Monday, 14 March 2011

Thirteen

I was in the bakery near where I live today, buying some lunch - and got talking to the lady about film. I was asking if they'd consider catering for my next movie, because even when you're buying bread, you never stop thinking with your film hat on. So of course, I explained who I am and what I do - and she told me about her thirteen year old boy, and how he's been auditioning for acting jobs, and creating music; and doing all sorts of wonderful things.

And within two minutes and the buttering of a baguette -- she told me about how one minute she was young and wanted to see the world and the next minute she was working in a bakery for twenty years. And the boy is only thirteen but you can see she's hoping he's her ticket to see the world. She told me, quite touchingly, how more than anything she wants to make some money so she can take him to America. Because for her, that's where people like him will succeed.

But right now he's thirteen and he's got to figure out what he wants to do, without a heap of pressure on his shoulders. She said his music and acting could be terrible, what does she know, she's just his Mother. I said that his stuff probably is terrible but it's not what matters. Right now, he's thirteen. At sixteen he'll be better. I told her the thing I always tell Mother's of young talented people; I tell them how long it takes. I explain that "The X Factor" and "American Idol" are bullshit. They make it look like fame and success come after two minutes of talent and an audition. But that's not talent, that's a TV show and a bit of marketing. Real talent is spending your last penny on some bread and crying your eyes out because the nineteenth person in a row rejected you.

"The girl doesn't, it seems to me, have a special perception or feeling which would lift that book above the 'curiosity' level." -Rejection Slip for 'The Diary Of Anne Frank'

Talent takes a long time. Nobody cared about John Wayne's early films. Nobody turned up to Steve Martin's stand-up gigs for eight years.

But you're not thirteen anymore. You're twenty two or twenty nine or fifty six and nobody is watching or reading or buying your stuff. Or six people are when you need fifty thousand to break even. It's stressful, right? And one side of your brain is telling you to give up and the other side is telling you to get an office job for two months even though you know you will probably kill all the staff there. Everyone is trying to work it out. And right now your best friend has a role on Broadway, and you're struggling. But next year you sell a screenplay and get interviewed on TV, and that friend who was on Broadway is back on Broadway but he's selling tickets at the discount booth.


Your talent, your ideas, your voice; they're in constant development. Take my blog for example --- sometimes I nail it, sometimes I send you to sleep. Sometimes you're inspired, sometimes you wish I'd shut up. But hopefully, I get better at it. And it keeps growing. One minute you have one follower, the next you have two hundred, and it keeps going. You start out with no followers partly because you've not written anything yet, and partly because you're not the best you'll be yet. It's a lifetime commitment. We're not getting rich, but that was never the dream. The dream was to be artists. And that shitty feeling you get when you fuck up an audition or when a producer laughs you out of the room or you post your new film on Youtube and only get 9 views--------- that's the journey. You get stronger each time you fail.

But the thirteen year old just plays and experiments; and we need to hold on to that essence. We need to be kids in the front row.

Won't you let me walk you home from school?
Won't you let me meet you at the pool?
Maybe Friday I can
Get tickets for the dance
And I'll take you.
-Big Star - Thirteen

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Sunday, 13 March 2011

Tell Me What To Blog About

Most of my blogging opportunities this week will come from finding small bits of downtime to type away on my iPhone. But for this week I'm interested in doing something different.

Maybe there's something you'd like me to talk about, or like my angle on. Maybe I explored something important to you once and never returned to the topic. Anyways, for this week - I'm taking requests. Tell me what you want to see me writing about.

Care to share?

CATFISH

You have to see this film. It's a documentary. It's it's hilarious, it's sad, it's poignant, it's moving. The film begins with a bunch of unappealing twentysomething guys making a documentary, and by the end they bring together a film full of compassion and heart. I couldn't glance away from this for a second, absolutely riveting -- at times funny, at times bizarre, at times deeply upsetting. Please see it!


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Saturday, 12 March 2011

THE OTHER GUYS Are The Same Guys You See In Every Film

I'm writing this as I watch 'The Other Guys.' I wouldn't normally write or in fact do anything whilst watching a movie - but this film is nothing new, I've seen this stuff 500 times before and this film gets released three times a year.

Big-budget comedies strangle themselves. The characters are built on stereotypes; good guys and bad guys, mad guys and sensible guys, black guys and white guys, good choices and bad choices.


This is what the big movies often are; because they're trying to cater for everyone. If you make a movie for 80 million and only seventeen people understand it, you have a problem. The shortcut to everyone 'getting it' is street-wise black men, awkward white men, billion dollar problems and gorgeous woman. I'm 24 minutes into the movie and the beautiful women aren't here yet, but I know Eva Mendes is in it and I'm expecting her soon. The comedy is established, so the romance needs to be plugged in as a device to keep people interested.

The problem with making these movies in this way; is that the jokes have to be amazing and the actors have to be compelling. Wahlberg and Farrell are great at what they do - but the comedy thus far is Wahlberg accusing Farrell of being feminine, and that's about it, and it's old already.

So the film is about 'being a man.' But who relates to that premise? I like rom-coms and I think shooting guns is dumb and stupid. So the story isn't about me, but then who is it about? Who can relate to this stuff?

So we know what's coming. Two desk jockey cops need to prove themselves, overcome their limitations and probably get the girls. We know this story already. So we need something more. If we're not laughing hysterically or desperately concerned about the plight of those involved, then we're detached; we're back thinking about our personal problems and writing blogs instead of focusing on the movie.

They keep doing the joke about Will Farrell being a geek. He loves computers, he loves Photoshop, he loves bad movies, etc-- the joke keeps coming. If this was Billy Wilder he would only have made the joke once, and it would have been funnier.

So Eva Mendes is here now and she's talking about her breasts.

I'm bored, and there's over an hour left.

So I skipped to the end. And the two guys are holding their guns up to the bad guys, Wahlberg is being bad ass and Will Farrell is stepping out of his comfort zones. Don't worry about me giving away the ending, you've seen this film before.

The bad guys are in jail, and Farrell's geekery pays off, and Wahlberg gets the girl.

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Thursday, 10 March 2011

Following Your Own Path

Becoming the artist you are, getting to the you that is really the best you can be, is a really bizarre thing. Because you find yourself inspired in the weirdest places -- like a Dylan bootleg from '83, or a rom-com flop starring Jennifer Aniston; and it's strange because --- how can you build a career based on influences that no-one cares about?

But of course you can. In the extended cut of "Almost Famous" there's a great scene, I think between William and Russell, where they talk about loving a moment in Marvin Gaye's "What's Happenin' Brother", it's a small 'woo', one of those accidents that got left in--- but it's the best thing on the record.

Those are the little things that inspire us, the little things that make us who we are. If you don't like "Casablanca" but you do like "Just Friends", so be it -- that's you. Some people spend years denying they like "Just Friends" and as a result deny they love mainstream rom-Coms and therefore never let their creativity explore rom-coms and thus never reach their potential. I'm sure you all have examples where you've fought against your natural skills/instincts/interests.

I know quite a few actors who turn away from their strong points-- it's very self-destructive.

Embrace it. I'm not into "Star Wars" and I'm not into "The Matrix" so I don't really go there, it's not my ticket. Having a wide range of influences and knowledge is of course great and important; but you just gotta make sure you take care of what you love. If your skill as an actor is being a scary gangster, or being a quirky girlfriend-- you could shy away from it or you could become the best quirky girlfriend that ever was by constantly working on it. It's like right now, this theory I'm exploring of "doing stuff for the 1%" -- it might be nonsense, or it might be worthwhile; either way I'm battering away at it until I exhaust it. I'll be the authority on being creative for the 1%. That's how we all need to be about our niche things, about the things we love.

You can be pretty good, maybe even great; at doing things well like many others--- or you can absolutely nail and own the one area you're personally drawn to. There's room for a master of suspense like Hitchcock, or for a powerful woman to give Streep some competition at awards time, or for a screenwriter who can make a script read like poetry. Whatever it is you're good at or want to be good at, that's where it's at; even if no-one around you gets it yet, even if everyone says "I'm telling you there's no market for transgender thriller rom-coms!" they're right. But they're right because you're not great yet, you're still pandering to the 99%. When you nail the thing you really want to say, after years of learning, writing and redrafting, then they'll get it--- you'll have mastered your work, mastered you, and when you show everyone else who you are, they'll see themselves.

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