MOOSE HUNTING DEPARTMENT
One of my peasants saw Into the Wild the other day and reported thus:
Finally! A movie that deals with real themes and people and shows us places that really exist that we have never seen before. A movie not about James Bond with amnesia. A movie not about cops fed up with the justice system and going on killing sprees. A movie not designed to sell toys, Happy meals, and other consumer crap.
Into the Wild is about as far as you can get from a Hollywood movie while still being anchored in production value, the English language, and comprehensible storytelling technique. It reminded me a lot of 70s road movies like Easy Rider and Two Lane Blacktop -- movies allowed to meander, explore, and contemplate nothing less than existence itself.
Unfortunately, I don't think many people are buying tickets to see the dang thing. That's too bad, because this is a beautiful movie to immerse oneself in, with spectacular location photography in wild and unusual locations, not to mention seldom seen ones like L.A.'s skid row.
Go to a theater to see skid row? Yeah, I know, kind of a strange notion. But I'm tired of seeing Santa Monica Pier in every other movie made. Fuck the Westside. Fuck New York. Show us Vince Vaughn on a combine and Catherine Keener in a Winnebago.
Despite not being good box office, my prediction is that quite a few people will still end up seeing this movie, since it's going to get a ton of Oscar nominations. If it doesn't, then Pluto is going to crash into the earth tomorrow. Ironically, when people see this movie it will be from the comfort of their living rooms, the very thing Wild's anti-hero Christopher McCandless leaves behind in his search for truth, beauty, and a quiet place to read. What irony, in fact, that McCandless' story of existential escapism and anti-consumerism was made into a movie.
Good source material helps, and John Krakaeur's original book is truly an original, giving the McCandless story an historical context. His description of 9th Century Christian monks that got fed up with Iceland for becoming too crowded and therefore rowing off to Greenland is priceless.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Expired from the Expo
GURUS GALORE DEPARTMENT
I planned to attend all four days of the screenwriting Expo this year, but only made two. I've been swamped building websites (Tuesday I spent 17 grueling hours in front of the computer), so I was only able to attend the weekend days. I hate having to trade off something I love for something I have to do to pay the bills, but that's how it works at this point.
Those two days were first rate. Of all the gurus I heard speak, I liked Bill Martell's classes the best. Bill drove a forklift before becoming a screenwriter, which gives him credentials beyond most anyone with a UCLA film education. Now he writes low budget action movies and the occasional horror piece. Bill confessed that his favorite genre is horror comedy, which is also mine, and one of his favorite movies is Piranha. Now we're talking. And he rides his bike to studio meetings.
Bill's first presentation was on guerrilla marketing your screenplay, where he shared a great technique for calling production companies to sell your wares. Don't. Get your friend to do it for you. Yeah, I'm all over that.
His second presentation was on horror. I disagreed with Bill that Hostel 2 is better than Hostel 1. I like Hostel 1 because it's the only movie I can think of that has no exposition. Also, it truly scared the shit out of me and made me laugh at the same time. Wait -- you mean it's not supposed to be funny?
One final thing I liked about Bill -- no discussion of what page your script should doing such and such. Okay, maybe he talks about that in another class or a book somewhere, but I don't recall hearing any of that on Saturday.
Would someone please come up with a technique for writing movies that doesn't involve counting pages?
I'm back to the grind now. I've been writing some strange cat stories just for the hell of it and figuring out what to do with all the notes and books I managed to amass at the Expo. I think I need a forklift.
I planned to attend all four days of the screenwriting Expo this year, but only made two. I've been swamped building websites (Tuesday I spent 17 grueling hours in front of the computer), so I was only able to attend the weekend days. I hate having to trade off something I love for something I have to do to pay the bills, but that's how it works at this point.
Those two days were first rate. Of all the gurus I heard speak, I liked Bill Martell's classes the best. Bill drove a forklift before becoming a screenwriter, which gives him credentials beyond most anyone with a UCLA film education. Now he writes low budget action movies and the occasional horror piece. Bill confessed that his favorite genre is horror comedy, which is also mine, and one of his favorite movies is Piranha. Now we're talking. And he rides his bike to studio meetings.
Bill's first presentation was on guerrilla marketing your screenplay, where he shared a great technique for calling production companies to sell your wares. Don't. Get your friend to do it for you. Yeah, I'm all over that.
His second presentation was on horror. I disagreed with Bill that Hostel 2 is better than Hostel 1. I like Hostel 1 because it's the only movie I can think of that has no exposition. Also, it truly scared the shit out of me and made me laugh at the same time. Wait -- you mean it's not supposed to be funny?
One final thing I liked about Bill -- no discussion of what page your script should doing such and such. Okay, maybe he talks about that in another class or a book somewhere, but I don't recall hearing any of that on Saturday.
Would someone please come up with a technique for writing movies that doesn't involve counting pages?
I'm back to the grind now. I've been writing some strange cat stories just for the hell of it and figuring out what to do with all the notes and books I managed to amass at the Expo. I think I need a forklift.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Day for Night
THE HEALING LIGHT OF DARKNESS DEPARTMENT
Earlier in the year, I hooked up with production company that makes low budget films. Let's rephrase that: it makes ultra low budget films. Let's rephrase that again: it makes ultra ultra low budget films that aren't even films because they're videos.
I found the company on Craig's List. "PA's needed for low budget meteor film." Waging so much of my war on Hollywood from home, I figured this was a good chance to send one of my peasants on a recon mission to check on the state of things in the hinterlands. Nevermind the peasant is 36-years-old and being a PA is the most inglorious job on a film set, he'll be making movies on Thursday while the rest of America is stuffing their fat asses with Doritos and Desperate Housewives.
Plus, what's wrong with a little shit work? It builds character -- and you can't expect to get final cut on your first day on the job, right?
My peasant soon found himself in Topanga Canyon, standing outside a spooky house, watching the sun go down. You see, the company shoots mostly at night, between the hours of 6 p.m. and 6 a.m. -- or 6 p.m. and 7 a.m., or 6 p.m. and 8 a.m., or... you get the idea. It's funny, even though I went to film school, since my focus was writing (film criticism) and not production, I never quite realized how many films are shot at night.
Why shoot at night? Well, think for a moment about your average film and how many scenes in that film take place at night. Generally, there's at least a dozen -- so of course, these scenes are going to be shot at night.
Now think about horror movies, and how many scenes in horror movies take place at night. Now you get the idea? You can't have girls running from guys with chainsaws when there are bluebirds and rainbows in the sky.
Well, come to think of it, that's not a half-bad idea...
This was a horror movie -- or at least I thought it was -- so the camera started rolling when the sun went down. The first scene involved campers sitting around a lantern (fire was too tricky to shoot, I assume, and would require the purchase of matches), bullshitting and drinking beer and philosophizing about a shooting star they see in the sky. Then the shooting star hits them and they explode.
I later found out the shooting star was sent to earth by none other than Jesus. In fact, the movie was a Christian thriller about what befalls those who don't pray to the right God.
Christian horror. It warms the heart.
My exhausted peasant stumbled into the door the next day and gave me his report. I sent him on several more midnight missions just to make sure his information was correct. I quickly gained new respect for every movie I've even seen that takes place at night.
Earlier in the year, I hooked up with production company that makes low budget films. Let's rephrase that: it makes ultra low budget films. Let's rephrase that again: it makes ultra ultra low budget films that aren't even films because they're videos.
I found the company on Craig's List. "PA's needed for low budget meteor film." Waging so much of my war on Hollywood from home, I figured this was a good chance to send one of my peasants on a recon mission to check on the state of things in the hinterlands. Nevermind the peasant is 36-years-old and being a PA is the most inglorious job on a film set, he'll be making movies on Thursday while the rest of America is stuffing their fat asses with Doritos and Desperate Housewives.
Plus, what's wrong with a little shit work? It builds character -- and you can't expect to get final cut on your first day on the job, right?
My peasant soon found himself in Topanga Canyon, standing outside a spooky house, watching the sun go down. You see, the company shoots mostly at night, between the hours of 6 p.m. and 6 a.m. -- or 6 p.m. and 7 a.m., or 6 p.m. and 8 a.m., or... you get the idea. It's funny, even though I went to film school, since my focus was writing (film criticism) and not production, I never quite realized how many films are shot at night.
Why shoot at night? Well, think for a moment about your average film and how many scenes in that film take place at night. Generally, there's at least a dozen -- so of course, these scenes are going to be shot at night.
Now think about horror movies, and how many scenes in horror movies take place at night. Now you get the idea? You can't have girls running from guys with chainsaws when there are bluebirds and rainbows in the sky.
Well, come to think of it, that's not a half-bad idea...
This was a horror movie -- or at least I thought it was -- so the camera started rolling when the sun went down. The first scene involved campers sitting around a lantern (fire was too tricky to shoot, I assume, and would require the purchase of matches), bullshitting and drinking beer and philosophizing about a shooting star they see in the sky. Then the shooting star hits them and they explode.
I later found out the shooting star was sent to earth by none other than Jesus. In fact, the movie was a Christian thriller about what befalls those who don't pray to the right God.
Christian horror. It warms the heart.
My exhausted peasant stumbled into the door the next day and gave me his report. I sent him on several more midnight missions just to make sure his information was correct. I quickly gained new respect for every movie I've even seen that takes place at night.
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