

I discovered this evening, via a sharp poking sensation on the roof of my mouth, that the top ball on the barbell in my tongue had somehow come off and, presumably, slipped down my throat. I've had that same piece of stainless steel in my tongue for six years, so getting it replaced (which I promptly did) was sort of like a major turning point. Like when 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer' went off the air last year. I had the urge last night to get more piercings done (or re-done, to be exact), although I think it's just because I've been feeling really indistinctive lately.

Yen and James and I exchanged slightly taught e-mails today about our different expectations regarding the future of our film. I'm trying to remain cautious, to avoid disappointment; Yen's being positive, to keep up morale; and James posits that he doesn't give a shit because he knows the movie's good and that's all that matters. I think our different perspectives are complimentary, which is helpful (Nick would have doubtlessly chimed in if his computer hadn't crashed for the eighteen-millionth time). In the end, we're all hoping for the best in our different ways, and aside from doing everything we can for the film, whether its received well or not is out of our hands.

Although I guess doing everything we can, when you think about it, is actually an awful lot.

May 23, 2004

Cannes being over, Moore having won (to the cautious joy of us leftists), 2046 having won nothing and been called a colossal failure by someone who I don't necessarily trust in this instance, I will now return to coverage of my own movies.

Actually, I won't. I'm about to sit down and watch one of the two Jarmusch films I haven't seen -- 'Mystery Train,' courtsey of James. And in the spirit of that, here's something I've been meaning to post.

Rule #1: There are no rules. There are as many ways to make a film as there are potential filmmakers. ItÕs an open form. Anyway, I would personally never presume to tell anyone else what to do or how to do anything. To me that's like telling someone else what their religious beliefs should be. Fuck that. That's against my personal philosophy -- more of a code than a set of "rules." Therefore, disregard the "rules" you are presently reading, and instead consider them to be merely notes to myself. One should make one's own "notes" because there is no one way to do anything. If anyone tells you there is only one way, their way, get as far away from them as possible, both physically and philosophically.

Rule #2: Don't let the fuckers get ya. They can either help you, or not help you, but they can't stop you. People who finance films, distribute films, promote films and exhibit films are not filmmakers. They are not interested in letting filmmakers define and dictate the way they do their business, so filmmakers should have no interest in allowing them to dictate the way a film is made. Carry a gun if necessary. Also, avoid sycophants at all costs. There are always people around who only want to be involved in filmmaking to get rich, get famous, or get laid. Generally, they know as much about filmmaking as George W. Bush knows about hand-to-hand combat.

Rule #3: The production is there to serve the film. The film is not there to serve the production. Unfortunately, in the world of filmmaking this is almost universally backwards. The film is not being made to serve the budget, the schedule, or the resumes of those involved. Filmmakers who don't understand this should be hung from their ankles and asked why the sky appears to be upside down.

Rule #4: Filmmaking is a collaborative process. You get the chance to work with others whose minds and ideas may be stronger than your own. Make sure they remain focused on their own function and not someone else's job, or you'll have a big mess. But treat all collaborators as equals and with respect. A production assistant who is holding back traffic so the crew can get a shot is no less important than the actors in the scene, the director of photography, the production designer or the director. Hierarchy is for those whose egos are inflated or out of control, or for people in the military. Those with whom you choose to collaborate, if you make good choices, can elevate the quality and content of your film to a much higher plane than any one mind could imagine on its own. If you don't want to work with other people, go paint a painting or write a book. (And if you want to be a fucking dictator, I guess these days you just have to go into politics...).

Rule #5: Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don't bother concealing your thievery -- celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from -- it's where you take them to."

May 21, 2004

I finished the first draft of a new screenplay last night. It's called 'Henry Lee' and its derived, of course, from the Nick Cave/PJ Harvey song. The liner notes of Murder Ballads say that it is of folk origins, and while my research has turned up a handful of variations and extended versions (including a version called 'Love Henry' which Bob Dylan covered), I've found nothing as to the history behind it -- so I've taken the clean slate approach. I set the story in 1871, in a small town in some rural part of America -- I'd like to say it's a Western, but depending on my eventual geographic decision, it might not qualify.

It's 121 pages at the moment, and it's a Frankenstein's monster of a script. I forced myself not to make any revisions whatsoever while writing, and thus the whole thing is consistently changing -- a character dies twice, a third person narrator randomly appears near the end, events which haven't occurred are referred to, character's occupations and even names change from one page to the next. So now I've got to go back to the beginning and justify and align the whole thing.

But I'm pleased with it, even at this disorienting stage; the writing experience was more of a challenge then before, what with the research and the forced restrictions that were at painful odds with my OCD tendencies, but I've relished it. My only fear about it, content-wise, is that I've overcomplicated something that's very simple. I'll take a break from it for a day or two, and then I'll find out.

Meanwhile, in regards to Canne: the first review of 2046 is at the Guardian (I'd link to Variety's, too, but you need to be a subscriber to read it -- and anyway, I imagine word will be out everywhere by tomorrow).

May 20, 2004

This ties in to my last post about sex in movies: 'The Brown Bunny' is getting released in North America in August!

The distributor says: "Vincent Gallo has made a hauntingly beautiful film with one of the frankest portrayals of sex that I have ever seen in the cinema and a truly magnificent and fearless performance by the most interesting actress in American Cinema -- Chlo‘ Sevigny. Like all great art, we expect it to be hotly debated and discussed for many years to come. It is the rare film that I think will grow in esteem over time and serve as an inspiration to young filmmakers around the world."

Gallos's response: "I am not an artist."

Read the whole story at Indiwire, which also reports that a last minute print of '2046' was rushed to Cannes and screened this evening, and that the response was...well, I think it's too soon for any sort of consensus.

I didn't set out to do this Cannes coverage, but all this interesting stuff keeps popping up.

May 20, 2004

Michael Winterbottom already had another film in the can ('Code 46') when his previous one ('In This World') premiered in the states last fall, and now he's got an even newer one premiering at Canne this week, and it sounds intriguing, to say the least. It's called 'Nine Songs' and you can read about it here, in the Guardian article from which this quote was derived.

"I had been thinking for a while about the fact that most cinematic love stories miss out on the physical relationship, and if it is indicated at all everyone knows it is fake. Books deal explicitly with sex, as they do with any other subject. Cinema has been extremely conservative and prudish. I wanted to go to the opposite extreme and show a relationship only through sex. Part of the point of making the film was to say, 'What's wrong with showing sex?'"

The film revolves around a young couple in London, Matt and his American girlfriend Lisa. The sex scenes, which occupy more than half of the film, are intercut with scenes of bands playing, including Franz Ferdinand, the Dandy Warhols, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Super Furry Animals. The story is framed by shots of Matt flying over the desolate plains of Antarctica, as he remembers the relationship from afar.

For the record, my presupposition is that, as long as the intent is pure -- as long as the filmmaker isn't making the film for viewers to 'get off' to, but purports to have a legitimate reason for including actual sex -- then the film can't be classified as pornography. Of course, I have yet to see a good film that involves any real intercourse (unless you count brief cutaways in 'The Piano Teacher' and 'Cremaster 2'), but I think it might be able to be done right -- although it's a very tough line. Is there a reason for it? Would I look at 'The Dreamers' any differently if I learned that the sex in it was in fact unsimulated?

May 19, 2004

Richard Kelly's finally got a new movie far enough into development that it has a website, and what a lovely website it is: mysterious promotional motives aside, it is, in its own right, some of the best online art I've seen in a while.

Also, Wong Kar Wai was supposed to present his long awaited '2046' to the press at Cannes today, but guess what? It's still not done. In the meantime, a few stills are available, which I believe you can find by following some links at Yen's site. They're real pretty like.

May 18, 2004

I meant to update this yesterday, but throughout the day my computer was engaged with such hefty amounts of rendering that I just couldn't bare to force it to process more information. I anthropomorphize my technology way too much; I like to let it take power naps and such. The good thing about rendering, though, as I've probably said before, is that it gives me an opportunity to read even more.

While working on various 'Deadroom' touch ups, I had a brief outburst of manical frustration, exacerbated by the rapidly climbing Texas heat, and briefly felt rather hopeless about the whole movie for the first time since that night in New Mexico where the failure of one transition, I felt, threatened to undo the entire movie. Last night, the factors were: I had to resync a few scenes to the new soundtrack, since the heavy mixing in certain scenes resulted in an approximately 3-frame drift. While doing that, I accidentally moved one video track without selecting the one above it as well, resulting in a mix-match of A/B footage that took me forever to realign properly. Then I took a break to chat with Jim and he humorously assured me that 'Deadroom' wouldn never recoup it's budget -- sure, I'm always saying that, but it doesn't mean I want to hear it. Finally, I re-did some of the credits in FCP's Title3D, and for the first time, I really understood what 'optimized for G5' means.

By 5 AM, everything was fixed, and I was able to focus on good things, like the fact-checking conversation with a reporter in NY earlier that day (and, unrelated to the movie, the Pepsi truck settlement that will keep me happily unemployed throughout the summer if I continue to not live things up too much). My pesimism has regained its optimistic surface, and this morning, updated DVDs were encoded and shipped off to whatever terrible fate may await them.

Also occuring last night was my brother's arrival for his summer sojourn from college out East; he walked in just in time to catch a few minutes of the film while I was checking the audio sync. Last semester, he left a day or so before we started shooting, and this seemingly short span of time bewteen then and now impresses upon me not that we made this movie in an incredibly short amount of time but that I could probably have had a degree by now, in addition to most of the other accomplishments I've made, if I really strived for it. I waste way too much time.

Oddly, I don't consider this blog a waste of time.

May 14, 2004

Greg Pak Interview

Robot Stories opens in Dallas today, and I took part in the round table (or circle of couches, in this case) interview with director Greg Pak. Being that I'm not a professional reporter, or even a competent amateur, I didn't have one of those handy tape recorders that everyone else did -- I brought Yen's little one-chip miniDV camera (which he's graciously let me hang onto throughout the post-production of 'Deadroom,') but there wasn't a place to plug it in. So here, based upon my erratic notes, is the interview-by-way-of-mass-paraphrasing, augmented far more precisely by a few follow up questions I asked via e-mail.

PART ONE

ON WHAT HE DID BEFORE ROBOT STORIES: Made short films for ten years (ten years!) after graduating from NYU (after a stint studying poli-sci at Yale and history at Oxford). He recommended having a feature screenplay to back up one's short films. Doesn't everyone?
ON MAKING AN ANTHOLOGY FILM: It's a big challenge with anthologies to make each story distinctive enough: to make them "part of the whole story, so each story is essential to the impact of the film."
HIS FAVORITE SEGMENTS OF THE FILM: 'The Robot Fixer' is is the one that'll probably make him cry in 25 years, but 'The Robot Worker' which was the "runt of the litter" and took the most work in editing to get right, is the one he feels the most affinity towards (speaking of which, he did write the lead role in it for himself, as an acting follow-up to his performance in his high school production of Macbeth).
ON MAKING A SCI-FI FILM WITH FEW TECHNOLOGICAL RESOURCES: "I took comfort from the stories about the making of Jaws, although (we were) clearly on a smaller scale."
ON THE BUDGET: Under a million (that's what everyone says).
ON THE PRODUCTION: The first day of production involved the ending of 'The Robot Fixer,' which was being shot in Central Park. It began to rain; they kept shooting, and it ended up being a beautiful final touch. "Things that seem disastrous on set can actually be amazing." Then second day of production was 9/11. Every day was plagued by some "crazy logistical thing," but it forced them to focus on essential moments rather than getting set-up that might have initially been planned.
ON DISTRIBUTION: From pre-production to finished print, it took 9 months to make the film. It premiered at the Hamptons Film Festival in the fall of 2002 and subsequently played at about 60 festivals over the next two years. There were a few lowball (with little to no advance) offers from distributors, but "in the end, I couldn't make those deals. for financial reasons...I had too many filmmaker friends who signed those kind of deals and never saw a dime." Greg paired with publicity/booking agent Sasha Berman and set out to release the film himself, beginning with a few art houses in good markets which had hosted the film at festivals and specifically expressed interest in showing it again, with or without a distributor.
ON WATCHING THE FILM AT FESTIVALS: "The first 20 times I watched the whole thing," after which intermittent peaks into the theater sufficed.
ON THE OPPORTUNITIES THE SUCCESS OF THE FILM HAS PROVIDED HIM: "I'm paying rent."

PART TWO (via e-mail)

What model camera did you use to shoot the film? Any technical specs (progressive scan, aspect ratio, etc.)? Any other equipment or lack thereof of note?
Sony DSR-500, DVCAM, PAL. Here's an article I wrote about the tape-to-film process, which says something about how we shot. http://www.gregpak.com/filmhelp/archives/000030.html.
Did you have film prints made for the festivals, or was that step relegated to the distribution phase? How many prints did you make for distribution? Are you happy with the transfer?
I'd made sure to budget from the beginning for a tape-to-film transfer and for film prints for festivals. I always knew the film needed to be seen on film -- that was the final step in giving the picture the organic look we wanted. We have a total of six prints right now for our theatrical distribution. I'm VERY happy with the transfer. Swiss Effects did it -- here's an article about the process: http://www.gregpak.com/filmhelp/archives/000030.html/
Following the city-by-city progress via your mailing list, it seems that the film's been pretty consistently successful. Have there been any drawbacks (aside from being financially straining)? Would you recommend this distribution method to other low-budget filmmakers -- do the ends justify the means?
The biggest drawback is that self-distribution seems to require nearly constant travel. I've been on the road with the film essentially for three months now. Makes it very, very hard to have a normal life. But I have no regrets about doing this -- it's essential for the film to reach its full potential and for me to take the next steps in building my career.
What are some movies/music/art you find inspiration in?
My all time favorite films include "Seven Samurai," "Sunset Boulevard," "Some Like It Hot," "Psycho," "Jaws," "A Night at the Opera"... Recent films I loved include "Yi Yi" and "You Can Count on Me." But my immediate inspirations tend to change depending on what I happen to be working on at the time. I've been working on an adaptation of a memoir from the 1960s for Antidote Films -- and I've drawn a lot of inspiration from a lot of great music from that time period. So my current musical faves include the Chambers Brothers and Blood Sweat and Tears. Writing and directing "Robot Stories" has gotten me back into reading science fiction novels -- my current fave is Greg Bear.

And that's that...hopefully, you found that interesting/inspiring/etc. Next time Again, I highly recommend visiting Greg's site(s), and I highly recommend seeing his film (particularly tonight, in Dallas, since Greg will be at all the showings and there will be receptions afterwards at a nearby sushi bar, with, reportedly, free sushi, which I can't endorse, but I can endorse you going for the movie and hanging out).

Speaking of the Hamptons Film Festival...we were supposed to submit to that today. We're a little behind on a few things.

May 13, 2004

MARVELOUS THINGS....this new Loretta Lynn album is amazing / John Waters' new movie got an NC-17 (don't drop the ball, New Line!) / Mexican Air Force chases UFOS (with photos) / James updated his website with 62 new words!

I just this evening discovered that I suffer from hypnagogic sleep paralysis disorder. It's been happening to me with increasing frequency and hallucinatory intensity over the past few years; I related one of the more recent (but less terrifying) incidents a few months back, right after Christmas. I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that the supernatural is not involved; at least now I know, but I wonder if I'll be able to remember that the next time it happens.

May 12, 2004

I wonder how many readers of Jane Magazine appreciate exactly how lucky they are to get spiritual advice from David Lynch.

More unappreciation: a handful of people walked out of the hardly-packed screening of 'Coffee and Cigarettes' last night. Most of them waited for the scene with the RZA and GZA and Bill Murray, and then promptly left when that was over. They missed the best scene in the film, but I guess it was all black and white to them anyway. They'll be the same people walking out of 'Deadroom' eventually, too, although they probably won't last nearly as long.

I almost started writing about the lovely final budget calculations Chris delivered to us today, but then I remembered that rule of thumb about not mentioning actual expenses. It hurts to think about numbers, anyway. The summer heat is setting in with a thick cloud of humidity, and since I don't have the air conditioning turned on yet, I feel like I'm stuck in a swamp. So does this new thing I'm writing. So does everything political (who else didn't think it would be possible to dislike Rush Limbaugh even more until yesterday?).

What's cooler, Friendster or Suicide Girls? If Suicide Girls didn't cost money, the answer might be more obvious.

May 10, 2004

I just saw the most stunning film so far this year: 'Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...And Spring.' I had heard it was good, but knew next to nothing about it when I sat down in a nearly empty theater tonight to see it. I left two hours later with my mind sufficiently expanded. My advice is to skip my review and just go see it for yourself.

On the subject of Asian films: I finally saw Robot Stories last week. Perhaps I'm just being desperately narcisistic, but I thought it was quite similar to 'Deadroom' in many ways (four stories, each using the fantastic as the pivot upon which the the very human elements turn), and the miniDV transfer looked gorgeous. The film is finding great success in its grass roots distribution campaign (more info at the official site); if it hasn't come to a theater near you yet, make sure you see it when it does.

May 9, 2004

I ignored 'Deadroom' and everything else film-releated over these past few days and went camping with the rest of the Chaotic Cong crew to celebrate Elli Heath's birthday. We went to Glen Rose State Park, known for its riverbed full of fossilized dinosaur tracks. I used to think I had outgrown camping by the end of my preadolescent years, when the amnenities of modern life became far more important to me than whatever wilderness could offer, but my hunger of late for new experiences can sometimes outshadow my love of air conditioning and clean clothes.

The hiking and mountain biking and snakes and campfires and river fording and all that were terrific; the best part, though, was last night, when Nick and Cammi and I stayed up until five in the morning and went running through expansive meadows that were rolling with mist like the moors of Ireland under the blue light of a half moon and a multitude of stars that city folk like myself sometimes forget exists. We'd been talking of those deep things that friends usually talk about while consuming lots of alochol, and the emotive nature of that, combined with the pure adrenaline rush of that headlong plunge into darkness and dew drops, transfigured into one of those tangible, kinetic memories that is forever affixed in your brain.

Wow, that is one unwieldly description of something very simple. Rather than fix it, I'm going let this be and crash headlong into my (suddenly luxurious) bed.

May 7, 2004

There's a brand new DVD out of Nick Cave's music videos; buy it, now, primarily for the extrordinary video to Henry Lee, his duet with PJ Harvey (pictured). It's a one take affair, and the chemistry between the two of them will set you afire.

Related: Polly Jean's new single.

May 6, 2004

I had to get up early yesterday to go to Jury Duty, where I waited for eight hours before being (thankfully) eliminated, due, I think, to my being too forgiving to ruin a person's life due to their making an accident. At one point I dozed off, since I had been up till five the night before playing around with my most recent software acquistion: Shake, which unlike most really hefty programs, has a very friendly interface -- at least so far (and it has a technical manual written with a sense of humor; there needs to be a lot more of those). Anyway, when I dozed off, I dreamed that I was back home doing some effects work, and when I woke up the girl sitting next to me asked me if I had a nice nap. I tried to explain to her that I was dreaming about cross fades.

The defense lawyer at one point asked me a question about testimonies and in doing so referred to my being a filmmaker, when resulted in a few people asking me about it during the recess: there was this one very sweet and very pregnant girl reading a book about God's Divine Plan who instantly knew what I was talking about when I said I made artsy movies. She was really nice and encouraging. There was another older gentleman who caught up with me while I was leaving at the end of the day to ask me what sort of movies I made, and he told me about how he built pipe organs. I wish I could have talked to him earlier, because he was really cool. I told him how I went to a pipe organ concert in Rome a few years back and he was impressed.

Shortly afterwards, Nick and James and I met up with at Yen's place to have a teleconference with a marketing consultant in LA. He said basically everything I already knew, which was that 'Deadroom' was going to be a hard sell and that getting into big festivals wasn't necessarily a trip down easy street. No surprise there. What was really great was that he actually seemed to honestly like the movie; he watched it with no prior knowledge of it or of any of us, and he got everything that I was afraid people wouldn't get, and he understood the concept of it on exactly the right level. That's what I want to hear right now; I need people to corroborate my own opinion of the movie.

Just to put a pop culture context on this post: 'Friends' aired its last episode tonight, and I did end up watching it. It was kind of boring, but I guess it could have been worse.

May 3, 2004

So now we arrive at the chapter entitled Sound Mixing, pt. 2.

In which we had to attend to the following nitpicky list of odds and ends:

Bookend 1: I think the opening music should be a little bit louder during the color fades...it should really fill audiences ear drums.
SECTION 1
Room1: turn down ambience
Room 3: Move the first block of dialogue 4 FRAMES FORWARD
Room 4: check sync, but I think its good
Room 2: lower music a bit once they start talking. When Harry sits down, there's a mic brush sound.
SECTION 2
Room 1: Ambience needs to drop completely in the Viviano monologue; a good cue point would be when she says "His name was Viviano."
Room 3: Move the first block of dialogue 5 FRAMES FORWARD to adjust sync
Room 2: Turn down high frequency at beginning, and then lose it completely fairly quickly. It return when Layton says 'listen Kate.'
SECTION 3
Room 2: Turn music down slightly, check to see if Kelly's clipping can be fixed.
SECTION 4
Room 1: I think the ambience is too loud in this one.
Room 3: Lose music. Adjust ambient fade-out.
Room 2: More microphone brushing; also, some potential clipping at the end of lines, due to close cutting.
SECTION 5
Room 1: Ambience needs to come in far more gradually. Piano excerpts should be quieter, more subtle.
Room 3: Music is unnecessary in this section as well. Consider ambience extended all the way from James' room.
Room 4: Clip on Lydia's line 'Are you happy?'
Room 2: If piano music is kept, it needs to be gone by the time Harry says 'syllable in mine.' Comes back in a bit when she talks about needing to be happy.
SECTION 6
Room 4: Dialogue too quiet after watermelon.
Room 3: Lower music. One 'Tim' is missing from Grant's line (will bring CD in case its missing)
Room 1: Bring in ambience FAR MORE GRADUALLY, especially the slowed down violin hum. It should peak at about the time she (deleted for spoilers). Amplify sound of table. Add foley of chairs. Jucify the hand foley.
SECTION 7
Room 2: Turn down ambience once color shift occurs. Fade it out as music comes in. Turn music up ever so slightly if necessary.
Room 4: Lose the excess sound at the end (jelly beans, etc.)
Bookend 2: Turn down music maybe 1 or 2 decibels.

Nick, Yen and I met up with Brad at the studio (poorly represented in the grainy picture above) and plowed through all of these in about six hours. Our whims have been met, and the sound is now perfect.

One of the problems we didn't think we'd be able to fix is Kelly's vocal clipping, which occurs when she really starts yelling in one scene. However, Brad, just this past weekend, got a new two thousand dollar ProTools plug-in, which removed the clips and intuitively filled in the holes left behind in her voice. It's amazing. He told us that there are 30 Gs worth of plug-ins at work on our mix; our soundtrack is worth more than the movie itself. There's also an awesome new sound effect we added that I wish I had an mP3 of: its effectively buried in the mix, but at full volume you can't tell if it's from a horror film or a porn. It's hilarious.

Yen wasn't able to be there the whole time, and so he told me I needed to be really anal about everything (he usually takes care of that himself). I think I succeeded; I was suitably demanding at certain times, and I didn't ever settle for less. It was good practice for the next time I'm on a film set.

I also videotaped a lot of the session: we now have more behind the scenes footage of the mixing process than of the actual production.

Yen gave me a copy of the 'Eternal Sunshine' soundtrack as we were leaving, which I'm listening to right now. If you don't have a friend of your own who's that cool, buy it yourself, because I would have too if I'd known exactly how beautiful it was (and had money).

May 2, 2004

Have you ever written a really great scene in which a woman picks up a jar of ink and dumps it on her head and lets it run down the side of her face and pool at the hollow point at the bottom of her neck, and then realized it's cool but just too out there to work for your screenplay? I sure have.

Time for a new link: a Down Under filmmaker I've become aquainted keeps a pretty swell online journal, not too dissimilar from this one. Check out the great essaay in the last entry of the March archives.

I just downloaded David Lynch's Playstation 2 commercial from Limewire. It's hilarious and awesome. I love good commercials; so did Stanley Kubrick, who thought they were models of efficient storytelling. The moral of this story is: I'll gladly whore my creativity to capitalism, as long as the creativity part stay intact.

May 1, 2004

It's cold enough to be November today, cold enough to listen to Tori Amos records like the 1999 version of me, and cold enough to make me mad that this is the last of this weather, instead of the beginning.

April 30, 2004

I've been taking steps towards doing something I really hate doing: research. It's for a new writing project, and I have touched thus far on a history of the printing press, the constituents of iron gall ink, the development of stethoscopes, the weather patterns of Ireland, a brief history of the same, the structure of schoolhouses in the nineteeth century and classical poetry; I'm in need of other details I haven't even thought to look for yet, and one monster I'm slightly afraid of: introducing myself to Gaelic. Learning about the printing presses has been my favorite part so far.

This evening, when I intended to be working on this thing, I picked up my copy of Moore/Campbell's From Hell to take a gander at the visual approach, and ended up reading it for a good hour or so. If any of you folks have only seen the movie, or haven't seen the movie at all and don't care to, you should really pick this masterpiece up. Its sheer exhaustiveness is staggering; plus, its full of all sorts of cheery Freemasonic details. If you start it and can put it down, I'll eat my shoe.

What I need to be doing is finalizing our list of adjustments to the'Deadroom' audio mix, which we'll be doing shortly. I'm really having trouble devoting my attention to it at the moment; but I think we'll have a new game plan soon that'll give us all the jolt of direction we need; or, at least, that I need.

Anyone else going to see 'Mean Girls' this weekend?

April 28, 2004

The new issue of Entertainment Weekly includes the summer movie preview, and in reading it I realized that, now that 'Sky Captain' has moved to the fall, I'm eagerly awaiting not a single tentpole release: sure, I'll be there opening day for the Harry Potter and Spiderman sequels, and I'll probably see everything else (although I do think I'll let this 'Van Helsing' press screening pass go to waste), but my anticipation level for the blockbuster season is somewhere slightly below median.

Oh wait -- I forgot about 'Anchorman!'

Aside from the splendiferousness of Will Ferrell, I'm far more enticed by the summer CD releases: from PJ Harvey, especially, and also from The Cure and perhaps even that sullen girl whose third album I've been anticipating for so long that I've just about forgotten about it now.

I finished 'The Bell Jar' in a day or so; all emotional reactions related to my own melodramatic tendencies aside, the book is, technically, at least to my likings, mostly mediocre, with many marks of precursory literary skill: had Plath not killed herself, I'm sure she would have written a great novel (I make this critique knowing next to nothing of her poetry). However, since it was essentially an autobiography, the knowledge that she did kill herself makes the book better than it is.

Now I've started Flaubert's Madame Bovary, which, given the subject matter, I'm surprised I've never attempted to read before.

The books I went to Half Price Books to procure were not to be had; instead, I bought Michel Ciment's Kubrick: The Definitive Edition, which is the most insightful book I've read on him yet (a sentiment echoed on the dust jacket by Scorsese and Joel Coen, among others), mainly because so much of it is made up of rare interviews with the man himself (despite his involvement with the 'Visual Analysis' book, his voice was absent from it). The first thing I saw when I opened it was this song, written by Scatman Crothers on the set of 'The Shining.'

There's a man lives in London town,
Makes movies, he's world renowned,
Yes, he's really got the fame,
Stanley Kubrick is his name.
He does it all, he does it all,
Stanley does it all...
He's a man who looks ahead
To make you think he raised the dead
And he cuts all his flicks.
He's a genius with his tricks.
He does it all, he does it all
I'm telling y'all, Stanley does it all.

April 27, 2004

After reading this model of understatement, I joined the surging masses of Guardian readers/indie filmmakers and went to Triggerstreet.com, where I had actually signed up for membership over a year ago and then never once returned. Negotiating the uploading of my own film to the site was difficult, thanks to my accursed 56k modem; it took me a while to download the requisite two films for review, and then took me even longer to upload the film of my own that I figured benefits the most from online viewing ('Looking For Love'). But it's up there now; let the success story begin!

I actually really enjoy giving people constructive criticism...if the site didn't limit you to two reviews every 24 hours, I'd be spending tons of time downloading and critiquing shorts. As for scripts, I just don't have that kind of time; I only give feedback if people specifically ask for them.

Speaking of feedback, a fellow administrator at Xixax.com watched 'Honey' recently and provided the following:

ghostboy...

i don't know why, but i wish a was a woman with vagina and a uterus, so i could fuck the shit out of your cock and house your babies.

Another friend of mine from that site sent me an all-inclusive, chronological collection of Souxie Soux's musical repertoire; between that and my rediscovery of my old Queen records (by records, I mean CDs), I'm feeling fantastically retro.

April 26, 2004

I just engaged in an exercise in complete futility: trying to write and watching 'Pulp Fiction.' It just doesn't work.

There was another midnight screening at the Magnolia last night...our movie. We did a tech screening just to see how it looked on the big screen, and I must say, it's nice to have such a great art house theater accessible to us for things like this. Otherwise, we wouldn't have known until too late that miniDV, no matter how masterfully photographed it may be, still looks like crap on a big screen.

Well, it's not really crap. I'll put it this way: on a small screen, we could say 'Deadroom' was shot on HD, and no one would be the wiser; projected on the big screen, it looks like it is what it is, which is very well shot miniDV, with its 720 lines of horizontal resolution expaneded to fit the 1024 lines of the projector.

The great news? It sounds even better in a movie theater than it did in the mixing studio.

April 23, 2004

I spent most of the day yesterday in the movie theater, first watching the Icelandic drama Noi, then playing catch-up with 'Intermission,' and finally, despite my pounding caffeine headache, catching a last minute advance screening of I'm Not Scared. I then went home and went to sleep; next time, I'll remember to buy coffee in between screenings.

Today I woke up and went out for my morning run, and caught the scent of some spring flower that brought about a tinge of recognitive misery (my estrogen levels might be higher than usual at the moment, as I'm entrenched in Sylvia Plath's 'The Bell Jar').

Any personal unrest, however, can be countered with the small but triumphant development with our film; as is my habit, I won't reveal what it is until after the fact, which in this case is about two months away; but it's something good (not quite as good as distribution, but a million times better than, say, a screening, which, for the sake of our cast and crew, we've already set up, and which will occur on June 11).

I went to a midnight screening of 'Five Easy Pieces' at the Magnolia tonight, and something about midnight movies in the middle of the week screws up your internal clock -- or screws it up even more, in the case of my already lapsing sense of time. Anyway, I loved the movie, but this is the post in which I'm supposed to talk about:

Last night Yen and I went to pick up the 'Deadroom' sound mix from Brad -- well, we were supposed to just pick it up, but we ended up spending about five hours at the studio. We spent some time reconstructing one of Nick's scenes from the original DAT tape, since there was a minor transfer error in the OMF file for that scene, and we also ended up listening to the entire movie, which was actually quite exciting -- Brad really did some amazing work on the sound, and everything sounds so rich and textured now that it's like listening to a new film; even the silence has depth to it now (of course, no one will ever know that except us). At one point, he played us the original audio, then clicked on a filter and let us hear his mix, and the difference was astounding (and also expensive -- he primarily used a ProTools plug-in that costs $5000). He has an artist's touch when it comes to sound, which is great because I don't -- I hate working on it, in the limited capacity that I can with the software I have (note: I need Pro Tools), but I love sitting over his shoulder and watching him mold our competent audio recordings into a masterpiece of accoustic vibrations. I felt like a director again, rather than an editor.

I'm so glad we paid as much attention to sound as we did, because it's really going to help sell the movie; it's said that audiences can be willing to look past a bad picture, but bad sound is unforgivable. We, however, have great sound (which those who've seen our previous films know is a brand new development), and I'd encourage all indie filmmakers to fork over the bucks required to ensure quality audio. Whoa, I came dangerously close to soap-boxing there.

So anyway, now the audio has been returned to the video files on my computer, DVDs have been burnt and sent off to a few places we needed to send them, and sometime in the next couple of weeks we'll go back to the studio and make a few more changes that we decided to make after the files were exported last night.

And Yen and I agreed last night that if the movie never goes anywhere as a movie, we'll at least have a really smashing radio drama on our hands.

Back to 'Five Easy Pieces.' It's the kind of movie that's exactly my cup of tea, to put it simply. I almost felt like I'd seen it before; this is likely due to it being one of the few films I can think of that my dad loved (or loves? I'll have to ask him). In memories stretching as far back as I can remember, he'd regale me and my brothers with the chicken sandwich scene, although he would change the punch line from 'hold it between your knees' to 'throw it out the window.' It made more sense to us that way, and we thought it was quite hilarious.

April 18, 2004

Last night, before going to see a midnight show of 'Cannibal: The Musical' with James and the rest of that crew, I finished one of the best books I've read in a long time -- or rather, so as not to risk demeaning Graham Greene's exquisite writing -- one of the most personally effecting books I've read in a long time: Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides, who previously wrote The Virgin Suicides, (which I've been reading incrementally at parties at Nick's house, although now I'm bound to finish it). This book is an epic, generation spanning tale of a family and the genetic defect that eventually manifests in the body of its narrator, who is a hermaphrodite. Around page 400, I had to set the book down on my lap and lean back in my chair...and just smile, both excited and exilerated by how completely it had taken hold of me; Eugenides is the kind of author whose sentences spread like wild shoots across the page, daring you to find a fault with their nearly acrobatic style and at the same time making you wonder how he can yet manage to so succinctly nail...well,you.

Here's a quote from an interview with Eugenides that scratches the surface of what I loved about it:

If I were an emotion, I would be longing. That is a kind of human emotion that's very clear to me, and very strong from an early age, as perhaps it is in everyone. Certainly those are easy passages - or easier passages - for me to write.

It just came out in paperback, so I'd strongly recommend picking it up. It's a Pulitzer Prize winner, if that means anything to you -- it doesn't to me, but I guess it lumps it in with other post-millenial winners like Chabon's The Adventures Of Kavalier and Clay, which was phenomenal, despite a slightly (to me) unsatisfying ending. An ending is a difficult thing, of course; in this case, Eugenides nails it. It's also a very cinematic novel, and so of course, in reading it, I was adapting it in my head, and now I've got a new dream project.

Related: The Intersex Society Of North America.

April 18, 2004

The body of a missing girl in North Dakota was found recently, and the local Sheriff sobbed as he reported the news.

I mention this here not because I have anything to say about it, or add to it; but because it's the kind of thing I never want to forget.

April 17, 2004

Today is James M Johnston's birthday (note: don't bother clicking the obligatory link on his name, since his site hasn't been updated since the last time you were there -- honestly), but instead of congratulating him for getting old and conservative, I'm going to ignore him entirely and redirect you to Luke Y. Thompson's site, where I'm one of six entrants in a contest he's holding, the object of which was to parody his blogging style. I don't think mine is the best of the lot, but I want to win anyway, so scroll back a few posts on his blog to find the entries and if you can figure out which one's mine (shouldn't be too hard), vote for it. The DVD he's giving away as a prize (which he did a commentary track for) gave me nightmares when I was little, and I need to confront those demons.

A 'Kill Bill 2' review will be forthcoming at some point, and then actually written and posted at some point after that.

Goddamn it, I can't maintain my heartlessness: happy birthday, JMJ, you fucking born again flag waver, you.

April 15, 2004

I'm going to make a few small changes to the site over the coming months, beginning with some additions to the Short Films section. All the links work now; I'm now hosting a Quicktime version of'Looking For Love' myself and, most signficantly, 'Honey' is now available online. The quality of the Quicktime file is a little low, since I wanted to keep the size managable, but it's considerably better than any other version that's been seen publicly available the past. Looking at it now, I think Curtis and I definitely had Matthew Barney on our minds when we made it, but I don't think that detracts from it at all -- it's still pretty original, pretty cool, and just downright pretty (Cammi helps a lot in that regard).

Hopefully, I'll have some other little odds and ends up in the near future. In the meantime, my attention is now focused on the baby possum that somehow got inside and is now hiding behind the drum set in my room; it's unbelievably cute.

April 14, 2004

Word to the wise: if you ever plan on stealing a fire hydrant, make sure you have more than one person to help you.

So today marks two months since I've been had any sort of regular employment. I'm not planning on returning to the workforce until I absolutely have to; I'm scraping by right now on a few odd video jobs (which prevented me from seeing both of the press screenings for 'Kill Bill 2,' but oh well). I just decided that, right now, money isn't of great concern to me. I'm at a point in my life where creativity is more important to me than it ever has been, and I'm willing to forego certain niceties in order to devote myself solely to my various artistic pursuits -- luckily, I can afford to do that right now, and who knows if I'll have this opportunity in the future. When I was jobless three years ago, I wasn't in the mental state to take advantage of it. Plus, I really needed money then. These last two months, though, have been wonderful and productive ('Deadroom' might not even be finished by now had I not had so much time to work on it). I've been able to experiment and learn things without feeling that I'm wasting time. Everything seems limitless right now (aside from the limits imposed by meager funds, but then again I'm still waiting for that Pepsi truck payment).

Hopefully, I'm not setting myself up for a huge fall.

I've been working on a full length 'Deadroom' trailer all day; so far, I've got about a minute of disjointed pieces. I could easily cut a trailer that would setup each story and give audiences an idea of what the movie itself is like -- but the teasers already do that. I'm trying to find some really good hook, something that would impress me if I saw it in theaters. It might just be in the way I juxtapose the scenes. I thought about doing it all in still frames, but there really isn't enough variety in the shots to pull that off. The thought that just popped into my head is incorporating behind-the-scenes footage to some extent, but I have a feeling that might be too far out there. But as I mentioned, I've got time to experiment (especially while we're waiting for the final mix, which has been delayed until the end of this coming weekend, which reminds me that the first show of 'Kill Bill 2' is only a day and a half away and I'm freakin' hyped).

On my nonfiction plate: having finished the Wilder/Cameron book, I've moved on to Stanley Kubrick, Director: A Visual Analysis, which is the only book on his work that he personally endorsed. Expect quotes in the future. While at the library, I intended to pick up some of Susan Sontag's books of film criticism, but there were none to be had; I think a trip to Half Price Books is in order (I also need to get a certain book for an upcoming screenwriting project). I won't be spending money I don't have, since I got a gift certificate from The Easter Bunny.

April 12, 2004

'A Four Course Meal' was glorious. Zombies, gore, comedy, visual poetry -- Clay could be the next Peter Jackson. The giddy response afterwards kind of made me dread the 'Deadroom' screening that we're setting up for cast and crew (and anyone else who hears about it). Our film lacks any zombies or gore, is short on comedy, and only has as much visual poetry as one can achieve in such a limited setting. Which is actually quite a lot -- a room and a table have never looked so good -- but still, it's 100 minutes of chatting with no blood. Actually, there's a little bit of blood, but it's kinda dried up.

Well, as it always goes, you always want what someone else has, while neglecting to see the merits of what you already possess. I asked Clay to e-mail me that poster, so hopefully I'll be able to display it soon. Those of you in Dallas who didn't see it tonight better make it to the screening on the 26th...otherwise you'll have to wait until its inevitable distribution.

Also, I must say that Jason Croft, who I haven't really spoken to since 'Still,' did a really great job on the cinematography. I actually had a dream the other night that we were working together at MPS Studios on something, but we kept getting distracted by this bald dwarf with no legs that was rolling around on a cart.

April 12, 2004

This is really short notice, but Clay Liford's feature film 'A Four Course Meal' is playing at the Angelika tonight at 7:00 (an encore screening will occur on the 26th). It's an anthology, one segment of which (Flowers Grown From Powdered Bones) I've already seen and loved, and another of which features the first onscreen pairing of Bill Sebastian and Grant James.

Clay had a poster made that is an absolutely AWESOME recreation of an old EC Comics cover -- it's not available online, unfortunately, but if you show up to the screening, make sure you grab one of the flyers that features it. It's the bees knees, seriously. I used to be a huge fan of EC Comics when I was younger, which surely planted the seeds for my now passionate stance against censorship. Someday, there's going to be an issue of Two Fisted Tales that'll be worth a fortune because it contains my first piece of published artwork (a picture of a zombie with nails sticking out of its head).

April 11, 2004

Nick's surprise birthday party last night was pretty great; a random icy cold front blew in that morning, and things kept getting better from there. I had trouble going to sleep afterwards because my semi-intoxicated brain was letting all these good thoughts kick back to the surface of my consciousness.

I just finished watching a sampling of our behind the scenes footage, which is seriously deficient in material. Lots of talking heads and very little shooting. While we were on the set, I think we all realized at various points that our documentarians were frequently absent, but we were all just too busy to give it much thought. So on the eventual (Criterion) DVD, you'll get a good perspective into the shooting of the bookends (which is actually pretty good material), Yen's room, part of Nick's room, and the conversations had by various crew members in their downtime (there's an awful lot of that). There are also some interesting interviews in which each of the four directors discusses one of their collaborators. I was questioned about Nick, and I'm afraid I failed to do him justice -- I'm the least erudite speaker of the group, that's for sure. Anyway, I'm sure that something cool can be cut together to show everyone exactly how much work goes into filming two people talking in a room.

April 10, 2004

I opened up the Observer last week and whose photograph did I see on the front page of the music section but Nick Prendergast, along with his Theater Fire cohorts (including Curtis Heath and Sean French, who ended up not scoring our movie). They're up for Best Album or something like that in the annual Observer music awards, so get over to their website and vote. For them.

This week in the Observer, I learned that autoerotic stimulation of the clitoris is illegal in Texas, but that's not what I'm here to talk about today. Today, two weeks after Curtis' birthday, the day before the Easter Bunny's birthday, the day before my brother's birthday, one week before James' birthday, is Nick's birthday. So here's what I want everyone who reads this to do, right now. Click on Nick's e-mail address: filmordie@yahoo.com. Then write him an e-mail saying something like this.

Hey Nick,

You don't know me, but I just wanted to drop a line and say that I happened across the Deadroom site, and I have to say it looks really awesome. I especially find the elderly gentlemen in your room to be quite compelling.

Good luck with the film, and I can't wait to see it!

Sincerely, (your name)

P.S. What is a film ordie?

Personalize as you see fit. And if you do happen to know Nick, then by all means give him a warm round of Happy Birthday.

April 8, 2004

I've been making my way through the local library's impressive film selection these past few weeks -- every few years, I remember that they actually have a lot of great films that I've never seen, readily available, five at a time, for free (with no late fees). They even have Criterion DVDs (and their forerunners, Janus Films VHS tapes). Lately, I've been focusing on lots of Kurosawa and equal doses of Billy Wilder, particularly since I'm finishing up 'Conversations With Wilder' by Cameron Crowe (which is a sheer joy and has inspired me to be far more focused in my own writing). About two years ago, I wrote, upon viewing 'Sunset Boulevard' for the first time, that it was so good that I couldn't believe I'd never seen it before. The same thing now goes for 'The Apartment.' Now that I've finally found time to watch movies at home, I'm realizing what I've been missing out on all these years: a whole lot.

And as far as Kurosawa goes, I'll withhold my exaltations and instead ask one question: how the hell did he do that climactic arrow shot in 'Throne Of Blood?'

I've exhausted the library's supply of Bergman films, but that's okay; I just got back a few hours ago from a midnight screening of 'The Passion Of Anna' at the Magnolia (thanks, Ryan), and I'd much rather see his films on the big screen (of course, I'd rather see any film on the big screen). This one was an interesting extension of the emotional devastation he's delved into in other works (he writes in his book Images that it's basically the same story as 'Shame'). In an experimental move, iterspersed throughout the narrative are short interviews with the actors in which they talk about their characters in the film. It's a bold breech of the fourth wall, one that Bergman says he regrets; I think it works on a scale of sheer originality, but then again I'm a sucker for self referential touches like that. It reminds me of the only worthwhile thing in Gus Van Sant's 'Finding Forrester,' which was his inclusion of the slate in the very first shot.

Sun's up.

April 7, 2004

One of my friends stole a 100 dollar bill from his job, and then used it to tip the waiter at Denny's. He's my hero for the day.

April 6, 2004

Getting the sound mixed means that, for the most part, the picture needs to be locked. Which it was until the other night, after I had burned the DVD of the OMF files, at which point I was laying in bed, drifting off to sleep, when a really good idea hit me and I got up and made a slight trim to one scene, one of those minor changes that makes a big difference. Then I happened across another sequence and was like, "you know, what if I did this...." So finally I stopped tinkering and output a new OMF file, which is being mixed down as I write this (or at least it better be). My point is, I hate locking picture. My other point is that it's fun to not tell the other guys what changes I've made, to see if they're really paying attention when they watch it. On the subject of watching it, the way we shot this film leaves us with a rather wacky aspect ratio dilema: technically, it's 4:3, although technically technically, it's 2:35:1, although when (and if) it gets projected, I imagine it'll be approximately 1:85:1. Whatever will we put on festival submission forms?

After reflecting on my last post, I finally put the Lullaby trailer back online (it accidentally got deleted in the server switch last fall). I've been reflecting on all sorts of things lately, as I often do. There are a lot of anniversaries this time of year.

April 5, 2004

(there are better pictures, but i've got a good reason to use this one)

April 4, 2004

The worst part about making a feature is that you have to watch it over and over again -- at least with a short film it only takes up twenty minutes or so. It gets increasingly hard to focus, but at the same time, its always a joy when little things you don't expect jump out at you. We watched it again tonight, to see how it played with the score (including the new material Daniel whipped up for us) implemented. We made a few adjustments, and now I'm exporting the OMF files for mixing.

The good news is that I haven't started hating the movie, as I would have by this point on previous projects -- on the contrary, I think it's gotten consistently better (especially my part, which is pleasantly surprising to me). On the other hand, I'm losing interest in it with alarming alacrity. When I'm not actually working on it, I'm already planning other things and forgetting that we still have to try to take this baby public. I'm always that way, ready to detach from a project as soon as it's physically completed. I need to remember that this new feature length film, while not necessarily top-ten-list material, is actually very good, is actually an asset that needs to be exploited to the fullest, and that I can't just go and abandon it. I don't know if we'll manage to sell it, since it's so damn artsy, but the hope that for once feels somewhat attainable is that this will lead to better things -- if we can just get it seen.

And in the case that it does get seen, and you, dear reader, are one of those who sees it -- STAY UNTIL THE CREDITS ARE OVER!!! And tell all your friends to stay too. You should always stay through the credits for any film, but with this one it's especially important. DO NOT LEAVE.

Completely unrelated, here's a fun game I'm currently playing: wait until you're very tired, and then drink a cup of really hot coffee really fast, and then lay down and try to take a nap. The key is to actually doze off for a minute or two, and then when you wake up you'll either feel totally buzzed or have a heart attack.

April 2, 2004

I haven't written a review of 'Hellboy' yet, but I know that when I do, its thesis statement will be that it's the 'Lost In Translation' of superhero monster movies. I love Guillermo Del Toro -- not just his movies, but the man himself: I'm listening again to the 'Blade 2' commentary now and he's just so awesome.

In other comic book related news, Dave Sim's landmark 'Cerebus' series has finally come to its end after nearly thirty years. I've read the first 200 issues or so, and heartily endorse them for anyone interested in fine art, politics, religion, gender and/or the interconnectivity of all of the above -- but don't pick them up expecting some casual reading; as Sim says in this (rather virulent) interview, it's more like a series of Russian novels. Also revealed in the interview: what working on a singular piece of work for 26 straight years will do for your worldview (being compelled to write ten page responses to fan letters could be considered a sign of extreme gratefulness, but I doubt that's the case in Sim's instance).

A minor footnote: that 'Garden State' trailer that I mentioned liking so much two weeks ago has finally made it online. I found two reviews on AICN, from Sundance, that suggest its as good as the trailer. Also reviewed on the samge page is a documetary called 'Overnight,' which I can't wait to see, mainly because I really really really hated 'Boondock Saints.'

The end of 'Blade 2' is floating on my desktop right now. It's beauty is incomparable. God bless Guillermo Del Toro. Also, is it a rule that all Catholic filmmakers love to use graphic violence? I'm having trouble thinking of an exception to this. I'm in good company.

March 30, 2004

I sold my old G4 -- the computer upon which history was made -- to James the other day. I really don't use it for anything anymore (I can't believe I've had this iMac for a year) and I'd rather convert a friend to the glory of Apple than maintain a personal collection of hardware (Apple doesn't need to hire spokespeople -- everyone who uses them joyfully advertises for them on a day to day basis). It was sort of emotional parting with it, but at least I'll always know where it is, and that it's being put to good use. Today I dismantled the cabinet/desk in which it resided, and in the process unearthed many cherished relics of the past years; ancient miniDV tapes from the Lullaby era, countless CDs of music from Curtis Heath, photographs, a prized silver cigarette case -- I have a huge stack of personal affects on the floor next to me that I need to find some new place for, since I never throw anything away.

Also, I'm not a huge Batman freak by any means, but I dearly love Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns, as anyone with any taste should; and so the sight of the Batmobile from Chris Nolan's unbelievably promising new Batman film (have you seen the cast?) filled me with excitement. And as long as I'm talking about cool developments in films being released in 2005, Peter Jackson's choice of leading actors -- Jack Black and Naomi Watts -- for 'King Kong' is grrrrreat.

March 29, 2004

First up in this all-new new edition: I'm consistently, dependably late in reading articles of import in The Guardian, but that doesn't stop me from linking to them. If you're a true Kubrick fan, perhaps you've already read this one.

A minor dream came true this morning: my parked car was hit by a truck owned by a major corporation--in this case Pepsi. It left an impressive dent in the passenger side, damage that will cost at least a few hundred bucks to repair (I wish it had been totaled, that would have been even better). Because it was hit by a company vehicle, I don't have to feel guilty about reporting it (if it were just some person who made an accident, I don't think I'd do anything about it because I'm just really forgiving like that). But it's Pepsi -- basically, it's like Britney Spears (or is it Beyonce now?) is going to be writing me a check. Provided that I buckle down and make all the phone calls. I hate dealing with the business end of situations like this.

I've been working these past three days on mixing the score into the movie; the results are a slightly mixed bag. The stuff for the opening and closing of my segments worked so well that I was practically jumping up and down with excitement as I watched them play with the music; it was seriously beautiful stuff, and seeing and hearing such perfect complementation was something I'd never experienced. I was elated. That was Friday.

James and worked on his segments all night Saturday, with equally amazing results. His room is the first in the movie, and the music that opens the film is pretty stunning.

Yesterday and today I focused on Rooms 3 and 4 with Nick and Yen, and ran into some road blocks. Nick's emerged somewhat okay -- there's some stuff I don't like, but overall it comes together well -- but Yen ended up only using about thirty or forty seconds of the music composed for his room. It turned out to be just a little too precious. It's alternately cool and frustrating how music can change so much when placed in the context of a film, and vice versa: a melody can draw things out of a scene that you never knew were there, while elements you didn't notice in the music when you were listening to it by itself will suddenly increase in prominence.

Another problem is that a good portion of the music is not incidental, and so it's proven hard to fit it in precisely where we need it. So we've taking notes, and some revisions will be in order. In the meantime, if you want to download a five minute excerpt that encompasses several of the major themes that Daniel's composed, head over to the Official Site.