Friday, 18 December 2009

I Guess It's Christmas Coming Down

I'm signing off - have a bitchin' Christmas and a Happy New Year. I'll be back in 2010. I need a break from the filmmaking malarkey, film blogging malarkey, and other things, malarkey-wise.

It's been great. Last Christmas, the Kid In The Front Row didn't exist. I mean, I did exist, I don't mean I'm less than a year old. But my blog is. Yet, here you all are, readers, bloggers, filmmakers, lurkers, stalkers. Thanks for sticking around. It makes me feel loved and wanted, which is why I'm abandoning you all for the Holidays. I'm cold like that.




Have a Jimmy Stewart kind of Christmas (I don't mean suicidal, jumping off a bridge, I mean everything else.)

Care to share?

Thursday, 17 December 2009

Screenwriting Festival Winner!


The Kid In The Front Row Screenwriting Festival 2009

BEST SCREENPLAY

Patrick O'Riley
'Hypo-Whatever'

Thank you to all who submitted. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of entries - each script had original ideas and distinct voices of the writers. It fills me with joy to know there is talent out there capable of doing such exciting work under such strict conditions! You should all be very proud.

Patrick's script, 'Hypo-Whatever' showed some real imagination and originality - where the idea came from, I have no idea. With his permission, I'll be posting the screenplay very soon.

Also, when I get a chance - I will talk more about the other entrants and dish out a few awards - but right now, let's all congratulate Patrick on a well-paced, funny and dramatic script.

Care to share?

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

My Views On Life Expressed Through Movies #1

Scarlett Johannson - On How It Really Doesn't Matter.


JOHN
Would you-- Would you
please stop smoking?

CHARLOTTE
I like to.
I don't really smoke that much.

JOHN
It's just so bad for you,
though.

CHARLOTTE
Well, I'll stop later.

Care to share?

The Rough Edit.

So, you show the rough edit to a few choice people to get some feedback. You show it to your friend who's an actor, you show it to a composer, you show it to your family, you show it to some dude on Facebook who keeps saying 'I wanna make films!' and you show it to your best friend.


Your friend who's an actor tells you everything is great, brilliant, apart from the acting, which is really bad and "by the way, I played a drug dealer once and you should have cast me as the drug dealer." You remind them the drug dealer in this film is 9, with a moustache, which is different to the actor giving you feedback who is a 24 year old model. But they say "I can play a drug dealer." So anyways, you say thanks and off they go and you begin to cry because your film has really bad actors.

And then your friend, the composer, says everything is great, especially the acting, although the music is really bad and drowns out all the action, and then the composer reminds you they won 'Best Music In A Short Film 2008' as well as 'Most Likely To Be Good At Composing, East Frimley School Contest 1986'.
So you consider cutting the actors and keeping the music, or maybe cutting the music and keeping the actors. You settle on cutting the actors and cutting the music, and suddenly your film is only eight seconds long.

So you find alternate takes and alternate music and put them all in. And then you show it to your best friend, who politely says "What the fuck? Aren't you famous yet? Hasn't Spielberg phoned? After all these years nobody has really cared about what you do so isn't it time you got real and did something productive with your life?" You take their feedback constructively, and fill out a McDonalds recruitment form.
And then you show your family the film and they say "This is amazing! You're our little star. It's wonderful. You're special!" - so you immediately feel confident and loved again, and ignore the fact that anything less than special that you do from now on will make you feel inferior and a failure to your family for the rest of your life.

So now you're rolling again and ready to release your mini masterpiece. And then you show it to the dude on Facebook who wants to make a movie, and he says "I really liked it. I especially like your liberal use of film language, and the way you playfully made things nonsensical and abstract, I especially liked your use of bad wind/microphone noises and I loved the way you wrote really bad dialogue and were okay with that." You say, defensively, "when did you ever make a film?" - And he says "Shut the fuck up, it's been four weeks and McDonalds still haven't got back to you."

And suddenly you realise that nobody knows anything. Especially you. And that actor you love, it turns out they may be really fucking awful. And that actress who couldn't act, turns out maybe she's the most realistic one in the film.

Nobody knows anything. If you show the film to thirty people, there'll be thirty people to tell you what's wrong with your film, and thirty people to like things about it that you didn't even think of. Aside from 'The Godfather' and 'Shawshank Redemption' - it's been the same for every film in history. So all you can do is take one final look at it and then declare it as the final cut.

Then it's time to get those pennies you earned at McDonalds; get some envelopes and stamps, and enter some film festivals. And then, eventually - something good might come of all this.

Care to share?

Saturday, 12 December 2009

A Trip To The Shopping Centre - A Short Story About English Malls.

A Short Account Of Shopping By Lenny S. Hipton.

I didn't have any interest in paint-balling until the man came up to me and asked if I had any interest in paint-balling. I still didn't but he gave me a piece of paper and said that me and eight friends could go paint-balling for only £200. I told him I only had a twenty and that was to be used to buy Caroline a very small bottle of perfume. He reminded me that paint-balling is only £200 and that the booking line is open 24 hours a day, except for weekends and when trying to get a refund. I refused to budge, which is probably why he kept talking to me, so I swiftly moved on and crashed into a girl who was selling pictures of people I didn't know in wooden frames for only £24.99.

As I began walking I saw an interesting clothing store wedged between two Starbucks', which were themselves lodged between another two Starbucks. I began pondering why there were so many Starbucks but soon grew tired and needed a coffee. I asked the man inside if I could use the coffee beans I bought at the store, a whole giant bag for £3.95. He said no so I bought a cup of coffee from Starbucks for £3.95.

After I left I again noticed the interesting looking clothing store which promised that all items were 50% off. I didn't know what this 50% was off of but I knew it'd be 50% cheaper than when it was more expensive.

I was greeted by a beautiful girl who was missing at least 70% of her clothing. She told me that there was 50% off all items that used to be 150% but all other items remained at 100%, unless there were no labels in which case you'd be charged 200% but only find out after you've left the store.

I decided to buy the black polo shirt which is a lot like the one my Grandmother wears except it had a little bird label on it so the beautiful girl said it cost 300%. I asked if there were cheaper ones without a small yellow label and she said "Do you want to look like your Grandmother?" - the girl then turned to a group of teenage men who were trying to get with the girls who were in the make-up store. The woman said they should cover themselves up in polo shirts with yellow labels or the ones with green labels as green labels will be 'in' from January.

The boys all bought polo shirts with green labels, and went to look for the girls they were trying to get with. The girls were also trying to get with the boys so they asked the lady in the make-up shop what they should spend their money on. The lady in the shop said they should cover themselves in make-up and tanning lotion that will make them look a slight shade of orange. The girls decided to become orange as they trusted the girl working there who was the first white woman ever to be also completely classified as 'an orange person' on her drivers license, passport, and Facebook. The girls admired this and immediately reapplied for passports.

After this the teenage girls and boys went back to the food court where they originally agreed to meet up. Despite all waiting by the pizza place and intermingling, they failed to recognize each other and instantly hit the Gap store for some retail therapy.

I walked up and down for many hours, stopping to pick up various bits of clothing, and things that make me smell different, and ornaments to put by the lamp in the bathroom. I began buying ornaments to go near the lamp in the bathroom after I realised everyone else was doing it. Everyone seems to be buying them because their wives say "Honey, don't you think that would look good by the lamp in the bathroom?" I don't have a lamp in my bathroom so every time I buy an ornament I have to find someone who has a lamp in their bathroom.

After buying the polo shirts with labels and pleasant ornaments I realised I needed to buy some stuff to make Caroline smell a bit different, because that's what she wanted, for her birthday. She said that if I couldn't find her the one she wanted I should just get her a voucher so she can come to the mall to buy clothing with labels and ornaments and coffees from Starbucks or Starbucks. This makes her happy.

Eventually Caroline and I got married and had a kid. We had a kid so we could come to the mall with a kid because when you bring a kid you can shop in the stores that sell toys and barriers to stop them getting to their toys, and barriers that stop them getting to the barriers that stop them getting to their toys.

I love my life.

Care to share?