I don't really care how much the latest superhero film took at the box office, although I'd probably know if you asked me. When I watch a film the main thing I am looking for is a good story. I like it when I look up at the big screen and can see a part of me staring back at me. More than anything, I am still looking for Jimmy Stewart and Jack Lemmon and Billy Wilder in every film I see.
Sunday, 13 May 2012
Feedback: Email from a reader.
Feedback: JASON MRAZ
CHRISTA: As a "diehard" I have to say I agree, to some point. But he's always been easy-listening pop, with an occasional twist of raw (sometimes naughty) honesty. The difference now is that he has chosen to only offer the world the raw honesty that is upbeat. (His confession... watch the interview w/ Neil Patrick Harris.)
But this in itself is risky because he has done this for very personal reasons. He sees himself as a light to the world, spreading a happy vibe, and he recognizes that his fans are yearning (in every aspect of life) to surround themselves with happiness. It's an epidemic among 30 somethings, and it is making the world a better place. But in the sensational music world, that's risky.
By the way, I find it fascinating that he thanked Ryan Adams on this CD. And that I only found your blog because of the Ryan Adams video and blog you posted long ago. They are SO very different in sound and message and yet I'm obsessed with both.
KITFR: Glad you like it! I wish I did, really. I think optimism is great. By and large, on this blog, I am optimistic and supportive of artists in all disciplines.. just found myself really disappointed with the latest effort from Mraz. But that's just me!
KIRSTEN: Much as I would love to constantly go on about the awesomeness of Jason Mraz I find that I have to agree that his current stuff just isn't like how it was before. Sometimes I find that he takes himself too seriously now, whereas the attraction of his older music was that he seemed to be a little more self-deprecating and into his silliness rather than the whole kumbaya-we-must-live-high thing. I agree that the message is good, but when almost every one is like this it starts to feel a little preachy and annoying and makes you go, "But what about all the OTHER parts of life, which are just as beautiful if not as happy?"
KITFR: I completely agree!
MR. A-Z: I understand the whole preachy thing can get annoying. The only thing is that when people preach it is usually about something political, personal or religious. The kind of preaching he does is more general, more towards our perfect aspirations: Be happy and make other people happy as well. As hippie-ish as it is, I believe it is something we should all try to do; you know just without the drugs, jam fests and protests.
KITFR: Perhaps. What he does bores me and doesn't have the same effect. I mean, Barry White used to make me feel happy, just like Cameron Crowe movies. Both are often cheesy and overly optimistic, but they don't disgard pain, they embrace it. I guess I just find the optimism of Mraz's stuff a little see through, I don't buy it.
CHRIS BURTON: Intrigued to read this considering your American Pie love-in.
KITFR: I think this is a bit of a dig from Chris regarding me spending a week writing about the 'American Pie' movies. And of course, they're a big Hollywood franchise. I get what Chris means, but as I wrote back to him on Facebook; I love what I love, often it's independent films or foreign films but, also, I love Hollywood movies! I feel like it's a different issues - but I get where you're coming from Chris!
ANDINA: I agree that the current albums aren't as great as the first, but I still love listen to some of his current songs. I think some artist does change after they are successful but I don't think he completely fail. Hope he'll create a record as great as the first. By the way, I'm going to see his concert next month. And excited for it!
KITFR: Enjoy the gig! He's a lot of fun live!
ANONYMOUS #2: I am a Diehard fan, and while I know his latest album could have been better, I think he made it for himself more than anyone else. He as gone through a lot lately and he admitted that he was really considering quitting. It made me really sad to think that he might quit. But with this new album he really wanted to explore the great things in life to remind himself of why he was doing what he was doing. The new songs are still amazing to me. But in a different way. If you always compare one song or album to another, you will always have an opinion of which is better. That's why I think this album should be judged as a stand alone album, and it should be seen as a new Mraz, not a worse one.
KITFR: Nice points anonymous. And I wish I could separate one album from the other -- and in many ways I do. I guess I just didn't like this album much, I find it very bland, and felt somewhat similar about his previous album too. But it's interesting that fans of his are coming here and talking about how he's had a hard time in relationships, and in wanting to quit -- and you're right, I'd hate for him to quit, he's such a great talent -- and clearly, so many of you fans are still on board and enjoying his music, and that's the most important thing!
Friday, 11 May 2012
Falling Slowly
Thursday, 10 May 2012
The Smallest Pieces
Little tiny moments in songs and the way people leave on road trips in the middle of movies and all these tiny little fractions of moments that speak to your heart.
Sometimes I feel like whatever we loved as kids created pathways in our brains, and the rest of our lives are spent hunting down sounds and visions which retrace those tracks.
We review movies as if we all see the same things, but it's different for everyone. Even if everyone did love the Avengers movie, it'd be different moments that fill the hole.
But the best stuff fills your personal soundtrack, your own collection of scenes. They're what make you tick, and they're so hard to find because everyone seems to innovate or stagnate, and you just want them to RESONATE!
It's 2.22am. At 2.22am the charts are irrelevant, the box office is meaningless. It's all about what speaks to you.
MOVIE STAR GIRL - A Short Story by The Kid In The Front Row
That being said, every now and then I like to write stories in a more traditional form. I wrote 'Movie Star Girl' in one evening and promptly posted it over four days here on the blog.
Today, randomly, I came across it again. And I felt really proud of it. I have this bad habit of producing work, dishing it out there half-heartedly, and then allowing it to be forgotten. I don't market myself, I don't show off.
But when I looked at this story again today, I really loved it. I was really happy with what I'd created. And how often does that happen!? So, I decided to post it again, in the hope it might be seen by a few more of you than last time.
I know that we live in a fast world and me asking you to read a short story on a blog is a big ask. But if you like my work and my style, I am really hopeful that this will resonate with you. Please take the time to read it. It would mean the world to me if you could share your thoughts with me afterwards. Thank you!
It felt like the beginning of something. They sat in a tiny restaurant on Mulberry Street and Tommy hid the Bolognese sauce stain on his shirt. Nicola knew about the stain but she could also see how desperately he was trying to hide it. Weeks later, they’d joke about it, but on this night it was important business.
When they think of their first meeting, they think of Mulberry Street, but they actually met two hours before, in a run-down office just off Canal Street. Nicola was late and Tommy was pissed about it. Everyone was pissed about it. They’d seen fifteen actresses already and they had no time for a late one.
But then she walked in.
Tommy fell immediately in love and wanted to cast her. He knew it wasn’t professional, but love isn’t about being professional. Luckily, she had talent. It was more than just acting skills, she exuded something. An essence. She was like a Van Morrison song – soft yet surprising; with an unexplainable magic. She dived into the role of Jessica, and the whole room was captured, including Georgia, who usually hated everyone by default. Tommy knew they had to cast her. He was a unique filmmaker, and his debut feature was almost certain to impress. When it came to the female lead, he wanted someone with a simple, elegant beauty and a good heart and soul. It was definitely her. “We’ll let you know," said Georgia, giving nothing away, as Nicola went off into the night.
After a bad audition, Nicola would normally wait to get home before crying her eyes out. This time, she was certain she’d blown it. She disappeared into the night somewhere on the lower East Side and burst into a thousand tears. They flowed like they hadn’t in years. She’d fucked up auditions before, but this time it hurt because she loved the script and everything about the project. She was certain it would be her big break and now she was certain it was broken.
Tommy left the office happy, as did the producers. They’d found the missing ingredient. Tommy was also left with the bittersweet feeling of knowing that he was absolutely doomed. He grew up falling in love with movie star girls and now he was about to employ one that made his heart scream all over the Manhattan night. Georgia and Jay re-capped the afternoon and talked about the location visits coming up the following week, but Tommy’s attention was gone. He wanted to disappear into the night and think and dream and feel. It was insane, he knew; but as a writer and director he lived for those moments when life gives you a spark which makes you want to dance with the New York night all on your own. “Is that okay with you?” asked Georgia, about something. Tommy looked back all confused and made an excuse about feeling sick and wanting to leave. He lied about getting a Taxi, just to get rid of them, and then he took off into the streets with the sole intention of breathing in the New York night on foot.
Tommy didn’t believe in magic, except for when he did believe in magic, which was very rare and usually only lasted for about an evening; which is why he was so pumped up on this particular night, for it was undoubtedly magic.
Should I do it? Or would he think I’m insane? Am I even meant to have the director’s number? These were the thoughts that kept circling in Nicola’s mind. She wanted to call him to apologize for being so terrible and unprepared. I shouldn’t call, figured Nicola, which is probably why she dialed his number while eating a self-pity-deli-sandwich.
He didn’t normally answer numbers he didn’t recognize, but tonight was a night of magic, he’d decided. “Hi, is that Tommy Morrel?” asked the female voice. It’s her, it’s her, oh my God, what if it’s really her, he pondered. “It’s Nicola Pent, I read for you today. I’m an actress. Kind of.”
“Kind of?” asked Tommy.
“Well, based on today I am maybe not an actress.”
“You were great.”
“I think you’re thinking of someone else.”
“We all loved you.”
“I just want you to know that I love your writing, and everything you’re doing with the film and I really think I might be right for it, which I know is insane after what you saw today..”
“Nicola, you’re right, you might well be right for it—“
“You don’t understand. I was not at my best today, I’m embarrassed by it.”
“Are you insane?”
“Sometimes I’m a little insane,” she explained.
Tommy had an idea. It was the type of idea that he’d never attempted in real life but had always attempted in his movie scripts. Fuck it, he figured, tonight is a magic night. “Whereabouts are you right now?”
“Little Italy” she responded.
“Me too! Whereabouts?”
“Just outside Angelo’s.”
“Wait there. I’ll be two minutes.”
“Um, okay.”
Tommy hung up. It was an abrupt hang up, like they do in political thrillers, which he instantly regretted but figured he’d make it up to her when he got to Mulberry Street. The only problem was that he was actually nowhere near Mulberry Street. He hailed a cab and demanded they get there in two minutes.
The Bolognese sauce was, surprisingly, not a result of going to an Italian restaurant. In fact, Tommy didn’t know how the sauce stain came to be. He looked down at his shirt when he got into the cab, and there it was. It was big. Almost enough to make him cancel on Nicola. Luckily, he had a masterplan: arrive on Mulberry Street, run into a restroom, and wash it off before she sees him. Or he could dive into a store and buy a cheap t-shirt of some kind. All of these things could have worked had Nicola not been standing in the exact spot where the yellow cab pulled up. Nicola smiled and waved awkwardly as Tommy stepped out of the car. It suddenly hit Nicola that she was meeting a director who absolutely despised her and was probably meeting her to recommend a career as a receptionist.
“Why would I despise you?” asked Tommy, as they sat down in the restaurant. “Because I’m the worst actress you’ve ever seen,” said Nicola.
“Okay, cut it out. You’re fantastic. We’re considering you for the role.”
“Really?” she asked.
“What do you want to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Me neither,” added Tommy.
Nicola was all ready to ask ‘then why the hell are we here?’ but instead found herself laughing and smiling. It was a spontaneous moment, that made a bolt of life flow through her body; making her instantly happy. She was comfortable with this director guy. She didn’t know why, but she was. She smiled at him and he smiled at the world and they ordered some wine.
The Bolognese stain was covered by Tommy’s left arm for most of the evening. This made it look like he had a bizarre disability, but for him, that was better than looking like someone who spilled food all over himself. Nicola found it amusing, if only because he was getting in a pickle about the fact the sauce was now all over his arm as well. They talked about the film and then they talked about their favorite songs and then they talked about religion and relationships and their pets and their dreams and four hours quickly rushed by.
They stepped outside somewhere around midnight and decided to get down to serious business: the cupcakes. For reasons not quite known they both had a craving for delicious cupcakes. But from where? Tommy knew a place on the Upper West Side and Nicola knew a cute place in Chelsea but they were both too far away for the craving. “We will walk until the cupcakes present themselves,” announced Tommy, and that they did.
Tommy was extremely aware of the magic. The temperature was just right, the conversation was flowing and for the first time in at least five years his sense of humor seemed to work on another human being. “This is a good night,” said Tommy.
“Indeed it is,” said Nicola, who had forgotten all her madness about being a bad actress.
“I need to tell you something,” said Tommy, in an unexpectedly serious tone. Nicola stopped and turned to him, ready to take in whatever he had to say. She suspected something terrible, like cancer, but hoped it was something sweet, like ‘Can I kiss you?’
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I have a rather troublesome and somewhat outrageous amount of Bolognese stuck to my shirt and I don’t know how it got there.”
Nicola fell into a fit of laughter that lasted for at least five hours. “I’m serious, I don’t know how it happened” added Tommy.
Nicola tried to talk, tried to say anything sensible, but she was too lost in laughing-breakdown-mode.
Tommy’s phone rang, which surprised him, as he had forgotten there were phones, or buildings, or indeed anything other than Nicola and the Manhattan night. It was Jay, the producer, all excited and loud --- “We’ve got him! We’ve fucking got him!” yelled Jay.
It was good news. Jason Hurl, the movie star, agreed to do Tommy’s small indie film. He slashed his fees, cleared his schedule, and agreed to dedicate himself to “Two People Lost”. This was the moment Tommy had waited all his life for. A giant movie star was agreeing to star in his picture. Amazing. But of course; Tommy realized what it meant --- that Nicola, the new piece of Brooklyn magic that had strolled into his life only hours ago, would have, as her love interest, a Hollywood icon. Jason was married, of course, but then everyone in Hollywood is married right up until the point they’re not married anymore. Tommy immediately regretted the sex scenes he’d written. Maybe they weren’t integral after all. Maybe the film didn’t need to be a romance anymore. He considered making it a gay drama. Nicola looked at him and wondered why he’d been spaced out for about nine minutes.
Nicola playfully mentioned that she desperately wanted a cupcake, and Tommy snapped back at her, “I know. I get it.” She was surprised by his abruptness. Tommy felt he had a right to be angry with her – because he was certain that she was already planning to have an affair with Jason Hurl even though she didn’t know that she would be offered the role, or that Jason would be in it as well.
Tommy could actually see the night’s magic disappearing in front of him. It announced itself with a gust of cold wind and a look of distance in Nicola’s eyes.
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
The picture first appeared in the New York Post. And then it was all over the internet. ‘JASON HURL & HIS NEW LOVER’. It was an image of Jason, with his hand on Nicola’s arm, in a Chinese restaurant.
This was not what Tommy wanted to wake-up to on the first day of principle photography.
Chapter Four
Nicola filmed with Spielberg and got famous. Jason and his wife separated and his friendship with Nicola turned into something more. Tommy stayed in New York, finishing the movie. That’s how it went for a while. Tommy began dating some big-breasted French girl who was all excited about meeting a film director, but he soon dumped her because he could never remember her name.
The End