Making Friends -- a chance to get to know you all!

I was thinking today about how so many of you follow this blog now, and how many hits the blog gets - its growth has been amazing to me. But even with you regular commenters, I know so little about you!

I'd love to know more about you all! So, if you have the time, please answer these three questions in the comments.

1. What work do you do?

2. What are your hopes and dreams?

3. What makes you smile?

I'm excited to hear from you all!

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Up In The American Airlines Air Review.

George Clooney Gets on an American Airlines plane, and then afterwards stays at a Hilton Hotel. He then tells a few people he wants to become a special frequent flyer member person thing like only six other people in the world have ever been. He then gets in a rental car from Hertz and stays at another Hilton Hotel before boarding an American Airlines flight to St Louis, before boarding an American Airlines flight to Omaha or some place.

Upon landing he gets in a little Hilton Hotel travel bus which takes him to a Hilton Hotel where everyone knows him because he's a regular at the Hilton, probably because the staff are so lovely.

He gets in his Hertz rental car and drives to the airport where they only have American Airlines planes. By this point, the plot is thickening, as he wants to go and sleep with a woman who is waiting in a Hilton Hotel somewhere across the country.

The film ends with George Clooney boarding an American Airlines flight, after someone shouts "You forgot your Hertz Gold Card!" as he leaves a Hilton hotel whilst Tom Hanks delivers the Fedex package.


IN THE CATEGORY OF BEST PRODUCT PLACEMENT THE NOMINEES ARE

American Airlines
Hertz
Hilton Hotels

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44 Pages, 45 Minutes and A Funeral.

Okay, there was no funeral yesterday. I just want to make that clear. There probably was a funeral, somewhere, just not in a way that relates to my blog. And if you lost someone yesterday, I apologise. Not that I'd have offended you because if you lost them only yesterday, it wouldn't be the funeral yet. And if they're only lost, we don't know for sure they're dead. So hang in there. Anyways - the part about 44 pages will make more sense.

I headed to the office yesterday to write some pages. I'd been writing at home but I was writing at the rate of one word a day, which isn't very good. I mean, the words were fine, I think last Tuesday I wrote the word "envelope" which I was incredibly proud of. But when you're trying to write a feature length screenplay, you need to write a little more. Being only 14 pages into the script - I decided I needed to sit down in a place with the specific purpose of writing a film. When I'm at home, it's like "Oh, hold on - forget the screenplay, I should just write a ten sentence blog about Nora Ephron," and then the script gets forgotten.

I managed to write 30 pages, taking me from 14 to 44 pages, (as I write that I realise you don't really need me to tell you how many more than 14 pages there are, you could have figured it out..). Anyways, I was very happy with myself. 30 Pages is a lot of pages, but that's how I write --- I float away onto a different planet and it comes out fast and quick, much like after you've eaten a good curry. I planned to write until half past four but by three o'clock I was done, I had nothing left to write. My energy was gone for the day. This was slightly annoying as I realised I had a meeting at five o'clock in Angel (that's a place, in London, not a person. I don't have meetings in people).

I left the office and started walking towards Picadilly Circus. Just before I got there, I got a text saying "Could we meet in Picadilly Circus?" - and of course, that was very convenient for me, so I said "Yes." Of course, having told you it was convenient it's unlikely I would have said no, I'm just enjoying stating the obvious today. With 45 minutes to spare, I decided to go to the cinema.

'Up In The Air' was just about to start. I wanted to see it for two reasons. One, because I'm actually seeing it on Wednesday with a friend - so I thought it'd be good to see the first forty five minutes in case it's awful. And also, having just written 44 pages, it seemed like a good idea, using the 'page a minute' ratio, to see 45 pages worth of a film so that I could compare. Of course, comparing your writing to an Oscar nominated film is perhaps a bit crazy. But then, when they nominate Avatar for best picture, it makes me think I should enter my seven year old cousins home movies to the Academy Awards.

I soon realised I wouldn't be seeing 45 minutes of the film because there were about thirty minutes of trailers. This annoyed me. But then, as if by magic, the actress I was meeting text me to say she'd be half an hour late. And by this point I was thinking, she must be psychic or something, I should definitely use her in a project.

Then it happened. A short, dense, low THUD to the back of my chair. I felt special --- out of a near empty cinema the couple had chosen to sit behind me. I was sitting one row in front of the back row, on the far far right. I sat there because it was nearest the exit and I knew I'd be leaving after forty five minutes. Why they chose to sit directly behind me on the far far right, I don't know. I can only assume they had to leave to go see a play after 46 minutes. Whatever the reasons, they wouldn't have bothered me- it was just the THUD.

It completely boggled my mind. It wasn't like I was being kicked in a traditional way, like the nine year old little shithead on the plane, or the sixteen year old on the bus who's trying to impress his friends by practically bullying you with a constant banging against your seat . No, this was more sophisticated than that.

Imagine Rocky punching someone in the face as hard as he could. Now imagine that slowed down by 700% until it is an agonizingly slow, meticulous THUD. That is what I had to put up with, every two and a half minutes, or so. I tried to figure out what was going on -- involuntary leg spasms? Was it some kind of code to invite me to the back row for a threesome? If I had been there for the whole film, I would have said something. Something like "DO YOU WANT ME TO TAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S POPCORN AND SMASH EACH PIECE INTO YOUR FOREHEAD IN SLOW MOTION SO IT'S LIKE 700 UNUSUALLY INTENSE THUDS?"

Unfortunately, when I do things like that, people find me odd - especially if I'm with a girl. Then she's like "What Thud? What are you talking about? You're imagining things."

I'll let you know my thoughts on the rest of 'Up In The Air' tomorrow, when I see all of it, unless Mr & Mrs Dull Thud are there, in which case, I'll update you when my prison cell gets Wi-Fi.

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They Are To Blame For Everything That's Wrong With The Film Industry.

Apparently they did it. They won't see people who don't have an agent, they don't read unsolicited scripts, they prefer men to women, they won't fund this type of project and they are treating us badly. One thing is for sure, we are not to blame and it is definitely them - but who they are, I don't know.

Apparently they don't cast black actors. I cast black actors, so maybe I'm not them. But I've never cast a Mexican, so maybe I am the they that is keeping Mexicans out of the industry. I met a casting director who is usually only interested in actors with certain agents, but she's used a few people who don't have an agent at all. So is she one of them, I mean - the they, or is she not those? It's hard to tell. But either way, she's probably an exception to the rule, and they are all still against us.

See, that's the thing - THEY are stopping us succeeding in the industry. They are all huddled in a room - the privileged people of success room. I think it's upstairs on the 4th floor. They all huddle up there and conspire against independent films and original screenplays and new actors. They really hate us.

This theory is, of course, completely insane - but most people in the industry swear by it.

They don't fund projects without explosions.

They won't even look at me.

They don't understand my work.

They never pay people.

They probably won't like my acting.

Who are they? Why are they so against everybody?

Nobody ever identifies themselves as 'THEY.' It's always other people. It's always someone more successful who is oppressing us in some way. It's a bit similar to other industries.

They never let me go on break.

They don't even notice me.

I moved all those boxes but did they care? NO!.

I have met people on every level in the film industry -- and I've still never met one of they. Sure, there are some idiots in the industry; but even they are just trying to do their jobs.

Casting Directors are trying to find the right actors for their projects. Producers are looking to put good films together. Agents want great writers/actors/etc.

Next time you find yourself blaming them or they or those, just have a think about it -- because it's probably wasted energy, they don't exist. I call it Gatekeeper Syndrome. It's the imaginary gatekeepers that we feel stand between us and the big guys. They exist only in our minds.

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Nora Ephron - What Are You Doing To Me?

I am currently reading the Nora Ephron book 'Heartburn.' It's a book about a woman who is seven months pregnant who finds out her husband is cheating on her. And it's about cooking. And women stuff. And the cover looks like this --

Now, this is a problem because I am a guy.

And if I read a book like that on the train, people will give me weird looks.

'Why Are You Reading Nora Ephron books?' you might ask. And all I can say is that, Nora Ephron has been pulling this kind of shit on me all my life. Do I want to be watching Meg Ryan prancing around all the time? No. But do I? Yes. 'Sleepless In Seattle,' 'You've Got Mail', 'Hanging Up' - I loved them all.

You see - I secretly think Nora Ephron is one of the best writers alive. There are not many others who could make me relate to a story about a bunch of quarrelling sisters ('Hanging Up') - and whilst I do love a good ole' rom-com, I would rarely call them my favorite films - but I think 'You've Got Mail' is genius. If it was made in the 1950's and had Billy Wilder's name as Director, it probably would have won some oscars.

The book I am reading, 'Heartburn,' was turned into a movie, which I've not yet seen. But the book is great - hilarious, compelling, and true - in a way few books are. I actually really struggle with reading, I find it hard to find voices that resonate with me. I can name about four -- Woody Allen (short stories), Joseph Heller, Roald Dahl, John O'Farrell, some of Nick Hornby, and half of Jack Kerouac's 'On The Road' - that is a bit more than four but that number was only a guess prior to this sentence. Oh, and Anne Frank. There's more truth in her book than anything else I've ever read.

So I have to face the facts - I need to stand up proudly and say. I LOVE NORA EPHRON.

But right now I'm going to go and watch the 'Die Hard' trilogy and some war films....

PS: Today is the last day you can vote for me in the 2010 Weblog Awards, or the Bloggies, as they're also known. I am one of the five nominees in the 'Best Entertainment Blog' category. I would really appreciate it if you voted for me. You can do that here.

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