Monday, 3 January 2011

2011 WEBLOG AWARDS - Entertainment Category

Last year, Kid In The Front Row won the 'Best Entertainment Blog' in the 2010 Weblog 'Bloggie' Awards. I just want to let you all know that the voting has opened again for the 2011 Awards. Winning last year was a very meaningful thing for me. As a blogger -- it brought a new wave of readers and friends, which is exactly what I'm here for. 

If you have enjoyed this blog over the past year, and deem it worthy; I'd really love to have another shot at being one of the nominees in the 'Best Entertainment' category. Last year, I was up against nominees that were bigger sites run by numerous people, and a couple of them had a more corporate interface. Any victory for a small site like this, is a victory for independence, for doing things from the heart, and for focusing on creativity and inspiration and a passion for movies, rather than reviewing the latest superhero movie or for posting rumors about who Kristen Stewart is dating. My point is; those sites don't need support, this one does. The voice of the Kid In The Front Row who loves story, and romance, and inspiration--- those Kids have been diluted and disregarded by an industry and society that doesn't value them in the way they once did. 

Any vote or nomination or award for a site like this is important. It's important to me personally and it's important on a bigger scale because it means: people still care about the things we care about. And that is why I blog.

You can nominate me in the Best Entertainment Category by going to this website: http://2011.bloggi.es/ -- Thank you so much!

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Sunday, 2 January 2011

Stuckness - When A Writer Goes Blank

There's nothing worse for a writer than stuckness. Okay, maybe having no hands is worse. Apart from that, being stuck, or blank, is probably worse. Am I talking about writer's block? Maybe. But sometimes there's something else-- it's like a distinct blankness that descends over your day. You can't write your script, you can't write your emails, and you can't talk to people without being grumpy. 

The worst part is, everyone has advice! "You just need to write through it," or "well, you need to focus on your inner writer" or some other thing they read in a book about writing. But that takes away from the uniqueness of it. Just like nobody can tell Diablo Cody how to write Juno, nobody can tell her how to get over her stuckness, if she ever has it. In fact, it makes it worse. 

What is this stuckness I talk about? It's a thing you wake up with -- you're grumpy before you've had your cereal, and for no known reason the Gods have decided you will not be writing today. Here's something I've experienced: the ones who tell you "just write through it, that's what I do," are often the ones who don't write very good stuff. If you can write all the time, then something is wrong. The best writers always want to write and are always doing everything they can to write, but sometimes they come across the stuckness and have to deal with it by taking a walk, or a holiday, or by getting high and throwing their laptops out the window. They need to get out of the train they're on. That's what it's like --- a stuckness brought on by being in one place that is heading nowhere good.


You need that insight that comes from a new experience, or a serendipitous event, or by being suddenly in danger. You need that insight. The best writing is usually writing about the girl you loved when you were fourteen, or the time you and your friends got stranded in Estonia when you were twenty three. The problem is; once we've written the hell out of them, we're left with five months of sitting at your desk and your only experiences are the different types of teabags you've been drinking. You ignore social opportunities, because you want to write, and you ignore film recommendations because you want to watch your Woody Allen collection again. You keep it too close to home, you follow your path a little too closely. Of course, your path is the path, but all paths take on new directions. I'm bored of talking about paths already. This is the stuckness!

The comfort with the stuckness comes from experience. You know that it's part of the creative process. So is the bad newbie writer telling you how to deal with it. You probably did that too back when you were a bad writer. The stuckness comes when you really want to write something amazing, or when you have a really big project to be focusing on. The stuckness is telling you this is important. you need to see things differently.

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Saturday, 1 January 2011

2011: Our Odyssey - The Video

A few days ago I wrote an article called 2011: Our Odyssey, and then last night, as 2010 drew to a close, I thought it'd be a great idea to have it as a video, with someone saying it. After all, I'm a writer/director, my words are okay on the page, but they're better when someone with real talent can bring them to life.

So I emailed the wonderful Tracy Clifton and asked her to perform it to camera, which of course she agreed to do because she's the kind of actor who gets things done. So, here is '2011: Our Odyssey' the video version, and I hope you're as inspired by Tracy as I am.


Happy New Year!

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Tuesday, 28 December 2010

2011: Our Odyssey


2011 is the year. It's the year we reach for the stars and storm forth into each day, dedicated to making everything happen. Yes, we say this every year, and yes, we lose steam after two weeks. But not this time. We have this thing now, we have this community; we are filmmakers, and writers, and bloggers, and actors and camera operators and a million other things and we are getting good at supporting each other with our creative pursuits. Now is the year that we turn it on full-time. We're gonna keep working and trying and creating till 3am and we'll stand in freezing fields at six in the morning figuring out how to get the boom mic to work when all the batteries are dead. This is the year for it. 

Sometimes we're gonna lose confidence and sometimes we're going to feel worthless and sometimes we're going to feel convinced that we're talentless. But things are different now. We've found people online and slowly but surely we find people in our communities who get it. They like talent and they like coloring things in and they like cameras and they like how words magically gel together and they like YOU and they like ME. We need to stand up for each other and stand up for our art and stand up for all the things we've achieved, are achieving, and will be achieving. We need to be confident and we need to be aware that when failures happen, they teach us more than our successes will and they make us come back stronger the next time. But from now on, next time is right now. And it's right now every time. It's not next year and it's not in five year's time. 

Now is the time to write those movies. Now is the time to get cast in a dream role. Now is the time to get your favorite movie star to be in your movie. Now is the time to take that class, to read that book, to email that producer who scares you a little, to blog like crazy about all your favorite movies. Now is the time. It's now. And we're all here for you and we need you to be there for us. Because we want to make movies that express who we are and what we're feeling. We want to do what we love, and meet people we love, and feel the love of audiences and friends and people who GET IT. GET US. You are those people, we are those people. We are here because we know a movie isn't just a movie. That feeling you get when Andy Dufresne crawls through a sewer of shit isn't just a movie. That feeling that rises in your heart when getting the train to a meeting while the theme to Forrest Gump plays in your headphones isn't just a movie. That feeling you get when a cinema audience laughs at your one-liner isn't just a movie. It's more than that. What we do, how we feel, and how we make others feel and how they make us feel -- that's the stuff that makes life worth living. That's what gets us up in the morning. And this year; we're focusing on that. 

Are you signing the pledge? You don't need to sign with a pen or hand me any money.. you just need to keep showing up, and keep supporting people, and keep sneaking food into cinemas, and keep loving what you love and keep standing up for it. Are you with me?

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Thursday, 23 December 2010

Reflecting On John "LEO MCGARRY" Spencer

"Johnny,  it seems we hardly knew you. We love you, and we miss you."
-Martin Sheen.

We were fortunate to get some poignant, adventitious glimpses of Leo McGarry -- some of John Spencer's finest work -- in episodes that were originally screened after the unexpected death of the actor who played him, John Spencer. As if by pure luck, John's performances in his final episodes are some of the finest in the history of THE WEST WING. But looking at his acting career, you realize: it has nothing to do with luck. John Spencer was always getting better, as an actor. Leo McGarry was his masterpiece.


This week I have had the privilege of talking to Eli Attie, who was a Supervising Producer and Writer on The West Wing. Here's what he had to say about John.

"The West Wing had an extraordinary company of actors. Not typical TV actors, the people who move to LA as teenagers to primp and pose and become stars, but deeply serious actors, who had honed their craft in NY theater and were unbelievably dedicated to the process, to the work itself. John had spent decades in that world, and even among our great, great cast, he had a weight of experience, a way of owning his place in a scene, that was in many ways equivalent to the authority Leo had as White House chief of staff. His role was unquestioned. There was an accumulated strength and wisdom to John's acting. Some actors find their way to a performance; John knew precisely what he was doing from the first take, always. Like Leo, there was no room for stumbling around. And no need."

At the beginning of Episode 10, in Season 7 - the episode begins with Martin Sheen addressing the audience, and sharing the news that we would be witnessing the final few months of John Spencer's work. The episode that proceeded this statement was one of Spencer's finest. The Santos For President campaign was running out of patience with Leo McGarry-- who was stumbling over simple questions whilst rehearsing for the Vice-Presidential candidate debate, with the staff worrying over his health and ability to fulfill the role. 

It's a heartbreaking episode because we see the powerhouse of Leo McGarry, for the first time in seven seasons; looking extremely vulnerable. He looks this way until the final moments when his performance in the debate outshines all expectations; and we (and his staff) realize he's been manipulating the media the whole time. This episode is a shining example of the brilliant complexity that Spencer brought to his work.

"I went to the small wake that his family held in New Jersey right after he died. Just a few of us made it; the weather was awful. It was my first Catholic wake, and as the tradition dictates, there was a big corkboard covered with family photos of John throughout his life. In his West Wing days, his face was like a novel--so much complexity and depth of expression. Simple reaction shots of John, while the other characters were talking, could tell as much story as the words.  And looking at that board, I remember thinking: he had that same amazing character actor's face when he was six, he was just waiting to grow into it. Which might be why his career really came alive later in his life."

John's final two episodes on The West Wing were a fitting tribute to the man - which is especially moving considering this was never their intention. Episode 12 of Season Seven was written by Eli, and featured a remarkable scene between Leo and President Bartlet (played by Martin Sheen). Of course, Eli Attie wasn't to know that this would be their final scene together; but we can only thank the Gods that these two wonderful men got to share the screen one final time. There was something powerful about seeing these two masters (fictionally, as characters, and in reality, as actors) on screen together. They compelled me and held my attention in a way so few can. I wrote about this in my previous article about the show, "They brought a gravitas; a weight, that you rarely see in television, or in life. We need them. They represent the type of leadership and eldership we all need, within our selves and from those around us."


I asked Eli, "On screen; Leo had a real gravitas; he was an elder to those around him. Could the same be said of John Spencer?"

"I think on an acting level that was true, absolutely. Just in terms of age and experience, both Martin and John had that kind of gravitas, a very well-earned respect from the whole cast and production. But personally, I think of John as someone who was always laughing and joking, would always greet you with a hug--a more openly emotional person than Leo. Leo quite literally had the weight of the world on those shoulders. John could afford to be looser, more casual, more of a thoroughly creative spirit. John was an artist, after all, which I don't think Leo could ever have been, or would have fully understood."

The final episode that John appears in, is the first episode where Donna and Josh kiss. The Santos team are celebrating gains in the polls; and they are all in high spirits. We see a brief shot of Leo, in the mix -- and it steals your attention. There he is, full of life -- not only do we see Leo McGarry unusually happy, but we see a glimpse of the John Spencer that the West Wing crew knew, the artist and creative spirit that Eli just described. It's touching. It's only a couple of seconds -- but it's a more moving few seconds than most TV shows manage in their entire runs.


The episodes that followed dealt with the death of the character, Leo McGarry, which was made more real and emotional by the fact that we were mourning the death of John Spencer, too. For us, as viewers, it was deeply sad. For the cast and crew of The West Wing, they had lost a close friend. In some strangely poignant and beautiful way, it made for some of the greatest television ever made. But it also meant an end for the show.

"One of the reasons there couldn't have been an eighth season of the show, in my view, was John's absence.  When I think of that final run of episodes, dealing with Leo's death, and of course John's as well, I think of Brando in the final scene of The Godfather Part II. he's not actually there, but you feel his power, you feel the life-force that he was, and everyone is still reacting to him. John's death left a gaping hole in the middle of the show, a cavernous vacuum, and the rest of Season Seven was largely a reaction to that--a memorial to him and to the creative world he helped to shape and lead. So his death of course changed everything. I have a hard time separating the personal aspects--gathering to share memories at his home right after his passing, the wake and the funeral and the memorials--from the writing and filming of those final shows. We grieved through the work."

With thanks to Eli Attie. 

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